The Wingham Times, 1885-08-21, Page 3,141104 -Journey,
as we speed Out of youth's sunny station,
The traok seems to shine in tae;ilght:
But it eLddenly shoots over chasms,
.And slake into tunnels of night:
And the hearts that were brave In the morning
Are filled with repiniage and fears,
Aa they pause at the City of Sorrow,
Or pass through the Valley of Tears.
But the pith for this perilous railway
The hand of the Master h made ;
With all its discomforts and dangers,
We need not be end or afraid.
Stoade leading from dark into darkneep,
Roads plunging from gloom to despafr,
Wind out thro' the tunnele of midnight
To the fields that are blooming and fair.
Tho' the rooks and their shadows surround us,
Tho' we catch not ono gleam of the day,
Above us fair oittee aro Laughing
And dirping white ret in so e ay
And always—eternal- forever,— '•
Down over the wale in the west,
The last final end of our journey,
There lips the great Station of Rest.
'Te the grand central point of all railways;
All roads cluster here whore they end :
'Tie the final resort of all tourists;
All rival tines moot hero and blend.
All tickets, or mile -books, or passes,
If stolen, or begged for or bought,
Oa whatever road or division,
Will bring you at last to this spot.
If you pause at the City of Trouble,
Or wait in the Valley of Tears,
Be patient—the train will move onward,
And sweep down the track of tho years.
Wherever the plane to you souk for,
Whatever your aim or your quest,
You will comp at the last with rejoicing
To the beautiful Station of hest.
STORM AND SUNSHINE,
CHAPTER 11I.— (CONTINUED.)
And this would be no small sacrifice on
my part ; the future holds great poesibil't'es
for little fair-haired Lisle Warburton. When
I am of age I shall come into upwards of
two thousand a year—even now I have two
hundred to do what I like with—more pretty
dresses and furs than I can find any use for,
trinkets and laces without end. My aunts
receive' three hundred a year for my main-
tenance ; I might havo a maid of my own if
they had not abanrdly decided that it was
better to make me attend upon myself.
All this' wealth had come to me most un-
expectedly about ten years ago, my mother's
last surviving brother having died in Aus-
tralia very rich, and I being the sole descend•
ant of the Incledon family then extant. I
was a child at school near London at the
time ; but on my accession to fortune my
guardians or trustees had transferred me to
a much more expensive school abroad, given
me an allowance, and one of them, who had
been a friend of my uncle's, had had me to
his house in Paris during the. vacations. My
aunt, Mrs. Toni Incledon, the widow of an-
other of my mother's brothers, had hitherto
taken charge of mo ; but she had died a few
months previonaly, and I suppose I ahonld
have come to live at Osierbrook if thio for-
tune had not turned np' in the meantime.
So that, however my aunts may try to keep
Inc in subjection now, the day is not very
far distant when I shall be a person of some
importance.
They do not care whether I even "come
'out ".or not, whether 'I am presented at
Court, or have any of the advantages which
my brilliant " prospects " might have led
me to expect; in fact, I believe they would
be much better pleased if 1 renounced the
world altogether, and made up my mind to
,pond the rent of mylifeat Osierbrook; but
I am only biding my time. I am young
and rich, and " pretty," as old Mollie says.
The name of Lisle Warburtohrahell make a
sensation yet in the great.:world of fashion
which my aunts think lonlY a little less hope_
lesaly given over to perdition than the lower
regions themselves!
" Erroll, this is My little friend, Lisle
Warburton."
I have just come into the great drawing•
room at Velfry, with a 'faint click clack of
high -heeled shoos, and a soft jv'ou-jrova of
my silken train. I have put on one of my
prettiest dinner-gowns—a pale blue silk,
which leaves my arms and shoulders bare ;
and I have fastened a broad band of tur-
quoises round, my throat, I feel I am leek-
ing my best, with my fluffy golden lecke
curling about my forehead, and a soft bright
colour in my choke, People tell me my
face ie like a kitten's face—so fair and inno-
oent, with such a broad space between the
eyes.
