The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa on August 12, 1896 · Page 3
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The Algona Upper Des Moines from Algona, Iowa · Page 3

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, August 12, 1896
Page 3
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BY CLARA AUGUSTA INTERNATIONAL P>P?E65 ASSOCIATION^ CfcAPTfife XVltt-i It was August now, and the weather it its hottest. Margie spent a large portion of her time out of doors, with only Leo for a companion. She sat, ohe lovely afternoon, on the banks of the rl^er, dividing her time between the char tu ing panorama of sunshine and shadow before her, and a book of poems in her lap, when there was a step at her side. She looked up, and saw the face of Louis CaStranii "Miss Harrison, you will, I trust, excuse me for seeking you here. But my wish to see you was so strong, that, on my way to the White Mountains, I left my party and turned aside here, to gratify the desire. You know you gave me permission?" "I did; but I hardly thought you would take advantage of it." "Perhaps I ought not to have clone so. Indeed, I tried hard not to. Are you 1 Very angry?" "No, I am not angry at all. I am glad to see you." She held out her hand. "So is Leo, too—only see him caper." The dog was leaping upon Mr. Castrani. with the liveliest demonstrations of joy. He patted the silky head. "It is something to be welcomed by a brute, Miss Harrison; their instincts are seldom at fault, I believe. Have you been well, Miss Harrison?" "Very well, thank you. And you? But I need not ask. Your looks answer for you. When did you leave New Tork?" "I have been in New York only a fortnight since I last saw you. Business has kept me elsewhere. I came from New York three days ago. What a beautiful spot you have hidden yourself "I r..m pleased to hear you say so. Isn't it lovely? But you must tell me about home. How are all my friends?" "They are all well. How mellowly the sunshine falls on the rough crags opposite; and what a picture for a painter to transfer to canvas!" "Yes, I have wished I were an artist, over and over again. But I have no talent in that direction. My friends are all well, you say? What of Miss Lee? Did you see her?" "Yes, she is- well. What are you reading?" lifting the book from the ground where it had fallen. Margie turned suddenly upon him and regarded him searchingly. 'iWhy do you evade answering my questions, Mr. Castrani? It is natural that I should want to hear something of the home from which I have been so long away, is it not? Why do you refuse-to satisfy my reasonable curiosity on that subject?" Castrani's handsome face clouded— He looked at her with tender pity in his eyes. "Miss Harrison, why will you press me further? Your friends are all well." "I know, but there is something behind that. Tell it to me at once." "I cannot—indeed, I cannot. You must hear it from other lips. I Would rather die .than cause you one single pang of sorrow." "You are very kind, Mr. Castranl— you mean generously—but I want to know." Some subtle Instinct seemed to 'tell her what she was to hear—for she added, "Is It of Miss Lee?" "I told you Miss Lee was well." "Mr. Castrani, I have given you moro ,cf my confidence that I have ever, bestowed on any other person, because I respect you above all men, and because I have perfect confidence In your honor. Has this matter, of which you hesitate to tell me, anything to do with—with Archer Trevlyn?" Her voice sank to a whisper, before the sentence was finished, for she had never spoken his name since that fear- fvsl night on which his guilt had been xsvealed to her, •'I will reply to your question by asking another; and, If it seems impertinent, remember that it is not so intended, and that I do not ask it from »ny vulgar feeling of curiosity." "You can ask nothing impertinent, Mr, Castrani," she replied, earnestly. "Thank you. I do not intend to, Are you betrothed to Archer Trevlyn?" She grew very pale, but her eyes met Jais fearlessly, "J was once, but it is all over now, 1 ' 1 with a dreary sigh, that was like the j breath of the autumn wind through the i dead leaves. "Before you left New York—was it i-pver before tbat?" "Yes, before I left New York, It was ; why I left there, I cannot tell jwu bow s—I, can never tell any buman a terrible necessity arose • us apart." Arch Trevjyn jarrison?" asked Detracting, hie dark, : indignation, i