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The Chatham Republican. (Chatham, Columbia County, N.Y.) 1886-1918, April 10, 1895, Image 8

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Some wounds, first deep, are deeper every year. Although our eyes no longer fill and weep Dr watch no more at night when others sleep, And \find not, like new, grief, the ready tear, o transient solace touches such wounds here ; No other hearts can know the anguish deep Of hearts that higher hearts in memory keep. Time passes but to show their loss more clear. The way is weary and the wall is thick That keeps us from the waiting souls be ­ yond. Ah, sages, poets, have you not, too, lied Unto our fancies that are faint and sick? For answer clasp one truth, no dream phase fond — One man came up from hell, the crucified. — Maurice Francis Egan. HIS EASTER LILT. • • X BY EDITH SESSIONS TUPPEK. fCopyright, 1895, by Aiherican Press Associa ­ tion.] “ My, what a makeup! ” ejaculated a popular actor to his companion as they sauntered up Fifth avenue one bitterly cold winter afternoon at the hour of the fashionable parade. “ T-here : s realism, there ’ s art, me boy! ” ‘ He was right. Haggard, wrinkled, toothless, her sparse white locks tossing on the chilling wind, her shreds and patches fluttering about her bent frame, stood old Betty Herrick, Hester street, rear tenement, huddling close against her as.thmatic hand organ, from which she was grinding out a doleful air. Yes, here indeed were realism and art. Something more. Disease and famine looked out the bleared, sunken eyes, star-' ing with the pathos of helpless old age at the throng of richly dressed people passing and repassing before her. Occasionally a few pennies chinked into old Betty ’ s tin cup, but her store of earnings grew slowly. Down the avenue, wrapped in velvet and sables, shedding the perfume of Eng ­ lish violets as she passed, and attended by a smart French maid, came Miss Cynthia Coupon for her daily promenade,' that con ­ stitutional so requisite to the health and complexion of the modern athletic femi- THE CHINK OF SILVEP.. nine swell. Cynthia was a daughter of the gods, tall, svelte, fair and stately as a lily, a typical well groomed New York girl, with .shining, lustrous, golden bronze hair and proud, frank, fearless eyes. She was a distinguished figure in the procession of elegant and beautiful women out on pa ­ rade that day. People nudged each other as she passed. “ The beautiful Miss Cou- Fpon, ” “ Old Ben Coupon ’ s heiress, ” “ En ­ gagement just announced, ” “ Count de Farandole, chateau in France, ancient family,-exchange of title for millions ” — : these were the snatches of comment and gossip as the young beauty, carrying her ­ self as became a countess elect, walked through the crowd. • Trained to repress her natural emotions, what looked behind that fair, haughty, serene face? What thought darted through her mind as for an instant Miss Coupon paused before' a bewildering display of ■flowers in a florist ’ s window? The Easter flowers were already in market, and pots of great, odorous, stately annunciation lilies were standing there wafting through *he constantly opening doors the perfume <of their breath. You are like a lily, a tall, fair, sweet, -white lily! ” rang in her ears. Who said that to her? Not the count whose bride she was to .be soon after Easter. Ah, no, it was not the count! And then a face, an honest, handsome, .American face, with pleading lips and resolute eyes, the face of the man she loved, whom she had sacrificed to her piti ­ ful ambition, came before her. For an in ­ stant Miss Coupon felt like dying. There was a dreadful little sharp pain -near her heart, and a dreadful little sharp lump rose in her throat; but, like the self pos ­ sessed young woman she had been drilled to be, she recovered herself, and thinking of her chateau in France she walked on — on to where fate, in the person of old Bet ­ ty Herrick, Hester street, rear tenement, stood waiting, waiting for her. “ Heavens, how distressing! ” murmured Cynthia as she stopped pnd regarded this battered old wreck. Betty mumbled and leered and held out a shaking purple claw beseechingly. There was a word to the French maid, a snap of a gold purse, the chink of silver. Betty looked down in stupefaction and be ­ held two silver dollars. “ Glory be'to ” — she shouted. Cynthia interrupted her. “ Where do you live, my poor