Of course I am no judge of my own ap-
pearance, and people may flatter me a
little—the girls I know used to flatter me''
at school; but •I think I am pretty, and I ,
know my arms aro white and dimpled, and
that my dross fits me to perfection. There-
fore 1 do not feel at all indisposed when
Mrs, Rutherford introduces me to a tall and
very' handsome fair-haired man in evening -
dress who had been standing with her in tho
window when I came in, nor at all surprised
when ho opens his gray oyes in a look of
astonished admiration.
Mother,, where did you find this Dresden
shepherdess? I did not think anything se
otherial could bo made 'of real flesh and
blood !"
"I am sure .Lisle is quite real enough to
feel very hungry," Mrs, Rutherfurd smiles
pleasantly ; " so, if you will give hor your
r
Arne, 4l:rroll, I 8011 follow a ott!ttpto 'the
dining -room,"
This first evening at, Velfry 'gives me a
delightful foretaste of the triumphs I had
promised myself when I should go out into
the fashionable. world ,of which Ilea,,h€aid
and read, but of which I had hitherto.aeen
nothing. I believe Erroll Rutjierfued fell
in love with nee at'•first ,sight, and I know
that bofore I go up to my room at eleven
o'clock I have lost as' much of my heart as it
was possible to lose -in the space of four
hours. I feel happier than I ever felt in my
life beforo. I begin dimly to comprehend
the great possibilities the world holds for
• me, to dream of what', that wonderful thing
called love may mean.
I have never even fancied that I oared for
any one yet except Judith. Irving ; but it
sends a little thrill of something more than
pleasure through my heart already to think
of Erroll 'Retherfurd,'to recollect 'how he
had looked at me, how he ,had spoken to me
—not as to a child, but as to a woman;,
gently, reverently, chivalrously—I had never
been so spoken to before in all my short ex-
istence—to be treated Iike a princess by this
man who himself seems like a prince. Itis
as novel as it is delightful, and has already
gone a good way towards turning my little,
head.
The next day we spend the delightful
first hour after breakfast in the Bunny old
Qardenr-Erroll and I ; he smoking, I walk-
ing beside 'him down the long green alleys,
and by the high wall where the cherries are
ripening, in my pretty morning -dress of
pale flowered chintz with pink bows, in
which he.says,I look more like a china ehep-
hordess than over, while the bees hum round
us and the warm wind sighs by, laden with
those " fitful blasts of balm that make the
air of life delicious"—or so the Laureate
says.
" Do you remember Judith Irving, Mr."
Rutherf urd ?"
"Oh, yes—quite well 1" he smiles, glanc-
ing round at me.
'! She told me you had been playfellows
as children.'',
I . .
nrd's name to ree,Q' Kox ;, intenae1y our,
But I cannot deny }l?,o probability of there
being some foundation forheroll's auapioien.
Judith had said elle would rather live here,
dull as' it•,is, than) anywhere else in'the
world,, She also ,seems- like a pegoon who
hay a ,octet -,.,who carets fpr, or has cared for,
tomobody very much, lint then Mr. Ruth-
erfurd had married before olio was grown
'up, end' had been confessedly heartbroken
as a widower over since.
I am surprised at Judith's throwing her
heart away upon a man who apparently
neither desired nor deserved it. And Yet
she is just the kind of girl who would 'bo
capable of such an act of self -immolations--
of just such a mad, vain; .foolish, obstinate,
unfortunate, peace -destroying passion -sof
just such a hopeless love.
" Shell we have a game of tennio 2" Erroll
asks a' moment later, throwing away hie
cigar. Wo saunter round to the tenn.ie-court
between the double row of walnut -trees, anti
while 1 am waiting for Erroll to fetch the
racquets Mrs. Rutherfurd comes out of the
house, followed by a rather slight, dark -
complexioned man, with a short gray beard.
