The Herald, 1907-10-11, Page 3EXXXXMARTZ,MIMEMITITIMZIMIZSAM
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Nsti<VtZIr7,uMrCcMN'ns,ialNI°Jmt`t1<^ s7AN
"I know you will. Nelly. Well, dear-
est, in the first place, promise me never
to bear malice against anyone for my
death. Will you promise this? Remem-
ber, it is my dying request!"
"Oh, Willie, that is very hard, very
hard to do! But I will promise you to
pray daily for grace to forgive your de-
stroyers, Willie."
"And, secondly, bring up our children
in the knowledge and the fear of the
Lard!"
"I will do that to the best of my abil-
ity, Willie, if I live. But, oh! I shall
die! But for the children, I wish I
might."
You will not die, dearest; you will
live for your children, and every year
you will grow stronger and firmer, and
better able to guard and • guide them.
Now you are youthful, and tender, and
sensitive, and grief penetrates you
through and through, but after a while
you will have more fortitude and resiet-
anee. God will give it you. Ceud will sup-
port and strengthen you, And now, love,.
we must all kneel together for the last
time on earth, and ask t,ea for comfort
and support, in this, our parting hour:
And then, dearest Nelly, you must go
home, and take care of our child, and
leave me here with Father Goodrieh. He
has promised to remain with me to the
last, Nelly." And he gently unclasped
her arms from around his neck, and sat
her down and beckoned the priest.
Father Goodrich came, and they all
knelt and prayed together --except
Norah—she, too, not to disturb them,
knelt, but did not pray. And it war well
they could not see her face, so full of
anguish and rebellion. At last they
arose, strengthened and comforted—ex-
cept Norah!—who would not ask com-
fort, who would have hurled it back in
the face of angels, had it been offered.
A few minutes after this, the turn-
key's tap at the door warned them that
the final moment of separation had
come. The priest went and spoke a few
moments with that officer, then came
and told O'Leary to get the parting over
as soon as possible—the sooner it was
done, the less painful it would be, he
said. William got up and approached
Nelly.
"Come, dearest," he said, "you must
say good-bye, and leave me new," and
he drew her to his bosomy In a: last em-
brace.
She threw her arms around his neck,
clasping him convulsively, and dropped'
her fame upon his shoulder, to try to
smother the bursting sob.
"God bless you, Nelly! God in heav-
en bless you and sustain you, my dear-
est wife," he said, and pressed her closer
to his heart; but her fern felt heavier
in his arms, and was 9hppnig from them
before he perceived that she had faint-
ed. "It is better even so," he said, and
laid her in the arms of Father Goodrich,
who, deeply affected, bore her from the
cell.
O•jLeary went to his mother, and,
kneeling upon one knee. said.:
"Now, dearest anil best mother, bless
me, and embrace me, and leave me to
Heaven."
"And do you think that I will leave
Yalu, then?" asked Norah. "Do you
think that I will leave you while a pulse
beats in your heart? No, William, no!"
"Dearest mother, do not talk so, you
'must go, alas!"
"And do you bhii k that since they
will kill you, my boy, that any power, on
• earth shall tear me from you? No! No'!"
she exclaimed, wildly; "I will stay with
you while you live, and die with you
when you diel Oh 1 it will be better for
those left alive if I do!"
Norah remained iwth him through the
night, and followed closest behind him
when they led him forth to die. And
the crowd that attended him, the offi-
cers, reporters, clergymen and others,
' that shuddered not to see that pale
youth led forth to death, shuddered to
see that clerk and terrible woman in
such a scene, yet dreaded to interfere
with her. There was a calm and ele-
vated heroism in William O'Leary's look
and step as he mounted the scaffold; it
was not the party, or political; or patri-
otic heroism that has often sustained
men in the presence of death—it was
higher than either of those --it was sim
ple. Christian heroism—firm and patient
acceptance and endurance of the will of
Heaven.
Norah attended him to the scaffold,
and stood below when he mounted the
platform; a wild, frantic hope of a re-
prieve, a hope of some eperacle that
should manifest his innocence, or change
the immtuable determination of the
Governor, distracted her to the last.
She saw the clergyman and sheriff's of-
ficers grouped around him on the plat-
form; she saw the cap drawn over his
oyes, the cord adjusted, and still she
wildly hoped. She saw the sheriff and
the priest shake hands with him, and
descend the steps of the platform. She
saw him standing alone upon the drop,
and still she madly hoped—and while
she gazed, the drop fell! She saw him
swinging between heaven and earth, his
form convulsed in the agonies of the
violent death. and then hope and reason
fled forever! hating the sunlight, curs-
ing the earth, blaspheming Heaven, she
fled the scene, a maniac and a wanderer
over the wide world.
w
* * u x•
It was the good priest who took charge
of the poor remains of William O'Leary,
and saw them decently interred. Nelly,
half dead, but resigned, attended the
private burial. And the last care of the
good man, after an ineffectual search for
Norah, was to convey Nelly back to her
distant country home.
