The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, November 06, 1875, Image 2
pants of the room; and a general rush was made
for the spot. j
“You knocked him down, eh?” inquired the
Colonel, as he rushed back. “Well, the only
way is to stand right up and fight it out. We’ve
got six-shooters, and they hadn’t better bear too j
heavily on us! ”
The fellow who had been knocked down rose
up after a moment, and then every voice was
hushed. _ _
“You will give me satisfaction for this?” he
inquired of Walter, shaking with rage as one
trembles with the ague.
“I will!” responded the young man.
A murmur of applause ran around the room.
The lights in the front part of the cafe were ex
tinguished, the doors locked, and the crowd
drew the tables back against the wall to make a
clear field.
“Boy, do you understand fighting with the
sword ?” asked the Colonel, while these prepara
tions were going on.
“I never even had a sword in my hand,” was
the answer.
“ Well, then, this is my fight. They don’t use
pistols in these little affairs, but settle them by
thrusting a fellow through the body. I ve han
dled the steel a few times, and yon just stand
back and hold my hat and watch the splinters
fly.”
When it was explained to the crowd that the
young man did not know how to use a rapier,
and that the Colonel was to act as principal, they
were just as well satisfied. A duel was what
they wanted to see, and it was of little conse
quence which American took the steel. A couple
of rapiers were brought out. the Colonel removed
his hat and coat, and then all was ready.
“Get back behind me next to the wall,” he
said to Walter, “and be ready for a rush. I’m
going to kill that Frenchman in just a minute
and a half, and when he goes down, the balance
will make for us like a party of Pawnee Indians!”
The crowd could not form a circle, as the
Americans had backed to the rear end of the
room to prevent such a scheme. The Colonel s
opponent carried a smiling face as he nodded to
his friends, seeming to think that he would win
an easy victory.
“Now then,” said the Colonel, stepping for
ward, “ hang on to in}’ hat and look out for flying
buttons!”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
[For The Sunny South.]
WHAT GYSSIK SAYS.
BY LA GEOROIENNE.
What’s old cow say ? Moo—oo!
That is it—but sweeter, too;
For did old Brownie's voice sound so.
Then mocking-birds might learn to low.
What's old rooster say ? Cuckoo—oo!
Yes, my baby, that will do;
Yet if it were only so,
Then nightingales might learn to crow.
What's old clock say ? Ting—ting!
That is it—the very thing;
But did it half so sweetly ring,
Thus sister May might learn to sing
All these sweet sounds, and more beside—
A happy, merry-rippling tide
Of little words, all sweet and clear!—
Now, who so smart as Gussie dear?
for liberty, the other for a nation's glory; and “My darling—my own !” came again the low,
valiantly they fought. passionate murmur from the couch; and death
When at last the Southern army withdrew sul- in pity seemed to have lent back some of the
lenlv from the fatal field, it left behind it very strength it had been sapping. He drew her to-
many of its noblest braves. At the farthest point ward him. A moment she hesitated and casta
to which the last desperate charge had been
pushed, even among the bodies of his fallen foes,
had been found Colonel Allen, of the —— Vir
ginia regiment. Unconscious from the loss of
of twelve) tease their mama and “Auntie Bach
to tell them when papa will come back.
“Soon now, darling, mama hopes, and Annie
hides her face in the golden locks ot her young
est born, to conceal her rushing tears. She has
not seen her husband for four years. Ihe days
pass wearily on, when one day a one-armed^, one-
[For The Sunny South.]
