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W AITING THE HARVEST.
V MBS. LOl'. S. BEOrOKD.
J r the Morning Nate.
;* finds me sad and lone,
ever with anxious rare,
■i earth I ran call my own,
I fear lew treasures Tkeke.
i i.>np in my silent way
,|omv appointed I el,
rmv ‘work to-day,
‘ . n0 ! -u. has 1 could ask.
, ~[ in a quiet -{’here,
~7.[ -in ii I was given to till,
• - meagre, rear by year,
. - I've ' ecu standing still;
: . ~w from mv little Held
‘ ‘ -r un In*- tcen gathered tn;
* hat it will yield
ri’-utavet for tiie heavenly bin.
, . te u .’r-cemany a weed
• is jrr-wmg there,
'■ e riicmv planted the seed
' .
Clin t • fr*ni the soil,
, t l . v a-- ' -tr t - r er grown,
r v: taking are nmr i ; lamia,
•* a? ~ , :, , ■ yr- in \Stin.
I tri>* x i me,
Ai. -- 1 " ‘‘ r \ r ;* ! ! jj ‘ iVu -• vibes shall
- •
V , * grant! “Harvest
• trred tiu aeld with me
~ , aded from labor to rest,
‘'l have s..mtunts ionged toaee
- sun n town in the west:
>... ; with mv lot to-day,
. . t wait the Ta-kaiaster’s will;
■ , r hit- proved a toilsome way,
i . • i t might have bee.l harder still.
l r -n is drawing near its close
iv,. for the field is growing white,
glimpse of promise 1 repose.
.• . : • westen Gatenof Light;
v ;,ic waiting the Master’s commands
i tilt field where I’ve toiled so long,
, _ Home, I shall fold my bands
\ ;u the Trailer’s Harvest Bong.
. n. irMilten, Fla., July, JGi.
JllorntUQ Mnuo Srvtalo.
THE CREOLE OF GIENSiDE *
B Y MB S. JAM E S II IN E.
CHAPTER VI.
The following morning proved to be a
lib; at and beautiful one, and the party,
f•.:I of pleasant anticipations, prepared
. ■- tor the day’s excursion.
,1 .itn ran ford said to Carrie: “Anil so
. are going in the gig w ith l)r. Morris.
V must mind ami not let those ponies
ruu away with you.”
■V . ti.td better speak to him, if you
... x any caution is necessary,” replied
tame: “7 have no idea of driving.’’
>i . Iton said: “Miss Julia only in
, -h. put you on your guard, lest you
.. ! make yourself so attractive as to
cl.rl lii- mind from the ponies he is to
i. V. The Doctor has seemed very
- '-inii'iled for the last few days, ’he
;: i..! significantly.
■ id- tell over Carrie’s soft blue eyes
in o color mounted to her cheek,
. •••..101 not but understand what
i' '.< king to imply, ."he only
.at Dr. Morris, who was chatting
Mi - Bessie, did not hear the con
v iti ii. in a few minutes more he
■ r.d led her to the gig, which was
t .re sai l to him, as he went out:
‘•M.iiama has given Cudjo special orders
immediately behind you, so that
!’ tii ponies become restive or unman
f you have only toeail on him. He
•tin m and understands them thor
. ;.iy. and they know his voice and will
h.iu when they heed no one else.
M..i mi says she would not trust them
n ev n one’s hands, but she knows you
• be a good driver. They are apt to be
troublesome in a crowd. I rode after
them once to chureiL when the carriage
was broken, and 1 was obliged to go in the
bi-. and Cudjo drove me, too; but they
reared and pitched and behaved so badly
when we were about leaving the church
h r that I was half terrified out of my
life. If 1 could have gotten out 1 should
have claimed Rosa’s horse and saddle and
made her take my seat, but Cudjo would
not let me get out. He said: ’You be sure
tor break vuur neck, Miss, ef yer try.* 1
sat still iu terror, until at length he got
them soothed down.”