woman? ” “ Twenty-three Hester street, lady. ” “ That ’ s not at all a nice locality, is it, Zephine? ” asked Miss Coupon. “ Eet es of all streets ze most villain, ” announced Zephine, with horrified eye ­ brows and alarmed shoulders. “ Nevertheless I will go there, ” said Miss Coupon calmly. “ I shall go to see you, poor old soul! ” Zephine spluttered like a jar of ferment ­ ing fruit. “ Taisez-vous, Zephine,” recommended Miss Coupon as she turned away. “ Mais, mon Dieu ” — “ Voulez-vous vous taire? ” demanded her young lady sharply, and Zephine con ­ cluded that she would hold her tongue, for no one ever presumed to stand in Miss Coupon ’ s way when once her deci ­ sion was taken. And now, from some strange whim, some caprice, Cynthia had settled in her mind that she would go and see how the other half of the world lived. She had heard a great deal of slumming and concluded to try it a bit on her own account and see if it bored her. Hester street to this day recalls the moment when a cab rumbled through its dingy borders and stopped before the -wretched tenement wherein old Betty lived, and when there stepped from the vehicle such a vision as had never before dawned upon that neighborhood. Miss -Coupon came, bringing a store of provi ­ sions and delicacies which the maid and cabman looked regretfully upon as on a waste of so much raw material. Old Betty was sick. She was lying in her wretched bed when Miss Coupon, shuddering with, disgust, found her filthy room. v But the old organ grinder had not forgotten the handsome young lady who had given her so much money. She blessed her unceasingly, she ate ravenous ­ ly of the food brought her, and she insist ­ ed upon kissing Miss Coupon ’ s, hand, a proceeding to which the young lady sub ­ mitted with concealed aversion. At length Betty asked the name of her Visitor, and when it was given demanded fiercely, “ Old Ben Coupon ’ s gal? ” Miss Coupon replied rather haughtily- that her father ’ s name was Benjamin, upon which old Betty was seized with a fit of silent, horrible laughter. It so alarmed Miss Coupon, who fancied this attack might be a precursor of sudden death, that she sent Zephine out for aid. When the maid had left the room, the old woman raised fierself on one elbow, and fixing her fading eyes on Miss Coupon said: “ Ye think ye air old Ben Coupon ’ s own gal, don ’ t ye? Waal, ask him ” — A fit of coughing broke her sentence, and she sank back exhausted. That night Cynthia sought her father in the library and briefly related her experi ­ ence of the day. She kept her proud ques ­ tioning eyes upon her father as she talked and saw, to her horror, a strange ashen hue steal over his rubicund face. When she had finished, with a broken and hum ­ ble manner, he said: “I have always dread ­ ed this day, Cynthia. I knew it would come. No, you are not my child. ” The room swam about the girl. “ Whose, then, am I? ” she managed to ask. “ And how should that dreadful old woman know about me? ” “ Cynthia, ” said Mr. Coupon in a low voice, “ you are the child of that old crea ­ ture ’ s daughter! ” He expected tears, reproaches, a swoon perhaps, but Cynthia sat as if turned to stone. At last she said in a voice strange ­ ly unlike her own, “ Tell me — all. ” “ My wife and I were childless. She saw you, a beautiful little creature, run ­ ning about in rags, oh one of her charita ­ ble visits to the east side. Your mother readily relinquished you for a certain sum. She died soon after. This old wom ­ an is a noted character. The police have kept her from troubling me ” — He could' say no more. “ She, that horrible old woman, is my mother ’ s mother? ” “ Yes. ” Cynthia rose mechanically to leave the room. Her father sprang to her and caught her in his arms. “ My dear,” he cried, “ forgive me. I ought to have told you be ­ fore, but you were like my own daughter. I thought I would be able to protect you from this knowledge. ” “ Forgive you? ” she murmured broken ­ ly. “ I bless you for saving me from a frightful life, but don ’ t you see it must alter everything? ” “ What should it alter? ” “ My marriage. Have you told the count of this secret? ” “ No. ” “ Well, you must. You will tell him, too, that I release him from our engage ­ ment. Oh, you will see, papa. He will be very willing to be released. Even your millions cannot gloss over this affair. ” Cynthia was right. The Count de Far- andole relinquished the Coupon millions, with