A TALE OF GETTYSBURG.
glance at the dress she wore. He understood the
movement, and said: «
“Yes, I know. For me and my sorrows yon , legged man, clad in rusty, tattered gra} * lm P s
, g.u.c I.UWUMIUUS uuiu .wo.-, w. renounced the world. But, my darling, won’t slowly up the grand avenue where s a e y c.ir-
| blood, he had been borne to a neighboring farm- you come to me in this supreme hour, to fill my riages were wont to roll. But now the grave e^
house, which served the purpose of a hospital, soul with one draught of joy ere I go hence ? Let walks are weed-grown, while the gates ang
and there, after science had drawn upon her ut- me know that you are mine once more; it will loosely on their hinges. Fifteen years a 8°
-- - ' not be for long.” - o'God, it is too much !” and the poor old
AVhat plaintive pathos in the low, broken cripple sank down on a broken rustic bench, or
tones that even now seemed to ring of the eter- thonght had overcome him.
nal! Fifteen years ago to-day, he had ridden up
The daylight went out and left them together— this avenue, to carry off the flower of Myrtle Hall
the flowers, the soldier lay in troubled slumber. | she tightly clasped in his embrace, her cheek and crown her “wife.” Now, what had he
The room was a small one, rather detached from against his own. The moonlight stole in through brought her? Gray hairs, poverty, and shat-
the rest of the house, and had been assigned to the vines and kissed both brows with the same tered frame, while one leg and arm lay buried
the wounded officer alone. A solitary watcher j kiss. in the soil of old Virginia, enriched with the
sat beside him, and had watched with devoted Daylight came again and found them still to- blood of thousands of brave men.
assiduity all the day. So quickly she noted the getlier—still in that close embrace; at least, their “O mamma, see! who is that old man out
! groan that betokened pain; so deftly and ten- bodies were. Perhaps they had together winged
' detly her hand performed the blessed offices of their flight out into the great unknown,
her position; so full of pit}' her eye rested upon ...
| most resources in his behalf, and skill exhausted
all her labors, he awaited the coming of the end.
I It was the evening after the battle. Upon a
i couch by the open winilow, through which the
i summer breeze came laden with the breath of
BY JOHN HENRY.
Dame Rumor had ascertained beyond a doubt
that Harry Allen and Kate Walton were to be
married in a month, and, what was very remark
able, the usually captious old lady expressed her
unqualified approval of the match.
Harry was a young Virginian, who, a few years
before, had settled in Baltimore to practice law.
His had been the common lot of his fraternity;
but his good habits and strict attention to such
business as had happened to fall to him had
shortened his term of probationary obscurity,
and he was just now emerging from the common
herd into a noticeable position at the bar.
Kate was an orphan—a circumstance of itself
sufficient to awaken interest; but when in addi
tion to this, you learn that her parents had left
behind them, with their infant, a very handsome
fortune, you will not wonder, dear reader, at
the anxious solicitude with which the old folk
of the neighborhood—and young ones, too, <for
that matter—watched the fortunes of our heroine.
And yet, despite the kindly-meant but officious
assistance which all the good dames thought it
tlieir duty to render Mrs. Mavhew in the care of
the poor, pinched features, over which crept the
1 shadow of the death angel’s wing, while she told
i her beads and conned the prayers fora departing
soul. Sweet sisters of charity ! Surely, that re-
1 ligion must have much of the Master's spirit in
it, that animates you to such deeds of mercy to
others in utter forgetfulness'of self! How many
soldiers’ dying prayers beset the throne of grace
for blessings on your order!
The sister sat and watched. Just then, the
■ breeze moved aside the trellised vine that shaded
the window, and as it kissed the sleeper’s cheeks
and lifted the long, dark locks from off his tem
ple, a flood of golden light from the setting
sun streamed through the opening and bathed
his brow with its glory. The watcher started
and leaned forward. Was it some memory of
the past, half-awakened by that expression on
! the face before her, she stretched out her hand
I so eagerly to grasp ? Some phantom undefined
: thus conjured up from the world she had for-
1 saken? It could not have been long since she
j gave up that world, JV- her face was very young,
: though it bore tracts 5f much suffering; and if
i its associations still had power to move her, it
| was not strange.
(For The Sunny South.]
ANNIE. THE BUTTERFLY.
A TRIE STORY,
BY ANNABELLE B. WHITE.
“‘Till death us do part.’ That is a solemn
thought, Annie.”
