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| The Bow of Orange Ribbon!
| A ROMANCE OF NEW YORK |
jj By AMELIA E. BARR. +
+ Author of "Frlond Olivia," "I. Thou and tho Othor Ono," Eto. f
+ Copyright, 1886, by Dodd, Mead and Company. X
4.1AA i.,L.LJ. J.J.J.J.AJ.A 1.J. 1.J.L t t . . . ...... . . . . * T
CHAPTER XIV.—(Continued.)
‘ I will give it to him again. With
my own hands I will give it to him
once more. Oh. Richard, my lover,
my husband! Now I will hasten to
see thee.”
She reached London the next night,
and, weary and terrified, drove at
once to the small hostlery where
Hyde lay.
“Katherine!” he cried; and his
voice was as weak and as tearful as
that of a troubled child.
“Here come I, my dear one."
“Oh, how you love me, Katherine!
She took from her boscm the St.
Nicholas ribbon. “I give it to thee
again. At the first time I loved thee;
now, my husband, ten thousand times
more I love thee. As 1 went through
the papers, I found it.”
And between their clasped hands it
lay—the bit of orange ribbon that had
handseled all their happiness.
“It is the premise of everything I
■can give thee, my loved one,” whis
pered Katherine.
“It is the luck of Richard Hyde.
Dearest wife, thou hast given me my
life back again.”
CHAPTER XV.
Turning Westward.
It was a hot August afternoon, and
Hyde sat at an open window at Hyde
Manor. He was pale and wasted from
his long sickness, but there was spec
ulation and purpose in his face, and
he had evidently cast away the mental
apathy of the invalid. As he sat thus,
a servant entered and said a few
words which made him turn with a
glad, expectant manner to the open
door; and, as he did so, a man of near
sixty years of age passed through it
—a handsome, lordly looking man,
who had that striking personal re
semblance to Hyde which affectionate
brothers often have to one another.
“Faith, William, you are welcome
home! How delighted I am to see
you!"
“ 'Tis twelve years since we met,
Dick. And Hyde Manor is a miracle.
I expected to find it mouldy and
mossy. On the contrary it is a place
of perfect beauty.”
“And it is alt my Katherine’s doing.
She is my angel. I am unworthy of
her goodness and beauty.”
“Why, then, Dick, I may as well tell
you that I have also found a treasure
past belief of the same kind. In fact,
Dick, I am married, and have two
sons.”
There was a moment s proiouna si
lence, and an inexplicable shadow
passed rapidly over Hyde’s face; but
it was fleeting as a thought, and, ere
the pause became strained and pain
ful, he turned to his brother and said,
“1 am glad, William. With all my
heart, I am glad.”
“I was married very quietly, and
have been in Italy ever since. I was
told that you had left the army.”
“That is exactly true. When I
heard that Lord Percy’s regiment was
designed for America, and against the
Americans, I put it out of the king’s
power to send me on such a busi
ness.”
“Indeed, I think the Americans have
been ill-used, and I find the town in
a great commotion upon the matter.
The people of New York have burned
effigies of Lord North and Gov. Hutch
inson, and the new troops were no
sooner landed than five hundred of
them deserted in a body.”
Hyde’s white face was crimson with
excitement, and his eyes glowed like
stars as he listened. "That was like
New York; and. faith, if I had been
there, I would have helped them!”
“Why not go there? I owe you
much for the hope, of which my hap
piness has robbed you. I will take
Hyde Manor at its highest price; I
will add to it fifty thousand pounds
indemnity for the loss of the succes
sion. You may buy land enough for
a duchy there, and found in the New
World a new line of the old family.
Dick, my dear brother, out of real
love and honor, I speak these words.”
“Indeed, William. I am very sensible
of your kindness, and I will consider
well your proposition. I think, in
deed, that my Katherine will be in a
transport of delight to return to her
native land.”
Almost with the words she entered,
clothed in a white India muslin, with
carnations at her breast. The earl
bowed lowland then kissed her cheeks
and led her to a chair, which he
placed between Hyde and himself.
