mniiii 
SEPT.IS 
MOOBE’S RURAL WEW-YOBKER 
SONNET. 
BT D. W. C. PACKARD. 
The meek, unselfish heart doth nil things own. 
Whether of high or low, or great or small. 
And Love for such doth build a mightier throne 
Than fenced by cannon’s throat or bnsttoned wall! 
And Its inheritance Is elder drawn 
Than longest lino of Egypt,’* hurled kings— 
It is new crowned With every golden morn— 
And every hrcc7o it-* world-swung censer swings: 
Thus mad inubition misses while It gains— 
And is more poor than beggar at Its sates, 
While the meek spirit, ealru to joys or pains. 
Bears in its breast all gifts of kindly Fates: 
So the great ocean, when no tempest mars, 
Maketh itself a heaven beneath tho stars! 
Brockton. Mass., July, 1S7L 
LIFE. 
A ROST cloudlet, born of the sun. 
In the West, ere Its golden cog^o Is run, 
Sailing the skins In the evening light. 
Gathering gloom In Its onward flight, 
Till It's lost 
In tbo darkening night 
Bound it. tost; 
Snob Is Life. 
A floweret budding In merry Spring, 
Nursed in the shade of an angel s wing, 
Blooming fresh in the warm sun’s rays. 
Till it droops in the cheerless Autumn days. 
And Is swept 
From Its brother’s gaze. 
Scarce unwept; 
Such Is Life. 
A streamlet leaving the mountain’s feet. 
Enriching bright meadows and fields of wheat. 
Kissing tbo wild flowers bending low 
To its breast. It’s gono in the flow 
Of the sea, 
I,ike n moment ago 
To eternity; 
Such is life. 
<®ur ^tortr-®dl(*r. 
CARL BERTZ: 
HIS LOVE AND DISAPPOINTMENT. 
BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR. 
Expecting to leave homo for a somewhat, 
lengthy business trip, I hail boon making use 
of a few leisure days to rid my private desk of 
unnecessary papers, and In doing so came across 
a bundle of letters and a ruinaturc. As 1 opened 
the case a frank, handsome faco looked at. mo ; 
the eyes seemed to smile as I gazed earnestly 
at them, and a soft, sweet, expression around 
the mouth betokened an almost womanly ten¬ 
derness. It was the likeness of my cherished 
friend and colloagfle, CARL Berth. Many years 
have passed since he and I purled for the last 
time, and now this miniature and these letters 
are all I have of one whom I loved even as 
Jonathan loved Dxvm. 
I had first met, him when but a young man, 
studying for the medical profession in the old 
college of X, in Ger¬ 
fortune to meet. He graduated heforo me 
with honor, and left the college regretted by 
all. We kept up an almost dally correspond¬ 
ence, and when I too had completed mystudles 
and left, it was with Carl, lie having insisted 
that for a time at least hla home should bo 
mine. Owing to his father's position and Influ¬ 
ence I settled down In the pleasant little town 
of A, near by, and hnnglngout my sign, awaited 
my fortune. We had many pleasant days to¬ 
gether and made some warm friends, some of 
whom stay by me even to this day, but more, l 
think, for Carl's sake than mine. 
Among our acquaintances was a gentleman 
of the name of Tracy. He was a man of 
wealth and refinement, and, with hia wife and 
daughter, usually spent most of the summer 
months In a pretty villa adjoining the home of 
Carl. Eleanor Tract, the daughter, had 
traveled much and was highly cultivated, and 
withal was exceedingly beautiful. We visited 
tile TRACTS together ami saw much of them, 
yet. I never made much headway In my ac¬ 
quaintance with MIbs Trace. There are some 
people to whom we are always antagonistic, 
and It was so In tills ceso—I never could like 
her. She was cold, calculating, a proud woman 
and an imperiouscoquette—accustomed all her 
life to homage and pralso, ami caring for little 
elso than her own personal gratification. 