“Oh! do not talk of death now !” cried the
bride of one hour, clinging to the strong arm of
the tall, grave young husband, as the carriage
rolled swiftly toward the depot.
He drew her slender form to his breast as he
said:
there?” and Annie drew her mother to the win
dow. “Ah ! now he has taken off his hat. He
must be very old, for his hair is as white as m\
dress.” . ,
A strange trembling seized the elder Annie s
heart as she approached the window; then a wild
cry burst from her lips. She threw up the win
dow and bounded down the steps.
“ It is he ! it is my darling, come at last ! and
she fairly flew toward the strange figure, sitting
so silently under the tree. “Oh, Harry ! my dar
ling ! my husband !” She hung on his neck,
sobbing with joy. With his one arm he strained
her to his heart.
“ My wife !” was all he could say.
At last they grew calmer, and he lifted up her
head.
“ Annie,” with a painful quiver of the lips,
“look up, darling, you have not seen me yet.
• Why not, darling ? Do you not realize what Can you give me so warm a welcome when I tell
a serious thing this new tie of ours is ?”
“Ah, no !” said she, with an arch look; “I
have not been a matron long enough to put on a
solemn face and talk of duties and responsibili
ties: ’ and she lifted her ripe lips with a pretty
half-pout.
He stooped and kissed those childish lips,
while a slight chill fell upon his mood
Was she
- indeed the “Butterfly ” the world pronounced
She pressed her hand upon her breast, as if . ber ■> be asked himself, as they drove on to the
to still the tumult there, and raised her eyes
to heaven; then eagerly, wistfully, she gazed
again upon his face, and her countenance as-
*** : her charge, that lady had brought her little
SCIENCE. niece safely through the periods of infancy and
childhood; and despite the petting and flatter- i surned an expression of almost agonized uncer-
Protection of Vegetables from Insects.— j ng which all rendered as their tribute to the tainty. Did the cherished image of her young
Set a tomato plant into each hill of cucumbers, pretty heiress, her aunt’s good training and her love’s dream rest beneath those bronzed, war-
melons and squashes, and they will not be own strong common sense enabled her on her beaten features and Mowing beard? Yet how
troubled by the striped bugs usually so de- , ,/ebnt at eighteen to fulfill entirely that just and torturingly alike! At®that moment, the corner
tractive to these plants. reasonable expectation of the “dear public” of a Testament protriffiing from the pocket of
Purification of Smoke.—In a factory at Men- which it had taken such assiduous pains to his coat that hung by the bed caught her eye,
ilmontaut, near Paris, a fine shower of. water, thwart.
driven up the chimney with the smoke, dissolves When, upon the occasion of her first
the impurities of the latter, and being conveyed the city, her friend Mrs. Nelson assembled
depot, where Harry had taken tickets for their
bridal trip to New York and the lakes.
Annie, the bride, was the only child of a
wealthy planter a petted darling, who had
never left the beautiful home-nest, but had been
carefully educated there by the best masters.
She had seen something of that great mystery
yclept society; for young ladies in the South
“come out” very young—some of them, in fact,
never having been “kept in.” She was greatly
into a cistern, this formerly useless refuse is col
lected and made into a superior black paint.
The Great Eastern having been recently laid
up in dock and cleaned for the first time since
18<>7, her bottom on being scraped was found to
have adhering to it three hundred tons of living
marine animals, principally mussels. Numbers
of barnacles were attached to the moving rudder,
and even the rapidly revolving propelling screw.
