Bath Independent, April 3, 1880

Bath Independent

April 03, 1880

View full page Start A Free Trial!

Issue date: Saturday, April 3, 1880

Pages available: 4

Previous edition: Saturday, March 27, 1880

Next edition: Saturday, April 10, 1880 - Used by the World's Finest Libraries and Institutions
About Bath IndependentAbout

Publication name: Bath Independent

Location: Bath, Maine

Pages available: 28,260

Years available: 1880 - 1961

Learn more about this publication
  • 2.18+ billion articles and growing everyday!
  • More than 400 years of papers. From 1607 to today!
  • Articles covering 50 U.S.States + 22 other countries
  • Powerful, time saving search features!
Start your membership to the world's largest newspaper archive now!
Start your genealogy search now!
See with your own eyes the newspapers your great-great grandparents held.

View sample pages : Bath Independent, April 03, 1880

All text in the Bath Independent April 3, 1880, Page 1.

Bath Independent (Newspaper) - April 3, 1880, Bath, Maine f ' c H, 1 ' | ,-f . :. , ..... . ��� il S l" ' ' ' I > *. 1 ,  ', , , ' A- I*ooal, Busineew, JLgprlonltmral and Newspaper. L vol. L_ bath, Maine, Saturday, april 3, isso. ------- ' . � -'-'-1-'--'-1-1--'�-� ' '---:-1-�--- .......... .......,--.---.-N0..-17.^' BESflft? THE fA&S. ;Gi'anama rose of Jane," He says, fall low, o'er the golden head. It would sound to her like a dear old tune, {Jould grandmother hear iheeoft words said. For it seems but a little while ago Stiles under the maple, beside the bar?, Bbe stood a girl, while tho sunset's flow Molted away 'mid the ovenlng stars. .". And one, her lover, so bright and brave, ; Spake words as tender, in tones as low j They corns to her now from beyond the grave, , The words of bor darling so long ago. "Sly own one, Bwoet as a rose in Jane!" Her eyes are dim and ber ba'r is white, Bnt her heart fceeps tiino to the old love-tune Asshe walches her daughter's child to-night. ^ A-world between-themrperhaps you say.  Yes. One baa read ihe story through; One has her beantlful yesterday, And oneto-morrow fair to.vlew. But little you dream how fond a prayer Qoes up to God throngh bis silver stars, From the oged'woman gazing tbere, Frtr the two who linger beside the bars. "?"' mab&4EET E. SaKOSTEH. Father and Daughter. A Story of the South. [We take the following intensely interesting chapter Jrom Mrs. Barnett's.siory "Louisiana" in Meribner's Magozine. The daughier and only child ot a planter-a widower-had oecJnTseht from home to a watering plate where she spent a few week-*, makiug the acquaintance of a joung Northern girl and bcr broiber. Louisiana, the girl, . had returned 1 ome dissatisfied with ihe pleasures which fnrronuded her, and her father hnd bnd,the'.old house rcmodclrd and refurnished. Bnt we will let the writer Ull the story.] Theyhadalong, quiet evening together. They feat before the fire; and Louisiana drew iter low seat hear him so' that she could rest her head upon her father's knee. , v "It's almost like old:tiihes," she said* "Letusjgretend Ineypr went away and that eVerything is as'it used to be. "Would ye it to be thataway, IiOtuaianny?" 1�V "edi ---ShS'^^gbirfg to say-" Yes";""but''sh^ remembered the changes he had made to please her, andshe turned her faoe and kissed the hand her cheek rested against "Ypumusn't fancy I don't think the new,,house,is beautiful,"- she said. "It , gn'f that I mean. Wh4t I would like to fcrlrig back 6^-is the feeling I used to have. That is all-nothing but the old feeling. And people can't always have the same feelings, can: they? Things change so as we get older." He looked at the crackling fire very hard for 6 minute. "Thet's so," he said. "ThetVso. Things ohanges in gin'ral, an' feelin's, now, they're our'us. ,Thar's things as kjm be altered an' things as cayn't--an' feelin's,: they cayn't. They're cur'us. Ef ye hurt 'em, now, thar's money; it ain't nowhar-it .don't do no good. Thai Bint nothf 'vi'i ftin buy as '11 set 'em eiraight. JE3f-^fer instants-money could buy back them feelin's of yourn-them as ye'd like to hev back-how ready an' wiilin' I'd be to trade fer 'em ! Lord 1 tjQW ready an' wiilin'! But it won't do it. Thar's whar it is. When they're gone a body hez to lam to git along without 'em." And they sat silent again for sbme tame, listening to the snapping of the dry wood burning in the great fire-place. When .they spoke next it was of a different subject. "Ef ye ainta-goin' to Europe-" the old man began. "And I'm not, father," Louisiana put in. "Ef ye ain't, we must set to work - rbdn' up right awayj This mornin' was arlayhy out. to myself to let it stay tell ye come back an' then hev it all ready fer ye-cheers an' tables-an' so- ?bias-an' merrorti-an'-Ue paintin's. laid out