my baud tbat pevered i do not blame blm for tbat, tbat it should be lyn and Miss Lee are to be married in September " "To Miss Lee—married to Miss Lee? Great Heaven! And she Is awafe 6f his—What am I saying? What did 1 say? o, Mf. Castrani, excuse tne^-I am ,so—surprised—" She groped blindly for something to cling to, fell forward, and he received her senseless form in his arms. He held her silently a moment, his face wearing a look of Unutterable love and Sadness; then he put her down on the grass, and brought water In a large leaf from the stream. He bathed her forehead, tenderly as a mother might, murmuring over her words of gentleness and affection. "My poor Margie! My poor little «..*ling!" He pressed the little icy hands in his, but he did not kiss the lips he would have given half his life to have felt upon his. He was too honorable to take advantage of her helplessness. She revived after a While, and met his eyes as he knelt beside her. "Are you better?" he asked, gently. "Yes-, it is over now. I am sorry to have troubled you. I must depend on you to go to the house with me. Nurse Day will be glad to welcome you. And I must ask you not to alarm her by alluding to my sudden illness, I am quite well now." He gave her his arm, and they want up to the house together, followed by Leo. eyei i jlWrtMB.? Tow he §sked ( eagerly, 1-19(4 something in the thftt sprung up m hi glad light in bit eye. ? CHAPTER XIX. R C H E R TREV- lyn and Alexandrine Lee were married in September. It was a very quiet wedding, the bridegroom prefer- r i n g that there should be no parade or show on the occasion. Alexand r i h e and her mothflr both desired that it should take place in the fashionable church where they worshiped, but they yielded t» tlus wishes of Mr. Trevlyn. He deserved some deference, Mrs. Lee declared, for having behaved so handsomely. His presents to his brldo were superb. A set of diamonds, that were a little fortune in themselves, and a settlement of three thousand a year — pin money. The brown stone house was furnished, and there was no more elegant establishment in the city. Trevlyn House, the fine old. residence of f .. Iftts John Trevlyn, was closed. Only the old butler and his wife remained in the back wing, to air the rooms occasionally, and keep the moths out of the upholstery. For some reason, unexplained to himself, Archer never took his wife there. Perhaps the quiet rooms too forcibly reminded him of the woman he had loved and lost. Alexandrine's ambition was satisfied. At last she was the wife of a man whose love and admiration she bad coveted since her first acquaintance with him. From her heart she believed him guilty of the murder of Paul Lin- mere; but in spite of it, she had married him. She loved him intensely enough to pardon even that heinous crime. Her husband's admiration Alexandrine possessed, but she soon came to realize that he had told her the truth, when he said his heart was burlsd too deep to know resurrection, He was kind to her — very gentle, and kind, and generous — for it was not in Archer Trevlyn's nature to be unkind to anything — and ae felt that l:e owed her all respect and attention, in return for her love. Her every wish was gratified, Horses, carriages, servants, dress, waited her command, but not what she craved for more than all— his love, He never kissed her, never took her hands in his, or held her to him when he said good-by, as he freq-uentiy did, for several days' absence on igatters of business. He never called her Alexandrine — it was always Mrs. Trevlyn; and through the long winter evenings, when they were not at some ball «" party, and sat by their splendid f-teslde, he never put his head in her lap and let her soft flpgers caress his hair, as she bad seen other husbands «». In &ffl'" r> ir Louts Castrani again appeared In New York society. His appearance revived the old story of his devotion to Margaret Efarrlson, an4 people began to wonder why she had Staid away from home sp long, As soon as he h$ard of Castrant's ar« rival Archer Trevlyn sought Wm put. He thought he bad a right to know if his suspicions touching Margie were correct, DftBtran} peceiyed him (joldly but courteously. Trevlyn was not to be ve» pejjecl, but WPBt to the point at once, "Mr, Castrani/ 1 be said, "I believe I have to deal with a wan of honor, »9d I trust that win ao nje the fa* vor o; answering tbe questions I way Jtffl, 0, 89, He MyMBM fiftj Igye, DttU'Rewr lavs i understand ffiy pbsitldfi, 1 fatllfe bef jrou to indulge ffie in a little teff*ipgc* t J idn. tdu are dduBtleds Swarf ttttt at «ae time 1 wag engaged to Misi Mar- faret-Jisfftsoft?" "Sueh was the rttm&f, s!f." "It was coffe6i 1 loved hef dSe-ptf, fflndly, with toy whole soul—jttst fiS f teve her still—In spite of it alL" "Mh Trevlyn," said Castrani, wltfc cold reproof In his voice, "you have a wife." "I am awafe of it, but the fact doe* not change my feelings. 