CHAPTER VII.
probablyy without friends. And now he
believed that the little, beautiful crea-
ture just east upon his care would newer
be reclaimed from him again. And at
that thought, despite the catastrophe
that had given her to him, he fell: a
atro-ig thrill of joy, of the proud. joy of
possession, 'such as, in boyhood, he had
once felt in capturing alive, a beautiful
eaglet! And standing over the sofa
where she lay sleeping, he lifted the rich
black ringlets and traced the pretty
eyebrows, black, sleek and tapering as
water -leeches, -with the same sort of
earnest delight' that he once drew out
the wings and gazed upon the bronzed
and burnished plumage of the eaglet!
He resolved' that nothing on earth, short
of the legal claim of some near relative,
should snatch bis prize from his bosom,
and he did not believe in the possibility
of such • a claim being made. No, this
beautiful creature was his own; the
only human creature that he owned. His
another, his sisters, were very dear to
him, but they were not his own; this
TM: beautiful little stranges was, Tfarm-
er's wife took,„charge of the child for
the night; they also provided her de-
liverer with a lodging. In the morning
the little lady was quite recovered. And
as her clothing hadbeen dried and ironed,
she appeared at the breakfast table quite
herself. She appeared to have retained a
distant recollection of all that had
passed, yet was ignorant of her father's
death; for, after breakfast, she 'came
forward to Daniel Hunter, and, with the
air of a little queen, placed her hand in
his, saying:
"Sir, I am very grateful to you for
saving me; and, sir, my father will be
too, and win tell you so better than I
can."
"Miss Augusta—"
"Lady Augusta," amended the little
one.
"Lady Augusta, then, you father was
—" He pasued. How could lie meet that
earnest, inquiring, yet confident gaze,
and tell her that her father was lost?
He concluded thus: "Your father, Au-
gusta, has not been seen since yester-
day."
Her start of wild alarm, her gaze of
intense anxiety, almost unmanned him;
but he saw that the only thing proper
to be done was to tell her the worst at
once. He did so, as gently and consid-
erately as possible, quite prepared for the
wild outburst of sorrow that followed.
And after this first outbreak of passion-
ate grief it was pitiable to see how the
little lady strove to maintain self-pos-
session in the presence of strangers.
In the course of the day she said to
him:
"I will ask you, sir, to be good enough
to write to my aunt, and I suppose these
good people will let me remain here until
I hear from her—she will send for me,
and pay them for thele tt-buble"
Daniel Hunter, like the majority of
our most distinguished men, in. every
department of fame, sprang, as has been
said, from the very humblest of the peo-
ple. His immediate progenitor was a
country blacksmith, in one of the west -
cern and mountainous districts of M—,
and the father of eleven children, six
sons, of whom the future Governor of
hi was the third, and five daugh-
ters.
It was while Daniel Hunter was yet
a village lawyer's clerk that the most
interesting and important event in his
domestic life occurred. It was this. He
had been sent by his principal on a con-
fidential mission to the city of A
FIe journeyed from his native mountains
acrener the country to B . Thence
he took a packet down the bay to the
city of his destination. Railways and
steamboats were not in use then.
On his return up the bay, the cabin
of the small packet was shared by two
other passengers, an old• man of .rever-
end, -clerical appearance, and a little girl,
dressed in deep mourning.
She was about eight years of age,
but her superior height, the regal cast
of her regular features, and the masses
of long, jetty ringlets ,•'hanging down
each side of her pale face,; made' her leek
two years older.
So strongly.. was Daniel Bunterat-
tracted toward this beautiful, pale enild
that he spoke toher, thinking .it .no,
breach of etiquette to address a strange
little girl on the deck of a packet boat;
but the little lady deemed otherwise.
Raising her jetty eyebrows with slight
‘surprise, and glancing at him from the
corners of her long, almost almond -
shaped eyes, she moved slowly off.
The next afternoon, when the packet
was entering the mouth of the P --o
River, they were overtaken by one of
those sudden squalls so frequent upon
the bay. The skipper put his head down
to the gangway, and vociferated to Dan-
iel Hunter and the old man, his fellow -
pa ssenger
"Come, come and help us, or we shall
all be in h-1 in five minutes!" z
Daniel Hunter sprang at once upon
the deck. But before a sail could be
reefed, the little vessel was driven fur-
iously toward the shore and capsized.