to do it slow, Louisianny, an: take time, an'' steddy a heap, an' to take advice from them es knows, afore I traded ary time. I lowed it'd be a heap better to take advice from them es knowed, Brown, ee owns the Springs, I 'lowed to' hev asked,him, now-he's used to fur-rdshin' up an' knows whair to trade an' what to trade fer. The paintin's, now- Pvc heenj it takes a heapb' experience to p{ok 'em, an' I aint hed no experience. I low I shouldn't know a good un when I seen it. Now, them piqters as was in %e parlor-ye know more than I do, I 4eMay-now,, them picters," he said, a Utfleunoertainly, "was they to say good, or-or only about middlio'r' She hesitated a second. _** Mother was fond of them," sh broke out, in'a burst of simple feeling. * Bemembering how she had stood beforo i thetoV^w'ahe had bnrned^vntS aHame before tiiem, ahe was, stricken with a bitter pang of remorse. Mother was fond.of them,", she; said, , >"Tlietfa bo," he answered, airtfrjly. "Tbe/t's so, bt^e was; an' you j^bein' so soft-hearted ah' twder^Jilakei it sorter thet makes the good in 'em. Ianthy she warnt fe say 'cbmplished, but I don't see how she could hev ben no better than she was-nor more dalc'lated to wear well -in the p'int o' religion. Not hevin' e� jn lie panitm's aint what'd hurt her, nor make us think no less of her. It wouldn' hev hurt her when she was living an' Lord 1 she's post it now-she's past it, Ianthy is." He talked a good deal about his plans and of the things he meant to buy. He was quite eager in his questioning her and showed such laviahness as went to her heart. � "I want to leave ye well fixed," he said. "Leave me?" she echoed. He made a hurried effort to soften the words. "I'd oughtn't to said it," he said. " It was kinder keerless.- Thet thar-it's a long way off-mebbe-an' I'd oughtn't to,|iey,'said it. It's a way old folks hev -rtbut it's" a bad way. ' Things git to seem sorter near to 'em-an' ordinary." The whole day had been to Louisiana Blow'approaoh to a climax. Sometimes wBeti; her "fa'ther talked she oould soaroe-ly bear to look at his face as the firelight shone on it. So, when she had bidden him goodnight at last and walked to the door leaving him standing upon the hearth watching her as she moved away, she turned round suddenly and faced him again, with) b^Jfl�d'.np�ii the'latcSh. x " Father," she cried, " I want to tell you-I want to tell you-" "What?"^he said. "What, Louisianny?" She put her hand to her side and leaned against the door-a slender, piteous figure. "Don't look at me kindly," she said. ' I don't deserve it. I deserve nothing, have been ashamed--" He stopped her, putting up his shaking hand and turning pale. "Don't say nothin' as ye'll be sorry fer when ye feel better, Louisianny," ho said. "Don't git carried away by yer feelin's into- sayin' nothin' ea is hard on yerself. Don't ye do it, Louisianny. Thar aint no need for�,it, honey. Yer kinder wrought up, now, on' ye cayn't do yerself jestice." But she would not bo restrained. " I must tell you," she said. " It haw been on my heart too long. I ought never to have, gone away. Everybody was different from us-and had new ways. I think they laughed at me, and it made me bad. I began to ponder over things until at last I hated myself and everything, and was ashamed that I had been content When I told you I wanted to play a joke 'on the people who came here, it-was not true. I wanted them to go away without knowing that this was my home. 1^ was only a queer place, to be Ja-ughjadJ&t,..:b^ of 'it; and bitter and angry. When they went into the parlor they laughed at it and at �he piotures, and everything in it, and I stood by with my cheeks burning. When I saw a sfifange woman in the kitchen it flashed into my mind that I had no need to toll them that all these things that they laughed at had been round me all my life. They were not sneering at them-it was wor3e than that -they were only interested and amused and curious, and were not afraid to let me see. The-gentleman had been led by his sister to think I came from some city. He thought I was-was pretty and eduoated-his equal, and I knew how amazed he would be and how he would say he oould not believe that I had lived here, and wonder at me and talk me over. And I oould not bear it. I only wanted him to go1 iway without knowing, and never, never see me again !" Bemembering the pain and fever and humiliation of tie past, and of that dread- �wharf ah> tookV 'em, for. --though it* natt motra 'am rr/vu? Av th�y wasn't- love and! tenderness as he had expressed in this one: movement. " Loniflianny," he said, brokenly, when ho had found his voioe, "it's you as should be a-forgivin' me," "I!" she exclaimed. He held her in his trembling arm bo close that she felt his heart