Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1872-07-06
THE sEvENrEENTH OF APRIL
BY ANY RANDOLPH.

/ 80 passed away the 'Mlser OF Millh-
Vile"
Pretty Rose Dunoyer was his
neice and his only surviving reia-
| tive.
When they came to examine the
| papers and possessions Of .tae dead
man, they found that his dying
vaunt was too true. He had been
pOpulsrly supposed 70 be very veal
| thv.
Karl Winsboro and Rose Dunoy-
er were quietly married in the lit
| tie village church az Mainyille, and
| commenced housekeeping in the old
farm house, where the old miser
had broOded for 30 many a dismal
year.
"What DO you suppose he could
have done with il, harl?" asked
Rose, one night; for the mysterious
| disappearance of the miser's money
furnished an ever-fruitful topic of
conversation to the young couple.
al don't know, Rose; but intend
to find out" calmly asserted Karl.
Rose left the table she was spread
ing, and came and leaned over his
shoulder.
"Karl, what do you mean?"
''What l say, dear / shall not let
| Uncle Seth's money interfere with
my daily work for daily bread, but
it shall be my constant study 70
search out the whereabouts at 9TH
or times. l shall be q new Colum-
bus, Rosie, discovering q continent
of gold. All, you may smile and
shake that wise little head Of yours,
but we shall sea-
And Karl Winsboro set himself 10
work diligently, as he had said
Not an inch of the old board floor
| ing but he examined separate; not
stSne Of the heavy, old-fashioned
| masonry but he tested and tried
with hammer and chisel. he took
up the broad, flat hearth tiles and
probed the morter under them; he
| sought FOR false backs 10 all cup
| boards, and secret springs to bu-
reau drawers. One old cabinet in
particular, which had been the de-
light of Uncle Seth's heart, he had
taken to pieces, reaping from that
proceeding, hover, naught but cob
webs and saw-dust.
81 told you il would be of no use,
Karl" said Rose despOndingly.
''Wait and see, little One," quoth
Karl, in no whit disheartened by
the oft-repeated failures he expo
rienced.
He went, page by page, through
Uncle Seth's library; il was not a
weighty task, inasmueh as the col
lection consisted only of "Web-
ster's Dictionary" Doddridge's
''Rise and Progress" Captain
Cooks Voyages" and "The Vesti-
ges of Creation" besides an old ac-
count book, "Speller and Definer,"
and an old almanac, whose years
had long since mingled with the
tides of the forgotten past. And
while Rose was at her evening nee
die, fashioned tiny garments of a
pattern long unknown in that an
cient house, Karl worked his way
through their mouldy pages with
unwearying perseverance.
"Rosie," he said all of q sudden
one frost-breathing September even
ing.
Rose was nearly asleep in the |
chimney corner, she opened her
gray eyes wide.
"Pve found a traee-the foot |
print on the sand that Robinson |
Crusoc discovered in his desert is
land. Couragel nv search has not |
been IN vain. Seei"
He showed her, in the age-yel- |
lowed almanac, a single date circled |
round by a pencil mark, drawn
blackly.
il was April 18th.
"But what do you make Of that?'
asked Rose, with a puzzled face.
gaNTaALsv..r . l. 4 ]
will lead us to the gold mine at !
last"
"How2"
That's Just what 1 don't know,
dear. But, as I've said before, in /
tend TO find oHt. The fourth month, |
the seventeenth day-fOur, seven
teen" And Kari Winsboro plung- |
ed into perfect maelstrOm OF med |
itatiVe conjecture.
The next day he went to work
He probed every board in every |
floor that was seventeen feet by four |
from any given angle, or seventeen
inches by four, or four by seven
teen. He counted the bricks in the |
oven, the stones in the chimney |
stack; but all in vain. The magic |
numbers, as Rose laughingly called |
lncm, leu 10 no result.
So far Seth DunOyer's dying /
words had proved true. He had |
perished, and kept his own secret
in his heart.
The Seventeenth of Aprilw mus
ed Karl. "Old Dunoyer never
marked that date for nothing. II
was not his wedding-day. for he /
never was married. 1t was not his |
birthday, for he came into the
world within the autumn rains on
the 21st Of November. II was not
a gala-day, for he never had any
dates but seed-time and harvest
But-the door of the mystery is
locked and l cannot find the key"
So Karl, baffled, yet not disheart-
ened, left OFT looking, yet still kept |
the search within his conscious
ness.
The harvest was over; the corn on
the mellow upland slopes was all
husked, and the great yellow pump
kins was gathered into the barn; the
maple leaves lay piled in red layers
about the paths, and the bush of
white chrysanthemums was all cres-
ted with snowy blossoms, at the
And Karl was busy
making a new garden on the south
side of the house, for the next
spring TO make in greenness and fer
tility.
''I suppose you will want a row
of CUrrant bushes?' he said laugh
ing, to Rose. "You women always
do"
"To be sure" >" said Rose gravely.
"Currant jelly, you know, Karl,
and there is such a wilderness Of
bushes down by the old sealed-up
well, for all you killed the best Of
them when you dug up the stones
TO look for uncle Seth's money"
Exactly" said Karl. "That was
before knew anything about the
seventeenth of April"
"Nonsense." said Rose, little
petUlantly. She was beginning to
get tired Of the seventeenth Of
April"
s'Weu," said Karl, with Z grim
mace, "come on and pick out your
own bushes, and I'u set 'em IN 4
straight row along the garden fence.
How many viii be enough Ten?"
Ten, indeed" cried Rose
IT Wcnty-tOUr, at the very least"
And with this she went out 20 the
Jangle OF bushes that grew IN strag-
cling, irregular rows in the angle of
the stone fence.
Take this one first, Karl" said
she" "It's a Giant White"
And then she began counting the
two, three, four, and
50 up to seventeen.
This Is the seventeenth one, eh?''