" This is my eldest son, Lisle," she says,
smiling•gravely; and 14r. Rutherfurd shakes
hands with mer: and then atande quietly by
with hie hands in hie pocsete, while his
mother talks to me, looking away at the
old nun -dial 'on the grass -plot before the,
door.
CHAPTER IV.
The next few `days at Velfry are the
happiest I have ever known; Even now—
"' nay heart is like a prophet to my heart,
And tells me.1 ehall love." '
Erroll Rutherf;ard is alwayp with me—we
ride, row, play tennis, walk together; the:
long June days are all too. short for es—the
June days with their glorious mornings,
"''their long delidioua hfteleMoiii}i tbei' eamy
evenings.
Even at flight I lie awake thinking of him
eind'gaiiig over and overagain< all the fond
sweet things he had said to me during the
day. The liking that we had felt for each
pother on that very first evening has deepen-
" So we were. But I did not think she 4ed into a warmer feeling—we are,,;never
took sufficient interest in me ,von to tell (happy unless we are together, never satin-
you so much es that." •
;find unless we are looking at or listening to
" I don't know how much interest she ,each other.
takes in you," I answer, laughing ; "butI Mrs. Rntherfurdis pleased at the fancy
know you ought to feel flattered by her,:, Erroll and I have taken to each other. She
taking . the' trouble to speak about you at never tells me, but I can see it in the
all,"
happy contented expression of her, eyes
" I feel much more flattered by your re- ;,when she looks at us ; I know she arranges
membering what she said."
jthe amusements of each day with but one
" Do not you like her ?" I ask, looking up inion in view—that Erroll and. 1 shall enjoy
into the handsome smiling face. -them together.
• "Do you 2" _ . . ' Mr. Rutherfurd very seldom joins us, or
"Indeed I do—better than any one else stakes part in any entsrtainment that may
in the world 1" . "' ,,. - -•' = 'be going on at Valley. I see, • him at break -
He smiled at my e earneetnese. fast and dinner, and oocasional'y in the
" Then I must not say anything against'' 1 di•Ei'ieiliii renin', tafter, diprier,' but adldom at
her?,, . t, f 7r,:,p ''''' , • ', t ;i3ny other time,,;Ile, appeare to be:a-fierltve,
"Not to me, certainly'! But I, don't be- reserytedkind of mans !and, ' hetheri;he is
Aleve you could say anything 3againet.her,c t -still fret ing fol hie young wife; or whether
The things ;people say of her tied 'ale false 1' siicli'thinga poaeeaa no •intei'eat. for him,
" What do they day ,its her #'e;: he alto a " eticheWa xit'bo $ lLtennie- parties yvith
• little curiously. •• it persistence• win h ,agauees hie younger
" I am rot going to tell you. I dont° eehrotheri,i .-„' i.i.:.; • tiaras .. • ,,: ' _ '...e
know what they are saying, But etupidpeople ee ettItelpiilsaurninghisto;e. regular•edelity 1"
who can't understand her talk a great deal he laughs,- on one.. of7theee occasions. " I
bf nonsense—the feet is she is tbo aright think we meet ask Miss. Irving. to- Velfry,to
and clover fort, theta, ;and sees too elearl rouse hint mit of his apathy ", ,.