Experiment aor the Parlor.—Bore a small
hole in the large end of an eg;
the contents by introducing a crooked wire; tures canno t know
empty and rinse out with cold water; fasten to j The wedding was just one month off. Ther
it a fine human hair, and suspend it irom the trousseau W as well-nigh completed, the bridal
ceiling; now take a cylindrical lamp chimney, ^ r ip ] L>een planned, and the public mind was
warm it slightly and rub it briskly with^fur c>r ft in a delicious flutter of expectation. Harry had
dbe turned just the night before—returned in time
friends to meet her, Harry Allen joined in the
general buzz of admiration that greeted her en-r
tree into the drawing-room. Upon further asso
ciation with her, he thought that he detected a
warm under-current of womanliness that had
escaped the dazzled public, and his admiration
gave way to a tenderer feeling. He followed her
upon her return to the country. His wooing
prospered well; and now, after a year’s engage
ment, there had grown up between them a
, , strength of attachment, a oneness of sentiment,
and break up a sort 0 j- j,j en tity G f existence that ordinary na-
dry silk handkerchief; now hold it by the small , lnade a visit to his frioadi ia
end and try to catch the egg in the other,
egg swaying freely will be repelled, and baffle
the effort for a long time.
How Matches Came into Use.'—We remember
well when it was common to use flint, steel and
tinder to light lamps of winter mornings, and
what a cold and tedious procees it was. The
first matches that came into use were very ex
pensive. An exchange gives the history of the
change: “In 1780, Godfrey Haucknitz, in Lon
don, applied sulphur to the making of matches.
He first rubbed it between folds of brown paper
till it took fire, and it was then made to ignite a
stick, one end of which had been dipped in
sulphur. This was the earliest form of the com
mon match, such as we use to-day, but the cost
of the phosphorus prevented its being used very
largely for a long time.
A very few matches, consisting of small sticks
dipped first in sulphur and then in a compo-
rition of chlorate of potash, flower of sulphur,
gum or sugar, and cinnabar, which last colored
them red, were sold in a little box for fifteen
shillings, or nearly four dollars.
Accompanying these in the box, there was a
little bottle of sulphuric acid, into which the
match being dipped,, it was ignited by chemical
action induced between the acid and the chlorate
to spend this, the anniversary of his birthday,
with his betrothed, as she had particularly de
sired.
Surely, the sun never heralded in a brighter
day; surely, the earth never looked more beau
tiful; surely, man’s spirits were never lighter,
man’s heart never fuller than were Harry’s when
he left the suburbs of the city behind him and
sped on to Oaklawn that same September morn
ing. Perhaps it was the bracing morning ride
that gave the glow to his cheeks and brightness
to his eyes and elasticity to his tread as he sprang
up the steps of the portico to Mrs. Mayliew’s
house. Perhaps so; but then that fluttering of
the heart, dear Harry? Morning rides don’t
unsettle one’s nerves.
Oh ! those delicious moments of waiting for
her in the parlor ! The heart full of the requi
site joy of yearning; the mind reveling in the
bliss of reading of her from every object in the
room,—the books they had read together, the
pictures they had studied together, the piano,
the harp, the songs they had sung together, and
the sofa whereon they had sat through so many
happy hours—ah, well! I’ll tell no more.
A step in the hall, a hand on the door, and he
sprang from his seat to meet her, love’s light and
of potash. In 1828, Mr. John Walker, a chemist j reunion’s own gladness beaming from every fea-
in England, introduced the lucifer match, which i ture of his noble face. A\ hat a pity that disap-
on the fly-leaf,—“ Henry Allen, Colonel —
ijinia Regiment.” Then, with her clasped hands
raised above her head and falling down upon
her knees beside the couch, she uttered a prayer,
almost a wail, “Blessed Virgin, pity me !”
The cry aroused the sleeper, and he opened
his eyes upon the kneeling figure beside him.
“Thank you, sister, for your prayers. A
woman’s pleading; but”—his voice grew stronger
and a wild light drove the dull glize from his
eyes, and a flush shone through the livid hue
upon his cheeks—“ in the name of God who are
you ? Kate Walton ?”
“Yes, Kate Walton—once,” came the reply, in
a low. steady voice now.
Even as he would have struggled with death,
the prostrate man seemed to struggle for self-
-crtTiirr 1 ,!. - It* Trtls 11■ i^iA > -and tfie--fft-t,-.,
gave it to him. His voice, too, was steady, and
his countenance composed when in a few mo
ments he asked:
“ And how came you here to trouble, at its
very close, the life that you have wrecked?”