They were in the water, the skipper
and the three men that formed his crew,
buffeting the waves like lusty swim-
mers, and striking out for the shore.
Daniel Hunter looked wildly around the
heaving, foaming waters for the old man
and the child. The old man was never
seen again, but the child was thrown
up to the surface of the tossing waves.
Daniel Hunter saw her cast her white
arms wildly up and, uttering a strang-
ling cry, sink again. He struck out like
lightningfor the spot where she arose,
caught eer as she was sinking, and,
throwing her upon his shoulders, so that
all but her face should be under water,
he swam to the shore. The skipper and
his three mon were already there. There
was no one missing no one lost except
the old man. Daniel Hunter left 'the
crew on the beach to wait till the squall
should pass, and right their vessel if
they could, and, carrying his prize with
him, ran across the barren coast toward
a pine grove, from the midst of which
he saw smoke ascending. stere he found
a farm house, where every kind atten-
tion was given to the half -drowned child.
It was with strange emotion that the
youth gazed. upon his "prize," as he in-
etinetively considered her to 'be. All
that he knew or guessed of her was
that she was the child of the old man
who had perished—the child of his old
age—and that -both were foreigners just
arrived. From certain signs of penury
in their dress and conduct, he had judg-
ed that they were without means, and
A
{ 611 000 ti4�rt.
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New Orleans woman was thio.
'1
ecause she did not extract sufficient'
nourishment from her food.
She took SCOillt9 E aL ion
Result:
She gained a pound a day . in weigh.
ALL DIUIGGISTSR 5G.. AND $LOO
0043 44•414004044010411,14,01 424
ate e
411
0'
Tho youth trembled for his "prize."
He felt that under some circumstances
it was possible to be guilty of an abdue-
sized vessel had been righted, the little
girl's relative, and at '' lie same -time in-
formed .her that she. 't.ust accompany
lzim , o n
h me and 'remain ender the care
of
his parents until her natural protectors
could. be heard from, This'Augusta at
first politely but peremptorily refused
to do, persisting that, she would remain
under the protection of the farmer's
wife until she could put herself under
that of her aunt. Nor was it until the
farmer had totally declined such s charge
that sho consented to accompany Daniel
to Ms father's house, When the cap-
sized vessel had been riughted, the little
girl's trunk had been rescued, and the
farmer's kind wife had opened it and
overhauled its contents, and dried and
ironed them, and then repacked them,
to be in readiness when the travellers
should set out again. In kind considera-
tion of his charge, Daniel Hunter de-
clined going upon the water again, and
hired the farmer's carry -all to take them
to B—, where they entered the stage-
coach, which conveyed them the re-
mainder of the journey to St. Inez.
Daniel Hunter's mother listened to the
story of the squall and the capsized ves-
sel with surprise and curiosity, and re-
ceived the little orphan with much
maternal tenderness.
As months slid into a.. year, and no
letter had been received. from England,
the little girl was sent to a convent
school for a long term of years, and
Daniel Hunter, engrossed with his pro-
fession, and with polities—his passion—
did not see his protege during all these
years. It is true that lie ]rad not in-
tended so to abandon her; he had pur-
posed to visit her every year; but after
missing the first annual visit it was
easy to forego the succeeding ones. Be-
sides, the formal half -yearly reports of
the mother superior assured him of the
health and progress -of his little girl.
In the meantime, five years slipped
away; Augusta was now nearly seventeen
years of age. And at the close of the
term, the mother superior, instead of
sending her bill for the neat half-year in
advance, wrote to :remind Mr, :(;Iunter
that the time for which he had entered
his ward was up, and to know whether
lie intended to enter her for another
term.' This letter startled Daniel Hunter
from his temporary forgetfulness. He
bad lost all interest in Augusta as a
child and a plaything. The only remain -
hag interest lie felt in her was the gen-
erous one of a benefactor for the helpless
object of his benevolence.
It was with mingled feelings he set
out for the school to bring her home.
Augusta had grown up, yet as he sat in
the parlor of St. Joseph's,,,awaiting the
entrance of his little geed); the image of
a child was in his mind. The, door open-
ed, and,. a ,most beautiful dark woman,
of easy and dignified am 'and address,
entered. Yet he recognized her at once!
The unique character of her noble coun-
tenance had not changed, except to
mature in beauty, and there were the
same long, jetty ringlets,., only longer
and more abundant.
He arose, smiling, to receive her.
