The Butler Weekly Times Newspaper, February 29, 1888, Page 3

uot Shoo Makers BUTLER, MO. “Shoes made to order gener leather used. north side ot Square. E “phsee, 44 Murray Bt., | pRs.S.# D. DAVIESON gr. LOUIS, MO., 1* The Great Speci meng pee Feat Seater path PPS ees BURT Heaeeaeee 80) BY DRUGGISTS. INVIGORAT ‘Isacare for Liver Complaints end {lis caused by Giton of the Lives, ag B: Constipation, Billousness, 1s, purifies the blood, and stren; i PAMILY REDIGENE, Thowsends of prove ite merit, Any draggist will tell you its reputation. Stomach, Liver ise and Bowels ——TAKE{— STRICTLY VEGETABLE. Sick Headache, Liv r sness. Jaundice, etc. Price, 25 Cents. PACIFIC MANUFACTURING CO., ST. LOUIS, MO. ARBUCKLES’ name on a package of COFFEE is a guarantee of excellence. ARIOSA COFFEE is kept in all first-class stores from the Atlantic to the Pacifie, COFFEE is never good when exposed to the atr, Always buy thisbrandin sealed ONE POUND PACKAGES. > Te ONGUAL ANG OLY THRE CC. ST. LOUIS, BO BUTLER NAT Opera House Block, ———— BUTLER, MO. 866,000, Capital, SURPLUS $5,500 ONAL BANK, The Story of an Unsuccessful Wooing. {Written for This Paper.] ~ @E had just returned from Europe, my | father and I, ard! had not settled definitely upon a8 place of permanent residence. We spent afew weeks in New York re- newing our acquaintance with the friends whom we had not seen for several years; then we went West to Sharald, a quiet summer resort on the shore of Lake Michigan whose attrac- tions were, as yet, comparatively un- JOHN H.SULLENS........ President BOOKER POWELL,... Vice President. wu Ee WALTON,.-.- - Bi ON eeee-- Cashier. ENKINS, . DIRECTORS, oeee- Ast Cashier, EY.....Clerk and Collector. Dr, T. C. Boulware, Jj.M. Tucker, udge y- H Sullens, |. R, Simpson rank Voris, C. H. Dutcher Booker Powell, Green W. Walton, lghn Deerwester, r. N. L. Whipple Wm, E, Walton, J- Rue Jenkins. Receives deposits, loans money, and transacts a general banking business. Weextend to eurcustomers every ac- commrdation consistent with sate bank- ing. CORRESPONDENTS. First Nat’! Bank - Kansas City. Fourth NationalBank - St. Louis. Hanover National Bank - New York. BATES COUNTY National Bank. (Organized in 1871.) OF BUTLER, MC. known to the public. I had been my father’s constant companion for more than ten years— since my mother’s death—reading, studying, traveling with him and en- joying his undivided confidence, going with him on his hunting and fishing jaunts, even, as if I had been the son that was expected and desired. when I made my advent into this world. If my father was disappointed, however, I was never made to feel it; and my name, Roberta Ferron, was the only reminder that there might have been a somewhat different order of things, had the fates been pro- pitious. I did my best to make !t up to him, and, in overcoming that genuine squeamishness with which most men are secretly impatient—whatever they may have to say about the true woman and female delicacy—I probably went to the other extreme, and developed a certain hoydenish, which was especi- ally offensive to my aunt, Miss Pris- cilla Ferron, my father’s only sister, an angular spinster of uncompromis- ing grimness and propriety. My in- tercourse with her, fortunately, was limited to brief visits at long intervals, so that her disapproval did not weigh very heavily upon my spirits, which 1 frankly admit at that period were de- cidedly in need of restraint. Capital paid in, - - $75,000. Surplus - - - - $1000 F.1. TYGARD, - - - - President. HON. J. B. MEWBERRY, Vice-Pres. J.C.CLARK - - - Cashier. FINF SUITS. In every style price and quality Made to Order I guaranteed a fit in every case alland see me, up stairs North! PMain Street. J.E. TALBOTT, Merchant Tailor. SNOT:A DRUG 1529 Arch Street, Philad’a, Pa A WELL-TRIED TREATMENT | For CORSUNETION, ASTUN 4. BRONCHITIS, CATARRM, HAY FEVER, HEADACHE, DEBILITY, zum, REURALGIA and all Curonic and Nervous Dae “COMPOUND OXYGER™ Brats, Spinal Marrow, and the: oes Stogna eis Centres” —are nm hed ani ive. Thus the iberty to refer te the own perions who have thete 4 KELLEY, Member of Come it L. CONRAD, Editor La REY. CHARLES W. CUSH- N, WILLIAM PES: _ %. Yoo! R. E. C. KNIGHT, Philadelphia. Merehaat, he a kK Pi ia, HON. W. ‘Read the brochure! DRS. STARKEY & PALEN, MA & 1529 