THE DANBURY REPORTER
VOLUME 11.
THE REPORTER.
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' Ttm, John A. jAHhoa,
O V.3cnKU.MAN.
WHITE & BOBGHMAW,
wholesale dealers in
HATS, CAPS, FURS, STRAW GOODS AND
-VA IjADlKti' 11 ATS.
No. 318 W. Baltimore street, Baltimore, Md
E. M. WILSON, orN.C.,
_____ WtTll
R. W. POWERS & CO.,
WHOLES AUK DRUGGISTS,
• «M iealers in Paints, Oils, Dyes, Varnishes,
French Window Ulas«, 4c.,
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importers and jobbers of
DRY GOODS AND NOTIONS.
KM.
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,1-ly RICHMOND, VA.
0. F. DAY, ALBERT JONES
DAY & JONES,
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SADDLERY, HARNESS, COLLARS,
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TUCKER) S.lfllll & CO.,
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250 Baltimore street, Baltimore, lid.
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—My. __ _
BENJAMIN RUSSELL,
t Manufacturer and Wholesale Dealer in
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(New Building,)
t BALTIMORE, MD.
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~ " H. J. kR. E. BUST,
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job* j. Hi in is, of v». livi h small, of w. va.
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* Manufacturers aod Wholesale Dealers in
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DANBURY, N. THURSDAY, DECEMBER 6, 1877.
A BLIGHTING SHADOW.
BY CAPTAIN CUARLEB HOWARD.
The leafy crowo of the nuubrown j
month lay on the dying year.
Mark Haggarjh stood in the wood, i
and aoiid the lulling leaveß aloije. His
right hand held a Utter near his face,
aud his hazel eye .flushed the light of j
passion upon the delicate ohirography
that beautified the soft pink paper.
"Little letter," he hif&ed through the
long hairs of his auburn moustache, that
covered an imperial, "I hate you, and j
from my heart I curse the hands that
sent you on your blighting mission. .
Cicely," and here bis eyes fell to the
name appended to the brief eommunica- .
tion, "you dare to sign your name in the
terms you have signed it in the days gone 1
by—when I was foolish—when I loved
you, the joumoyman miller's daughter !
Perhaps I was happy then—Oscar Bel- :
lew tells me I was; but I do not believe
it. I was foolish—all my letters to you 1
Cicely Webster, prove it. First loves j
are silly affuirs at the best; the present
is uiy second love, and is as strong as 1
the nfiL beneath whose boughs I stand." j
He cast bis eyes upward as be finish
ed, and a moment later he bad thrust
tbe letter into his pocket.
"I'll return to the village, now," he
said, in an audible tone. "I wonder if
she will attend the festivities to-night
Her impudence certainly surpasses her
wonted modesty. Cicely was not a for.
ward girl when I knew htr; bat she
has battled with the world siuce that
day, and the inherent purity of her sex
bus been torn from her heart."
Then Mark Haggarth secured tbe let
ter more firmly iu his bosom, fearful that
it might be lost amoug tbe sear and yel
low leuves, and buttoned his coat tightly
over it. The narrow path into which he
stepped led to the busy occidental village
of Laeeland, and the fulling of the leuves
enabled him to catch glimpses of the
whitened steei les. About the handsome
man all was still. In silence tho birds
seemed to mouin the lust days of the
year, for they bopped from branch to
brunch without a chirp, and their little
feet shook many a dying leaf to the
golden-tiuted ground.
Deeply engrosse 1 in thought, Mark
Huggarth walked along with bowed
head, oblivious to everything occurring
about him. He did not bear the foot
thut broke the brittle leaves before him,
nor see tbe petite possessor of the deli
cute member.
A beautiful girl, with lustrous Hue
eyes and a sea of golden hair, was ap
proaching from the village. Her eyes
were riveted upon Mark Haggarth, and
ibis is what ber lips said as she hurried
down the path :
"I'll walk the log and meet him be
yond tho brook. 1 knew I would find
bim somewhere in tbe woods, and I won
der what he will say when 1 ask him,
for, perhaps, the last time."
There was z tremor, not unburdened
witb anxiety, in the girl's low tone, and
the look which she fastened upon Murk
Haggarth told how she loved biro.
