Newspapers / The Milton Advertiser (Milton, … / Aug. 6, 1886, edition 1 / Page 6
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-..'. -' Peter Elwanger, a market , man at So-wles market, Louisville, is the Tpos aesxor of a silver dollar coined in 1804 which he refused to sell for $800. The coin came into his possession through an aged relative in Indiana, who has owned it for over fifty years. There are but aeven picce3 of this date in existence, and they are valued at $1,000 each by roin collectors. Henry Stochho5 offers to buy the coin for $S00. i . Some enterprising people in Belgium lave applied the telephone to a novel use. Little .bells are supplied and fitted '.to the bed of all who desire to rise early in the morning but cannot do o of their -own accord. A certain time is fixed and communicated to the central ! station, and at the precise moment agreed upon the current is turned on and the bells com? Jnence to ring, and continue doing so ontil the slumberer awakes, leaves his couch and informs the head ofiice that lie has had enough. The Los Angeles (Cat Herald men tions a plant which is said to be a sure cure for snake bites. The plant is called the "spider lily," and displays a beauti lnl flower that makes it a fine ornament for yards and gardens. The leaves can be dried and preserved for years. When ;iieeded for a sting or a bite they can be moistened and applied in the form of a -poultice to the : wound. If usecT when .green there is no necessity for moisten- mgtne piant, as an ttiat is necessary is to bruise the leaves and apply them to the wound., j 5 The estate of the Vanderbilt family is estimated at about $200,000,000; that oi the Astors at nearly, as much, and that of A, -T. Stewart from $70,000,000 to $75,000,000. Jay Gould's wealth is set down in round numbers at $100,000,000 jand Rockefeller's at $35, 000, 000. The property belonging to the estates of the rich Calif ornians Hopkins, Mills, Flood, Fair, Sharon, O'Brien, Mackay and Hunt inffton--wiu reacn, it is tnougnt, some $250,000,000 more, making in all $855, 00,000. Even this enormous sum is. not supposed to equal the combined wealth of all the membera of the Rothchilds. The richest man in Great Britain is the Duke of"Westminster, whose income is rated at a guinea (twenty-one shillings) a minute, or about $2,700,000 a year, derived almost entirely from real estate in the midst of London. The late Wil iam.H. Yanderbilt is said to have had an income at least three times as large. There . arej.-, however, more Englishmen than Americans with incomes of $1,000, 00 or thereabout viEnland' is prodigi ously wealthy (as welf as extremely poor), and her wenlth is the accumulation oi hundreds of years, and is growing now at the rate of $GOO,000,000 annually, the net profits of all her industrial and commercial enterprises. At the present Tate of. increase, she will have accumu lated in twenty-five years fifteen thou sands of millions additional .capital. No wonder interest is low there, and that her capitalists are constantly seeking in- Testmehts throughout civilization. The accumulation of' money, however, has been even greater in this country where the rate of interest has diminished in ten years far more than in any ! part of Eu- rope. Elections on the other side are far less costly now than in the ante-reform days. One memorable election in the "West Hiding of Yorkshire coat Lord Fitzwil- liam $250,000, and the defeated riva house of 1 Wortley, Lord Wharncliffe, 8100,000. Foxs famous election foi "Westminster cost $125,000. The elec tions in Galway and Mayo;, in the west of Ireland, which lasted over weeks, cost the contestants generally at least $50,- O00, and in nearly every instance theii estates, loauea witn, encumbrances tnus -contracted, passed out of their families. . The voters, many of- them brought from j mountain homes at long distances from the seat of the election, had virtually to fight their way in hordes to the polls. The candidates, on their part, had usu ally to fight two or three duels as a nec cessary accompaniment. On one occasion the celebrated Colonel Martin, on being asked who was likely to win a certain election, wrote back:' ,4The survivor.?' The