Frank had decided that he preferred
g ing on horseback to riding in a carriage
with two or-three ladies, whom he would
io bound to entertain, particularly in his
present moody humor.
They vv. re ail soon en route, and on ar
nv.i.: at .‘tan Noir found a large party
i . .eh assembled there.
I rank soon made an opportunity to
! ■ w Clare away from the gay crowd
w ..ich surrounded her to a spot where he
. i * i._r- -s her whole attention some
hi- distance from the rest, where he had
is t ; ; ired for her, composed of car
n .. e .saions, arranged under the wide
s: ib branches ol a splendid old live*
- -.freely knew how to approach her
u ...t subject nearest his heart, but he
a.-.,! i -olvcd that he would do so on that
\ ibiv. When he planned this visit to
G; idale it was with the full design of
■ .V :i - him>t'lf to her, and so confident
-. • : success that not a doubt rested
i ■ a ms mind, but that he would return
hi . • pled lover; but he had felt un
..-•ii the subject almost ever siuce
. . and the feeling grew upon him
.! • day. She treated him always so
. ' and affectionately; he would
- pn i rred Tier being more reserved;
tiieti wh n they were atone together,
..di • always seemed to avoid if pos
!e. - ■ was so very shy and distant;
, t ■ • .■ iivii all this, the fear that Mr.
L Vcrrier was bis rival had taken pos
s - -ion of him.
f. y sat some time in silence, when
. ...nk, woo had thrown himself on the
id iR-foredier, said, abruptly:
• • hue. J want you to tell uie the truth
u Arthur Ia Verrier.”
v. :.at am I to tell, Frank? lam sure
,n i iv \ :' little about him,” was her
’ll a. f .oil love him: if he has of
i :i. -elf to you, anil it he has been
ice- I'ttiir’
••1 only knew him three days, Frank; it
v ! c very strange in kini to offer him
-elt to me on so short an acquaintance.
: in me to sjccept him if ho did. What
id have pul such an idea in your
"He took or so about his visit in the
. try on his return to New Or’eans that
L - irknds very naturally concluded that
there must be u lady in the case, and they
when he was accused of it he did not
;:y it. Knowing as I did how attentive
ht [..ul Seen to Miss Janie Thompson
while >tie was iu the city, I took it for
granted that she was the one of whom he
- Okamoredy but Miss Thompson
tees me sho was away visiting a friend in
parish while he was here, and did
a : - . him at all, and I ju9t expect he
-as stole*n your heesrt from me.”
"I did not know it ever belonged to you,
Frank.”
"Xu. n you admit that he has got it?”
“I admit no such thing.”
hire, dear Clare,” he said, in an im
passioned manner, “how can you talk to
Qt so coolly? My love for you pervades
every fibre of my being; your name is
written on every pulsation of my throb
f‘*ng heart; trom my childhood to this
h . the future had never presented to me
&u -iii of hope or joy of which your image
did not form a part. It has stood in the
foreg.ound of every picture; it has been
the loveliest, most attractive and beauti
ful object m my foreshadowing of future
happiness, ut i i n fancy its radiance has
dispelled :.ae clouds from every scene of
sorrow or iff grief, which my ’judgment
teaches me t shall have to bear in common
with my kind. 1 want your lave, dear
C.are. I want your promise that you will
be my bride—my irife; that you will place
your happiness in my keeping, and give
me the right to watch over vou in sick
ness and in health—until death us do
part—and never shall you repent the
u-ust. I swear by everything sacred and
dear that my life shall have no higher aim,
aside from its obligations to its Maker,
.uan to watch over your happiness and
your well-being.”
.Clare sat, awe-struck and silent, before
tae o’ennastering passion which svas
swaying trank’s nature, which could he
livened only to the storm bending the
mighty oak with its resistless power. The
tears were coursing each other down her
cheeks and falling unheeded upon her
dress. She dreaded to speak, for she had
no words of comfort to give; yet he
paused for a reply, and tremblingly she
attempted answering him.