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa, ADVERTISERS can learn the exact cost of any proposed line of advertising-in American papers by addressing Geo. P. Rowell & Co., Newspaper Advertising Bureau, 10 Spruce St, New York. Send 10cte for 100-Page Pamphiet earned over $50 fn Bither . Setveusired’ You sre hartea ben Views theme st sore oe ehestantiy cara of omag Bile see At this time I was only sixteen, but Thad read a good deal of Latin and Greek; I could speak French and Ger- man, and had a pretty thorough knowledge of history and literature, beside the usual accomplishments, and was almost as expert with the rod and rifle as my father, who was an ardent Sportsman. T never was pretty. Iwas too tall, and, like my aunt, rather too angular. My yellow hair was too striking a con- trast to my skiu, which was always tanned to a decided brown, and which was only made tolerable by the healthy red in cheeks and lips. My teeth were white and regular, my eyes were large, dark, and not lacking in expression, and were my one good feature, My father, with all a father’s partiality, insisted that I was beautiful, but Aunt Priscilla, a more disinterested and relia- ble eritic, quenched my vanity with the opinion ‘that I was too odd-look- ing to please.” t was the summer of 1860 that we spent at Sharald, and the memory of it, or rather the first part of it, is delightful tome yet. The sport was excellent. We tramped over every foot of the country for miles around, and spent much time on the lake or fishing for black bass in which the streams about there then abounded. We had a month of unalloyed happiness, and were so content with each other’s com- panionship that we made few acquaint- ances. One evening—it was the first Satur- day in August—among the passengers on the late boat was Reginald Brand, who was an old friend and class-mate of my father’s. His arrival was whol- ly unexpected, for although they had kept up an uninterrupted correspond- ence ever since they had left college, they had not met since I was a little child, and I had wholly forgotten him. He was a peculiar man. I can not tell just how, or why, though he was commonplace enough in appearance, being tall, muscular, with grizzled hair and mustache, rather heavy feat- ures and eyes that had an uncomfort- able habit of scrutinizing you through their half-closed lids) It may have been this trick, one of which he was evidently unconscious, that made him so unaccountably repulsive to me. For his virtues, which were high cultiva- tion, intelligence, refinement of man- ner and a delightful cheerfulness that would have been thoroughly captivat- ing in any one else, greatly outweighed his faults. Possibly I was a trifle jealous, for I cared for no society but my father’s, and felt piqued that I was not equally sufficient to him. I resented the intru- sion of a third person in our hunting and fishing jaunts, and in the long conversations that were even more delightful. But there was no help for it, and Ihad to submit to the inevitable with the best grace 1 could muster. Father, like the rest of his sex, was provokingly obtuse about many thin; and it never occurred to him that I might not find Mr. Brand’s society, his reminiscence of travel and his endless fund of anecdote, as entertain- ing as he did. The weeks, however, did not lag, but sped away as rapidly as they had be- fore Mr. Brand’s unwelcome advent, and the month of August was nearly atanend. I ought to explain that all this time the man had paid me very little attention beyond vouchsaving, an occasional remark, or mechani giving me his hand as I stepped into and out of the boat. I was thankful Tor this, at least, for his slightest notice was extremely distasteful to me. Oc casionally, I surprised him surveying me with that strange, penetrating gaze from under his drooping lids He showed no indications of leaving, and my father appeared to become more and more infatuated with him. They were together every moment of the day, except when each retired to his room for a brief rest after the primitive one o'clock dinner, and sat smoking and talking on the verandah until far into the night. I WAS THANKFUL FOR THIS, AT LEAST. I was, apparently, less than nothing to Mr. Reginald Brand, and I feared, with a jealous pang, that