last of the Martin family, his daugh- . ter, died just after landing in 1850, at the Union Place (present Morton House) Hotel. The . liquor saloons, styled on the other side public houses, instead of being closed as here on election days, were all kept open at the candidates' ex pense. A Sguire Fleming, who success fully opposed Lord. Palmerston for Hampshire, in reply to a long address of that Minister, got up and said: "I do not know anything about the subjects on -which the noble lord has spoken. . I only lenow tatl have ordered all the public ... houses in Hampshire to i be opened, and they will be kept open at my expense until the close of the polls." The ballot was the principal ; instrument in doing away with those old lively electioneer ing times. The expenses are now limited try law to $3,000 at the I outside and in many cases to less, and heed not exceed " $350 or $300. The candidate is obliged to make returns of the exact amount ex pended. The expenditure of many of the Irish M. P.s at the last election did ' not exceed $250. Mr. Labouchere's re- luxn at Northampton was only $150. From the Chicago IIper. 0L1Y -OB,- THE DOCTOR'S TWO LOVES. BY THE AUTHOR OF Thi Second Mrs. Forgotten, Tillot&on, Etc, Etc Never f CHAPTER XLVT CoynscxD.I "Let ns return to what I told yon at first," I said; "if yon find Olivia, yon have no more authority over her than I have. Yon will be obliged to return to England alone, and I shall place her in seme safe custody. I shall ascertain precisely how the law stands, both hero and in England Nowy I advise you, for Foster's sake, make as much haste home as you can, for lie will be left without nurse, or doctor while we two She sat .gnawing her under-lip for, some minutes, ana looking as vicious as Alftdam was wont to do in her worst tempers. . "You will let me make some inquiries to satisfy myself ? she said. Certainly, I replied i "von will only discover, as I have, that the school was broken np a month ago, and Ellen Martinean has disappeared." 1 kept no very strict watch over her during the day, for I felt sure she would find no trace of Olivia in.Noireau. At night I saw her again. ; She was worn out and despondent, and declared her self quite ready, to return to Falaise by the omnibus at five o'clock in the morn ing. I saw her off, and gave the driver a fee to bring me word tor what town she took her ticket at" the railway sta tion. "When he returned in the even ing he told me he had himself bought her one for Honfleur, and started her fairly "on her way home. As for myself, I had spent the day in making, inquiries at the offices of the octrois those local custom-houses which stand at every entrace into a town or village in France, for the gathering of trifling, vexatious taxes upon articles of food and' merchandise. At one of these I had learned that, three or four weeks ago, a young Englishwoman with a little girl had passed by on foot, each carrying a small bundle, which had not been examined. It was the octroi on the road to Granville, which was be tween thirty and forty miles away. From Granville was the nearest route to the Channel Islands. Was it not possible that Olivia had resolved to seek refuge there again? Perhaps to seek me? My heart, bowed down by the. sad picture of her and the little child leaving the town on foot, beat nigh again at the thought oi Ulivia in Guernsey. I set off for Granville by the omnibus next morning, and made further inqui ries at every village we passed through, whether anything had been seen of a young Englishwoman and a little girl. At first the answer was yes ; then it became a matter of doubt; at last everywhere they replied by a discour aging no. At one point of onr journey we passed a dilapidated sign-post, with a rude black figure of the Virgin hanging below it. I could just decipher' upon the post, in half-obliterated let ters, "Ville-en-bois." It recurred to me that this wa3 the place where fever was raging like the pest. It is a poor place," said the driver, disparagingly ; "there is nothing there but the fever, and' a good angel of a cure, who is the only doctor into the bargain. It is two leagues and a kilo meter, and it is on the road to no where." I could not stop