“Tou forget. Frank, that we are already
connected by the ties of blood,” tenderly
=he answered him, “and the marriage tie
between you and I would be, to say the
least, a most undesirable relation.”
* Bring not tfiat up against me,” he
said, pleadingly; “hundreds have disre
garded it before us, and why should not
we?”
’Entered acconling to act of Congress in the
Tear ISS4 by J. H. tstill. in the office of the
—airman ol Congress at Washington.
“Well, putting that aside, then, there
are other reasons, stronger if you choose.
Vou know I love you, Frank—no brother
could be dearer. God raised you up to
till to me the place of one in denying to me
that blessed tie, but you must not ask me to
assume a dearer relationship. I bear no
such love for you as would justify me iu
it. Let me be to you a sister, as of old,
and seek one to be your wife who will fill
the place more worthily than I could pos
sibly do.”
Frank urged his plea by every argument
he could command, but Clare was inflexi
ble. He begged that the matter might be
referred to her mother. She told him it
would be useless for him to apply to her, as
she knew her own heart, and it would be
folly to give publicity to the affair; better
that it should rest between themselves
and never be spoken of again.
Then Frank returned to the old charge
—that she loved Mr. Le Verrier, and that
was why he had been rejected.
Again and again she assured Frank that
no one could take liis place in her heart,
for she had never borne for him any love
but such as one cousin might bear for an
other. They remained long together,
Frank unwilling to listen to her fre
quent petitions to return to the rest of the
company until she had given him some
encouragement to hope. She did not hold
out any whatever—still he hung a hope
upon the fact that she was not otherwise
engagtd.
To the rest of the party the day passed
off pleasantly, and they remained so long
together that the moonbeam’s mellow
light shone on their homeward route.
The next day the guests left for their
respective homes, except Mr. Houghton,
who anticipated their departure with
pleasure, hoping that he would be able to
make a stronger impression upon Clare
when they should be left more to them
selves. He had Insisted upon impart
ing his wishes to Mrs. Uonfleur, and had
besought her intercessions on his behalf,
but she frankly told him that she consid
ered their present relationship an imjera
tive bar to any nearer one; and that
besides she trusted her daughter
would never do violence to her own
nature by marrying an> man to whom she
could not give an undivided heart. She
appealed to himself as to whether he
would willingly accept her when sue toid
him she did not love Him.
He said he would win her love if she
would only give him an opportunity, that
lie would so devote himself to her that she
could not help but reciprocate his feel
ings. *
Observation has taught me,” said Mrs.
Hor.fleur, “that tft'it is dangerous ground
to form a connection upon. The sacred
institution ot marriage, so beautiful
as it came from the hands of
the Divine Author, so prostituted
as we have seen it a thousand times,
involves us iu new duties, new cares and
sorrows, as well as new pleasuris. Dis
eoroant dispositions must be harcioaized.
This often proves to le no trifling affair,
and ne* ds, either on one side or the ot her,
and generally on both, an exercise of
patience and forbearance, which can only
i-e the fruit of love. Then nothing else but
love can sustain the parties in the diffi
culties and perplexities which are con
stantly arising in the internal manage
ment of domestic affairs, the training of a
family, the controling of the servants, and
ali the complications which arc brought
to bear upon the happiness of the home.
Each must bear and forbear, and labor
an.s strive for the happiness of the other,
as rone can do who are not thoroughly
devoted to each other. You think now,
Frank, that all your hopes on earth are
involved in this matter; but, unless I am
mistaken, this will proye but a child-love
you have been nursing, which will pale
before that master-passion which will one
day control you—when the stronger emo
tions of manhci and shall take possession of
you.”
Frank remained another week, but the
charm of his visit was over, and, restless
and dissatisfied, he returned to the city to
make preparations for resuming his
studies.