I was of less consequence to my father, as well, than I had been. The first of September two incidents occurred which were a premonition oi what happened afterwards. We had started out fishing immediately after breakfast, when my father, asking ue to wait, went baek to the hotel for something he had forgotten. Mr. Brand observed that the weather was fine and drew his handkerchief from his inner pocket. As he did so a knot of soft, scarlet silk came out with it and fell at my feet. It was mine and Thad missed it for several days, hav- ing removed it when rowing, and had left itin the boat. I recognized it at glance and looked at him mystified. But, proffering no explanation, he stooped down, picked it up and coolly replaced it in his pocket. Father re- joined us just then, and I puzzled my wits over it for an hour orso, and then forgot it. One evening, a little while after this, I stood on the balcony of the hotel upon which our home opened, while father sat within writing at # table in the center of our private par- lor. Mr. Brand was pacing up and down meditating and smoking as usual. The moon was full andI stood by the railing looking across the wide expanse of silvery water hemmed in by hills wooded to their summit, ] unfastened from my bosom a cluster oi roses that had drooped and withered, and was about to fling them away, when his hand deftly in- tercepted their fall and he turned immediately and walked away, car- rying them with him, before I could utter a word of protest. If my father had observed this strange proceeding he made no sign, but finished his letters, sealing and ad- dressing the envelopes with the greatest deliberations. The next morning there was not the slightest change in Mr. Brand's imperturbable manner. He ignored my presence a: usual, devoted himself to my father, so that I spent the day endeavoring tc convince myself that either I was laboring under some strange hallu cination, or the man was insane. Furthermore, after this he was con- tinually in my thoughts, although J liked him less than ever. I was more and more uncomfortable and shud- dered when I heard his voice or when he approached me. Finally, it be- came unendurable and I implored my father to return to New York. “With all this lovely September weather yet before us, Roberta?’’ he asked. “Yes,’’ I replied, ‘let us go this evening, or to-morrow morning at the very latest.”’ “O, nonsense; this is only a whim. Besides, I have promised to go with Mr. Brand to-morrow to see the fruit farms back in the hills.’’ «Brand, Brand, I hate the name,’’ I cried, impetuously, and then I burst out: “Itis on his account that I wish to go. Do you know, father, I believe the man is a lunatic.” My dignity was painfully wounded when he threw back his head and laughed immoder- ately. He saw in a moment, how- ever, that I was offended, tried to compose his countenance and begged my pardon. Afters moment’s pause he asked me why I thought so My cheeks flushed hotly, I stam- mered and hesitated, but could not bring myself to tell him, Finally I gave & woman's unfailing reason, when pressed to the wall: “Bo cal a. Father laughed again and remind- ed me. That that was no reason. The truth could not have beenjurung from me with torture. I knew abso- lutely nothing of men in general, and although, so far as my personal knowl- edge availed me, J could not say that Mr. Brand’s conduct had been un- usual; still my modesty had instinct- ively taken alarm Fortunately, father changed the subject. Mr. Brand kept himself out of sight and his name was not mentioned again that day, nor did be transgress again for some ume Fin were for once alone together, father arernoon, as we iv a ' ny one you if ue cogia. me ns suddenly announced that his friend Po = aes would leave for his home early the jy ~ Oe ee next morning. “Thank Heaven!’ I ejaculted, with a sigh of relief. “That's hardly courteous, R oberta, and it certainly isn’t kind,’ he expostulated. ‘I can not ~ think why you have taken so violent an aversion to one of my oldest and dearest friends I know his whole history. His life has not only been blameless, but it has been nobly self-sacrificing. He was the best of sons, caring tenderly for his mother as long as she lived His father died shortly after he was born, and he was an only child. All that he is he owes to his own honor and energy, and to noone else. He isa man of very su- perior intelligence, of position and ancestry, in short, ho has every noble quality that a man should have, with comparatively few faults.’” “Probably that is why I dislike him. I hate paragons,"’ I answered, pettish- ly. ‘Thave always had ahorror of saints ever since the days when I used to shudder over Fox’s Book of Mar- tyrs.” «I might tell you of all the good he has done, with his great fortune; of scores of young men and women whom he has educated and made self- helpful and independent.” “O, don't tell me any thing; I don’t want to hoar it. I am heartily tired of him—tired of having our walks and talks interrupted by astranger, a per- son whom I do not and never could like.”” Mr. Brand had joined us unobserved, coming up so quietly that he must have heard and fully comprehended my last ungracious speech. As usual, it made not the slightest impression upon him, and he laughed and chatted as pleasantly as if nothing had been said. Father was not so indifferent, and could not conceal his embarass- ment. Tomy horror, he excused him- self upon the pretext of going back to the houso to get a shawl for me, as we had decided to walk to aledge of rocks on the shore, from which I had ex- pressed a desire to sce the sun set. a8 red, brief that he will never cease to t he will never lose sight if you should change your “T shall never change my mind.”” He kept his word, and left the next morning before I came down to break- fast. My father and I returned to New | York the following week. During the winter I met Lieutenant Storey, who had graduated from West Point, two years before, and had just returned from the frontier on leave of absenea. This was the winter of 1860-61, and the country was wild with excitement over the impending trouble between the North and South which was then as- suming adecisive character. Lieuten- ant Storey's family were Southegn people. Their home was in Charies- ton, and their sympathies, as a mat- ter of course, were with the seceding States. My father, on the contrary was uncompromiaing in his devotion to the interests of the North. In the face of such conflicting opinions % was preordained that we should be- como infatuated with each other after a brief acquaintance. Robert Storey was an ideal lover, tall, dark, with eyes which few women could have re- sisted, and my father learned, after careful inquiry, that his character, as an officer and a gentleman, was unim- peachable. Father had a prophetic intuition of the breach which was to be widened between the two sections by the coming conflict, which others theught would be brief and unimpor- tant. He naturally opposed my mar- riago with aman whose services would. be enlisted in the Southern eause, which would necessitate my removal to Charleston, and eventually bring about my entire separation from him. I did not take this view of the situa- tion, but argued that my husband could resign, and, in any event, we could ail three live quietly together im New York. This was finally agreed upon, when, in the midst of the wed- ding preparations, father was seized with pneumonia, and died after a few I had dropped down upon a bench | hours’ illness. Aunt Priscilla embowered in laurel, upon which the] was in Europe, and I was clustered berries were already turn- entirely alone except for the ing. Mr. Brand immediately sat down beside me, and before I could utter a word of protest, seized my hand and pressed it passionately. Then he told me, in a very simple, straightforward way, that he loved me. “No, no, nol" exclaimed, tears of anger starting to my eyes. “I will not listen to you,’’ and I rushed back to the house by another path, that I might avoid meeting my father. The two did not return to supper, and I began to grow uneasy by this time, thinking the man capable of any thing. .At last, about nine o'clock, } heard them talking politics on the ver- andah, and the wind wafted the fra- grance of their cigars through my open window. few friends upon whom I had no claim whatever. There was no reason for delay, so I was quietly married im- mediately after the funcral, the sad- - dest of weddings, and went South with my husband, after all. The war came and he was