The Butler Weekly Times Newspaper, February 17, 1898, Page 3

iommeaiiihdt. RAR q Roger Malvin’s Burial. py NATHANIAL HAWTHORNE. |overcome you, but eend hitherward Hssissip pl Tare, mocratand | two or three that may b> spared to {fawmalot Agriculture. of the few incidents of Indian | naturally susceptible of the ight of romance was that ex- jon undertaken for the defence of the frontiers in the year 1725 «resulted in the well remem- “Lovell’s Fight.” Some of incident will be recognized, not- withstanding the substitution of } fotitioue names, by such as have peard from old men’s lips the fate of the few combatants who were in a condition to retreat after ‘Lovell’s Piety sunbeams hovered cheer- fally upon the treetops beneath which two weary and wounded men pad stretched their limbs the night before. The severe wound of the elder man had probably deprived him of sleep, for so soon as the first ray of sunshine rested on the top of the highest tree, he reared himself painfully from his recumbent posi- tion and sat erect. He tvrned ‘his to the companion who reclined his side. The youth—for he had search for me.” length raised himself from ground and prepared for parture. Climbing to the summit! of the rock, which, on one side was| rough and broken, he bent the oak | sapling downward and bound his} handkerchief to the topmoet branch. | The handkerchief had been the bandage of a wound upon Reuben’s| arm, and as he bound it to tie tree, he vowed by the blood that stained it, that he would returo, to his de-| eithe- his body in tha grave. He then de scended and stood waiting t> receive Roger Malvin’s parting words. “Carry my blessing to and say that my last prayer shal! be} for her and you. Bid her to have} no hard thoughts because you left| me here’—Reuben’s heart smote him—“‘for that your life would not have weighed with you if the sacri- fice could have done m2 good. She searcely attained the yearc of man | will macry you after she has mouro hood—lay with his head upon his |ed a little while for her father, and arm in the embrace of an unquiet | Heaven grant you long and | happy sleep. His slumbers were bringing days, and may your children’s cbil- back a vision of the conflict of which | dren stand round your death-bed! he was one of the few survivors. A And Reuban.” he said as the weak- shout—deep and loud in his dream. | nes8 of mortality made its way at ing fancy—found its way in an im last, “return when your wounds are perfect murmur to his lips, and, healed and your weariness refreshed starting even at the slight sound of | —return to this wild rock and lay his own voice, he euddenly awoke.|™y bones in the grave and The firat act of reviving recollection | Prayer over them.” wus to make anxious imquiries re-| Reuben, therefore, felt the full im- specting the condition of his wound. | portance of the promise which he so ed fellow-trayeler. solemnly made to retura and per- The latter shook his head. ‘“Reu-|form Roger Malvern’s obsequies. ben, my boy,” said he, “this rock|It was remarkable that the latter, beneath which we sit will serve for a} speaking his whole heart in his part- hunter's gravestone. The Indian|ing words, no longer endeavored to bullet was deadlier that I thought.” | persuade the youth that eveo the “You are weary with our three|speediest succor might avail to the days’ travel,” replied the youth, “‘and| preservation of his life. Reuben alittle longer rest will recruit you.”| was internally convinced that he “There is not two days’ life in|should see Malvin’s living face no me, Reuben,” said the other calmly, } more. “and I willno longer burden you| “It is enough,” said Roger, having with my useless body, when you can | listened to Reuben’s promise. ‘‘Go, scarcely support your own. For me|and God speed you!” there is no hope, and I will await The youth pressed his band in si- death here.” lence, turned, and was departing. “Ifit must be so I will remain| His slow and faltering steps, how- and watch by you,’ said Reuben, | ever, had borne him but a little way, resolutely. before Malyin’s yoice recalled him. “No, my son—no,” rejoined his ‘Reuben, Reuben!” said he, faint- companion. “Let the wish of a dy-|ty; and