Katherine was predisposed to emi
gration, but yet she dearly loved the
home she had made so beautiful. Dur
ing Hyde’s convalescence, also, other
plans had become very hopeful and
pleasant, and they could not be cast
aside without some reluctance.
It was on a cold, stormy ifternoon
in February, when the ions were
white with snow. Hyde sat !iy the big
^ wood fire, re-reading a letter from
” Joris Van Heemskirk, which also in
closed a copy of Josiah Quincy’s
speech on the Boston Port Bi'l. Kath
erine had a piece of worsted work in
her hands.
It was at this moment Letticc came
in with a bundle of newspapers. “They
be brought by Sir Thomas Swaffham’s
man-, sir, with Sir Thomas’ compli
ments; there being news he thinks
you would like to read, sir.”
Hyde opened the papers with eager
curiosity and read the news from
America.
“I must draw my sword again.
j Katherine,” he said, as his hand im
pulsively went to his left side. "I
thought I had done with it forever;
hut, by St. George, I'll draw it in this
quarrel! ”
"The American quarrel, Richard?”
"No other could so move me. Every
good man and true wishes them well.
Are you willing?”
"Only to be with you.only to please
you, Richard. I have no other happi
ness.”
“Then it is settled. The earl buys
Hyde as it stands: we have nothing
except our personal effects to pack.
Write to-night to your father. Tell
him that we are coming in two weeks
to cast our lot with America.”
When Joris Van Heemskirk received
this letter he was very much excited
by itp contents.
He was sitting in the calm evening,
with unloosened buckles, in a cloud
of fragrant tobacco, talking of these
things. Then he put on his hat and
walked down his garden. He was
standing on the river bank, and the
meadows over it were green and fair
to see, and the fresh wind blew into
his soul a thought of its own un
trammeled liberty. He looked up and
down the river, and lifted his face to
the clear sky, and said aloud, “Beauti
ful land! To be thy children we
should not deserve, if one inch of thy
soil we yielded to a tyrant. Truly a
vaderland to me and to mine thou
hast been. Truly do I love thee.”
Then, with his mind made up, he
went into the house.
In a few minutes Elder Semple came
in. He looked exceedingly worried,
and, although Joris and he avoided
politics by a kind of tacit agreement,
he could not keep to kirk and com
mercial matters, but constantly re
turned to one subject—a vessel lying
at Murray’s wharf, which had sold
her cargo of molasses and rum to the
"Committee of Safety.”
Joris let the elder drift from one
grievance to another, and he was just
in the middle of a sentence contain
ing the opinion of Sears and Willet,
when Bram’s entrance arrested it. He
walked straight to the side of Joris:
“Father, we have closed his majes
ty’s custom house forever.”
“We! Who, then, Bram?”
“The Committee of Safety and the
Sons of Liberty.”
Semple rose to his feet, trembling
with passion. “Let me tell you, then,
Bram, you are a parcel o’ rogues and
rebels; and, if I were his majesty, I’d
gibbet the last ane o' you.”
“Patience, elder. Sit down, I’ll
speak
“No, councillor, I’ll no sit down un
til I ken what kind o’ men I’m sitting
wi’. Oot wi’ your maist secret thoughts.
Wha are you for?”
“For the people and for freedom, am
I,” said Joris, calmly rising to his
feet. “Too long have we borne injus
tice. Bram, my son, I am your com
rade in this quarrel.” He spoke with
fervent, but not rapid speech, and with
a firm, round voice, full of magical
sympathies.
“I’ll hear nae mair o' such folly.
Gie me my bonnet and plaid, madam,
and I’ll be going. I hope the morn
will bring you a measure o’ common
sense." He was at the door as he
spoke; but, ere he passed it, he lifted
his bonnet above his head and said,
“God save the king! God save his
gracious majesty, George of Eng
land!”