1 hate tried to kill all regard for Margaret ttarfl* son, but it is impossible. 1 can control It, but I cannot make It die. My wife knows it all—I told her freely—and knowing it, she was willing to bear my name. For some reason, unknown to me, Unexplained by Margaret, she cast me off. I had seen her only the day before the fatal note reached me—had held her in my arms and felt her kiss upon my lips." He stopped, controlling his emotion, and went on resolutely. "The next day I received a letter from her, a brief, cold, almost scornful letter. She renounced me utterly—she would never meet me again but as a ntranger. She need make no explanation, she said. My own conscience would teil me why she could no longer be anything to me. As if I had committed some crime. I should have sought her, from one end of the earth to the other, and won from her an explanation of her rejection, had it not been for the force of circumstances, which revealed to me that she left for tho North, in the early express—with you— or equivalent to that. She entered the train at the same time, and you were both in the same car. This fact, coupled with your well-known devotion to her, and her renunciation of me, satisfied me that she had fled from me, to the arms of—another lover." "Villain!" cried Castrani, starting from his chair, his face scarlet with indignation. "If it were not a disgrace to use violence upon a guer* 1 ;, I would thrash you soundly! You loved Margaret Harrison, and yet believed thai damnable falsehood of her! Out upon such love! She is, and was, as pure as the angels! Yes, you say truly, I was devoted to her. I would have given my life, yea, my soul's salvation, for her love! But she never cared for me. I never enticed her to do evil—I would not, i? I could, and I could not, if I would! Who repeated thfs vile slacc» der? Show him to me, and by heaven, his blood shall wipe out the stain!" All Trevlyn's pride and passion Isft him. His face lost its rigid tenseness, his ey«s grew moist. He forgave Castrani's insults, he told him Margaret was pure. He put out his hands and grasped those of his companion. "0, sir," he said, "I thank you—I thank you! You have made me aa happy as it is now possible for me to become. It is like going back to heaven after a long absenct, to know that sho was pure—that I was not deceived in her. 0, Margie! Margie! my wronged Margie! God forgive me for indulging such a thought of you." Castrani's hard face softened a little, as he witnessed the utter abandonment of the proud man before him. "You may well ask God to forgive you," he said. "You deserve the depths of perdition for harboring in your heart a thought against the purity of that woman. 'Archer Trevlyn, had she loved me as she did you, I would have cut off my right hand before I would have entertained a suspicion of sin in her! It is true sho went North on the same train as I did, but I did not know it until the journey was ended. Previous to that time I had not seen her for more than a fortnight, and I did not know she waa near me, until in Boston my attention was attracted by a crowd of 'roughs' gathered around a lady and a greyhound. The lady had lost her port- monnaie, and the crowd made sorno Insulting remarks which I took tho liberty of resenting, and when I saw the lady's face, to my amazement I recognized Margaret Harrison!" VARIOUS FIELDS. baft fiittilrt'i S6li«ih» tor ft tighten* Republie )fi Seslh —the latiit C#ol6 Kfcbbi-d— A Ulaf Atblote— Othe* Go«lp. !<*!