Reuben returned and knelt ing man haye weight with you; give|down by the dying man. me one grasp of your hand, and get| ‘‘Raise me and let me lean back you hence. I have loved you like a| against the rock,” was his last re- father, Reuben, and at a time like|quest. ‘My face will be turned to- this, I should have something of a| ward home, and I shall see you a Doreis, say a save his companion’s life or to lay |a- your back with your friends when | bleeding myself, I supported him; | remember it well,” you meet them lest your weariness |I gave him half my strength and led | while many thoughts occasoned a | him away with me. For three days we journeyed on together, and your! Reuben Bourne, but half convine-| hopes, but, awaking at sunrise on} “He died!” exclaimed Doreas, | faintly. Reuben felt it impossible to ac- knowledge that his selfish love of! life had hurried him away before | her father’s fate was decided. He | spoke vo’, ha oaly bowed his head. | Dorcas wapt wien her fears were! nod; but the shock, long t d, was on that account the “You dug ez giave for fatber in my poor Reuben?” | jerness, was tire ques ion by piety m Litself. “My bh were weak, but I did what I could,” replied the youth, in asmoth-red tone. “There standsa noble tombstone above his head, and I would to Heaven I slept as sound- ly as he!” Doreas, perceiving the wildness of his latter words, inquired no fur ther at that time, but her heart found ease in the thought that Rog- er Melvin had not lacked such funer- al rites as it was possible to bestow. In the course of a few years after their marriage, changes Legan to be j visible in the external prosperity of Reuben and Dorcas. The only riches of the former had been a stout heart and strong arm, but the latter, ber father’s sole heiress, had made her husband master of a farm under cul tivation, larger and better stocked than most of the frontier establish- ments. Reuben Bourne, however, was a neglectful husbandman, and, while the lands of the other settlers became annually more fruitful, bis deteriorated im proportion The only child of Reuben and Dorcas was a son, now arrived at the age of fifteen years, beautiful in youth and giving promise of a glo- rious manhood. The Boy was loved by his father with a deep and silent strength, as if whatever was good and happy in his own nature had been transferred to his child, carry- ing his affections with it. Even Dor cas, though loving and beloved, was far less dear to him, for Reuben’s secret thoughts and insulated emo- tions had gradually made him a selfish man, and he could no longer love deeply except where he saw or which her filial| rapid pace gradually slackened as muttered he, | tion of his posture and appearance. “For the love of Heaven, Reuben, momentary confusion in his speak to me!” cried Dorcas, and the, mind. “Where am I? Whither am I wan- Reuben, in his last moments, and the thought of the faithful care you took of him has comforted me many but dreamless, upon the fallen leaves. Had a the forest tudden w youthful overcome - ee Fat Poison mm Sausage, Washington, D <, Feb. 10 Congres: d of the First dis- : ' | Strange sound of her own voice af- | trict, B # Second district father was sustained beyond my dering? Where did I leave him?” frighted her even more than the | their families and private secretari a “It was near this time of the! dead silence Were all ed ceeatunhae oh th iy ed that he was acting rightly, at the fourth day, I found him faint/ month, eightean years ago that my; Her husband started, stared into boarding } East Ca ital the! and exhausted. He was unable to! poor father left this world for a bet-| her face, drew her to the front of | street by eat bat ae alle aes a proceed; his life hed ebbed away/ter. He had a kind arm to hold his’ the rock and pointed with his fin-| be choice rai fast, andi—” |head and a kind voice to cheer him,! ger. Ob, there lay the boy, asleep Last twenty were and to-day, while times since. Oh, death would have! Would his 8 voice are out of danger, been awful to a solitary man in a/him? She knew that it was death. of both families are and in place like thie!” “This broad rock is the grave-, bed. Both