Joris turned to his son. To shut up
the king's customs was an overt act of
treason. Bram, then, had fully com
mitted himself, and, following out his
own thoughts, he asked abruptly,
"What will come of it, Bram?”
“War will come, and liberty—a
great commonwealth, a great coun
try.”
In the meantime Semple, fuming
and ejaculating, was making his way
slowly home. However, before he had
gone very far, he was overtaken by
his son Neil, now a very staid and
stately gentleman, holding under the
government a high legal position in
the investigation of the disputed New
Hampshire grants.
He listened respectfully to his fath
er’s animadversions on the folly of
the Van Heemskirks; but he was
thinking mainly of the first news told
him—the early return of Katherine.
He was conscious that he still loved
Katherine, and that he still hated
Hyde. So Neil was somber and silent.
His father was uncertain as to his
views, and he did not want to force or
hurry a decision.
Next morning, when the elder
reached the store, the clerks and por
ters were all standing together talk
ing. He knew quite well what topic
they were discussing with such eager
movements and excited speech. But
they dispersed to their work at the
sight of his sour, stern face, and he
did not intend to open a fresh dispute
by any question.
Apprentices and clerks then showed
a great deal of deference to their mas
ters, and Elder Semple demanded the
full measure due to him. Something,
however, in the carriage, in the faces,
in the very tones of his servants’
voices, ofTended him; and he soon
discovered that various small duties
had been neglected.
“Listen to me, lads," he said angrily,
“I’ll have nae politics mixed up wi’
my exports and imports. Neither king
nor Congress has aught to do wi' my
business; and if there is among you
ane o’ them fools that ca’ themselves
the ‘Sons o 'Liberty,' I’ll pay him what
ever I owe him now. and he can
gang to Madam Liberty for his future
wage.”
He was standing on the step of his
high counting desk as he spoke, and
he peered over the little wooden rail
ing at the men scattered about with
pens or hammers or goods in their
hands. There was a moment’s silence,
then a middle-aged man quietly laid
down the tools with which he was
closing a box, and walked up to the
desk. The next moment, every one
in the place had followed him. Sem
ple was amazed and augry, but he
made no sign of either emotion. He
counted to the most accurate fraction
every one’s due, and let them go with
out one word of remonstrance.
But, as soon as he was alone, he felt
the full bitterness of their desertion,
and he could not keep the tears out of
his eyes as he looked at their empty
places.
At this juncture Neil entered the
store. “Here's a bonnie pass, Neil;
every man has left the store. I may
as weel put up the shutters.”
“There are other men to be hired.”
“They were maistly a’ auld stand
bys, auld married men that ought to
have had mair sense.”
"The married men are the trouble
makers; the women have hatched and
nursed this rebellion. If they would
only spin their webs, and mind their
knitting!”
“But they willna, Neil, and they
never would. If there’s a pot o’ re
bellion brewing between the twa
poles, women will be dabbling in it.
They have aye been against lawfu’
authority. The restraints o’ paradise
was tyranny to them. And they get
worse and worse; it isna ane apple
would do them the noo; they’d strip
the tree, my lad, to its vera topmost
branch.”
“You ought to know, father. 1
have small and sad experience with
them.”
“Sae, I hope you’ll stand by my
side. We twa can keep the house
thegither. If we are a’ right, the gov
ernment will whistle by a woman’s
talk.”
“Did you not say Katherine was
coming back?"
“I did that. See there, again. Hyde
has dropped his uniform, and sold a’
that he has, and is coming to fight in
a quarrel that’s nane o’ his. Heard
you ever such foolishness? But it is
Katherine’s doing; there’s little doot
o’ that.”
“He’s turned rebel, then?”
“Ay has he. That’s what women do.
Politics and rebellion is the same
thing to them.”
“Well, father, I shall not turn rebel.”
“Oh, Neil, you take a load off my
heart by thae words!”
“I have nothing against the king,
and I could not be Hyde’s comrade.”
(To be continued.)
GESTURES IN GENERAL USE.
Motions That Are Common to All Na
tions of the Earth.