From t.ho lime Carl first, visited her she 
treated him with all the frankness and cor¬ 
diality so winning on a nature like his. She 
played and sang divinely, and Carl, who, like 
most of his countrymen, was passionately fond 
of music, -would sit by her Bide entranced, 
sometimes accompanying on the flute, but 
oftoner watching her beautiful face and the 
movement of her soft, white hands. It was 
not strange that, looking on from my point of 
view, I could easily tell how t.ho piny would 
end. I did not think she loved him—such 
women do not usually caro for natures like his 
—but was winning him BOh ly for his wealth. I 
warned Carl of her, told him what I felt was 
the truth, but he would not hoed me, and for 
the first time since he knew me left me In 
anger, and I did not see him for several days. 
Then ho came hack full Of penitence, sorry 
I lint he had said one harsh word. He told me 
he loved Miss Tract and was willing to sacri¬ 
fice anything for her sake; he know she was 
proud and cold; but If he could win her, ho 
thought, aB his wife she would ho different. 
He would tell her of her faults, etc., and then 
ho went on In the usual style of lovers; and I 
listened, knowing It useless to Interfere, but 
them many times, but always with company. 
Mv old, familiar footing with Caicl was ended ; 
our pleasant talks and walks were things of the 
past; somehow I felt I was losing my friend. 
Just about this time I received a letter from 
an uncle in America urging me strongly to come 
to him. He was my only living relative, and 
America was my birth-place. Having no tics 
to bind mein Germany, and wishing much again 
to trend my native land, f gave u^i my position 
In A- and came home. 1 arrived here just 
before tbo breaking out of the rebellion, and 
remained with my uncle till the call •* to arms!” 
resounded through the country; then f obtain¬ 
ed a position ns surgeon in the army and started 
Tor the scat of war, remaining there till the 
close of the dreadful struggle and we were once 
more at peaeo. 
It wns after one of our hottest battles just 
before the Close of the war, and I was upon the 
field trying to aid and alleviate the suffering* 
of the wounded, and bearing the dying words 
of rnnny a bravo man. We had worked bard, 
and had secured most of I he wounded. To our 
left lay a pllo of men, some seven or eight, in 
number; they seemed to have been cut down 
at one time, and to nil appearance had not 
moved since they fell. We lifted the poor fel¬ 
lows carefully and laid them away. Aa the cap 
was drawn away from the last man's face, l 
sprang aside, for there, with his white-set feat¬ 
ures facing the sky, lay CAUL BKRTZ. f knelt 
beside him; ho was not dead, hut the blood 
was oozing slowly from a frightful wound in 
his side. T stanched the flow, bathed Ills poor 
stained face, and had him taken to my own 
quarters, whither I followed Immediately, fie 
was still unconscious, and seemed to have been 
crushed inwardly by the weight of Ihe men 
upon him. Oh, that I had found him sooner! 
His right arm and leg were broken and the 
wound In his side was fatal; already mortifica¬ 
tion had set in. I loft word to be railed as soon 
as he recovered consciousness fully, and wont 
to attend my other patients with a heart sore 
and heavy. In a little while word was aeut for 
mo. I went. lie was lying with his eyes cdosed, 
hut the shutting of the door aroused him. Ho 
turned his headslowlv; the strangest, saddest 
smile hovered on his face for a moment. Ho 
took my extended hand In his unbroken one 
and held it. Neither spoke. lie was the first 
to regain composure, and in those tones so 
familiar he said, “Well, old fricDd, wo meet 
again.” I sat down beside him and lifted the 
light flowing hair from his forehead. He was 
I very much altered ; there was little left of the 
shuddered for him, feeling that hla happy, , Jol,y, happy follow of other days. He could not 
sunny life was to ho darkened. Ho had little 
trouble to win Miss Tracy, and in less than a 
year after she became his wife. They had a 
splendid wedding, and then CARL, happy and 
Joyous with Ilia beautiful bride, left for a pro¬ 
tracted wedding tour. 