in my quest to turn aside and visit this village smitten with fever, though I felt a strong: inclina tion to do so. At Granville I learned that a young lady and a child had made the voyage to Jersey a short time be fore, and I went on with stronger hope. But in Jersey I could obtain no further information about her, nor in Guernsey, whither I felt sure Olivia would cer tainly have proceeded. I took one day more to cross over to Sark and consult Tardif, but he knew no more than I did. He absolutely refused ; to believe that Olivia was dead., "In August," ho said, "I shall hear from her. Take courage and comfort. She promised it, and she will keep her promise. If she had known herself to be dying she would certainly have sent me word." wIt is a long time to wait," I said, with an utter sinking of spirit. . "It is a long time to wait!" he echoed, lifting np his hands, and let- ting them fall again with a gesture of weariness ; "but we must wait and hope." To. wait in impatience, and to hope at times and despair at times, I returned to London. ClfAPTER XLVII. THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. One of my first proceedings after my return was to ascertain how the English law stood with regard to Olivia s posi tion. Fortunately for me, one of Doc tor Senior's oldest friends was a lawyer of great repute, and he discussed the question with me after a dinner at his house at Fulham. "There seems to be no proof of any kind against the husband," . he said, after I had told him all. "Why!" I exclaimed, "here you have a girl, brought up in luxury and wealth, willing to brave any poverty rather than continue to live with him." "A girl's whim," he said; "mania, perhaps.' Is there insanitv in her family?" : . " "She is as sane as I am," I answered. "Is there no law . to -protect a wife against the companionship of such a woman as this second Mrs. Foster?" ' "The husband introduces her as his cousin,", he rejoined, "and places her in some little authority on the plea that his wife is too vouncr to be lei t alone safely in , Continental-: hotels. There is no reasonable objection to be taken to that?" , O "Then Foster could compel her to re turn to him?" I said. . . "As far ai I see into the case, he cer tainly could,", was the answer, which droye me frantic. I A; "But there is this second marriage," I objected. . . . "There lies the. kernel of the case," he said, daintily peeling his walnuts., "You tell me there are papers, which yon believe to be forgeries, purporting to be the medical certificate with cor roborative proofs of her death. Now, if the wife be guilty of framing these, the husband will bring them against her as the grounds on which he felt free to contract his second marriage, ne has done a very foolish and a very wicked thing there." - "You think she did it?" I asked. He smiled significantly, but without savincr anvthincr. T cannot P I cxiea. tt "Ah I you are blind," .he returned, with the same .maddening smile; "but let me return. ' On the other hand, if the husband has forced these papers. it would go far with me as strong pre sumptive evidence against him, upon which we might go in for a divorce, not a separation merely. If the younz lady had remained with him till she had collected proof of his unfaithful ness to her, tins, with his subsequent marriage to the same person during her lifetime, would probably have set her absolutely free." "Divorced from him ? I said. "Divorced." he repeated. "But what can be done now ?" I asked. "All you can do," he answered, "ia to establish your influence over . this fellow, and go cautionsly to work with him. As long as the lady is m i ranee, if she be alive, and he is too ill to go after her, she is safe. Yon may con vince him by degrees that it is to his interest to come to some terms with her. A formal deed of separation might be agreed upon and drawn up, but even that will not perfectly secure her in the future." - Twas compelled to remain satisfied with this opinion. Yet how could I be satisfied while Olivia, if she was still livincr. was wanderinor about homeless, and, as 1 feared, destitute, in a foreign country? I made my . first call upon Foster the next evening. Mrs. Foster had been to Brook street every day since 'her re turn, to inquire for me, and to leave an urgent message that I should go to Bellringer street as soon as I was again in town. The lodging-house looked al most as wretched as the forsaken dwelling down atNoireau, where Olivia had perhaps been living, and the sti fling,, musty air inside it almost made me gasp for breath. 