£« and himself do it ft F Dah Stttftrt sUc- ceeds ih getting ft republic of his own In South America ere long there will be a different tale to tell about the poor, oppressed glovematt. To In* s sure full measure of success Dan would, of course, perennial president before any other body gets on the ground, and regarding the building of railroads and other things in the civilized line, he has a precedent in Harry Melggs to study up. As to obtaining proper recognition from other powers, including the United Stales, I have no doubt; in fact, it is a 10 to 1 proposition that as soon as the scrapper is free and independent, with a domain of his own, the powers would fall over one another in trying to get solid. A fighter is a fighter, he is at present and has been for some time shackled in this country; but let him once taste the full glory of freedom and see what sort of position he would take up. Did the reader ever speculate as to how many individuals of other walks ot life it requires to balance one single fighter? Figures in this line show a remarkable state of affairs. Bob Fitzsimmons, Jim Corbett, Peter Maher and Tom Sharkey—only four- put in tho same limits, with good telegraphic facilities, would make a bigger dent on the same map than the whole of England. not exactly sure that Stuart is getting ready to fit out an Individual South American republic. I only know that ho has disappeared in that direction more than once of late and that he is very mysterious about something. If this is not his plan it ought to be. ftfid light li*avle§, lie hftd Suaifty which" foSx«f B weti dined to feye askance afid lef atid $ number d! little peffofmahctm at his seemed td lend substafttie to ttie view. He got fais name by jumping 1ft fdf small limits 6f tfafee 6? foiif rounds and had btfxed his way wfthdtif goiftft out with Mahef, dhoyftskl, JPtStW Jackson and others. His great perform* ance Along in this line was his toppling ovof 6t Joe doddard in a three-round go, Ui Philadelphia, the first thumping th« Australian received In this country, Heftl-y Baker, who did the trick tot ButJer, used to mill around Chicago his home; he is ft light heavyweight some, but of late has called Milwaukee and would be quite a stiff one if it Were not for a defect of the lungs. Baker is afflicted with asthma, so that making a vigorous pass or so brings his bellows Wheezy, which necessitates his jumping away incessantly during a flght to recuperate. It's flght awhile and wheeze awhile with Henry. Under such conditions ho has always done very well indeed. Dub* After Corbett. Dub "defls" have swarmed in on Jim Corbett like lo'custs since his four- round draw with Tom Sharkey in San Francisco. But the worst of them and tho worst ever heard of emanated from Billy Smith, welterweight and ex-mystery man. Smith bragged he had $2,000 to bet he could knock Corbett out in six rounds. In England recently Smith acted as if he were not more than one remove from lunacy, which was thought to have been brought about by something in the climate over there. Maybe the dampness and fogs of 'Frisco have touched tho same button. Azbto'i Enrly Aaote, 2:04%, the champion gelding, by Whips, could have been purchased, so Mr. Hickok tells me, at buyer's option during his early days at Palo Alto. He was not fashionably bred and, being very large, was used on the plow. He kicked so badly that they had to take him out and use him as a utility horse. Some day I'll tell'you the whole story of Azote's early career Just as related to me by Mr. Hickok. Suffice it to say he cost Mr. Salisbury but $1,600 with a record of 2:14%. Every one knows how well he raced and at one, time he was thought to be the coming turf champion, but he would not quite reach, and it is more than likely his record of 2:04% is to bo the end of his extreme speed capacity. Just how much he could have been sold for is beyond me, but it would, have been very easy to have at one time obtained in tho vicinity of ?8,000 or $10,000 for the mammoth bay gelding. He is now turned out for a year. ., WAfttet* jrjgag«h;3 OH Ifcf ffi*8 8! ft* l*fBi*ft»4t Hi* A Popular Athlolo. J. D, Winsor, jr., was elected captain of the University of Pennsylvania track team a few days ago. Winsor is a good "I »k«U be happy to a»sw any in* wfeloh MPs Trtvlyn ?W prs* provide^ tfcey are net topfr» f reyJy» li suspicious tUut if thin be tbe ftw$*n^l|^«^ i 1 .^"? 1 \} i.*-..