Certain gestures are absolutely
identified with certain feelings. To
shake one’s fist is to threaten; to
hold up one’s finger is to warn. To In
dicate thought we place the tips of
the fingers on the forehead; to show
concentrated attention we apply the
whole hand. To rub the hands Is
everywhe-e a sign of joy, and to clap
them a sign of enthusiasm. It would
be easy to multiply examples. Af
firmation, negation, repulsion are all
indicated by motions that every one
understands.
It is the same, in quite as great a
degree, with nationalities, in spite of
the original diversity of the races that
make them up. The mimetic cnar
acter results at once from race, from
history and from climate.
The gesture of .the Englishman is
fierce and harsh; he speaks briefly,
brusquely; he is cold, positive, force
ful. His salutation is cold and accen
tuated, but his handshake is loyal.
The gesture of Germany is heavy,
good humored and always ungraceful.
Many of the Slav people are unwilling
to look one in the face, and they have
a false gesture.
The Spaniard and the Portuguese,
although dwelling in a Southern land,
gesticulate little; their language is
rythmic, slow, solemn; they are grave,
their salutation is a little theatrical.
The Italian is lively, mobile, intel
ligent, gay; his language is harmo
nious, sonorous, warm and luminous,
like his country’s sky. The salutation
of the Italian is quick and full of
feeling, his gestures colored and ex
aggerated.
Won the Old Man.
“Sir,” he said to her father, “this
Is a practical world. The spirit of
commercialism cannot be throttled by
the tender bonds of sentiment. Per
haps you have noticed this?”
“I cannot say I have,” replied the
stern parent “but that needn’t detain
you.”
“Of course not,” said the youth with
an afTable smile. “What I was about
to say is that while I am sitting up
courting your daughter I feel that it
would be no more than fair to offer
to pay for the gas I assist in consum
ing.”
“Good," said the old man. “And
how about the coal? Do you expect
me to throw that in?”
"Certainly not,” cried the youth.
"I’ll gladly throw in the coal. Bless
you, I worked my way through college
tending a furnace.”
And the old man smiled approv
ingly.
The real difference between men is
energy. A strong will, a settled pur
pose, an invincible determination, can
accomplish almost anything; and in
this lies the distinction between
great men and little men.—Fuller,
. — .. . . ~ ———————i^»
LINCOLN, THE WHITE HOUSE 1
_AND SPRINGFIELD MONUMENT |
Thomas W. Lloyd of Montoursvllle,
Penn., relates the following interest
ing remiscences of Abraham Lincoln:
"I saw Abraham Lincoln for tho
first time in the winter of 1863, at one
of his public receptions. I was only
a child, but had heard so much of
Abraham Lincoln that I had a sort of
vague idea that he was not a mere
man, but some kind of a divinity to be
worshipped from afar, and naturally I
was anxious to see him. 1 was there
fore permitted to accompany my
father, who was then serving as chief
clerk of the House of Representatives,
to one of the presidential receptions. I
knew nothing of public functions at
that time, and had some sort of no
tion that we would only be permitted
to gaze upon the great man from a dis
tance. When we came to him in tho
line, however, and he had greeted my
father with a few pleasant words and
we were about to pass on, the Presi
dent said: ‘Wait one moment; I
haven’t shaken hands with this little
man.’ He took me by the hand,
patted' me on the head, said a few
kind words to me and wo passed on.
“Latter in the same winter I met
him again at my own home in Penn
sylvania. At the beginning of the
war, as a mere child, I was fired with
patriotic spirit and went about the
streets of my native village making
speeches, urging every man to enlist. I
did not then know what the war
meant, but I knew ‘our side’ was right,
simply because it was ‘our side,’ and
my appearance on the street w'as a
signal tq get me up on a store goods
box to make a speech. My father
had related this to Lincoln and asked
permission to bring me to the White
House. This was granted and one
morning we drove there and were re
ceived by the President alone. As he
rose from his chair to greet us 1 re
member thinking he was the longest,
ugliest and most ungainly man 1 had
ever seen. When l was presented to
him he leaned down, and, taking me
by the hand, said: ‘So this is the
little patriot. Ah, Mr. Lloyd, in these
times the boy is indeed father to the
man. I wish all the men in the North
had his spirit.’