through their miserable make believes an, " I wish we could," i. answer, sigbipg, I
hypocrieiee.;i She isFlike a flash of electric t ave, not seen .Tudithi#or, yiir de's, and, net -
light ti a edtsuddtinly 'On a ball -room, show- withstanding my new` delicious sense of hap,
ing up all the wretched shams and pretenses pines,, I pine fora glimpse of my friend. r ,
which had passed mnater in the deoeptive " ,Next time ,you come,', ro¢e.rrr)u t i manage
rose-coloured glow of the oil -lamps 1" ' it,�!'Efroll says good.natured es. ,; t e
" Bravo, Miss Lisle 1 I wish I had a friend We are foIowingrtho. rest of the party
to stand up fortree like :thele !" es? , down through the pleasure -grounds to the
'Judith #foes liotwaiti:'i linyo$os. ftp'"'"sta'nd rivgr, Erroll. in white, flannel, ; boating clad=
up for' hor,t' t anewer,a flhshing., ! "And tomo, I in a pretty serge dress, turned up'
she does not care a fig what ignorant, stupid e with my fsvorite ,light quo, 'lV@'are going • heliotrope must always remind mo of it—I
prejudiced old people think of her ; she has to row ourselves down to an island wh re, wear.a krot of heliotrope in my white dress,
told mo`so"ashundrod'tuhes,j',:l..: there are the ruins'of' an old abbey; the fastened on the shoulder—that and the
" I must renew my acquaintance with servants have gone -before with our luncheon, string of pearls round my throat my only
this friend of yours," Erroll laughs, knock -It 14 a It:Adons 'mdrning, "'l the cuckoo telle 'iiinamonte.
ing'the ash off his cigar. " She must be hie name to all the)Iille." Erroll dances with me very often—one
something out of the common to have won "1 bolieve you would • rather have Miss : especially glorious waltz we have together,
such a warm little partisan." Irving here than me, Lisle Erroll 'says. and when it is ovor we step out with the
"I wish Mrs. Buther£drd would ask her in, his boyish, aggrieved way, turtling to others through the open French windows on
to Velfry 1" I exclaim impetuously, "If she look at me as we walk clown the mosey to thelong terrace of smooth turf overlook -
took her u a little m aunts—and other .path under, the yews and laurels.
•
others, 1 steal a glance at Erroll. He looks
handsome in hie white dress with h'
THE BOOK'JOF dOD.
so an , his guy _
sunburnt face and fair curled hair hanging
The bible is the beat book in the world.—
about his forehead as he pulls the heavy John Adams,
boat—bareheaded, his alcoves rolled up to There is a book worth all other books
his elbgwa, his blue eyes laughing at me, which were ever printed,—Patrick Henry.
An hour or two later I find myself sitting The bible furnishes the only fitting vehicle
beside him on the edge ,cf the stream where to express the thoughts that overwhelm us
it rune narrgwly between the mainland and when contemplating the stellar universe. --
the island, brown and foaming over lichened
O. M. Mitchell,
rooks and boulders. As we sit, we can ace The grand old book of God still stand,,
up a long vista of leaf-ehoded pools, with and this old earth, the more its leaves are
shafts of sunshine glimmering down through turned over and pondered, the more it will
the branches and piercing golden through sustain and illustrate the sacred word.—
the
water—the sound of the 'water is alltheProf. Dana,
sound we hear, it indeed we hear it, being
All human discoveries seem to be made
so entirely occupied with looking at each, . only for the purpose of confirming more and
other, more strongly the truths contained in the
" We looked on the broom bank, sacred scriptures.— Sir John Herschel.
Wo looked on the burn,
And sidelong we looked on
Eaoh other in turn." with anything in the bible on my subjects,
" I wonder if you are as happy as I am, it always affords me a firm platform on
which to stand,—Lieut Maury.
In my investigation of natural science, I
have always found that whenever I can meet
Lisle 2"
"I am happy enough," I answer with So great is my veneration for the bible
truth . i :
" Yon are a dear little thing to say eo 1" that the earlier my children begin to r
" Why 1"—" Oh, because--" the more confident will be my hopes that
He is lying, face downwards, pullingthey will prove useful citizens to their coun-
try, and respectable members of society,—
daisies one by ono out of the soft turf. John Q. Adams,
"That is no reason 1" I laugh, looking at It ie impodsible to govern the world with -
the rushing golden brown water close to my , out God. He must be worse than an infidel
foot,
" I wonder if you care for me as much as . that lacks faith, and more than wicked that
I care for you 1" p has not gratitude enough to acknowledge his
He is throwing a daisy into the water as obligation.—George Washington.
he says it, and he does not look at me, If the God of love is most appropriately
" That depends entirely upon how mnoh I worshiped in the temple of religion, the God
you care for me 1" I laugh, watohing the of nature may be equally honored in the
daisy as it is caught in an eddy and whirled temple of science. Even from its lofty min -
round and round between. two of the brown arets the philosopher may summon the faith -
round
ful to prayer, and the priest and sage ex -
"Have you ever cared for anybody else, change altars without the compromise of
Lisle t"—" No." faith or knowledge,—Sir David Brewster.