Congressmen Bodine and “Pray Heaven, Dorcas,” said Reu-| stone of your near kindred, Dorcas,’ ben, in a brokea yoice—“pray Heavy-| said her husband. “Y ur tears will the gloomy pines. Reuben Bourne’s|from the sufferer’s inmost soul she sank insensible by the side her \dead boy. At that moment the the words of Dorcas became less| withered topmost bough cf the oak acute. His steps were impercepti- | loosened itself in the stilly air and bly led almost in a circle, nor did he | fell in soft, light fragments upon the observe he was on the verge of a/ rock. upon the leaves, upcn Reuben, large tract of land heavily timbered, | upon his wife and child of the pang unintentionally isflicted by creaking of the trunks made a sound as ifthe forest were waking from slumber, Reuben instinctively raised | youth had made the blighted the musket that rested on his arm, | had come to redeem. His and cast a quick, shark glance on | expiated, the curse had gone from every side; but, convinced by a par- |him; and inthe bour when he bad tial observation that no animal was|shed blood dearer to him than his near, he would again give himself | Own, a prayer—the first for years up tohis thoughts. Perceiving the| went up to Heaven from the lips of motion of some object behind a| Reuben Bourne. thick veil of undergrowth, he fired | —- with the instict of a hunter and the| aim ofa practiced marksman. A| low moan which told of his success, and by which even animals can ex-|few miles northwest of here. A press their dying agony, was un | young man named William Cristoph heeded by Reuben Bourne What | fired two shots at Emil and Minnie were the recollections now breaking | Boos, both took effect in the girl's upon him? |side. He then went home and shot The thicket into which Reuben| himself twicein the cbest. Cris- had fired was near the summit of a/toph and the girl are in a critical swell of land, and was clustered | condition. around the base of a rock which in the shape and smoothness of one of its surfaces was not unlike a gigan- tic gravestone. As if reflected in a mirror its likeness was in Reuben’s memory. Yetin the next moment Reuben’s eye was caught by another change that time had effected since he last stood where he was now standing again—behind the earthy roots of the uptorn tree. The sap- | tears gushed out like water froma rock. The vow that the wounded man sin was Iowa Loyer Shoots at Three. New Hempton, Ja, Feb. 10 —Last vight a sbooting affray took place a Disappointment in love was the cause. advertising for bids for the con- struction of a water works plant, as the outgrowth of a fight with the present water works company. Sniiohininohhhnnnas + St. Joseph (Mo ) City Council is} A ss dp Lioyd were able to attend the ses- ee sicn of the House to-day en that neithsr of us three dies soli-| fall at once over your father and tary and lies unburied in this howling | your son.” A huge log fell. on Geo. Fox and wilderness!” ani he hastened away | She heard him not. With a wild brew Raegeer ey es eters leaving her t> watch the fire beneath shriek that seemed to force its way eee eee ae Wednesday, injuring both seriously. Fox may die THEINFLUENCE of tl of Mother shapes the course rm rencration goes and upon x through all the ; but not with pine trees. Whenever| Roger Malvin's bones. Then Reu rs the confines of the rustling of the branches or the! ben's heart was stricken, and the what care, there- Expectant Moth- great the yer and make her life joyous 1 happy. MOTHER'S FRIEND allays all Nervous- ness, re- lieves the Headache Cramps, and Nau- sea,and so fully pre- a. pares the system that Childbirth is made easy and the time of recovery short- ened—many say ‘stronger after than before confinement.” It in- sures safety to life of both moth- er and child. All who have used + Mother's Friend” say they will nev- er be without it again. No other remedy robs confinement of its pain “A customer whose wife used ‘Mother's Friend,’ 8 tha if she had to go through the ordeal d there were but four bottles to be ained, and the cost was $100.00 per bottle. he d have them.” Go, LayToy, Dayton, Ohio wou | Sent by Mail,on receipt of price, $1.00 PER BOT- T Book to * EXPECTANT MOTHERS” d {ree upon application, containing val- e information and voluntary testimonials | THe BRADFIELD REGULATOR CO., ATLANTA, Ga | SOLO BY ALL ORUGGISTS. oye lerce in manufactare.”” $3 ling to which he bad bound the blood stained symbol of his vow had increased and strengthened into an GR “A perfect type of the hivhest orter o” exce ? Sy Walter Baker & Co.’s & <e father’s authority. be gone, that I may die in peace.” “How terrible to wait the slow Icharge you to|moment longer as you pass among the trees.” Reuben, having made the desired approach of death in this solitude!”