Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-12-23


~HA~ beth or Shylock is
IN .%azssssszse not now in mind; but
rather that in Gin
derella, whose little fur slipper led her
from ashes to gold and from insult to affec-
ton. Culture develops the sense of justice,
and to behold poor girl pass upward to
happiness is a vision grander than that of
an Italian sunset.
The earthquake of New Madrid began in
December, 1911, and kept up it's reign Of
terror until the next March. When the
first steamboat was making it's exciting
trip down the Mississippi it found the
wonder of its own self surpassed by the
wonder of nature. The sun became dim,
red spot in the sky; the air seemed con-
nected in some manner with furnace; the
birds flew in AM out of the woods in alarm;
dogs moaned and kept close to the feet Of
their masters; islands disappeared before
the steamboat; shores sunk when it's pilot
attempted to land; the river was as tor
mented as the rapids of Niagara, and
dreadful thunders added the solemnity of
sound to the many strange phenomena be-
fore the eye In these days of awe and tu-
multi tract Of country almost hundred
miles long sunk and became chain of
ravines marshes and lakes.
On Christmas morning two families which
had spent happy years upon adjoining
farms met with broken hearts, not to ex-
tract from the day any of its old merri-
ment, but to confer with each other about
moving to some more firm foundation in
the North or South. The little children had
no Christmas gifts over which to be 6 lad.
They were silent, for they had seen part
of the orchard sink until only the tops of
the trees were visible, and had heard their
fOY, 1cy,r nd C+i1
longer nights All were worn out with the
continued terror and the advancing loss. 1t
was not necessary to hold long debate. To
remain was impossible.
No young hearts could be sadder than
were those of Martin Robinson and Flor
ence Ayer-the Oldest children of these
groups. The lad was only twelve years
old, the little girl nine, and yet they had
cried bitterly many time since the ca
lamity began it's work. Their school had
closed, their daily play had ceased, their
dreams of Christmas had vanished, and,
added to these ills, came the thought of
separation. AS the older people say, Mar
tin and Florence were in love with each
other. When possible they walked hand in
hand In school they managed to pass
many little notes to each other. Neither
one ever looked up from the lesson with
out taking good look at the other, and it
did often seem to the teacher that the
chances given to the books were neither so
frequent nor so absorbing as those given to
the idOliZed faces But the teacher could
not make loud complaint because the erring
pupils were very kind and respectful to
him, and, what rendered him more tolerant,
he was suffering from an extreme partial
ity for the daughter of the village doctor,
and knew how such a passion extracted
sweetness from nothing but itself. Flor
ence had said to Martin ''Our master
must be good man, for he sings to himself
in the woods and seems to look up toward
the trees and sky as though in prayer"
ooh, FlOssie, tits no hymn he sings; for he
sang words to me one night on our way
home; it was all about some friend. can
sing one verse:
My world contains but one;
Though in the crowded street,
A countless throng meet,
The gay, the rich, the sweet,
OF these my soul asks none,
Myworld contains but one,
In every hour, in every place,
hear her voice, see her face"
"What good song for me to sing, Mar
tin, when | am far from you!n
If this country schOolmaster sang with
personal interest such melody while
his home-bound foot was stirring the Oc-
tober leaves he could not find it in his heart
to place any obstacle in the way of the
friendship of the two children of our story.
Florence Aver was much beyond her
years in mind and beauty. Her memory
was full of poetic scraps which pleased her
by its sOnorous endings, even when the
depth of the sentiment was not fully sound
ed. Into her goodbye letter to her school
mate this blessed child poured some of her
poetic resources:
dearest Tim:
Goodbye, goodbye, my path and thine
Run side by side no more,
Thy life is hid and hidden mine,
We seek an unknown Shore
Our hands to-day we sever,
Our hearts so bound together
Will be thus bound forever"
In this separation the Robinson family
removed to Cincinnati, the Aver family to
lonely country place not far from Nash
vile. The fathers in this story changed
pursuits. Mr. Robinson made a small be-
ginning in a business then offering much
promise-supplying the South with cured
meat; Mr.. Aver rented a mill which, fed
by a kind of spring and hill-torrent, did a
miscellaneous work for farming commu-
nifty. To it came the farmers boy,
and sometimes the farmers daugh-
corn to be made into meal
or a bushel of buckwheat When wheat
was to be ground the father took ten
bushels in wagon and passed most of the
day waiting for his turn and his grist The
mill had long been held by some one in the
Aver family and was rented to this I'M
fortunate cousin or brother upon terms so
generous that the lease was almost equiva-
lent to deed. As the seasons and years
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