Clare had never mentioned the subject
of his proposals to Janie Thompson, but
she shrewdly suspected the state ot
things, and did not rest until she found
out that iie had proposed and been reject
ed. which knowledge she acquired in a
most disgraceful manner.
Miss Janie’s maid. Flora, was not pure
ly African, but what was called in the
parlance of the country a quadroon.
Having so large a portion of white blood
in her, she wasj as this class always are,
far superior to her own race in intelli
gence. She was the confidant and friend
of her mistress, and always ready to act
for her in any schemes or plans which she
might desire to accomplish. Janie told
Flora, when she returned home from the
fishing party, that she thought Master
Frank had proposed to flare, and she
wished her to find out whether he had or
iu>t.
“Y'ou will not be able to find out any
thing through the servants,” said Janie,
“for Clare will never let them know any
thing about it, aud you must set your
wits to work to gain the knowledge 1
want.”
Flora immediately set about acting the
spv, as she had done on many a previous
occasion, and, in order to ascertain what
was going on. concealed herselt in the
shrubbery at the end of the house on the
following evening, and listened to the
conversation between F’rank and Mrs.
Honfleur and Clare. She heard Frank
urge his suit with Mrs. Honfleur and her
reply, and became fully posted with re
gard to their affairs. They sat until a late
hour that night, and she was kept in her
uncomfortable position until they sepa
rated. fearing to move lest she should be
discovered, though she had gained all the
knowledge she wanted early in the even
ing.
When she returned to her mistress, she
made a full report. The friendship be
tween Clare and Miss Janie had some
what cooled. Clare had seen so much of
her while Frank was at Glenside, and so
much to disapprove, her character having
opened before her as it had never done
before, that she had lost her respeet for
her in a great measure. Meantime Carrie
Cochrane had grown iu her good graces,
appearing more and more lovely to her
the more she knew of her, and when she
wearied ot her needle, her books and her
pen, her pencil, flowers and birds, and
longed for companionship, she turned
oftener to Mrs. Cochrane’s house for it
than to Airs. Thompson’s.
CHAPTER VII.
“Life hath as many greetings as it hath 6unn>
hours.
Ami over some are scattered thorns and ov.er
others flowers.”
One evening some three weeks after
Frank’s departure Clare begged her
mother to accompany her to Mrs. Coch
rane’s. They rode up together, and re
ceived a hospitable welcome from Mrs.
Cochrane anu Carrie, who came out to
meet them.
Mr. Cochrane had been attending to Mr.
Houghton’s business for many years, and,
by prudent management and industry,
had acquired a comfortable competency.
He had negroes enough to have set up an
independent establishment on a small
scale, but Mr. Houghton was so unwilling
to part with him, and he had such a com
fortable home and his servants could
work to just as good advantage where
they were, he receiving a portion of the
crop lor their services, he still remained.
Thev were living in the house which
Mr. riaushton had built for himself and
lived in for awhile, but his wife disliked
the country, and, to please her, he had
moved to 'the city. The house was ele
gant and spacious, so much so that they
did not oceupy the half of it.
It was neatly but plainly furnished, and
everything about it wore an air of com
fort.* Mrs. Cochrane was a model house
keeper and noted all the country around
for home-made wines, fine preserves and
jellies, cakes, custards and creams. She
was noted also for large benevolence,which
manifested itself in kindly offices to the
sick, both near and remote. Though she
devoted very little time to social visiting,
vet if there were any sick in the neighbor
hood, she was ever the first to minister to
their wants and, with unselfish kindness,
to perform, either day or night, the office
of a nurse.
-‘I am so glad to see you,” she said, cor
dially welcoming her friends; “it is so
long* since you nave been here, but for
Clare and Carrie we should live in utter
ignorance of each other’s well-being.”
“I am always resolving,” replied Mrs.
Honfleur, “to be a better neighbor, but
somehow I do not seem to accomplish my
purpose, though 1 think Clare aoes her
share of the visiting and mine, too.”