" Perhaps you do not really care for me so •
much as you think ?" The Decay of Profanity.
"Very likely not," From having been the loudest and coarsest
" You provoking little thing 1". he laughs of swearers, Eaglish gentlemen have become
raising himself on his elbow. "I believe the moat intolerant of profane expressions,
you are thinking of Judith Irving this very and even the mildest expletives are account -
moment." ed by them as bad taste. Soldier's and sail-
" Iimagine you think of her more than I ors ormerly looked upon awearing as a pro-
f
do," I answer a little jealously. feseional necessity, and perhaps still do so ;
" 1 ? I hate her.!" - but probably a man like Wolseley shares the
" You just fay that to vex me." 1 feeling of other English gentlemen with re -
"I do not want to vex you; but I do not spect to profanity, and we know that Grant
like you to be always thinking of that girl, went through all the excitement of the civil
" I often reproach myself for not thinking i war without an oath, though on both sides
*of her more. I have been so happy at the air was often blue with cursing. But, as
Velfry." we have said, most men sw, ar habitually or
" Have you, da -ling ?" he interrupts, with - occasionally. It seems to give them relief, or
a look which sends a thrill of passionate - they imagine that it does, and they know no
pleasure to my very heart. : other way of strengthening an assertion than
" How many questions you ask 1" I laugh, : by using an oath. In general, this swearing
shrugging my shouldere. is in good nature, or, at most, expresses only
"I mean to ask yon another before very momentary vexation, and often the profan-
long," he smiles quietly, ity id only indulged in as a banter, for In -
"I think I hear somebody calling us 1" I , stance, by the drivers in the streets, who
exclaim a little hurriedly. " Perhaps we will curse each other np and down, and still
had better go back to the others,"-• have no hard feelings. They simply swear
"I suppose it is that wretched Trevor 1" , for fun and to vary the monotony of exist -
he laughs, getting np lazily. " That fellow ' once. This applies only to thin country
is always spoiling the fun for other pepple though. In England one can mount upon a
-I suppose "because he can't knock up any 'bus at the Kensington Museum, and drive
for himself." through the g -eat and crowdedthoronghfaree
We saunter back to the others, or to all of London, all the way to the Bank of
that are forthcoming of the others, camped England, and not an oath nor an expletive
in a sunny hollow under the ruins. And I will be heard.
feel happier than ever, find more than ever
inclined to look upon it all as a dream from Behgion and Flies.
which I must some time awaken—such pas- " I would give nothing for that man's re-
sionate happiness cannot be meant,to last ! ligion whose dog and cat are not the better
But, if it does last, how can people call this for it, " said Rowland Hill. Unity adds:
a miserable world? One such hour as this, " Why not add one's flies? Shall we kill
I think, could make my whole life sweet. them—or take a moment longer, open the
Wo finish the evening with a dance at window, and banish them into the great out-
,Velfry, at which Mr. Rutherfurd puts in an side summer? The difference is no trifle
appearance, though he does not dance; I either to the flies or us, To the flies it is the
do not think I shall ever forget this night, difference between life and death. To us it
ter the waltzes they play ; the perfume of is the difference of our religion and irreligion.