She •adanneed and , pieced both her
hands in his, and raised her e'er to his
0000 1 majestic eguntenanee, instinct with power
and goodness, and an overwhelming but
delightful sense of gratitude thrilled her
heart, and spokein eloquent light from
I
her dark eyes. t was a gratitude that
could not be put in words—that must be
Hived and acted out --so her speaking gaze
said before it sank under his eyes. He
drew forward a chair for her use, and
then seated himself. She inquired with
interest after each member of the family,
and testified much pleasure in hearing of
their health and prosperity. They talked
of several things, and then Augusta be-
came grave and thoughtful, and, finally,
after a little hesitation, said:
"Mr. Hunter, I have been reflecting
that I ought to make another effort to
open a communication with my aunt,
Mrs. Percival. I would not do it with-
out consulting you. But do you not
think it is probable that the two letters
you wrote to her nearly nine years ago
might have miscarried?"
"I do not think it probable that both
could have been lost. It is at most
barely possible."
"In consideration of such a possibility,
had I not better write?"
"If you think proper, Lady Augusta"
She slightly started, and even looked
disturbed, at hearing herself addressed
by a title she had lost for years, and he
saw it, and added:
"Yes, upon second thoughts, I think
you had better write, Augusta."
She smiled gently and seemed satis-
fied. And then they arranged their' de-
parture for his mother's house.
One morning a month later a foreign
letter, directed to "Lady Augusta Per-
cival," and dated Florence, was put in
her hands. It was from Mrs. Percival,
who stated herself to be an invalid, and,
for the benefit of her failing health, was
living in Florence, where her niece's
letter had been forwarded to her. She
further said that her niece might get her
friends to procure her a proper escort,
and come at once to FIorence, where her
aunt would be happy to receive' her, and,
having no children .of her own, might
possibly adopt and make her her heiress.
The letter endorsed a draft for five hun-
dred pounds for travelling expenses. Au-
gusta read this letter to her protectress,
and then inclosed at,,at once; to Daniel
Bunter, who was- stages' `;
Two days after that Dan
denly arrive home.
Augusta thought she had never seen
his look so pale and anxious. He sought
an interview with her at once.
"Well, Lady Augusta—this letter?" he
said.
"1 have not yet answered it."
"Why? You will go!"
"Do you wish me to go?" she asked;
then added: "Mr. Hunter, no one in the
world has a right to dispose of my des-
tiny but you—my deliverer, my bene-
factor, my friend.''
"Nay, Lady Augusta, you must forget
all that."
"Never! Do you wish me to go?" she
asked, in a depreciating voice.
"Nay, Augusta, do you want to go?"
"No, no!" she exclaimed, hastily, earn-
estly, and then her face was suffused
with sudden blushes, and her eyes drop-
ped beneath his searching gaze.
He drew her toward him, saying:
"I thought you did, my love! I
thought my eaglet pined. for her native
sphere. Else, why did you write to
your aunt?"
"I do not know; it was in the uncer-
tainty and anxiety I felt about the fu-
ture."
"Augusta, will you share my future?
It is not needful to tell you, dearest love,
all that you are to me; you know it
well—in a word, will you share my fu-
ture?" He encircled her form with his
arum, and for an answer she dropped her
head upon his shoulder. But he wanted
words—the unreasonable man! And he
persisted. "Say, Augusta, will you share
any future? It will be an unsettled,
wandering, tempestuous career—but will
you cast your lot with mine?"
"Through life and through death, if I
amyl" said. Augusta, lifting her head up
for a moment, and then letting it drop
ag
Thain.ree weeks later they were married.
Not long afterward, by the death of
her stunt, the Honorable Mrs. Percival,
Augusta came into possession of the
princely fortune,
(To by continued.)
ways shows that proper ventilation' • is
about as far away as it was ayear ago.
,9n employer of many men suggeste
that certain seats, properly labelled, be
set-aside in the New York City parks ,for
the use of persons who are willing and
anxious to work. ,It would. be of advan-
tage .to them and of assistance to those
who might wish to employ them.
A New York woman shopper of forty
years' experience suggests the pressing
need of a system to expedite making
purchases and getting goods and change
in. the department stores, instead of the
present method, which makes patrons lose
time and patience because employees
cannot be trusted.
"New York is a starless city," said a
recent resident as he sat on his newly-
acquired suburban porch and looked on
our neighbor Marc. "The only one to be
seen there are the so-called stars on the
stage, while the real stars are shut out
by buildings and the street lights that
blind the eyes to anything` beyond them."