“We are alwars glad when we see Miss
Clare coming. Her presence spreads sun
shine wherever she goes, she is so full of
merry laugh and chat, though she does
not seem to be in as good spirits of late as
she used to be. 1 nave been telling her
she must have lost her heart.”
“Wo, I think not,” said her mother.
“We have had a house full of company,
and the young people held high carnival
for awhile, and now, that things have re
sumed their old channel. has
taken place. Does not feel some
thing of it, too? She in their
gayeties." \
“I do not notice any changftn her,” re
plied Mrs. Cochrane; “she goes singing
TIIE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 1884.
about the house, as usual. I keep her sc,
busy she doe 6 not often find time for low
spirits though I accuse her ot having
fallen in love, too, but she denies it. Any
way, there is a doctor’s gig so often at our
gate that I tell her I am sure the neigh
bors will think there is some chronic sick
ness in the family.”
“Why, mother, I am surprised at you
for talking 60,” said Carrie, who had risen
with Clare to leave the room. They were
going off to themselves, where they could
talk over their own affairs more freely.
Carrie had confided to Clare the
whole story of her attachment io Dr.
Morris, who had now proposed to
her and been accepted, but had not yet
asked consent of her parents. She was
enthusiastic iu his praises, and her young
heart was full ot bright and happy hopes.
They talked together long and earnest
ly, and Clare was called to go twice by
her mother before she responded.
After their adieux had been said and
she and her mother were at the carriage
and about entering it, a gentleman rode
up to the house who prove to be Mr. Le
Verrier. He alighted from his horse and,’
after speaking w ith Mrs. Cochrane, w alk
ed up and shook banue with them in the
most cordial manner. He said he had
only been back from Paris about a fort
night, and had come into the country for
a few weeks’ hunting and fishing. Air.
II aught on hud tendered to him the use of
his lodge, aud he anticipated a great deal
ot pleasure.
Airs. Honflpur gave him a very cordial
invitation to spend a part of his time with
her, which, he said, it would hive him
pleasure to do. and they drove off.
When Air. Houghton gave up his house
to Air. Cochrane he reserved to himself
one wing of it, containing four rooms, for
a hunting lodge. These he kept furnished,
and sometimes occupied them when he
came into the country, though he oftener
staid with his sister when ’he came—in
deed, always—unless he brought sports
men up with him, who preferred the free
dom of a lodge.
How ditlerent were the feelings of Clare
when she returned home from what they
were when she left it. She had seen Mr.
Le Verrier once more. He appeared more
fascinating to her than ever. He w*as
certainly far superior in manners and ap
pearance to anyone she had ever met. She
had an intuitive sense that his object in
coming was to sec her, and her spirits,
over which the cloud of Frank’s disap
imintment hud brooded, were once more
twioj ant as ever. Then she questioned
herself as to how soon she would be likely
to see him again. He would hardly come
around this evening; it was too late, and
he was probably travel-soiled and weary.
To-morrow would be the Sabbath. She
supposed he would not be likely to come
on tuat day, aud if he did she would be
at church all day. She tried to satisfy
herself with the thought that she would be
eei taiu to sec him on Aionday.
Some two hours afterwards, while Mrs.
Honfleur and Clare were at the table in
the tea-room, a servant announced Mr.
Le Verrier.
Mrs. Honfleur looked surprised, but im
mediately said to the servant:
“Ask him in.” and as he entered she
welcomed him by saying: “I doubt if
your bachelor establishment furnished
you as good a cup of tea as 1 can offer.
Come in and make yourself at home with
us by joining in our repast.”
“Thanks. 1 would gladly join you in
this social meal,” he replied, his paleface
beaming with pleasure at his cordial wel
come, “but Mrs. Cochrane sent my supper
in to me, and 1 do not think even your tea
can surpass hers. Tea is a favorite bev
erage with my mother, and of late has be
come so to me; aud I am not only fastidi
ous as the quality of it, but also as to the
way in which it is prepared,” he con
tinued, as he seated himself in the chair
offered. “Our tea at home is the meal
w hich we enjoy above all others. There
is something social and cheering in table
intercourse, and particularly so in
the evening meal, when the cares
and duties of the day are all over.