quivering. " To think," he almost whispered, " as I should not hev ben doin' ye jestice.!. To think as I didn't know ye well enough! to do ye jestice! To think yer own fattier, thet's knowed ye all yer life, oould hev,give in to its bein',likely as ye wasn't -what he'd allera thought, an' what yer, mother 'd thought, an' what ye was, honey." , " Idon't-" she'began, falteringly. "It's me as oughter be a-standin' agin the door," he said. *' It's me! I knowed every word of the first part of what ye've told me, Louisianny. I've been sosot on ye thet I've got into a kinder notion' way with ye, an I guessed it out. I seen it in yer face when ye stood thar tryin' to laugh on the porch while them people was a-waitin*. Twa'n't no nat'ra! gal's laugh ye laughed, and when ye thought I wasn't a-noticin' I was a-notioin' an a-tbinkin' all the time. But I sem more than was thar, honey, an' I didn't do ye jestioe-on' I've ben punished fer it. It come agin me like a Biungshot I ses to myself,' She's ashamed o' me ! It's me. she's ashamed of-an' she wants to pass* me off fer a stranger I" The girl drew off from him a little and looked up into his face wonderingly. " You thought that I" she said. " And never told me-and humored me, and- "I'd oughter knowed ye better," he said; "but I've suffered fer it, Louisianny. I ses to myself, ' All the years thet we've ben sot on each other an nussed each other through our little eick spejls, an' keered tet /each other, hes gone fer nothin'. She / /ante to pass me off fer a stranger.' Not that I blamed ye, honey. Lord! I knowed the difference betwixt us I I'd knowed it long afore you did. But somehow it warn't eggsak-what I looked fer an' it was kinder How Chinese Come to America. customs ot the chinese - why. thet dome t6 th38 cototby-their reception aj&'JAtt they gome. ful day above all, she burst into sobbing. '' You did not think I was "that bad, did you?" she said. "But I was I 1 was !" Louisianny," he said, huskily, '' come yere. Thar aint no need fer ye to b!ame yerself thataway. Yer kinder wrought up." "Don't be kind to mo!" she said. ' Don't 1 I want to tell you all-every word! I was so bad and proud and angry that I meant to cany it out to the end, and tried to-only I was not quite bad enough for one thing, father-I was not bad enough to bo ashamed of you, or to boar to sit by and see thorn cast a slight upon you. They didn't mean it for a slight-it was only their clever way of looking at things-but / loved you. You were all I had left, and I knew you were better than they were a thousand times! Did they think. I would give your warm, good heart-your kind, faithful heart-for all they had- learned, for all thoy could ever learn ? It killed me to see aud hear them ! And I told them the truth-that you were my father and that I loved you and vik proud of you-that I might bo ashamed df myself and nil the rest, but not of yon -^-never.of you-fori wasn't worthy to kiss your feet 1" For one moment her father watched her, his lips parted and trembling. It seemed as if he meant to try to speak, but could not. Then his oyes fell with an humble, bewildered, questioning glance upon his feet, encased in their large, substantial brogans-rthe feet she hod said sho was not worthy to kisa\ Whathe saw in i them to touch him so it wpuld be hard to tell-for he broke down utterly, put out his hand, groping to feol for his chair, fell into it with bead bowi on his arm, and" burst into sobbing . She left her self-imposed exile i instant, rati to him, and knelt dow, lean agamsthim. �'� ' '"Oh!" she oried, "have I tfroken yo^ibeart ?,. Ha-ve Lbroken your/heart ? Will Go$ever.forgive me? I don't ask you to forgive ine, father, for I idon't deserve it." ~ VrM^H#�^Wt apeak, frit"-he-j hard on me right at the start. An' then the folks went away an' ye didn't go with 'em, an' thar was somethin' workin' on ye as I knowed ye wasn't ready to tell me about. An' I sot an' steddied it over an' watched'ye, an' I prayed some, an' I laid wake nights a-steddyin'. An' I made up my mind thet es Id ben the cause o; trouble to ye I'd oughter try an' sorter balance the thing. I allers 'lowed parents hed a duty to their child'en.- An' I ses, ' Thar's some things thet kin be altered an' some thet cayn't Let's alter them es kin !'" She remembered the .words well, and now she saw clearly the' dreadful pain they had expressed ;�they cut her t > her soul. " Oh! father," she cried. " How oould you?"................-........-...............-.............:------------...................