There will be about ten thousand more
pupils in the public schools of New York
City this month than there were one year
ago at the opening of the sehools.
THE STOI1ACII ON STRIKE.
The Tonic Treatment for Indiges-
tion is the Most Successful.
Loss of appetite, coated tongue, bad.
tante in the mouth, heavy dull headache
and a dull sluggish feeling—these are
the symptoms or stomach trouble. They
indicate .that the stomach is on strike,
that it is no longer furnishing to the
blood. the full quota of nourishment that
the body demands, hence every organ
suffers. There are two methods of treat-
ment, the old one by which the stomach
is humored by the use of pre-digested
foods and artificial ferments, and the
new one—The Dr. Williams' Pink Pills
method—by which the stomach is toned
up to do the work nature intended of
it. A recent cure by the tonic treatment
is that of Mss. Jos, W. Biaskeil, Port
Maitland, N. S. She says: "For years I
enjoyed perfect health, but suddenly
headaches seized me. 1 had a bad taste
in my mouth; my tongue was coated; I
grew tired and oppressed; my appetite
left me and such food as I did eat only
caused distress. I had severe pains in
my chest. I lost all strength and was of-
ten seized with vomiting. At different
times I was treated by some of our deist
doctors, but although I followed their
treatment carefully I did not get any
better. One day while reading a paper
I came across a ease similar to mine,
which had been cured by Dr. Williams'
Pink Pills. I immediately purchased a
supply and it was not long before they
began to help me. I grew stronger day
by day till now I am as. healthy as I
ever was. I have a good appetite, sin
strong and active and can attend to my
household duties without fatigue. I have
esatation in recommending Dr. Wil-
nunsr"PlialcaPilli to all sufferers from ". .
indigestion."
Rheumatism, kidney trouble, neur-
algia, St. Vitus' dance, headache and
backache, palpitation, general weak-
ness, and a host of other troubles, find
their root in bad blood just as in the
case of stomach trouble. That is why the
Dr. Williams' Pink Pills treatment is
always a success—they are a powerful
blood builder and nerve tonic. Sold by
all druggists or direct from The Dr.
Williams' leledieine Co., Brockville, Ont.,
at 50 cents a bot or six boxes for $2.50.
STD
A good Cook for family ofp•
two. Highest wages paid.
References required.
Write MIIS. JOHN M. IhtSTWOOD,
P, 0. Box 97, Hamilton, Ont. g
Vistaaseseaeseeesiaosshwa'
NEW YORK ODDITIES.
The municipal expenses of New York
City are $14,700 each hour.
There are a greater number of persons
in New York City six years old than of
any other age.
No city in the world has so many near-
by pleasure places as New York City,
and no city presents so many discomforts
in getting to them.
Conditions in the New York City .sub-
_ LUSITANIA'S TELE1~HONES.
The System is as Complete as That of
Any Hotel.
The great size of the Lusitania neces-
sitates the adoption of some means by
which the navigators on the bridge
could communicate their orders to the
crow's nest, the rorecastle and the after -
most bridge without delay, and it was
considered equally desirable that pas-
sengers should be able to speak with
purser, stewards and the like without
incurring the fatigue and delay of a
journey which, in a ship of such vast
dimensions, might be very considerable.
The system adopted to secure this
communicability is that of the telephone,
and so thoroughly has it been carried
out that no hotel has a completer sys-
tem of 'telephonic communication. The
analogy between the stationary hotel
and that possessed of the power of rapid
locomotion is carried still further, for
just as the guest can secure trunk con-
nections and hold converse with those
at a distance, so can the passenger on
the Lusitania when that vessel is along-
side the stage or wharf at its mooring.
This is effected by linking the telephonic
system of the ship with the central ex-
change, thus enabling the passenger from
the privacy of his own cabin to talk with
any one in the town.
PAINLESS TEETHING.
There is no period in baby's life
that mothers dread more
unthre teeth-
ing ing time. The little gums tender
and inflamed; the child suffers and is
sleepless and cross•, and the mother is
usually worn .out caring for the child.
The use of Baby's Own Tablets al-
lays the inflammation, softens the ten-
der swollen gums, and brings the teeth
through painlessly. Mrs. N. Sauvo, St.
Bose de Lima, Que., Bayes "When my
baby was cutting his teeth he was fev-
erish, cross and did not take nourish-
ment. After giving him Babas Own
Tablets he cut six teeth without the
least trouble. I have never used any med-
icine for children I prize so highly as the
Teablets" Sold by all niedieine dealers
or by mail at 25 cents a box from the
Dr. Williams' Medicine Go., Brockville,
Oat.