'So you are come back 1" was Fos- ters greeting, as I entered the dingy room. "Yes," I replied. "I need not ask what success you've had," he said, sneering. "Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Your trip has not agreed with you, that is plain 1- Ti 1-1 i . "it i eiiuugu. n uiu not agree wiia Carrie, either, for rIta jityia Vn rTr . r w Arin cr r!i , r would never go on such a wild-goose chase again. You know I was quite opposed to her going?" "No," I said, incredulously. The diamond ring had disappeared from his finger, and it was easy to , guess how the funds had been raised for the journey. "Altogether opposed," he repeated. "I believe Olivia is dead. I am quite sure she has never been under this roof with me. as Miss Ellen Martineau has been. I should have known it as surely as ever a tiger scented its prey. Do you suppose I have no sense keen enough to tell mo she was in the very house where I was ?" "Nonsense !" I answered. His eyes glistened cuuelly, and made me almost ready to spring upon him. I could have seized - him by the throat and shaken him to death, in my sudden passion of loathing against him; but I sat quiet, and ejaculated "Nonsense I" Such power has the spirit of the nineteenth century among civilized classes. "Olivia is dead !" he said, in a sol emn tone. "I am convinced of that from another reason; .through all the misery of our marriage, I never knew her guilty of an untruth, not the small- ! est. She was as true as tho gospel. Do you think you or Carrie could make me believe that she would trifle with such an awful subject as her own death ? No. I would take my oath that Olivia would jnever have had that letter sent, or written to me those few lines of fare well, but to let me know that she was dead." His voice faltered a little, as though even ho were moved by tho thought of. her early death. Mrs. Fester glanced at him jealously, and ho looked back at her with a provoking curve about his lips. For the moment there was more hatred than love in the regards exchanged between . them. I saw it was useless to pursue the subject. "Well," I said, "I came to arrange a time for Doctor Lowrv to visit you with me, for the purpose of a thorough examination. . It is possible that Doc tor Senior may be induced to join us, though he has retired from practice. I am anxious for his opinion as well ai Iiowry's." "You really wish to cure me?" he an swered, raising his eyebrows. "To be sure," I replied. "I can have no other object in undertaking your case. . UQ you imagine it is a pleasure to me? It is possible that your death would be( a greater benefit to tho world than your life, but that is no qaestiop for me to decide. Neither is it for me to consider whether you are my friend or my enemy. There is simply a life to be saved if possible ; whose, is not my business. Do you understand me? "I think so," ho said. "I am nothing except material for you to exercise your craft upon." ' "Precisely," I answered; "that and nothing more. As some writer savs. it is a mere matter of instinct with me. I attend you just as a Newfoundland dog saves a drowning man.' " I went trom him to Hanover street, where I found Captain Carey, who met me with the embarrassment and shame facedness of a young girL I had not yet seen them since my return from Normandy. There was much to tell them, though they already knew that my expedition had failed, and that it was still doubtful whether Ellen Mar tinean and Olivia were the same person. Captain Carey walked along the street with me toward home. He had taken my arm in his most confidential manner, but he did not open his lips iill we reached Exc-ofc street "Martin, Vha said, Vns turned ii over in my own mind, "and I tgres with Tardif. Olivia is no more dead than you or me. , "We shall find out all about it in August, if not before. Cheer up, my boy ! I tell you what, Julia and I will wait till we are sure about Qlivia." "No, no," I interrupted: "you and Julia have nothing to do with it. When is your wedding? "If you have no objection," he an swered "have you the least shadow of an objection?" 