“The duties of my religion send me to the
bed-side of the suffering. You need my services,
and I am here—not as Kate Walton, but Sister
Seraphine.”
A shade of bitterness crept into his tone as he
replied:
“And Sister Seraphine hopes to wipe out, by
a few prayers, when even they come too late, the
great life-wrong that Kate Walton did me. But
forgive me, sister,” and the noble spirit seemed
ashamed; “forgive me. I thank you in my heart
for your gentle ministrations. They do atone
for much.”
“God knows the wrong that I may have done
you has been .atoned for, if sufferings and sacri
fices are noted in the court above. This garb is
the sack-cloth in which I do daily penance. It
is for your sake that I am here, though I knew
you not until just now.”
Again his emotions struggled for the mastery;
it was but a compromise with them he won this
time. Placing his poor, weak hands over his
eyes, he murmured, in a tremulous voice:
“Tell me, tell me.”
I may tell you now, Colonel Allen,” she re-
then ensnared by her witcheries, and was made
“ the happiest of men” on this eventful day in
May that we see them entering on that enchant
ing epoch of life, the honeymoon, with its con
comitant, the bridal tour.
Ah ! those happy summer days! Life was one
golden dream to these married lovers. Septem
ber came, but they were still at the North. Oc
tober was decking the forests in dun and gold
when our wanderers reached Myrtle Hall, where
“welcome home ” was arched in letters of living
green over the lofty gate, and sounded also from
a hundred dusky throats as Annie alighted from
the carriage to be clasped in her mother’s arms.
This had been their first parting for more than a
few days at a time, and the mother gazed on An
nie’s face to note the changes which she was sure
iuul 'taken plafce; but ihe same blue eyes sparkled
into hers, the same rose-bud mouth returned
her kisses, and the same fairy form danced away
from her to meet the grav-haired gentleman
coming pantingly towards them.
“ Papa—dear, dear papa !”
She was folded closely to his breast.
“My daughter!—my heart's treasure !”
There is a silence for a few moments; then
Annie runs to greet the many aunties and uncles
who crowd around her with their black faces
fairly
you I bring nothing back but old age and pov
erty ?”
“Oh. Harry, my husband, do not you bring me
yourself—that which I have been longing tor for
I four years?” leaning her cheek on his.
| His voice was choked, as he said, drawing her
so closely her sunny hair mingled with his white
locks:
“ My wife ! my sweet comforter ! It is worth
all I have gone through to meet so true a heart-
welcome.”
Little Annie had been slowly approaching,
and now she stood so near, she put out her hand
and pulled her mother’s dress gently, whisper
ing in an awe-struck tone :
“Mamma, is this my papa?”
“Yes, darling, this is papa. Harry, this is
| Annie.”
“Annie, our child? Come to me, daughter.”
But the white hair, the empty sleeve and the
wooden leg repelled her, and she faltered:
“ You are not my papa. My papa has not got
white hair, and he has two arms like Buddie, for
Auntie Bach said so.”
Annie’s mouth quivered, but she said:
“Come here, darling. This is papa; don’t
you see how mamma loves him?” ami she kissed
Harry’s pale brow, whose features worked with
pain, as he said:
“Even my own children shun me.”
Little Annie came up and look his one hand
gently in her two dimpled ones.
“Don’t cry; it will make mamma cry, and she
has cried so much. I’ll take you for my papa,”
looking up with a sweet smile.
He stooped and kissed her, then said to his
wife:
“And our boy—where is he?”
Annie’s eyes tilled as she said, hesitatingly:
“Our child? Oh! Harry, I—I—he is—plow
ing-” i
Harry fell back.
“Plowing ! my boy—my baby ! It is too hard !”
and he passed his thin hand across his brow,
while a moan struggled up from his heart. Ah !
how it hurt to think his son, the heir of all these
broad but worthless lands, should be compelled
to toil for his scanty daily bread.