Between tbe twain ran a brook whose
waters verified the saying that "still
waters run deep." Forest Brook, an the
stream was called, boasted of a depth
almost iuoredible, and the superstitious
denizens of Laeeland bad learned to look
upon it with fear, for innumerable bob
goblin stories were oonnected with its
plaoid waters, and their imagina
tions had peopled its banks with ghosts
and banshees from source to mouth.
Cioely Webster—for tlfe fair girl who
was hastening to encounter Mark Hag
garth was she of whom he bad lately
spoken—gained the fallen osk that
bridged Forest Brook, before lie was
made aware Of her presence. Then he
was called to tbe koewledge of company
by the descent of a piece of bark whieh
Cice'y's dress had dragged into tbe wa
ter, and be looked up witb a sudden
start.
The girl was crossing the ereek, and
Mark Haggarth, having halted on the
opposite bank, was wathing her with
oold lipa, and without a word There
was a world of hatred in his dark eyes
"Mark," she said, when but midway
over the brook, "I am so glad that I have
found you. I feared that—"
She paused abruptly, for he had start
ed forward, and waa on tbe log.
"And I am as glad that 1 have found
you," ha hissed with emphasis, aud with
the lan word he suddenly gripped her
hand. j ( ■) |
"Mark, Mark, what 4a you mean?"
she cried, noting the devilish expression
that peeped from bis eyes. "Surely,
Mark, you still love me." ,
"Lovo you, Cicely Webster !", and he
followed her uauie with a "Loye
you," he repeated, "yoo, wbosa dowry js
a sack of flour ? Girl, you have uevir
thought that I loved you."
"You have told me so. Oh, Mark—"
'■You have been dreaming, girl," be
interrupted her. "Indeed, you have
been dreaming, I say."
"No, no, Mark
"Yes, Oieely Webster. Will you
give me up ?"
"Give you up, Mark ?" and her voice
was a wail, "1 cannot!"
"You must!" The ooldness of steel
was in his tone.
"Considor, Mark," she pleaded. "I
love only you. I can never love an
other."
"And I can never marry you !" be
said, unpityingly.
A sigh escaped her heart, and while
she looked down upon the sleeping wa
ter, Mark Haggarth glanced about tbem.
Not a living person was insight, and the
sinking day-god was throwing long shad
ows from the west The beautiful
shadow of Cicely's face fell upon his
bosom, but 1 ween Mask did not see it.
"Well!" lie sail, impatiently, calling
her eyes back to him—handsomer than
ever in the passion that toitured his
soul, and in the beginning of tbe gloam
ing.
"And why cannot Mark Haggarth
keep hie word, given long ago under
the lindens by the old mill ?" she asked,
in an altered tone.
"Because he has placed a ring on a
hand fairer than Cicely Webster's "
"Ob, Mark Haggarth !" she cried,
starting back ; but he held her by the
wiist. "Years have changed you "
"Yes, they have shown me how foo
ish I have been. You must give me up
I never loved you, as Heaven is my wit
ness."
"Not until I have sought her out and
told her of your heart," she Baid calmly,
but with great determination.
"You will, eh ?"
"I will, unless—"
He suddenly released her band, and
the next moment she was tottering over
the water ! Once she tried to clutch
the arm which he outstretched in devil
ish mockery, and the gleam of his hazel
eyes told her that he did not intend to
save her.
"Mark, Mark Huggarth !" Bhe cried,
in tones of mingled reproach and de
spair; and with his name on her lips,
she fell from the log, and the broken
water re-uuited over her.
"I didn't push her," he said, self
justifiably. "She fell in of her own ac
cord, and Heaven will not hold Maik
Huggarth acceuntable for her end. 1
wonder why she does not come to the
top ?" and he looked down upon the
waters, which had resumed tbeir wanted
tranquility. "Aha! The witches of
Forest Brook have taken her to their
abode, and by and by Cicely Webster
will bewitch shadow as she has bewitched
subßiance."
Despite his learning, his knowledge of
the world, Murk Haggarth leaned toward
a belief- in the supernatural. After a
while he crossed to tbe right bank of
tbe brock, and pursued his way towards
Laeeland.