Mother and 1, at perfect leisure, then al
-1 ways have so much to tell each other of
what has transpired in our different cir
cles, and in order that our conversation
may be free and unrestrained, it has long
been a custom of mother’s to dismiss the
sen ants as soon as possible, while %ve sit
perhaps for hours over our teh.”
“Your mother must have missed you
6orelv while vou were so far from her,”
said Mrs. Honfleur.
“Yes. But 1 think not more than I did
her. I saw so many things I wanted her
to see that she was continually In my
thoughts. We were both very happy on
my return at being ODce more together.”
"How were you pleased with your trip
to Paris?” inquired Airs. Honfleur.
“Very much; I could not well have
! been otherwise. I have relatives there,
who did everything in their power to
make it agreeable, aud, as I was never
there but once before, and then only for a
brief period, which was wholly devoted
to business, everything was new to me,
and there was s’o much that was fasci
nating, though l confess l went very
reluctantly. I tried my best to get Air.
Houghton to go instead of me. I told him
as liis wife was there, that ought of itself
to induce, him to go. He thought other
wise. Htf has a great dislike for and,
indeed, dread of the sea.”
“And is a dear lover of his own home!”
remarked his sister. “1 suppose Airs.
Houghton did not return with you.”
“No. .''be is carried away with the gay
! eties of Paris life, w hich are irresistible to
her.”
“Mr. Uonfleur was very anxious for me
to go to France during bis lifetime,” said
Airs. Honfleur, “and if he had been spared
to me longer, I should have gone with
him, but I shall never go now,” she said
sadly.
“Please take that back, mamma,” said
Clare; “you know how much l wish to
go. I hope you will go with me some
day.”
“1 shall have to get someone else to
matronize you, or else you will have to
wait until you can matronize yourself. I
could not go so far from the hallowed
grave, v. Inch makes this dace so dear, i
should be very loth to die w hen I thought
my ashes would not rest by the side of
those I love so well and have watched over
for so many years with such holy trust
that they would rise side by side with
mine in the morning of the resurrection.”
Air. Le Verrier, seeing the melan
choly dritt of the conversation, tried to
divert her mind by saying, “I am sure
Aliss Clare would be delighted to go to
Paris; there are so many objects of inter
est there, so many works of art, rare and
magnificent pictures and statues, and
everything that is curious aud beautiful.
One’who has visited Paris, its public,
buildings and gardens, its galleries and
workshops, its salons and bazars, its
streets and its shops, is ready to conclude
that art and science has attained its high
est degree of perfection, and that there is
nothing lett for human ingenuity to invent
or human art to accomplish. What real
pleasure it would give me,” he said, turn
ing to Clare, “to introduce .Miss Honfleur
to the many wonders in art and nature,
which her keen sense ot the beautiful
would enable her to appreciate and en
joy.”
Mr. Le Verrier went on descanting on
different things which had interested him
while abroad, until both he and his lis
teners were astonished at hearing the little
French clock on the mantel strike the hour
of twelve.
They all started with surprise. They
little deemed the hours had passed so
rapidly.
He said as he rose to leave:
“I know I have kept you up for an un
reasonable length of time, and it is Satur
day night, too; but you must excuse me,
and attribute it to your own fascinations.
I seldom sit up so late as this even in the
city. But 1 must not leave without ask
ing what 1 came purposely to find out. At
what church you worship, and if I may
have the pleasure of accompanying you
to-morrow ?”
“I have a cbapel on my place, and a
chaplain employed who preaches to my
negroes every Sunday. I generally at
tend there, for I think it makes the ser
vants more particular about being present
themselves. There are some pews appro
priated to the white people, and we have
some indigent white neighbors who
have no means of riding to church who
always come here because it is in walking
distance; but there are two Sundays in
the month that we have service in a
church edifice six miles from us, and the
other two Sundays even farther off than
that, and Clare generally goes either to
the one or the other. Either she or I
would be pleased to have your company.