“ Darling, do not give way thus. It is God’s
will, and we should submit cheerfully.” And
Annie passed her slender fingers through his
white hair; then, turning
aninnies roll about on the grass, turning som
ersaults and standing on their wooly pates with
joy, shouting:
“Miss Annie done come, an’ dere will be high
old times now for weeks to come.”
Well, the happy days fled all too soon. Never
had Annie passed a merrier winter, and never
had she seemed more gay and thoughtless.
“The ‘Butterfly’ still!” said Annie’s friends, j
shaking their wise heads, as they watched her !
laughing face and light, dancing figure—lov- j
ingly, in spite of their fault-finding.
But the sunshine was soon to be eclipsed for j
the “Butterfly.” In the spring, when his grand !
home was glorious with bloom and beauty, Col.
Hunter. Annie’s father, laid down life’s cares j
and passed over peacefully to the other side of ;
the river. That summer was a sad one to the
« - , -i ,, , T, i - - , inmates of Myrtle Hall, and grief pressed on
was lighted by drawing it rapidly over a sheet of pomtment s shadow should darken them ! It plied, and again her soul was lifted up in j be devoted wife’s heart so heavily that she. too,
sandpaper. From this time on, the steps of im- | was the servant, and she tendered him a little prayer, “ for 1 am no longer a being of the world j a jd down the burden of life,
provement were many, and now we have nothing note upon a waiter. A great knot rose in his j n which we once loved, and you are scarcely of Qj d Christmas wooed in vain for the merry
in our houses more useful, more convenient and
more inexpensive than the match.
Use of Mineral Poisons by Farmers.—John
L. Le Conte, M. D., at the meeting last week in
Philadelphia of the Medical Academy of Nat
ural Sciences, presented vigorous objection to
the use of Paris green for destroying insects in
jurious to agriculture. After remarking that it is
“the duty of the members of the Academy to their
fellow-citizens to give such salutary warnings as
serve to protect them against injurious practices
introduced under the garb of science,” Dr. Le
Conte continued: “Paris or Scliweinfurth green
is a mixture of arsenic and acetate of copper,
and in the result of certain empirical experi
ments has been recommended as destructive of
the Colorado potato beetle, and, in fact, as a
universal remedy against injurious insects which
appear in masses. Now arsenic and copper are
poisons which act with equal energy upon plants
and animals. The materials, though diffused
upon the leaves of the plants to be protected,
throat. Was she ill? He could not ask 'the
question, his heart beat so. He stretched forth
his hand and took the note. And while the knot
sank out of his throat, and his heart stood still'
in his bosom, and the light fled out of his life,
he read:
“ Mr. Allen,—It is best we should not meet
again. Your letters, photographs, etc., I will
send by mail. You will please return mine as
early as practicable. Kate Walton.”
And that was all. Brief, but to the purpose.
It broke his bright dream.
I wot 1
bloodless
heart
out
nizing.
pass his hands across his eyes as if to brush
away the darkness that gathered before him, then
press them to his temples and stagger to a seat.
I don’t know if she stayed so Ion
for when the
first stunned feeling passed away and he looked
, . ,. . t - ... , up for her to send to her mistress an entreaty
which are incapable of absorbing it, are speedily for some explanation, an interview, she was gone,
carried into the soil, and if used annually it is , And then ^ knew that she bad been • • 8 - -
only a matter of time how many years will elapse and no explanation was intended for him
the conviction that his great heart had
fled with settled down upon his mind; and then
listening with joy, while numerous pic-' white fiair; men, turning to the little girl stand-
- - ing mournfully near, she said:
“Bun and tell brother to come and see papa.’
Annie flew to do her mother’s bidding, and
presently a firmly built but slender boy pre
sented himself with glowing cheeks and spark
ling brown eyes.
“ My father !”
“ My son !”
That was all; but two more thankful hearts did
not beat in all Christendom.
“Toil, you see, has made a man of our boy,”
Annie said, as they all rose to go in.
“He certainly lias developed rapidly. But,
Annie, I cannot let it go on. He must be edu
cated. ”
“But how?”