a sigh. He was desolated to lose this fair American heiress, but the stain of il ­ legal birth and the police record of. his fiancee ’ s maternal grandmother were too much for the proud Frenchman, and so he fluttered away in sehrch of. other worlds to conquer. The news of the broken engagement made a great hubbub in society, and pass ­ ing its charmed portals reached the ears of a young physician who was building up a name and a place for himself in his pro ­ fession. A gleam of joy shot over his strong, tender face, and then it saddened as he said to himself: “ Oh, well, what matter? She can never be anything to me. She is too ambitious. ” Nevertheless, when Easter morning dawned, among the myriad bouquets sent .to Miss Coupon there came one long stalk of lilies, white, odorous, stately, breath ­ ing a message of longing, of remembrance,- of fidelity, which moved Cynthia strangely and brought back those heavenly days on board an ocean steamship when she had learned what it meant to love; brought back those nights when they had stood alone with the sea about them and the stars overhead; brought back the voice which had whispered, “ You are like a tall, fair, sweet white lily. ” Cynthia looked dully at the magnificent costume lying on the dainty, canopied brass bed, the gown ready for the Easter service at a fashionable church and then for the Fifth avenue parade; at the masses of orchids, violets and roses with which her chamber was crowded; at the jewels sparkling on her dressing table, Easter gifts from her father. Ah, what did they all matter now? She had thrown away a priceless treasure, the love of an honest man ’ s heart, and she had her re ­ ward. Miss Coupon ’ s maid was about to begin the mysterious rites of the toilet when a servant knocked at the door, and offering abject apologies stated that there was a very dirty little boy below who insisted upon seeing the young lady. “ He says, Miss Cynthia, that he ’ s sent by the old woman in Hester street, and that she ’ s dy ­ ing and begs to see you. ” Miss Coupon hesitated a moment, look ­ ing at the silvery cloth and velvet lying in lustrous, seductive folds, waiting to grace her beauty. Only a moment. “ It is my A FIGURE SAT BY THE DEAD WOMAN, grandmother, my mother ’ s mother, who is dying. Let me remember that, ” she said under her breath. Then aloud, “ Say to the boy to return to the old woman at once and tell her I am coming. ” * * * • * * * * When John Thornton, M.D., was hastily summoned to attend a wretched old beg ­ gar in a district to which out of the good ­ ness of his heart he was in the habit of paying free professional visits, he antici ­ pated no such shock as he was destined to receive. He mounted the rickety stairs, and pushing the tumbling door open en ­ tered and saw a strange sight. The cold sunlight streaming through the crazy, window played across the frozen features of poor old Betty Herrick, beggar, crook, / \ outcast, passed forever from beyond the judgment of men. Her withered hands had been decently composed across her breast, and over her white hair a lace scarf had been hastily thrown. By the dead woman a figure sat, a figure whose stately contours sent the blood rushiitg to Thorn ­ ton ’ s heart. It moved, rose, turned its head toward him and looked at him with the proud, sad eyes of Cynthia Coupon. “ Cynthia, ” he cried, “ why are you here? ” “ She sent for me, ” pointing to the sheeted form lying there in awful silence. “ She is dead! ” “ Yes, I am too late, 1 see. Poor old wretch! It is a good thing ” — “ Don ’ t, ” she said, lifting her hand, “ don ’ t speak like that. She is such an old^woman ” — “ I know, ” he interrupted impatiently, “ but she was a terror — a crook, a fence. ’ I cannot see what your father could have been thinking of to allow you to come alone to this horrible place. Let me take you away at once. ” “ Not yet, ” she replied. “ I must see that she is decently prepared for burial, and that everything that can be is done for her. You see, she was my mother ’ s moth ­ er. ” “ Cynthia! ” “ Oh, yes, ” she'answered wearily, “ I am not Mr. Coupon ’ s daughter. I am an im ­ postor, a cheat, a swindle, Dr. Thornton! Look around you ! This is the mud, the slime from which I have sprung! ” He had reached her side and now snatched her to his heart. “ Cynthia, ” he murmured, “ look at me — my love, my lily! Yes, fair, sweet and pure — like the lily which springs from mud