• (to BB co:mxaBD.» Thp "Waoht ain Klioln," Of the martial songs more particularly connected with the various periods of storm and stress In Germany, one of the most 'Celebrated Is that of the "Rhine." composed by Becker and answered -by Alfred de Musset in other well known verses. The "Waoht :am Rhein," by Max gchneckenburger, waa composed about the same period as t,he Rhine song, but attained Its widest popularity during the war of 1870, Unlike Becker's song, it cannot boast ot having been set to music by seventy composers, The patriotic song of "Deutschland, Deutschiand uber AHes," was tbe work of the popular writer, poet, philologist and hUtorlan, August Hoffmann, who was born at Fallersleben in tbe year 1798, For a time we find him acting as librarian and later as a professor at the university of Breslau, but tbe Ub' eral tendency of some of his writings. caused btm, in 1838, to be deprived o; his professional chair, For roan? years be was librarian to the g«ke o£ Hatibor and died in this sheltered pest in J87f Tbe German national aatbem, "Heli Pir iw 8leferkren«." was written originally for tbe blrtbd&y oC Cbrlatiau VJL, king of Denmark, by & Bpjstein clergyman, Tbe wdi ws written tg tbe sir of "God Sa, Ye tb$ King" in J79Q, ana ft f<m yelrs niedlfted for Prussian u%e.— Slmrkoy an UgotUt. According to a lady fight-writer on a San Francisco paper, Tom Sharkey hao hact a secret good opinion of himself for quite a long time. When other leitu thoughtful people were going along in just the usual routine, Sharkey was girding up his loins mentally for just about such a happening as transpired in his go with Corbett. Said Tom recently, to quote from.the lady: "Yes, I've had my eye on Corbett for a long time. I saw him knock oui; Sullivan in New Orleans, and I said to mfcself then that I'd try to do him some day." Mntlo a Mew Record, Arthur E. Smith is known in Chicago as the cycling letter carrier. He is a great distance rider and makes no more of breaking a record than he does of eating three meals a day, His latest feat in the record-breaking line was the riding from Chicago to New York in 137 hours and 21 minutes. He started from Chicago at 9;30 o'clock on Sunday and arrived at the city hall, New J. D. WINSOR, JR. athlete, but owes his election more to his popularity than to his athletic ability. He promises to fill the place acceptably and with much less friction than Is usually the case. He has the best wishes of his college mates. 4. p, SMITH. Vork, fagged out but triumphant, at 3:21 o'clock tbe following Saturday att» ernoon- He bad beaten tbe estetinf h,o. W rs t§ minutes, beia py IJonvor 1CU Smltli Agtiln. One of the results of the late Corbett- Sharkey stir-up in San Francisco was tho bringing to the surface again ol Denver Ed Smith and the posting by him of $1,000 in New York to go Corbett for tho heavy-weight championship. "Edward Denver" Smith, as call him in England, generally comes up for a brief spell whenever there is a, big contest or a championship go. Smith, in stacking up such an amount of earnest money, was honest and serious in purpose, or some 'one was honest and serious for him, for there is no doubt it was put up. Putting' up money and being willing to box, however, is not all there is to it. Especially in the case of Smith there are top many jobs he has not done by way of practical milling for him to expect to stir up enthusiasm in his case by merely showing that he is willing to go to work with a top notcher. Time on tho pugilistic dial swings round the circle with a swiftness that other and slower mortals know nothing of; early morning with the majority of us is very liable to -be past midnight with the pugilist, and Denver has failed to have a proper appreciation of tbe flight of time as measured by the timepiece, of his tribe. That »s not to say be Is exactly old—30 years is his age—but that he has not taken cognizance of the golden opportunities opened up to him by his whaling of Joe Goddard, the one and only one goo4 thing Smith has ever done. Tbat great event in Denver's life happened tho 3d of March, 1893, equal to about fifteen years of ordinary time, tbe account of whlcb I have unearthed only after delving deep jn some duoty archives, tntfo-ftiL wife, says the SL Ldiiis ftiftM first marriage 1 had been ft dissolved fry the death el helpmeet, The 'sgtiife hid i s'dft ._..._. Bob was a wild blade and jrtofiosed to •""? knaek.hls tether <«it 6l a se&twtd tftttoft/fr-> ttt the capacious bfeant pdcket 6? till 'sqtiire'si great coat reposed a pint * tickler, well filled, that that he vtb* , pose using on his way back from seeing • the Widow flrowtti ' ' - ' Now, just before he started Sob slip** ped the tickler dUt and put in Its place ^ ft small alarm clock, carefully wound and set for 11 p. mi The 'squire had sat the-flre but aMd was well on with his overcoat, hold-', • ing