I was still In A. when tboy returned, and wan 
one of the first to welcome thorn. They had 
settled down In Carl's beautiful borne, and 
the house was thronged with friends. Every¬ 
thing that money could bring was theirs, yet I 
fancied there was a hollow ring to Carl's 
laugh, and his manner was restrained and ner¬ 
vous. Mrs. Hertz was surrounded by admirers 
wbo envied Carl his great happiness. 1 saw 
talk much, and I told him of myself and all 
that had happened since we parted, hut. did not 
spouk of hi* wife nor of htft own affairs. He 
lived just three days from the time I found him, 
suffering but little pain and passing away so 
gently none know the exact, moment, of hia 
death, Ife told mo Ids story -not all at one 
time, but In detached portions as his strength 
would permit. 
“ You must have noticed,” he said, “ before 
you loft mo that I was not perfectly happy. 
The cloud was beginning to rise which after¬ 
wards darkened the past, years mid made them 
bad ones Indeed. The first year or our married 
life was a happy one; after that Eleanor's 
many. I had gone 
there a stranger, 
knowing no one, 
having no friends. 
Carl had been there 
some littlewhile be¬ 
fore me, and was 
much further ad¬ 
vanced in his stud¬ 
ies. He was a smart 
fellow, with a warm, 
impulsive heart, and 
a genial, c o r d i a 1 
manner. I do not 
know why he chose 
me for his particular 
friend, for I was of a 
nature just the op¬ 
posite of his, being 
cold and phlegmatic 
and making but few 
friends. He was the 
son of a wealthy 
gentleman, having 
money at hie com¬ 
mand and studying 
the profession sim¬ 
ply for the sake of 
something to do. I 
was poor, and ex¬ 
pected as soon as J 
graduated to derive 
from the medical 
profession as much 
benefit as it might 
derive from me. 
Carl spent his va¬ 
cations and holidays 
at home, and I went 
with him, thorough¬ 
ly enjoying the de¬ 
lightful days spent 
under his father's 
hospitable roof, lie 
had a beautiful 
home and every¬ 
thing heart could 
wish, yet with it all 
was the most unpre¬ 
tending, honest fel¬ 
low It has been my 
manner toward me began to change. I could 
hardly toll how; at first, there was nothing to 
complain of, yet something seemed coming 
between us to part. u« two. Oh, how I did love 
her!" ho exclaimed, in Ids earnest way. “ You 
know Eleanor was fond of being admired, and 
justly, for alio was so beautiful, and 1 rather 
encouraged In. r, for I was proud of my wife. 
We had a great deal of company, and among 
others Ralph Barry you remember him?” 
he asked. 
I did well. He was a vory handsome man but 
a most unprincipled one. 
” Well, ho Was always coming to the house, 
bringing Eleanor some choice gift each time, 
which she always accepted with evident pleas¬ 
ure. Did she ride ho was there to accompany 
her, or did she walk he was the first to offer as 
an escort, doing it all so gentlemanly and unob¬ 
trusively that I could not openly find fault with 
him, though at heart 1 knew It was not right. 
And ao things went on till I heard one day my 
wife's mi mo and Barry's coupled together in 
a sneering way, and my friends laughing at me 
for my blindness. 1 wont to Eleanor and in 
a quiet way told her all, um) she promised to he 
moro discreet. But there was no change; if 
possible she sought his company more, f could 
not hour this. I hastened to her, (old her site 
must, give him up; I, no her husband, command¬ 
ed tier to do so. She bore niy name, a pure, 
untarnished one; I would not have it sullied. 
1 told her how deeply I loved hornnd how much 
aho wounded me by her misconduct. 1 saw her 
lips curl as I spoke but she never answered mo, 
only when I paused for her to f peak, walked to 
the door and with the air of a queen opened it 
wide, waiting for me to pass out. I had oil, >decl 
beyond forgiveness, and left the room broken¬ 
hearted. 
