The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1872-05-10
OCTAvIA HADLEGms STORY.


I wonder if theshumble moth, safe
ly sheltered beneath the protecting
greenery OF some household cabbage,
every feels a thrill Of envy when the
gorgeous butterfly, with wings all
ablaze with velvety maroon and gold,
alight close by him? If so, the
moth must feel just l felt when Cor
nelia Bydexter sat in our poor little
parlor that November day, with her
chains and rings, and looped-up
draperies Of cashmere, and primrose
colored kid gloves buttoled with
links Of gold.
It was rather hard; for I coul re-
member the cd days when COrneia
and 1 went to school together, and
I wrote her compositions for her,
and looked out hard words in the
French dictionary. There is no re-
public like q school, and CorneIia
was thankful to be allowed to sit
next to me then; and now she actu-
ally presumed to patronize me; no,
not exactly that, either, for Corntlia
Bydexter, Notwithstanding her lack
of brains, was an honest, warm
hearted sort of girl. But the poor
are sensitive, and although 1 was
pleased to see my old school mate,
the pleasure was not unmixed bit
terness.
Yes, we are poor; and the fact
stared me in the face whenever |
ventured to look. That we had been
rich was no matter of consolation.
The room was filed with ilI-assor!ed
furniture that had once been splen-
pid in rosewood shine and CLEANS
of satin and brocatelle. The car
pets, now worn threadbare, were of
royal velvet and Administer, and the
whole apartment bore vestiges of
that shabby gentility, that poor pre-
tense of newness and freshness,
which is more pathetic by far than
the undisguised front of poverty.
1 was tired of arranging the cur
tains so that the darned holes should
fall in the inner folds. 1 was weary
of puttin5 mended china vases in
the shadOwy hooks of mantel and
table. Where was the use? Did not
everybody see through our misera-
BILE devices? We were poverty
stricken, and there was an end to it.
And yet poor papa sat there in
that forlOrn, secOnd-rate little room
like a Wis cunt in his reception
chamber. Dear papa! ever since
his paralytic stroke he had seemed
to believe in himslf to degree I
could not possibly attain to, and to
amagine that the world also put
faith in him. Nor would he have it
otherwise. And dear mamma, who
could not look aught else than a
lady in spite Of mended laces and
oft-turned silks, never told him of
the daily contests with unpaid
butcher, dissatisfied baker, and
clamorously insolent candle-stick
maker! And Jeannette and I, just
at the age when life ought-accord-
ing to all we had read and heard
to wear its sunniest aspect, grew up
III the shadow, crying softly to our
selves when it was bitterest to en-
dure silence, for it was part of our
domestic creed to keep all the dis
agreeable from poor papa.
"Yes, said papa, nodding his
head as he sat IN gorgeous Turk
ish dressing gown by the window,
his slippered feet ON an embroidered
ottoman, and one white slender fin
ger inserted between the pages Of
the book he had been reading all the
mornin = "yes, you are quite right,
Miss Bydexter; Octavia is growing
very pretty"
And I could feel myself blushing
scarlet, between my delight at re-
ceiving q compliment from papa and
my EN- tarrassment at feeling all the
family eyes-Miss Bydex,e er's in
cluded-turnedu upon me.
'It's a shame she should be shut
up here!" said Miss Bydexter In her
soft soprano voice, when al the
world is getting ready to enjoy it.
self Come Octavia, what 90 you
say to going to New York with me
this Winter,
"Wife, said papa, loftily-some-
how tie manner was just as natural
to him as the air breathed -" by
don't we send cur little girl 10 New
York? Mss b. deX ,r's kind offer
ought not to be shghted, and it re.sl-
ly would be a great advan age, So
cially speaking, to the child
Visions OF Broadway seen through
the sunshine of December day, of
tie Fifth avenue and Cenaal Park,
! Stewa1t's and DelmonIco'a of brass
bands and lighted ball 7, oms, shot
dizzily across my brain for the in
stant, as a hungry man dreams of
unlimited food l felt the burn OF
the kindlipg lights IN my eyes as
looked from papa to mamma. And
then common sense, for moment
frightened off her throne, came back
to me, and 1 knew how impractical
BILE, not TO say impossible, the plan
was. Jeanette uttered a little rap
turous cry:
"Oh, Octayia, wouldn't it be nice!
If we only hal the money!"
"Yes-if," mamma answered, with
that soft, moon light sort of suile
she has at times. 'Bus you know,
my dear"
But papa would not allow her to
finish the sentenc &c. j deep, ma
hogany-colored flush mounted tu
his forehead, and 1 noticed his brows
meet darkly.
"If Octavia wishes he said, 81 can
very easily draw check upon the
bank for her expenses.
Mamma breathed quick and shor :
Jeanette opened W de her honest
blue eyes.
cit would be delightful said Miss