the widow's hand at ,thie v door and ' putting his sweetest words at tlie las't. '•' "Yes, your first husband, my deaf* • was one of my best friends, and we 11 i visit his and my lost Hannah's graves, won't we, love?" "Ah, yes, for where was there a. sweeter woman than your poor Hannah?" asked the widow. "A good woman; she was good enough, but there's a living one just as sweet," said the 'squire, and he was drawing her to him for a kiss wheh whizz-wizz'rt wizzr-hizzer-ting-whir-r- tlng! bang the clock went off Inside of him. "Oh, Lawd!" screamed the widow; "•he's shooting to pieces. It's Han-' nah's old peanny a-playln' inside of him!" "Shei said she'd haunt me! She allera told me so!" cried the 'squire, running in a stoop for his horse, with both hands pressed to his breast and the clock still striking, ting, ting. He rodo like old Nick was after him and never knew the racket till he felt for his tickler and pulled out the little clock that-Bob had bought at auction. Then he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks, but he promised Bob never to spark another woman if he'd only keep the joke from the neighbors.' The widow believes to this day 'that old man Bray Is a walking volcano and that his dead wife would set the batbery a-going if ever he wdnt near a woman again to make love to her. SEVEN-PEAR-OLD HEROINE. MUle Jotinle Shoots Suvos a Comtudo's Life. A wonderful exhibition: of nerve and coolness in the face of deadly peril waa shown Saturday by little Jennie /Sheets, aged seven. The cheers of 300 passengers on the Kansas City limited attested their admiration of her bravery. Passenger train No. 3 had just left Cabool, Mo. It being the Fourth, the railway company had sent out an uii- 'usually^ heavy train of eight passenger coaches", two express cars and two sleepers. A small trestle terminates a sharp curve a few miles east of Cabool. The train was making forty miles an hour when the curve was reached. Ae the train approached the trestle Engineer Jack Mcleven saw two women and two little girls on the trestle. To stop In lime was impossible. The women, who were the mothers of the children, jumped to the dry bed of the creek below, but the little ores remained on the trestle. Shouting to her little companion across the track without response, Jennie Sheets crossed to her, threw her on the extreme edge of the bridge sleeper and held her until the train passed. Engineer Mcleven stopped his train and led back 300 excited men s^A women to find little Jennie anxiously inquiring if her mother was hurt. They gave three cheers and a tiger as a tribute to Jennie's nerve.—New York World. -»i >-* ,y •i'.m of the Turf, Prince UersoheU, sold by Poble to parties in Italy, has been debarre4 trotting because not having prop' certificate, °f expqrtatian, ReajYllle (Mass.) mile track, \yjjj ?QQ aadjtiQnal stalls. They preparations for mm srjfj seems {9 he ft pgplUl , tfl tbe aawe oj Prince. . T gr§alr,ej" by fttt ' "itt 1 wm i n» si OW $n0M The Modern Fourth of July, The Fourth of July has a different ineaniag with each generation. In the earlier years of our country it was an emotional day. The feelings of exultation at liberty wrenched from a tyrant, and of compassion for nationalities still "under the oppressor's heel," and of pride in American prowess were the impulses which made the day heroic. In those swelling days patriotism was religion and the Fourth of July was a festival of piety— rough and riotous, yet essentially real, s In these days the Fourth has another significance. We do not go extensively • to hear orations. We do not take affectionate interest in having our ewQ' tlons kindled as did oijr forefathers. But we do think. This is tbe periqc} of thougbtfulness, Our people are beeln« , ning to realize that patriotism is a matter of details; that it Is sbP w « by atteny' lion to some specialty In public affair^."The arm-swinging and wild-eyed orator who talked generalities has passed. To.' day we are inerested }n tbe earnest men who oan^teacb us somewhat re» 4 r %tf| garding the public non-partlgan lema wbicb require the activity Qf qJt sens. Bdueatlon, wunipipal questing' \y the immigrant, the snffragej cb\ir#h 90$, > '' state, pnbUo order w$ public, en, JUUUr AHtfB J#l lift *q» of CalUsrtti^ uu .e-ea&Qu;: j ' . ment— these are some 9? t;be topics |ftto patriotism tsbd&y ia'" '" American,

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