and slime, you are mine at last. There are no false barriers between us now. I will take you and wear you on my heart, my lily — my Easter lily! ” LEGENDS OF THE PASSION. Prototypes In Nature of tiie Instruments of the Crucifixion. The story runs that Adam took with him from Eden as a staff a branch of the tree of knowledge — in fact, the very branch that bore the fatal apple. During his wanderings he reached Jerusalem. He thrust the staff in the ground, and it grew and became a tree from which the cross was fashioned. Thus the same wood bore that which brought sin into the world and him who overcame it and redeemed the world from its sway. Some say the wood of the cross was from the aspen tree and since then its leaves forever tremble with remorse and fear. The mistletoe, according to another legend, was once a sturdy tree, but having furnished the material for the cross it was accursed and became a weak parasite. To many a shrub and plant has been at ­ tributed the dread distinction of furnish ­ ing the crown of thorns. In Italy it is the barberry, in Germany the holly, and else ­ where it is given to the bramble, the buck ­ thorn, the hawthorn, the brier rose, the acanthus, the wild hyssop and the acacia. The scourge that was laid- upon our Sav ­ iour ’ s back, tradition says, was made from the weeping willow, for which rea ­ son-that tree has ever since maintained a drooping and remorseful attitude. And the reed which was placed in his hand, according to the same authority, was a stalk of the common cattail with its mace ­ like head. The passion flower, when found by the Spaniards in Mexico, was hailed with ad ­ oration, since it displayed within itself all the instruments of the passion — the crown, the scourge, the .spear and the nails. There are other flowers which, fable says, were growing at the foot of the cross and were stained with drops of the Lord ’ s blood. The Germans tell us that the crossbill strove hard to draw out the nails that pierced the sufferer ’ s hands. It could not, but it twisted its beak in the effort and dyed its plumage in blood. The English robin is the hero of a similar tradition and dyed its breast from the bloody thorns. A Danish legend has it that during the Saviour ’ s agony three birds came flying thither and alighted upon the cross. “ Styrk ham! Styrk ham!” cried one. ‘ 1 Strengthen him ! Strengthen him ! ” And ever since men have called the stork a bird of strength and blessing. The second cried: “ Sval ham! Sval ham! ” or “ Re ­ fresh him! Refresh him! ” And the swal ­ low, too, is a bird of blessing. But the third cried: “ Puen ham! Puen ham!” or “ Punish him! Torture him! ” And thus the lapwing is a bird accursed forever ­ more. The same legend prevails among the Swedes, only they add a fourth birdr — the turtledove — which cried: “ Kyrie! Kyrie! ” or “ Lord! Lord! ” and to this very day has no voice, but that one word of lamentation. . BURGLARS ARRESTED AT HUDSON. Clever Police Work. A clever piece , of police ' work was executed in this city Friday afternoon, when a raid was made by Chief Lane and Officers Salpaugh and Martin upon a house in Rope alley, a short distance above Fifth street, and three burglars captured together with some of the articles they had stolen from places that had been broken into by the gang. For some time past depredations by burglars have been quite frequent in the upper part of the city, and especially in the yard of the Boston & Albany railroad, where cars containing merchandise for shipment have been broken into and robbed. The police have been quietly at work trying to capture the thieves red- handed, but the movements of the officers evidently aroused some suspicion, and the burglars kept away from their favorite place of pillaging for a time. Friday the police made sure they were on the right track of the thieves and it was decided to make a descent upon them and take them unawares. The house raided on Rope alley is a small two story frame structure and this was the rendezvous of the gang, who had two women living with them to keep house. They captured Robert Abbott and George Kells, residents of this city, and a Boston crook, who is known by the name of Joe Cameron. The last job of the gang was to break into a car containing the household effects of a family moving from Germantown to Canaan. They took from the car three rolls of carpet, three hams, thirty jars of preserves and other articles. One