|alteration in ‘his companion’s pus- exclaimed he. “A brave man does not sbrink in the battle, and when friends stand round the bed, even women may dis composedly; but here—” “I shall not shrink even here, Reuben Bourne,” interrupted Malvin. “Iam a man of no weak heart; and if I were, there is a’ surer support than that of earthly friends. You are young, and life is dear to you.” “And your daughter? How shall I dare to meet her eye? exclaimed Reuben. “She will ask the fate of her father, whose life I vowed to defend with my own.” “Tell my daughter,” replied Roger Malvin, “that though yourself sore, wounded, weak and weary, you led my tottering footsteps many a mile and left me only at my earnest en- treaty because [ would not have your blood upon my soul.” A mournful smile played across the features of the dying man as he insinuated that unfounded hope— which however, was not without its effect on Reuben. No merely selfish motive, nor even the desolate condi- tion of Dorcas, could have induced him to desert his companion at that time. But his wishes seized upon the thought that Malvin’s life would be preserved, and his sanguine na- ture heightened almost toa certainty the remote possibility of procuring human aid. “Surely there is reason—weighty reason—to hope that friends are not far distant,’ he said, half aloud. “There fied one coward unwounded in the beginning of the fight and most probably he made good speed.” “Now go, my son, and may heaven prosper you!” he said. ture, again began his solitary pil- grimage. His wounds, irritated by the constant exertion in which lay the only hope of life, wore away bis strength, and at intervals confused his reason. But even in the wander- ings of intellect, Reuben’s young heart clung strongly to existence, and it was only through absolute incapacity of motion that he at last sank down beneath a tree, compelled there to await death. Tn this situation he was discover- ed by a party who upon the first in- telligence of the fight had been dis- patched to the relief of the survivors and they conveyed him to the near- est settlement, which chanced to be that of his own residence. Dorcas, in the simplicity of the elden time, watched by the bedside of her wounded lover, and adminis- tered all those comforts that are in the sele gift of woman’s heart and band. No authentic particulars of the battle had yet been circulated, nor could mothers, wives and chil- dren tell whether their loved ones were detained by captivity or by the stronger chain of death. Dorcas nourished her apprehen- sion in silence till one afternoon Reuben awoke from an unquiet sleep and seemed to recognize her more fully than at any time previous “My father, Reuben?” she began; | but the change in her lover's coun- tenance made her pause. “Your father was sore wounded in the battle, Dorcas, and he bade me not burden myself with him, but only to lead him to the lakeside, that he might quench his thirst and die. “Turn not|man in his extremity, and, though But I would not desert the old |, each of the pilgrims its peculiar al- leviations. Reuben, a moody man, misanthropic because unhappy— strode onward with his usual stern brow and downcast eye, feeling few regrets and disdaining to acknowl- edge any. Dorcas, while she wept abundantly over the broken ties by which her simple and affectionate nature had bound itself to every- thing, felt that the inhabitants of her inmost heart moved on with her, and that all else would be supplied wherever she might go. And the boy dashed one teardrop from his eye and thought of the adventurous