As ne toon me on nis Knee ana
talked to me of the war, all the ugli
ness was forgotten, and as I looked
into his face and saw the deep sc«t,
kindly eyes, the firm mouth, about
which a smile hovered, and listened to
his gentle voice, I began to think he
was positively handsome. As 1 look
back upon the scene, it brings many
tender memories of the man who,
amid all the cares and burdens of his
position and witn the fate of a mighty
nation weighing upon his heart, could
find time enough to say a few kind
words to a little child.
“As a still further illustration of
this kindness of heart is the following
incident, which I have heard my
father relate. A young boy who had
served with distinction in a naval en
gagement on board the gunboat Ot
tawa, and in another as captain's mes
senger, was recommended to a cadet
ship at the Naval Academy at Annapo
lis. This appointment President Lin
coln was glad to make and the lad
was directed to report for examination
in July. Just as he was about to start
from home it was discovered that he
could not be admitted, because he had
not reached the required age of four
teen, his birthday occurring in the fol
lowing September. The boy was
greatly disappointed and wept bitterly
in the fear that he would not be able
to go at all. He was told, however,
that he would be taken to see the
President, who would ‘make it all
right.’ Some time afterward he was
taken to the White House and pre
sented to the President, to whom he
made a graceful bow. The diffici-'tv
was explained and the President said:
‘Why, bless me, is that the boy who
did so gallantly in those two battles?
Why, I feel as though I should take
off my hat to him and not he to me.’
The President took the papers, and as
soon as he learned that a postpone
the Lincoln ltonuttent
at jmLNoercLD'Uz.
ment until September would suffice
made the order that the lad should re
port in that month. Then, putting his
hand on the lad’s shoulder, he said:
‘Now, my boy, go home and have' good
fun during the two months, for they
are the last holiday you will get.’ The
little fellow- bowed himself out, feeling
that the President, though a great
man, was at the same time a kindly
one.
“It was these simple characteristics
of this large and manysided man that
endeared him to all with whom he
came in contact, and while we admire
the intellect and ability of the states
man wre love the man."
KNEW WHERE LINCOLN STOOD
Simple Way in Which He Manifested
His Earnestness.
While I was an inmate of Gleason
Sanitarium, Elmira, N. Y., I heard the
following anecdote of Abraham Lin
coln. We had at the sanitarium a very
old gentleman by the name of Z. C.
Robbins. He was of New Hampshire
by birth, but had lived in Washington
for fifty years, his business being a
patent lawyer. He was intimately ac
quainted with Mr. Lincoln and was
selected by him as chairman of the
first police commissioners aftei' his in
auguration in 1861. To this Mr. Rob
bins I owe the recital of the story to
which I have alluded. He said:
After the emancipation proclamation
had been written, it will be remem
bered, six months were given to the
Confederates to lay down their arms
and come back to the Union, before it
was to go in force. Providing the
South returned to the allegiance to the
Union as of yore, the proclamation
was not to be issued. But God was
working out the destiny of this na
tion, and not man, and the result is
known to history.
The early elections had gone against
the Republican party. Republicans be
came alarmed. A tremendous press
ure was brought to bear upon Lincoln
to withdraw the threatened issue, of
the proclamation, upon the day fixed.
They declared that it was against the
spirit and wish of the people, and
would ruin the party. Letters came
pouring in from every state in the
Union begging, imploring, sometimes
threatening, and it was feared by a
few stanch anti-slavery men of the
country that Mr. Lincoln could not
withstand the pressure. But he said
nothing, kept his own counsel, and no
man knew his mind.
One day about a week before the
time in which the proclamation was
to go into force, Mr. Robbins, as was
his privilege, walked into the office of
Mr. Nicolay, private secretary to Mr.