It isn't ourreligion which will dash from life
the harmless buzzers; their crimp, a little an-
noyance their penalty; death. 'Do yon want
to see 'oor Dod, 'ittle fly?' said the 3 -year-
old, who held her captive in one hand,
while she raised the other : ' Oo s'all see
'oor Dad—there!' and down' came the hand,
slapping it out of existence, That God we
call a devil, and we pity the little child
whose home -creed taught it deviltry for
p y ing the garden. The air is warm and full o .divinity. But if that sort of thought would
peo plc -..could soon felicity ,her example." "I have khown her this longest," I anewpr the perfume of the flowers, the moony is make God a devil, that sort of act in us is
" Miss Irving freed;toconiehere. occasion- coquettishly, without meetiug'his eyes, rising serenely over the woodland, touching not religion,
ally beforo I went .to China:Does site never "Bet .that has nothing to . do with it. the house and garden with a silvery glimmer,
come now 2"- I have known Miss -Irving,,longer than I butacarcely bright enough to discern who
" au one is ma a me ,
Osierbrookat all events." terrace—certainly not bright enough to ee-
' "Perhaps you do like her bettor 1" veal us' to any one but each other as We
"You might persuade my mother to ask "Lisle 1" I smile, but will not look at lean over the stone balcony listening to the
her perhaps, 'She would do a great deal to hirri,'though I know he is looking at me, music and breathing in long draughts of
please you." , • •" Yeti aro the most horrid little girl I ever the delicious night air.
''She is very good to me," I answer, mot 1" "Lisle darling, I think you love me a
snill ing. "'But I wonder' Why she never „Iain egrets you thi;ak so. 't little ?"
asks Judith help now 2" " But I, don't think so,fortunat l I His arms are round me, his face stooped
"I will tell you what I think," Erroll „ y'
returns ravel "I fano m mother had think you aro the dearest— to mine, pale in the light of the moon,
an idea that bliss Irving was nutting her A c•
ouple ahead of us stop to ask some. "Lisle, tell me. Is it true 2"
cap at'iny brother Isaiah= atleas`t I thought thing about the way. Erroll never finishes I let him hold Inc so, close to his heart.
so before I went to China throe years ago,: his sentence ; but I stand there for a moment, dumb
A word can bring the colour to nay cheek ; With perfect joy, perplexed for utterance,
And, as I suppose you are aw110e,
are that; A word can all my wpm with happy dew." , But lie makes me say it 'at last. And po
mother ever thinks any girl good enough Erroll loved me and I love him. The -tee linger in tho moonlight a little longer,
for her son, my respected parent disoour- thought makes mo- intolerably happy -so murmuring, "I know not what of strange
aged Miss Judith's visits to Velfry, • That happy that 1 hear and see everything like and sweet," and exchanging
at least is the only solution 1 can find for
have known you,' d d tl t k is who" of the shadowy groups about the
" She:has neeer been hero since I came to like. her hotter ?" .
ono in a dream—the laughter, the blue sky,
"Vows, whore there is never Hood cf vows,
the enigma. I never asked my mother any the Broad shining river, the happy faces, And kisses, whore the heart on one wild leap
questions on the subject, nor did she vouch- the crowded boat, the green island, with lit Hangs tranced from all pulsation, at Above
safe any information, But I think it was hoary ruin standing up fair and solemn The allhe rmystic
between thou laity fleeting
pato,
very probably just ad I Bay." against the faint blue of the summer sky, Sow all their myett ;guile with tleoting stare:'
" Judith never mentioned Mrs, Ruther- Whenever I can do so unobserved by th • (To BE CONTINUED.)
The White Feather.
It is well known that the phrase, "To
show the white feather," is a synonym for
cowardice, and it 'le said that no gamecock
has a white feather. This expression must
formerly have had a different meaning, as it
arose during the war between the early set-
tlors and the North Amerioan Indiana. A
Quaker, who refused to fly for safety, on
clay saw a band of Indians swooping down
upon his home. As the tenets of his faith
would not allow him to receive them with
a volley of powder andball, he invited them
in, and net food before them. The good,
hearty meal so softened the savage heart
that, on leaving, the chief fastened a white
feather on the door as a badge of friendship
and peace, Although of tor this many savage
bands passe 1 that dwelling, none over vio-
lated the treaty by injuring the house or its
inmates,
Old age is a tyrant that forbids the plea-
sures of youth on pain of death,