The house that night, was full of company, 
hut, I could not mix with them, f heat'd my 
wlfo'a sweet tones In the hall, excusing my ab¬ 
sence, but she did not. oomo near me. Once in 
the night I hoard a step go by niy door and lis¬ 
tened, hut, it. was not repeated ; everything v s 
quiet. Towards morning I flung myself on a 
lounge and fell into an uneasy sleep, i awoke 
aa the sun wm just, rising; one golden beam 
stole In the window and rested on something 
white on the door-sill. J picked it up. ft was 
a letter. I recognized Eleanor’s handwriting. 
Tearing it open I read ‘(.'aul, you have been 
unjust, and have spoken words to-day I will 
not bear from any man. You are my lawful 
husband in n;une, hut my heart does not hold 
you. 1 loved 11 a no Lit Barry long before T 
know you, but sacrificed my love and married 
you for money and position. I give them both 
back to you nmv, choosing Ha bold rather ( h m 
stay with you. May you be happier without me 
than you have been with me.' 
“ It wns signed, * Eleanor Tracy.’ Sh© had 
rejected my mono even. 1 cannot dwell upon 
my anguish. I think for a while reason left nm 
Altera time I grew calmer, and a desperate 
fueling to oo my wife took possession «.f m > 
I traveled constantly, visiting every place 1 
thought they might visit, but, failed to fin.; 
them. Worn out and despairing I came to tlii 
country and, glad of any excitement, joined tin 
first regiment and entered the arniy. i wa , 
reckless, not caring to live, tm . -waped injun 
through many a bloody battle. These are nr 
——— llr st wounds,” and 
I II ... \ he looked at his poo: 
1 I 1 \| [A\\i \|, torn body, ”a„d they 
III l\ l l WlH be , my laat ' 1 
Kill 1 Mf !| am Kotng, comrade, 
(ill , | | I i | ' though j on are loth 
| | Ik I !| I . to teM mo- Should 
1 \ II l y °" ev,,r 8C « Elk *- 
M 11 1 U 11 V nor, tell her I loved 
I 11 \ yl 1 ' her to the l*«t— ” 
ill 111 i| II 1 !' I h Wg bl "-ied Carl in 
I I I' I * if II tho 9u »'»y South, 
I I I | U 7 \ I with true military 
I V 'll I /[i l/i ' honors ' I have Vis¬ 
’ll ’ |ll . i, K | j 1 ted his grave, so far 
I ill 1 1 k ' || ! jU 1 I i from home, many 
j VI |r |l 1 1 ||[| j| i times since, and 
| | j] II If lyl thought sadly how 
11 A 'M 111 ' I his happy life had 
III i , | | |l ' l I || ; been sacrificed to 
J||| | I [J | Vi /If ll| the love of an un- 
V 1 it j| | worthy woman. I 
■)'; 11 I|ijl | | V 'j never saw his wife 
fflll |f K n J a * !lin ' but learning, 
111 i Ulffl 11 || i r, i'l l' I 9nmo venrs after my 
W 'lili'JI ; mm friend’s death, that 
f'(!fflll'■' 8he had entered a 
ill Wmil ttlii I nonvent for life, I 
IlivliiMilWiffiFwIrraSrMlil'Hr I 81,11 fc llpr h is message, 
Jjfcflj ! filfflh “oping It might have 
ill’ 'mm 111 ' I Rom * «ood effect. 
-A.HNT EXCITING TAIL.”-(See Page 195.) 
Not Married.— 
Miss Gray of Inde¬ 
pendence, Mo., when 
they tried to marry 
her against her will, 
exhibited her pluck 
and Independence in 
this wise : — l. Sho 
kicked tho minis¬ 
ter's hat off. 2. Sho 
knocked the young 
man down. 3 . She 
rode off on a mule 
with one foot on 
each side of him. 
Smart girl that, and 
one worth winning 
by a sensible, wide¬ 
awake man. 