Once or twice, perhaps oftener, be
thought of Cicely Webster, tbe girl who,
because of the purest love, had refused
to give bim up. He had taught her to
love him, and, true to teaohings, she had
cherished her heart's adoration when he
was false. And when he thought of her
he would murmur:
"I didn t push her; she fell in of ber
own accord !"
Ah! Mark Haggarth, while she tot
tered on the log you could have saved
her, but yon' would not! And tbe
wageß of sin is death !
Straight to the village post-office
walked Mark Haggarth, and the official
gave him a letter stamped with crest and
monogram. His eyes glistened when
they fell upon the signr of wealth and
social position, and with eagerness be
turned aside and broke the delicate seal.
The letter was from the womun for
whose inheritance aud Cleopatrjan beau
ty he had deserted Cicely Webster.—
Hastily he scanned the feminine tree
itipa, and all at ouoe fie Matted back,
with ghastly eyes riveted upon the bot
tom of the last page. For there, as
plainly as he saw bis own trembling
band, he beheld the shadow these
words i '■
"Afuntcrer I you *mhl have saved
her, lwt yen ic/nld not t"
He closed the letter and fled from tbe
ottea—from the aoeuaiog shadow of a
«iM I -i ) •
* a « »> * •
m What had broopht Mark, Hajrffftrth
*> Laaeland no ooe knew, H« had long
.been a city man, aad the vtttage was an
inane place, nothiog romantic, and but
ser y littfe prfetty about ft.
Perhaps a lettef from Cicely Web
ster, begging an interview, drew him
1 from the metropolis to tho commission
' of a deed at which his better nature re
; volted.
' Fairly he had promised to make Cico
; ly a bride, and the girl had trusted him
i He loved her then—his heart told him
1 so ; but when he went to the city, and
1 amid the whirlings of fashion encoun
tered Ellen Van Loos, Cicely Webster
faded like a smoke wreath, and he for
got his promises, his stolen kisses—ev
erything that he should have remem
! bered.
By and by the light of truth broke
upon Cicely's heart, and I know that
from her boudoir, cootaiuing many gifts
from him, she sent more thun ooe en
treating letter to the estranging city.—
She would tear him from tbe bewilder
ing beauty; a tight of her bine eyes
would return bim to the old love and
soon she would walk beside him to the
altar, crowned with tho laureate sunsets
•f the fading year.
But, alas 1 little Cieely trusted too
much to her powers. Ellen Van Loos
had woven a strong Bet, and, as tbe
reader has seen, triumphed over the
country rival. But let me return to my
story.
From the post office Mark Haggarth
fled to,tbe station and the even
ing express, which set him down it the
bustling city, three hundred miles from
the scene of bis orime. Four months
passed away, and no ooe came to accuse
Mark Haggarth.
"They think that Bhe fell into the
stream and was drowned,", he bad often
murmured, and he would supplement his
words with, "I didn't push her; she fell
in of ber own accord."
One night a fashionable assembly filled
tbe grand Cathedral of the Ascension to
witness tbe joining of two hearts for
life Tha nuptials of Mark Haggarth
and Ellen Van Loos had been the ab
sorbing topic of conversation in the fash
ionable quarter for many weeks, aud
their wedding promised to be the event
of the winter. While tbe elite of the
metropolis were pouring into tbe mag
nificent sanctuary, Mark Haggarth stood
before his dressing stand, administering
tbe finishing touches to his wedding
toilet. His face was pale, and, to some
degree, haggard. Pople bad said that
ibis came of too close attention to busi
ness, yet Mark took much exercise—
long drives witb Ellen Van Loos, and fre
quent sailiogs to the Highlands. Thut
night something tortured him. He was
restlessly nervous, and started at tbe
slightest sound.
Reader, let me tell (he truth. Since
The hour wben the accusing sbad-iw ap
peared on the letter in Laeeland, Maik
Haggarth bad known no peace, The
imagiuings of a guilty couseience had >
never left bim, aud they, not his appli
cation to business, bad puled his cheeks
On tbe wa Is of his couuting-rooui aud
tbe pages of the ponderous ledger he
had seen the blighting shadow of words
already italicised by my pea.
Suddenly from the mirror, that night,
he started bick. Pictured upon the
glittering surface of the glass, be fsw
two scenes. A forest; a beautiful girl
faoing a stern uian on s log, over a still,
deep stream; tbe fair one tol(eied and
fell into the water, while Satan laughed
ill the nan's eye. He recognized tbe
faoes —li> and Cieely W ebator's.