killed at Shiloh. His family shared the poverty and suffering that overwhelmed the South. My father’s affairs were hope- lessly complicated by the war, and many of his investments proved valne- less, so that Iwas without means to come to their relief, beyond serving them and sympathizing with them as I was able. Of the grief and privation wo endured I will not write. Itis enough to say that all my earthly hope and happiness were buried for- ever in my husband's grave. On Tuesday afternoon, in 186% March 28th, Isat alone in the parlor sewing on some coarse cloth The clock ticking monatonously en the mantle, echoed through the empty rooms. The early Southern spring was in the fullness of its beauty. The day had been oppressively sultry but the wind had changed to the east and the sky was suddenly overcast. Ilooked up, and there, upon the threshold, regarding me with the old look I remembered so well, stood Reginald Brand, whom I had So& heard of, much less seen, for more than four years. He wore the uniform of a Union officer. He was slightly pale, but otherwise appeared preefeo~ ly as he looked when I had last seem him. Thad as trange, indescribable feciing, more horror than alarm, threw down my sewing and rose to go toward him. As I did so he smiled faintly, and said distinctly, pausing slightly between each word: < “-Free—at—last.”’ Some mysterious impulse prompted me to look at the clock It was | Do “NO, NO, NO!’ I EXCLAIMED. I was thoroughly angry with my father for his stubborn loyalty to his friend, notwithstanding my un- concealed repugnance and avowed dislike, and determined to tell him all that had occurred. Pres- ently I heard them say good-night, and almost immediately father knocked at my door. I opened it and resumed my seat on the sofa, he just exactly a quarter to five. crossing the room and seating him-{ When I turned my head agaim self beside me. He asked no explana- (7 appeared to be the victim — tion of my capricious behavior, and J did not wait to be questioned, but made a clean breast of it. He only smiled, and completely non- plussed me by saying, quietly: “Well, my dear, I know all this al- ready,"? «“Why—how!”’ I stammered, amazed. “Mr, Brand told me himself.”’ “Mr. Brand!’ I exclaimed. “Yes; and he desires me to make his peace with you. You are too young yet to have such experiences, and I would have shielded you from this, but there was no help for it. I shall have to tell you that he first asked my permission to win you if he could. As I have told you, I know him thoroughly. But Ihad always deter- mined that my daughter should please herself, for I have confidence enough in her to believe that she will never be impeled to make an unworthy choice. I acknowledge the disparity of your but 1 know that men like Rs gi- aald Brand are rare, and I could not help hoping that you would finally be induced to accept him He is as true as steel, and 1 know of no one to whom { would so willingly confide my daugh- ter’s life and happiness. I would not } intercede for him, however, or say or j do any thing to bias your decision. I only gave him my permission to win i of some horrible optical illusion. The man melted away before my sight — form and outline vanishing into the atmosphere like a dissdiving cloud. I knew, then, what had happened, but to convince myself that it was Bo’ reality, at least, what is called reality, I went out of the house and searched everywhere, but the family were away from home, and there was no other living presence about the premises but. myself. In a few weeks I learned that Reginald Brand had been killed before. Richmond, precisely at a quarter to five on the very day he appeared te me, and that his last words were those: which I also was strangely destined hear. I was also notified, through eo attorney, that be had kept himself ip- formed as to my whereabouts & é with the exception of a few legacies charitable institutions and relatives, had bequeathed me his ep- tire fortune. . Maxx H. Krove. English Spavin Liniment removes hard, sof; or calloused lumps and blem~ ishes trom horses, vlood spavin, cusB, splints, sweeney, stifies, sprains, rorgan® swollen throat, coughs, etc. Save fifty dollars by use of one bettie. Warranted Sold by W. J. 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