-. " I'd oughter knowed ye bettei'j Louisianny," he repeated. " But I didn't. I ees, 'What money on' steddyin' an' watchin'll do fer her to make up. shell be done. I'll try to make up fer the wrong I've did her onwillin'ly-onwillin'-ly.' An' I jwent to the Springs an' I watched an' steddied thar, an' I came home an' I watched an' steddied thar- an' I hed the house fixed, an' I laid out, to let ye go to Europe-though what I'd heern o' tie habits o' the people, an' the bri-gands an' sich, went powerful agin me maltin' up my mind easy. An' I never lost sight nary minnit o' what I'd laid out fei'Wto do-but I wasn't doin' ye jestice an' didn't suffer no more than I'd oughter. An' when ye stood up thar agen the door, honey, with yer tears a-streamin' an' yer eyes a-shinin', an' told me what ye'd felt an' what ye'd said about -wa'l," (delicately) "about thet thar as ye thought ye wasnt worthy 'to do, it set my blood a-tremblin' in my veins-^-an' my heart a-shakin' in my side, an' me a-goin' all over-an' I was struck all of a heap, an' knowed thet the Lord hed ben hotter to me than I thought, an'-an' even when I was fondest on ye, an' proudest on ye, I hadn't done ye no Gort o' jestice in world-an' never oould !" There was no danger of their misunderstanding each other again. When they were calmer they talked their trouble over simply and confidingly, holding nothing back. "When ye told me, Louieianny," said her father, " that ye wanted nothin' but me, it kinder weui &gin me more than all the rest, fer I thinks, ses I to myself, 'It aint true, an' she must be a-gettin' sorter hardened to it, or she'd never said it' It seemed like it was kinder onnecessary. Lord ! the onjestice I was doing ye !" They bade each other good-night again, at last. . "Fer ye'ro o-lookin' pole," he said. " Au' I've been kinder out o' sorts myself these last two or three weeks. My dyspepsy's bin back on me agin an' thet thar pain in my side's bin a-workin' on me. We must take keer o' ourselves, bein' es thar's on'y us two, on' we're so sot on each other." He went to the door with her and said his last words to her there. "I'm glad it come to-night," he said, in a grateful tone. " Lord ! how glad I am it come to-night! S'posin' somethin' hed happened to ary one of us an' the other hed ben left not a-knowin' how it was. I'm glad it didn't last no longer, Louisianny." And so they parted for the night GiffordlF. Parker, for many years engaged in mercantile business in China, in' a leoture says :-The opening up of China thrjew open, a population to commerce thpt amounted to almost three-qilartersfof the people on the globe. The relations of -the United States to that country were therefore of considerable importance. The manner of living in Ohintt was so different from that of European races that there had not as yet been a large exportation of broadstuffs to that country, but as a taste for American articles of food was' being gradually acquired there, in time there would be a great demand."" ------------------- -1 The, lecturer then described some of the manners and customs of the Chinese. He also pointed out many excellent traits possessed by them as a race. The coolies -the lowest and most abused class of the Chinese-were induced, he said, to come to the United States because of the opportunities afforded hero for making money. They were too poor to pay their own passage, and they made contracts with men. of means to work for them for the period of five years in consideration of having their passage paid and 810 a month until the expiration of that time. The friends of the ooolies about to leave home were induoed to give bonds for the faithful performance of the oontraot. As soon as the poor coolies are on shipboard the contractor filled their minds with apprehensions of cruel treatment in the new oountry whither they were going. They were told to unite for their protection. As soon as they landed at San Francisoo they were set upon by a hooting crowd and pelted all the way to the Chinese quarters. Such was their reception in this country. Here at the Chinese quarters they remained until they were sub-let at from $30 to $40 a month by one of the "six companies." Their condition when thus employed was nothing less than slavery, as they were not allowed to write letters even without? having them pass through the hands of the company under which they sewed. - The Chinese" themselves class the United States with Peru and other oountries where the cooly trade is allowed to be carried on. A French Trick. THE CONDEMNED CELL. Thrilling Description of the Condemned Criminal and Ills Last flight in the CelL by CHAKLES DIOKffiTB. WIT A5D WISDOM. A man presented himself at an inn in Valenciennes, France, and made a request to be admitted, together with a very bulky portmanteau, which ho carried on his shoulder. The woman of the house, having allotted to him a second floor room, offered to -help him in carrying up stairs- the burden,., which ... seemed _too. heavy for