The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1872-02-16
OCTAyIA HADLKIGH's STORY.

! I wonder if the humble moth, safe
| ly sheltered beneath the protecting
| greenery of some household cabbage,
ever feels a thrill of envy when the
| gorgeous butterfly, with wings all
| ablaze with velvety maroon and gold,
alights close by him? If so, the moth
must feel just as I felt when Cornelia
| BydeXter sat in our poor little parloT
that November day, with her chains
and rings, and lOOped-up draperies OF
cashmere, and primrose cOlOred- kid
gloves buttoned with links of gold.
1t was rather hard for I could re-
member the old days when CoTnelia
and went to school together, and I
wrote her compositions for her, and
looked out hard words in the French
dictionary. There is no republic like
a school, and COrnelia was thankful
to be allowed to sit next to me then /;
and now she actually presumed to
patrOniZe me; no, not exactly that,
either, for Cornelia Bydexter, not
withstanding her lack of brains, was
an honest, warm-hearted sort of girl.
But the poor are sensitive, and al
though was pleased to see my old
schooImate, the pleasure was not un-
mixed with bitterness.
Yes, we acre poor; and the fact
stared me in the face wherever I ven
tured to look. That we had been rich
was no matter Of consolation. The
room was filed with ill-assorted relics
of furniture that had once been splen-
did in rosewood shine and CLEANS of
satin and bTOcatelle. The carpets,
now worn threadbare, were of royal
velvet and Administer, and the whole
apartment bore vestiges of that shabby
IF
ness and freshness, which is more
pathetic by far than the undisguised
front of poverty. I was tired of
arranging the curtains so that the
darned holes should fall in the inner
folds. I was weary of putting glued
chairs in the least-used corners, and
setting mended china vases in the
shadOWy hooks of mantle and table.
Where was the use? =? Did not every
body see through our miserable de-
vices? We were pOverty-stricken
and there was an end of it.
And yet poor papa sat there in that
forlOrn, second-rate little room like a
ViscOunt in his reception chamber
Dear papa! ever since this paralytic
stroke he had seemed to believe in
himself to degree I could not pOssi-
bly, attain to, and to imagine that the
world also put faith in him. Nor
would we have had 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 can
dle-stick maker! And Jeannete and
I, just at the age when life ought
according to all we have read and
heard-tO wear its sunniest aspect,
grew up in the shadow, crying softly
to ourselves when it was bitterest to
indure in silence-for it was a part of
our domestic creed to keep all the dis
agreeables from poor papa.
"Yes," said papa, nOdding his head
as he sat in a gorgeous Turkish dress
ing gown by the window, his slipper
ed feet on an embroidered ottoman,
and one white slender finger inserted
between the pages of the book he had
been reading all the mOrning-''yes,
you are quite right, Miss Bydexter !;
Octavia IS growing very pretty"
And 1 could feel myself blushing
scarlet, between my delight at receiv-
ing a compliment from papa and my
embarrassment at feeling all the fam
lily eyes-AIiss Bydexter's included
turned upon me.
tits a shame she should be shut up
here!" said Miss Bydexter in her
soft soprano voice, "when all the
world is getting ready to enjoy itself.
Come, Octavia, what do you say to
going to New York with me this
winter?"
"Wife," said papa IoftiIy-some-
how the manner was just as natural
to him as the air he breathed-"why
don't we send our little girl to New
York Miss Bydexter's kind offer
ought not to be slighted, and it really
would be a great advantage, socially
speaking, to the child"
Visions of Broadway seen through
the sunshine on December day, of
the Fifth Avenue and Central Park
bands and lighted balI-roOms, shot
dizZily across my brain for the in
slant, as a hungry man dreams of un-
limited food. / felt the burn of the
kindling lights in my eyes as look
ed from papa to mamma. And then
common sense, for a moment fright
ened off her throne, came back to
me, and I knew how impracticable,
not 10 say impossible, the plan was.
But Jeanette uttered little raptuT-
Gus cry:
"Oh, Octavia, wouldn't it be nice!
If we only had the money"
"Yes-if," mamma answered, with
that soft, moonlight sort of smile she
had at times. "But you know my
dear"
But papa would not allow her to
finish the sentence. A deep, mahOg-
any-colored flush mounted on his
forehead, and 1 saw 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 short
| Jeanette opened wide her honest
blue eyes.
at would be delightful" said Miss
| Cornelia Bydexter, to whom one OF
| two hundred dollars was no more
than they would be to the lilies ofthe
field, "who toll not, neither do they
/ spin.n And poor mamma, who knew
very well that the hundred and fifty
/ dollars at the bank We're imperatively
needed for the already overdue rent,
skillfullY engineered the conversation
away from the rocks and shoals which
| pretended the shipWreck of our do
nestle peace.
"Yes, indeed,u said Miss Bydexter
unconsciously following mammals
lead, and plnnging into the great
"serviee" channel. sIive been very
badly treated; but servants are 9
thankless race. Louisa has left me
the ungrateful thing! Forty dollars
a month was paying her, too"
'fThat is a great sum to pay" saiC
mamma; and / knew the pang with
which she was thinking that this wa
exactly the sum in which we were
indebted to DR.. MOrtimOre. Not {
large amount in itself, to be sure, bu
4 enough to make US shrink from en-
countering him. Had L not gone ;
quarter of a mile out Of my way, only
yesterday, to avoid the necessity o
passing his dOOr2 Alas do the Tiet
| ever dream Of the fhnusand harhel