roll of carpet and seven jars of the fruit were found in the house and confiscated by the police. One of the gang after being taken into custody confessed to Chief Lane that they had broken into all the cars robbed in the upper railroad yard within the past few months. He also admitted that the three in custody did the bungling job of trying to blow open the safe in the office at Morris Van De Bogart ’ s coal yard on North Seventh street. It is also believed that they had a job on hand Thursday night to burglarize the railroad depot up town, as a discovery was made that led the police to be suspicious and a watch was kept on the building. . The burglars have stolen goods from a number of cars, pillaged from farmers ’ wagons left under sheds, and stolen chickens by the wholesale in and about the city. Most of the plunder they dis ­ posed of, but in what manner they got rid of it the police have not yet found out. — [Hudson Paper. A VIOL ENT M ANIAC. The Russian found in the ^Presbyterian church yard, a few days ago, and locked up in jail, proves to be a raving maniac. His name is Vincent Shanshesky, sent to the county jail from the town of Livings- ' ton, in this county, as a vagrant. While in court this morning he became very vio ­ lent, and stripped qff his clothing. He is an athletic man, standing fully six feet high, and it required the strength of three officers, while in the court room, to place the irons upon him. He was returned to jail for safe keeping, and will be sent to an asylum for treatment.—[Hudson Reg ­ ister! _ ______ BRAKEMAN ’ S NEC K BROKEN. James Sennet ’ s Fatal Fall from a B. & A. Engine. Another fatal accident occurred on the Boston and Albany railroad Monday. James Sennet, an extra brakeman with Conductor Murray ’ s crew, went upon the locomotive to place a flag when the train started suddenly and Sennet was thown to the ground, falling upon his head. The man ’ s neck was broken and, he died in a few moments. The accident happened at the junction near Pittsfield,. Mass. The unfortunate man leaves a wife and three children. : - . .' ROUGH DRY L. J. POTTER Maybe your wife would think more of you these days if yoii would give your consent for her to call lip the Chatham Steam Laundry, and have them get the clothes to wash Rough Dry. No woman likes to have her hands in hot soap suds these cold days, and you wouldn ’ t either. It ’ s cheaper to have the clothes Rough Dry than to pay a Doctor ’ s bill after wash tlay at home this weather. Rock Bottom Prices and first-class work guaranteed. UNDERTAKER CHATHAM, N. Y. Office: — Springstein Building, Opposite Stanwix Hall. Residence — No. 37 Kinderliook Street. I keep on hand a full assortment of . O-A-SIKIIETS, OOIFIFIOSrS, ROBES, &c. Calls answered promptly day or night. I . I I EMBALMING A SPECIALTY. I Calls may he left at East Chatham wit Palmer & Johnson. E. P ALLEN, Prop ’ r Hi- CT- ZEPOTTIEIR. Easter «« At A. Marks ’ ' All the Latest Spring Styles now ready for Inspection Serge Suits in all the Popular Shades. / Cheviot Suits in Black, Blue and Brown. Clay Worsted Suits in all the Latest Colors. Our line of Dress Trousers is especially fine. In Spring Overcoats our line is complete. Our display of Boys ’ Cloth ­ ing has never been equaled, and Prices are as Low as the Lowest, and the Groods are Reliable. Hats, Caps, Fancy Neckwear and Gents ’ Furnishings in great variety. Our motto is to use all alike. In Custom Work we solicit an inspection. BANNER CLOTHING HOUSE. 11 and 13 MAIN STREET, - - - CHATHAM, N. Y. Agent for the Hudson River Dye Works. Also Money sent to all parts of the World. When you buy Diamonds VISIT W. H. Williams & Son, 12 N. Pearl St*, Albany. They have a very large assortment of Diamonds, both set and unset. Some new ideas in Pins, Brooches, Pendants, &c. You know the junior member of their firm was judge of Diamonds at the World ’ s Fan at Chicago. Next , door to the Postoffice. WADE ’ S Are you looking for bargains in fj WATCHES CLOCKS, JEWELRY, SILVERWARE, CHINA, CUT GLASS, &c. I have secured the services of a first-class Watch Repairer and Engraver and am prepared to do work promptly and in a Satisfactory manner. All work Guaranteed. Special attention ' given to fitting Spectacles and Eye Glasses. Every Saturday I will place in my window Special ” Bargains. Don ’ t fail to see them. . Main Street, Chatham, N. Y . • < ^

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