his unaided efforts; but he refused, on the ground that it oontained articles of a very delicate and fragile nature, and that he could trust it to no one but himself. He, however, requested leave to deposit it in a corner of the tavern until, after resting and refreshing himself, he should be disposed to carry it up stairs. When the hour arrived for closing the house, the portmanteau remained still below, and the woman, on entering the room to put up the shutters, looked at it, and to her horror peroeived that something moved within it. So great was her terror that she sank down speechless and breathless in a chair, and in that position was found by a gendarme, who came to protest against the late hour at whioh the place was kept open. As soon as' the cause had been explained to this minion of the law, he forgot the primary object of his visit in his curiosity to explore the mysterious piece of luggage, and, drawing his sword, soon solved all doubts by outting open the leather. He had no sooner done so than a stout man jumped out, pistol in hand, and fell upon the gendarme ; but the latter was on his guard, and used his weapon with good effect. The baggage and its owner were both accordingly arrested forthwith, and are now mourning in prison the failure of their ingenious but abortive scheme. Onors.-The value Of the orops of the United States in 1879 is estimated by the Agricultural Department at $1,904,840,-000, probably the largest Bum ever added to the wealth of a country by the products of its soil. Tho value of the crops in 1878 was put at 51,480,570,000 by tho same authority. _ ANbst.-t-A Middlebuxg, Pa., mouse tunneled-an ear of corn, built, her nest in it tod was living ori^ne grain outsi aaBj;|nobes in length,and. An Insane Father's Deed. Frank Lewis, of the mercantile Arm of H. F. Lewis & Co., and proprietor of a boarding-house near the general railroad offloe in Marshall, Texas, poisoned his son, twelve years old, and then went into the cemetery and took a deadly dose himself. The boy died in bed soon after I this discovery was made. The unfortunate father, when found, about six o'olock the next morning, was lying prostrate by the grave of his recently deceased wife. Prompt aid was given, and powerful antidotes were administered, but to no purpose, for his death followed. He was highly respected, but recently has exhibited symptoms of insanity, and these acts are regarded by many as conclusive evidence that his mind had become hopelessly unhinged. Lewis left n note stating that he was going on a journey across the dark river, aud wanted his darling boy to accompany him to the better land. The poison-chloral-was administered to the unsuspecting child in an orange. A Generous Landlord.-The Earl of Sandwich, who is the owner of the Port-holme estate, near Huntingdon, has, in consequence of the serious floods which have occurred duriflg the last two years, instructed Mb agents to intimate to the tenants of the estate that at the next rent audit he will return the whole of the last year's rent. A Pbojtt.-Prof. Agassiz is said, to receive"'(in' income qf 2,600 a day from the Qalrflflt and Hicks copper mines of Jiike Supeiapr, of which he is president iaijijl 'a shareh]gl,nn_ Dcript. '� Did the rebs help you any in your 'I etreat ?" asked Johnsonbury somewhaif I quizzingly. "Well," replied the vete " '"' while a suspicion of a srnile rip_ a.round his mouth, "I must admit tityejS'j gave us a few points. "-^Boston Transcript. !  . Mas. Goodinqton has bought a pair of glasses. '' They're one of new-fangled notions," she says, clave on one side and complex on Other; :peristaltic is what the man cal them-and a- very pretty name it is tool"-Boston Transcript. ' ,;i r The once jet black hair of an Owego ; , girllias now turned in color to a grialjfo gray;'"Fourteen scientists have Bpent*���; week-'in investigation, but Jhey< ftoBt'ex'l know half as muoh about the real ,oadseY" as her little brother, who duplicated th�/ girl's box of pomade with someperftime^,^ vjetroleunv axle-grease.-Tioga Gountfr; jRa-r}f�-- t " ' . -Sk took.asudden seat, he did,Jtf)i o'er his face' a eiokening expression � disgust o'ersprenfr-a oloiftreach infeta thickening. She too, sweet girl, %erl down with him, and 4ho8gh ithui1 v"1 vanity, she never frowned, but, "js ' and smiled with radiant urbanity.'; on they walked-he, mad as fire; every feature showing it; but she on, serene and"calmly mod, too-b ono knowing it-Kansas City A Haokejssaok man maybe brawl battle, fierce in the fight and forettt ' the fray, and never know. #n*tfe but when he goes to a hop and." that his suspenders are lengthen with oord, all' the latent timoi)6u� his nature asserts, itself and he-treads the "light oowardly consoiousne lwillwaitii ;