The interior *f a village ohurch em
braced the locale of the second scene-
Two young people before an aged
minister, who joined their hands in wed
look. He saw tho faces of the couple.
Tbe maid was Cicely Webster; the man
be knew not. Li'te a mist tbe vision
vanished, and in its stead the bligbtiag
shadow of a sentence came to the minor :
"You might have saved me, but ypu
Would not!"
With a startling look and a wild cry,
Mark IJaggarth staggered from the spec,
taste and uauk pa the floor, like a man
killed with horfQr. : There lie laj « D °-
tionless while a thousaod people waited
for the bridegr >oui.
True to the life was the mirrored via
| ioo. While he upoo it, Cicely
Webste: stood before a happy altar, |
promising lo cherish the ooble youth
who had heard her groaoiogb beneath
the hollow backs of Forest Brook, and
reMued her. And she ?aa happy, for
| she loved bim as she hud once hved
. Mark Haggarth.
By and by the impatient Ellen Van
| Loos sent a message to Murk's room
Opening the door, the messengers four.d
him still on the floor— DEAD !
i
Russian Generals.
The Russian Generals in Bulgaria are
mainly very old men, who studied the
I art of war forty and even ttl'ty years ago.
They are described by a correspondent
j of the Daily Netct as men who never
: look in a book and who rarely read a
newspapor, and appear to be utterly ob-
J livious to the march of progress, and of
j science, especially in the military art.
Their whole lives may be said to have
been passed in one occupation'; their
whole minds, whatever they had, ooo
centrated on one object; and that the
most trivial to which the human miiid
can descend—card playing. They bav«
done nothiig else, thought of nothiog
; else, for years. Their minds have rusted
until they are as dull, as heavy, aud as
' incapable of receiving new impressions
|us the veriest clod hopper. Called from
their card tables by the trumpet of war,
they rise, rub their eyes, look around
them completely bewildered and as thor
' oughly out of the current of modern war
as if the; had been asleep for forty years.
Not even Rip Van Winkle, with his
rusty gun dropping to pieces after hiß
long sleep, was more bewildered and lost
than the majority ot these poor old Gen
erals suddenly thrown into the campaign
! at the head of their brigades, divisions
and corps. Tt may be asked why the
Euiperor docs not send these old dotards
back to their card tables and replaoe
them by younger men, and men of tal
ent, of which after all the Russian army
is not destitute. The Boft heart of the
E nperor has much to do in retaining
these old incapables in their positions,
lie cannot bear the idea of depriving an
old publio servant of his position and
thns disgracing him, and so unconsciout*
ly prefers to saorifice the lives of thou
sands of brave fellows to this misplaced
feeling of kindness.
The Noble Revenge.
The coffin was a plain one—a poor,
miserable pine ooffiu. No flower* on its
top, no lining of roee-wbite satin for the
p»le brow ; no smooth ribbons about tbe
coarse The brown hair was laid
decently back, but there was bo crimped
cap, with its neat tie beneath the chin.
The sufferer from cruel poverty smiled
in her sleep.
"I want to see my mother," sobbed a
poor child, as the city undertaker screwed
down the top.
'•You oa't—get out of the way, boy !
Why don't somebody take the brat?"
"Only let me see her one minute,"
eried the hapless, homeless orphan,
clutching the aide of the charity box ;
j and, as he gazed into that rough iace,
anguish tears streamed rapidly down the
cheek on which no childish bloom had
ever lingered. Oh, it was pitiful to hear
him cry, "Only once—let me see my
mother only once !"
Quickly and brutally the hard hearted
monster struck the boy away, so that be
reeled with the blow. For a momeat
the boy stood panting with grief and
rige; his blue eyes distended, his lips,
sprang apart, a fire glittering through
his tears, as he raised his puny arm, and
with a most unchildish accent screamed,
' "When I'm a man I'll kill you for that !'•
There was a coffin and a heap ol' earth
between the mother and the poor, for
saken ohild, and a monument stronger
than granite built in the boy's heart to
the memory of a heartless deed.