pleasures of the untrodden forests. On the afternoon of the fifth day they halted and made their simple encampment nearly an hour before sunset. Reuben and his son, while Dorcas made ready their meal, pro- posed to wander out in search ef game, of which the day’s march had afforded no supply. Dorcas, in the meanwhile, bad seated herself near their fireof fallen branches, upon the moss grown and smouldering truok of a tree uprooted years be- fore. Her employment, diversified by cceasional glance at the pot now beginning to simmer over the blaze, was the perusal of the current year's | Massachusetts Almanac, which with Bible, comprised all the wealth of the family. literary None pay a cluded from society, and Dorcas mentioned, as were of importance, that it was now the twelfth of May. Her husband tarted. “The twelfth of May! I should the exception of an old leather-back | greater regard to arbitrary divisions | Wa ws apparently absorbed in the of the time than those who are ex-} if the information| had fluttered on that topmost bough when it was green and lovely, eigh- BALA AAESEE imagined some reflection or likeness | oak—far, indeed, from its maturity, x BR R E A KE A g T COCOA 4 of his own. but with no mean spread of shadowy ss EYE oA ES! AS £ UL, ; It was early in May that the little} branches. The middle and lower} 5; = rt fea family snapped asunder whatever branches were in luxuriant growth, 3 fi acer Purc—Delicious—Nutritious. eA tendrils of affection had clung to in- | but a blight had apparently stricken + 4 Costs Less than One Ceat a Cup. dee animate objects and bade farewell| the upper part of the oak, and the| <3 Be sure that you get the DORCHESTER, MASS. ee to the few in tbe blight of fortune| very topmost bough was withered,; <>{ _ ee ee OB called themselves their friends. The|sapless and utterly dead. Reuben| <5¥ Establishes , : emer a # ee sadness of parting moments bad to|remembered how the little banner; <= ~ WALTER BAKER & CO. Ltd. ate ith a ve ee wN teen years before. Whose guilt had blasted it? Dorcae, after the departure of the two hunters, continued her prepara- tione for their evening repast. She was aroused by the report of a gun F.J. TYGARD, President. a mother’s heart. “My beautiful young hunter! My boy has slain a deer!” che exclaimed, recollecting that ia the direction whence the shot proceeded Cyrus had gona to the chase. She waited a reasonable time to hear her son’s light step bounding oyer the rust- ling leaves to tell of his success. But he did not immediately apper, and she seat her cheerful voice among the trees in search of him. ‘Cyrus! Cyrus!” His coming was still delayed, and| she determined, as the report of the| gun hed been very near, to seek for | |him in person. Making her way| |round the foot of the rock. she sud-/ | denly found herself close to her hus- | | band, who kad approached in an-! lother direction. Leaning upon the| | butt o? his gun, the muzzle of which | | rested upon the withered leaves, he Capital, = furnished, titles examined papers drawn. ¥F.J.Txyocanp. were Jo. C. Hayes, Abstractor. contemplation of some object at his feet. “How is this Reuben? Have you slain the deer and fallen asleep over him!” axclaimed Dorcas, laughing cheerfally on her first slight observa- HON.J. B. NEWBEBRY, ; Bates County Investment Co., BUTLER, MO. Money to loan on real estate, at low rates. title to all lands and town lots in Bates county. securities always on hand and for sale. Hox. J. B. Newsarey, J.€ President. Vice-President. J.C.CLARE, Cashier Vice-Pree't. § THE BATES COUNTY BANK, in the vicinity of the encampment. BUTLER, Mo- r and either the sudden sound or her Successor to BATES COUNTY NATIONAL BANK. 5 loneliness by the glowing fire caused; ¢ EstaBtisieD Dxc., 1370. § her to tremble violently. The next » PITAT. 75 000 A General Bankin 4 f zs 1b, fo, ). -3- 4 “ momert she laughed in the pride of | CAPI pant tno = eer 5 = 850,000. Abstracts of Choice Abstracts of title and all kinds of real estate RRRARARA AR Craux, Sec’y. & Treas. 8. F. Warxock, 3 P THE BEST OFFER EVER MADE BY A NEWSPAPER. 34 'WEER PGE Usis $1.50. m with the semi-weekly Rey pee: z TIT T1 THE REPUBLI St. Lonis, Mo. i