7 "Not a shadow of a shadow," I said. Well, then," he resumed, bashfully, "what do you think of August? ; It is a pleasant month, - and would give us time for that trip to Switzerland, you know. - Not , any sooner, because of your poor mother; and later, if you like that better.1? i "Not a day later." I said; "my father has. been ' married again - these four months." Yet I, felt a littlo sore for my moth er's memory. . How quickly it was fad ing from every heart but mine! If I could but go to her now, and pour out all my troubled thoughts ' into her listening, indulcrent carl Not even Olivia herself, who could never be to me more than she was at this moment, could nil her place. CHAPTER XLVm. 1 rrLriLiaxo xnr m-tdge. We that is, Doctor Senior, Lowry, and I made our examination of Fos ter, and held our consultation, three days from that time. ' There was no doubt whatever that he was suffering from the same disease as that which had been the death of my mother a disease almost invariably fatal, sooner or later. A few cases of cure, under most favorable circum stances, had been reported during the last half century; but the chances were dead against Foster's recovery. In all probability a long and painful illness, terminatinsr in inevitable death, lay be fore him. in tho opinion of my two senior physicians, all that I could do would ue to alleviate the worst pangs of it ; ; His caso haunted me day and sight In that deep undercurrent of conscious ness which lurks beneath our surface sensations and impressions, there was always present the image of Foster, with his pale, cynical face, and pitiless eyes. W ith this was the perpetual re membrance that a subtle malady, be yond the reach of our skill, was slowly eating away his life. Tho, man I ab horred: but tho sufferer, mysteriously linked with the memories which clung about my mother, aroused my most urgent, instinctive compassion. - tiniy once before had I watched! tho conflict between disease and its remedy with so intense an interest It was a day or two after onr consul jtation that I came accidentally upou the littlo note-book which I had kept in Guernsey a private note-book, acces sible only to myself. It was right; Jack, as usual, was gone out, and I was alone. I turned over the leaves merely for listless want of occupation. AIL at once I came unon an entry, made in connection with my mother's 'illness, which recalled to me tho discovery I believed I had made of a remedy for her disease, had it only been applied in its earlier stages. - It had slipped out of my mind, but now my - memory leaped upon it with irresistible force. I must tell tho whole truth, however terrible and humiliating it may be. Whether I had been trno or false 'to myself up to that moment I cannot say. I had taken upon myself tho care and, if possible, the cure of this man, who was my enemy, if I had an "enemy in the world. His life and mine could not run parallel without great grief and hurt to me, and to one dearer than my self. Now that a better chanco was thrust upon me in his favcr, I shrank! from seizing it with unutterable re-j luctance. I turned heart-sick at tho! thought of it. 1 tried my utmost to! shako off the grip of my memorr. Was it possiblo that, in tho core of my heart a wisucu iuis man 10 uio Yes, I wished him to die. Conscience flashed tho answer across tho inner depths of my soul, as a glare of light-j ning over tho siiarp crags and cruel! waves of our island in a midnhrhti storm. I saw with terriblo distinct-1 ness that there had been lurking within! a sure sense of satisfaction in thecer-j tainty that he must die. I had sus-i pected nothing of it till that moment! When I told him it was tho instinct, of a physician to savo his patient I spoke the truth. But I found something: within me deeper than instinct, that was waiting and watching for the fatal i issue of his malady, with a tranquil se-' cunty so prozound that it had never; stirred the surface of mv consciousness. . or