The crtlirt house Was crowded to suffo
cation
~ "l)o«s *uy one appear as this (van's
ouUiiml ?" asked tbe judge.
There was a stlenee when he finished,
until with his' lightly pressed t6-
Hother, a look ol atrauge intelligence,
NUMBER 26
blanded with haughty reserve
kaHaome feat uns, a young man stepped
forward with a firm tread and kindling
I eye to plead for tfce erringaud the frMbd
leas. He wa« a stranger, but front-%ia
first sentence there was silence.
Tbe splendor of bis genius entranced
aod convinced. Tne man whoccmMtiot
fiud a friend was utquited
"May God bless you sif, I connect
'*l want no thanks," replied thestnn
ger, witb ley coldness. '•»
*1 —I believe you are unknown totofe."
"Man! 1 will refresh your memory.
Twenty years ago you atruok 4 broken
| hearted boy away from his mother's
poor coffin. I was that poor, miserable
boy."
The man turned livid. "Have you
rescued me, then, to take my life?"
"No, I have a sweeter revenge; I
have saved the life of a man whose btu-
I tal deed has rankled in my breast for
i twenty years. Go ! and remember the
; tears of a friendless child."
The man bowed his head in shame,
and went out from the prcsenoe of a
magnanimity as grand to bint as incom
prehensible, aod the noble young lawyer
felt God'a etuiifi in his soul.
"They AH Do It."
There are few books that can boast of
as much immorality within a spaoe of
four hundred pages as is implied in this
little phrase, which has been placarded
on the bill-boards and called into the
ears of the publio for the past two-or
three weeks. It is the one sentence
which takes the courage completely out
of youth, searing it conscience as with a
red-hot iron, and permitting despair to
carry it off bodily into tbe lowest depths
of crime.
"Oh, they all do it; why should aot
you 7" that is the suggestion. "That
man lies and cheats, and will commit
any crime that tbe law docs not make
dangerous So it is with all of them.
There is no use in your trying to be dif
ferent from other people." That is the
way the temptation comes to tbe young
man, thrown on tbe world with little
knowledge of its ways, and perhaps
shielded only by the indulgent traiaiog
of an over-food mother. "People are
grossly immoral. Even temperance ad
vocates get drunk in private ; church
deacons swindle savings-banks; all yea
see of morality is but a surface show.
.Beneath there is concealed wickedness.
You will find you must follow the aial
titude." And tbe youth, with the pleas
ure of the world held up before his glow
ing imagination and full of hcAly
health, plunges forth with it into what
| he believes to be "the world."
If tbe devil bad concentrated all bis
cunning during the centuries which have
elapsed since his ejectment from Para
dise, he could not have produced a more
powerful argument with which to ooa
quer the .°oul of man than this, "Thay
all do it." But, young man, listen. Tfcat
seutcnce is a lie—as base and foul a lie
as ever was conceived in tbe mind of
man or devil They don't "all do it."
There are thousands upon thousaada of
good, pure men and women iu this world,
bad as it may seem, who are leading Up
right live* They believe in a Defoy,
and in tbe commands of virtue, and are
going along with the happiest result* to
themselves and their neighbor*. There
are men who think that they were pat
in this world, not to gratify their 1 ova
base appetites, but to be true an) aoMe
and bigh-minded. There are mea who
would diadain to tell a lie. There are
men who would disdain to take aa ad
vantage in trade, or to do any other aal-
Sab or mean action. Thoro are mea who
try to be just always, and kindly, both
in word and feeling, to *ll. Thera arc
men who lead bumble, unpreteatioaa
lives, and who, without making it inowa
to tbe world, are doing a vast anouatof
good among tbeir fellow-men.
And, atrange to say, these men la»d
very happy lives, and, as a rale, wy
successful live*. While tbe unprinci
pled man may epjoy temporary suoMgf,
sjoner or later he will eaffer for uia jftygjc
of honesty. There are a thousand wasa
in which virtue avenges herself VQtm
him. In one way or another ha gata
bis You have youth, you are
blessed with health of mind and bodv.
There are plenty of criminal* around
you, !t is true Hut th»y are to be pit
ied, not imitated. Never believe that
what soaia do, all do; bat be in your
own person a- standing example of tin
falsity of the cry : •'They all do i^"