Lincoln. He was feeling very anx
ious, for it was a dark and gloomy
time for the country. Mr. Lincoln’s
room adjoined that of Mr. Nicolay, and
while Mr. Robbins was sitting at an
open Are, talking to Mr. Nicolay, Mr.
Lincoln walked in, put his hand upon
the shoulder of Mr. Robbins and said:
"Well, old friend, the important day
draws near."
“Yes,” replied Mr. Robbins, ‘and I
hope there will be no backing down or
backing out on your part.”
'LftjroLWj
‘ ~’(m>ux£
“Well, I don't know,” says Lincoln:
“Peter denied his Master. He thought
he wouldn't, but he did.”
Mr. Robbins says that he felt a
thrill pass over him. He knew by this
simple but subtle hint that the soul of
Lincoln was determined, and the
Union and liberty were secured.
The great day came and with it free
dom to. both black and white. Hypoc
risy had fallen; sincerity and manhood
had come to abide. A few days later
Mr. Robbins met Mr. Lincoln and the
latter grasped his hand and said:
"Well, friend Robbins, I beat Peter.”—
G. S. Kimball in the Bangor (Me.)
Commercial.
LINCOLN A PLAIN MAN.
Had Little Time to Waste on Appear
ances or Style.
When I first knew Lincoln he had
all the habiliments of rusticity; his
hat was innocent of a nap; his coarse
boots had no acquaintance with black
ing; his clothes had not been introduc
ed to the whisk-broom; his baggage
was well worn and dilapidated; his
umbrella was substantial, but of a
faded green, and for an outer garment
he wore a short circular blue cloak,
says Henry C. Whitney in Leslie's
Weekly. He commenced to dress
better in the spring of 1858, and when
he was absent from home, on political
tours, usually did so; after he became
President, he had a servant who kept
him considerably “slicked up;” but he
frequently had to reason him into
fashionable attire by telling him that
his appearance was “official.” He
probably had as little taste or style
about dress or attire as any man who
was ever born. He simply wore
clothes because it was needful and
customary: whether they fitted or
looked well was entirely above or be
neath his knowledge. He had no re
gard for trivial things, or for mere
forms, manners, politeness, etiquette,
official formalities, fine clothes, rou
tine or red-tape; he disdained a bill
of fare at table, a program at a thea
ter, or a license to get married. The
pleadings in a lawsuit, the formal
compliments on a social introduction,
the exordium or peroration of a
speech he either wholly Ignored or
cut as short as he could.
In all his political campaigns, the
music, flags and bunting were nothing
to him; he was thinking rather of the
statistics—how many votes were prob
able, and what the tendencies of
political thought, were to change
opinions and votes. And he also had
a thorough Contempt for the office of
bailiff or crier of a court, doorkeeper
of a legislative or Congressional body,
floorwalker in a store, drum-major in
a band, or even of mayor of a city or ■
town. He disliked to be called “Mr.
President” or even “Mr. Lincoln” by
his intimates; he called men by their
family names,
Lincoln's Love of Truth.
Slower of growth, and devoid alto
gether of many brilliant qualities
which Douglas possessed, says William
G. Brown in the February Atlantic,
Lincoln nevertheless outreached him
by the measure of the two gifts he
lacked—the twin gifts of humor and
ot brooding melancholy. Bottomed by
th’e one in homeliness, his character
was by the other drawn upward to
the height of human nobility and as
piration. His great capacity of pain,
which but for his buffoonery would no
doubt have made him mad, was the
source of his rarest excellencies. Fa
miliar with squalor, and hospitable to
vulgarity, his mind was yet tenanted
by sorrow, a place of midnight wrest
lings. In him as never before in any
other man, were high and low things
mated, and awkwardness and ungain
liness and uncouthuess justified in
their uses. At once coarser than his
rival and infinitely more refined and
gentle, he had mastered lessons which
the other had never found the need of
learning, or else had learned too read
ily and then dismissed.