The children were walking before, and did not
hear the conversation.
“If possible,” replied Harry, “Imust rent the
plantation, and remove to town. I have learned
there are very good public schools in A ,” a
_ _ _ shadow flitting across his brow at the thought of
it. I need not repeat the vows that I so otten | (jm es be was wont to see in the lofty rooms of j being able to give his son a collegiate edu
cation. “I,” he added, “can practice my pro
fession.”
“And what shall I do?” softly inquired his
wife.
“You have toiled enough in the last four
years; you must rest.”
She shook her head.
“The past four years have but fitted me for
work. I could not live in idleness.”
So it was settled. The plantation was rented
Myrtle Hall once more had an ®ot, and tbe fam ’ :l J moved to city of A ,
- from the i where Henry and Annie were both put to school.
r, the father did not succeed. Daily
grew feebler, and he was, perforce,
see his loving, faithful and unselfish
3 „ ., , „ proud father who owned those j wue go out into the hard world and win their
phatic terms that the matter admitted ot no sblves tb g ]i tt ] e i ord gave p] ace , on his ' bread witn her own tender hands. This made
doubt.’ fourth birtli-day, to a miniature.Annie, who soon the burden of life heavier for Harry to bear. At
“And you believed that of me, Colonel Allen bec ame the pet of all ; tbe end ot 11 year, he was lying on his death-bed.
groaned, as he turned his face from the narrator. Wben litt i e Annie’s blue eyes gazed on her 0ue day, 11 / said: .
“ I could not hesitate. 1 hey were matters into fourth natal day, dark mutterings were heard, “‘Till death us do part. Ah. darling, how
which I could make no inquiry. I had confi- and tbe „ atheri l war-clouds threatened to burst trnt - how true and faithful you have been till
made you, for in your heart you know that they
were true.”
The soldier made a troubled movement, but
spoke not. She continued:
“My life was wrapped in yours, and I was
happy in the expectation of being your bride.
But ah!” a shiver ran through her frame,
“heaven denied us that bliss. The night before
your last visit to Oaklawn—the night of your re
turn from Virginia—I received a letter from my
cousin, living in your native town, recounting a
Annie’s home. Death held grim sway there, and
the pleasant chamber, that usually welcomed
' Christmas with wreaths of waxy mistletoe and i
festoons of scarlet-berried holly, now held mourn-
I ing badges for the dear mother and mistress,
j “not lost, but gone before.”
Annie and her husband settled quietly in the
large house, and after two years, the gloomy pall '
of mourning was lifted from the young wife’s j
brow, and she was crowned with the holy name
of “mother.”
before the soil is poisoned so as to prevent the
growth of all vegetation. The chemical possi- ; fled witb settled, down upon his mind; and then j to denounce the perpetrator of such a crime, and
g-wx-M -1 Wd-OR! s o cold, „ ,%f u T»r. lind ind name so stained. The
I b “!' ! . J pleadings of love but aggravated me and
. - -. - - I solemnly protest It was another man who, with firm step and j strengthened mv determination. And yet—and
against the loose manner in which, simply on p roud m i e n, strode from the house and mounted V et, oh ! that night of suffering ! In the morn-
the recommendation of those who have observed f be buggy and drove witb slow> dignified pace Q v OU came and I acted.”
only the effects of those poisons upon the insect down tbe avenue to the road. Yes, it was an- T be sister bowed her head upon her lap, and
pests to which their attention has been directed, otber man Harry felt it> and thanked God for sobs i8ue d thence,
a dangerous material has been placed in the , t be nerve to hide what his other self had been,
trembling . _
fingers, bidding him “God-speed” as he rode not now leave you in such poverty,’ and a deep
forth at the head of a small band of determined ! 81 8 b escaped him.
Oh, those dreary, awful years that followed !
Annie’s slender hands worked rapidly for her
loved one fighting so desperately for a forlorn
hope. The splendid rooms were bereft of their ;
rich carpets to make blankets for the scantily-
She laid her throbbing hand on his lips as she
answered:
“ Hush, my husband, it is God’s decree. We
will not murmur,” and she stroked back the
snowy hair.