lifted up its ghostly face to the light' of conscience. ) j I took up my notebook and went! away to mv room, lest Jack should: come in suddenly and read my secret! on my face. I thrust the book into aj drawer in my desk, and locked it away, j out of my sight What need had I to trouble myself with it or its contents? I found a book, one of Charles Dickens most amusing stories aQd set myself resolutely to read it, laughing aloud at its drolleries, and rending faster anil faster, while all the timo thoughts can e crowding into my mind of my mothers pale, worn face, and the pains she suf fered, and the remedy found out too late. These images crew so strong at last that my eyes ran over the sen tences mechanically, but my brain re fused to take in the meaning of them. I threw the book from me, and, leaning my head on my hands, I let all the waves of that memory flow over me.' j How strong they were ! how persist ent! I could hear the tones of her Ian guid voice, and see tho light lingering to the last in her dim eves whenever they met mine. A shudder crept through me as I recollected how she traveled that dolorous road, slowly, day by day, down to the grave. Other feet were beginning to tread the same painful journey, but there as yet time to stay them, and the power to do it was intrusted to me. What was I to do with my power? . iTo bk oo!cri3(rro.l ! The accmatLUtioa "oi lxokn io. tho public library at Boston hxs lx;cn in creased bo much that tho citj has ap propriated $lvO,000 for a new building. Spring! Summer ST.TIS OIF1 MILLINER! FANCY GOODS of every variety. DRESS GOODS of every variety. NOVZLTDS of every variety. The largest and best selected stock of Hats & Bonnets ever before exhibited In Mflton. DRESSMAKING DEPARTMENT. This Department will reccivo ray own 1 PERSONAL attention, assisted by lfm Cousix, .formerly of Richmond, Ya., aind other skilled Mantua-makers. I axa prepared to furnish DRESSES at tnorr NOTICE. To convince you of tho natnre of ray Stock aadthftlow prices of the soods, call and examine for yourself. . - I return thanks for past patronage. s. -- Respectfully, - - " - MRS. "W. T. FARLEY, j apl C0-3m HILTON, K. C. D. M. HIJSTES, GENERAL ... AND A C.C.I D E NT Insurance Agent.! (Of2cela4AdTertl,, BolUins) main Street, EIIXTOH, N.C Insures aQ kinds of Insure t property Fire, Ljglitning &Tornaflo8s. LArgos Ecclish &ad Amsric&a Comp&ki represented. TXatea as OW as any Se llable Agency. Applications by Ma3 procnpU j aIUckSwS la G. F. BOWERS, MILTON, N. C.t wocer AJTD CONFECTION ER,. A25D DEALER IX HeatMeat, Batter, Lara, Ejus and all kinds of Country Produce, TOBACCO, CIGAES, CANNED GOODS. flTLarge Stock of Shoes. I par blbwt market pries for CLIdctns. Ek, Battr, Fruit, '&c OryjQ 31X3 .A. CALL. nSTETW" GOODS ARE BEJHQ RECEIVED liOY FRI0IT& FLEMING. TTben yoa oorot to HUloa GIVE US A CALL! Before purcluuln g clss wbers. PARICER'G HAIR DALSAr.l lint rTiHr tarre tar t (nUM train. tio mi Ircrw t r4Mrir g) -Mot c Thm tMt Ccrugli Cars ytxa cjs dm, A4 U jc prrrrelhr kMr to OmuW Dowla. VmarK Ltw. Xlmrj Vrtmmrr Ottvm , rrroaa. 7km It lm limm. SoU hj 3 PnctMt tm 'UU2 D EgCORraG G-oo.dS tamiiy,! IF YOU WANT Pore, Prcali & HeliaMa us & ilffllE OO TO WALKER'S DRUG STORE, rfejricUct , Trrri-ptlaB CaifsT Cct fall stock of ChevTing and Smoldng T0DAGG0, Ciiars, Cigarettes' ad SmlT cf U bt breads, lal THE KEW YORK WEXKLY WORLD AKO BTL 'TOM ADVOtftSER, 12 Bo&s. ter $2. SIHTH & -WINSTEAD, . . .. f 2X&la Etrttt, 2XH.TOrt. XT C. DRY GOODS, Notions. Clothing. .' Boot3 andShoc Crocortoo of nil Kinds W cttj Wry stock of OCTERAI HEUOIAKDISK. it tm Uunaiwl to b cadsrt&LL Uirscsfte&IL , (Waters WCo's yswSL.'ThrB striata UPRIGHT .AHD SQUARE GEAHD THE BEST AITD MOST DUTIABLE HADli. t f la Xit sod Dark TTec4 Horaco Wafers fx Co's 3Parlor and Chapel most TmUr rrrr tatrodacxsL lYsa Lxtrtlj Lew. A CHEAT OFFER! a a3 rart LI "'J orrsju, tti csLsJk aoi as taiao aUl r-il. taccUJfer k - - Ii Elaol i'ric v xa a noHACE WATZE3 & CO Jomr A. KiLvrZy TmOLTolLS 1 m i A rn I Candies & Fruits 13 OG Main. St. tm .1
The Milton Advertiser (Milton, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Aug. 6, 1886, edition 1
6
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