^ ^ On the morrow he died.
handsof a targe cto of men. The j I b.llZd Kjk to STSil!! 1 .^ & “wilhoM WMta ‘ A
Dmafactnre of this poison has increased to a fear- | f,j m . The otde »l through which he h.d hee» voice, he added, - Go od.'” j togl, dTi oi?v‘Tep“ . £«“rff of the I Hud' «hd lieh reiotive hod token them «n?t put
“Too late I learned how unjust was the judg- i luxuries to which she had never, until now, been them in college, promising to be a father to them,
ment that had been passed upon you. Months j a stranger; tear up her splendid carpets, sell her Harry and Annie eagerly embraced their oppor-
afterward, it transpired that my cousin, who had rich jewels, wear homespun dresses, and give ; tunities, and are now two shining lights. Harry
learned your connection with mein an indefinite j up her thorough-bred horses tor the use of the ls a lawyer ot great abilities and unparalleled
and indirect manner, had confounded you with | cavalry. success, while Annie, with her graceful and bril-
a dissolute cousin of yours, who, it seems, was a i * * * * * * “ ~ ~ ‘ ’
o lawyer in Philadelphia and bore your family! The years go by. Annie sits alone in her large,
girded himself and gone forth, and for three 1 name. I cannot tell you—only a wronged woman lonely^ house, wishing and longing. That brave , - -
years held high carnival in the land. Backward can know what I suffered when the discovery was j heart is beating warmly for the absent one who j home to meet tbe one to whom she had been a
and forward across the border that separated the ! made. You had left Maryland and was then, I ; comes not. The large plantations are grown up “’. ue ’ * a | and *°' ,ri o wde “ till death them
disaffected States from the others, had rolled the : learned, an officer in the Southern army. \et I j in brown straw, with a few poor mules grazing ! dld P ar t- 111
crimson tide; and now one billow, stronger and hoped until at last the news came that you had j forlornly about, while the large house and negro
ful extent. A friend residing in one of the great ca ]] ed p aK8 was a terrible one, but it was over
agricultural centres of the West writes that the j now \s he pursued his quiet way homeward,
druggists of his town order it by the ton. The ; no weak rep i n i n gs for what had been harassed
ravages of the Colorado potato beetle, which has j b j g breas t
been the chief cause of the use of Paris green j
in agriculture, commenced in the West many «***«**
years ago, and its extension at a regular rate was j The years had come and gone, and sad tales
predicted by entomologists. The prediction has j were told of them. The god of war had arisen,
been verified almost to a year. Now it was within
the power of the government, through a prop
erly organized scientific bureau for the protec
tion of agriculture, to have the subject investi
gated by a committee, and recommend proper
measures to be adopted. The use of metallic
poisons would not be one of them, but human
labor, properly compensated and intelligently
employed, might have been one of the agents
1 employed to avert a national calamity such as
‘has come upon us.
liant pen, has drawn an admiring world around
her. Their mother thanks God for two such
treasures, and patiently waits her summons
higher than the rest, had surged against the
heights of Gettysburg, and towering for a space
of dread uncertainty upon the very topmost
mount, had broken its fury and receded to the
land whence the storm had driven it. Long and
doubtful had been the fight. One host fought
fallen in battle. Then my life became all dark- quarters wear a mournful, deserted look. Of the
ness, and I prayed that God would take me too j quandam slaves, but one (Annie’s old nurse) re-
to join you, where all would be plain and you ! mains faithful to her; the rest have made a grand
would know that, however my judgment had rush for “ freedom. ” Poor creatures! how much
been led astray, my heart had ever been true to j better off are they now?
you.” j Little Annie and Harry (who is now a fine boy j
I told her that I loved her,
And her cheek was all abeam
With modest maiden blushes,
As when the sunlight Hushes
The distant Orient border;
But—I told it in a dream.
■
mm