Y'ou will find that we have very rustic
looking church edifices here, and those
who officiate in them are not men of much
talent, but we never sutler oursel#s to
neglect the command to keep holy the
Sabbath dav by absenting ourselves irom
the place of praver. We have every rea
son to believe that the vows we offer in
the ear of the Holiest are equally ac
ceptable whether they ascend from within
the enclosure of unhewn logs, or are made
vocal in frescoed walls or reverberate
through vaulted ceilings.”
YVas it only a fancy of Clare’s? or did
Air. Lo Verrier hold her hand lingeringly
and press it as if unwilling to relinvuish
it when he parted irom her? Anyway, the
touch of his Angers sent the blood ting
ling through her veins, and she thought
she could still feel that gentle pressure
for hours afterwards. It was hard for her
to go to sleep that night—her thoughts
were too full of him. Did he love her?
Did he come here to seek her ? Aye! did
he not? and was not every word he ad
dressed to her replete with tenderness?
Were not his very eyes sparkling with the
light of love ? and to be the object of the
love of such a heart it was almost too
much to dare to hope for.
CHAPTER VIII.
“Thii, holy morniug, Lord, is thine,
Let feilence sanctify thy praise;
Let heaven and earth in love combine.
And morning stars their music raise.”
The morning of the Sabbath was bright
and beautiful. Never before had Clare
felt so much interest in her personal ap
pearance.
As 6lie opened the wardrobe to take out
a dress to put on—a most unusual thing
for her, for she generally left the details
ot the toilet entirely with Rosa, her maid.
“What for you lookin’, mis. I done bin
put out vour clothes.”
“1 believe I will wear a silk dress to
day,” said Clare. *
“La, mis! he der 100 hot,” was her re
ply. “De white frock suit much better.”
“1 am tired of white,” she said, as she
took down the dress she had selected,
“and it is not very warm to-day.”
Rosa selected the rest of her attire to
suit the dress, feeling somewhat pro
voked that her arrangements had been in
terfered with, and delayed the toilet oper
ations as much as possible, much to Clare’s
chagrin, though she bore it in silence,
knowing if she’utteredany remonstrances
it would only make the matter worse.
She had intended being down stairs to
greet Air. Le Verrier when he came, but
he bad been there some little time when
she made her appearance.
He welcomed her gladly, and, as it was
time for their departure to church, he
said:
“Shall I ride on horseback by your car
riage, or may I have a seat with you in
it?”
“Just as you please,” she replied, the
color faintly mantling ner pure face. “I
would be happy to have your company in
the carriage, unless you prefer going on
horseback.”
"By no means,” he smilingly answered.
“I certainly prefer the more sociable
way.”
He handed her into the carriage and
took a seat by the side of her, and they
drove off feeling blest in each other’s com
panionship. When they reached the
church it seemed to them as if they had
not been together five minutes, yet when
they remembered all that had been said
and thought and felt since they left Glen
side it appeared more like five hours.
They took their places among the wor
shiping assembly, and attracted much at
tention from the fact of Air. Le Verrier
having gone in with Glare and taken a
seat by the side of her. He did not notice
until he had been there some little time
that no other gentleman but himself sat
among the ladies.
The hymn was given out, and the
lines were read two at a time that all
might participate in the worship who
would; and Clare joined in the singing as
was her wont, though tremulously, be
cause he was listening. Ho took up the
bass, and though he was alone in it, vet
his full, clear tones swelled out so rich
and distinct, and blended so beautifully
with Clare’s voice, that they two might
almost be said to have made the music
lor that congregation.
Air. Le Verrier returned to Airs. Hon
fieur’s and spent the entire day. in the
afternoon he and Clare attended service
in the chapel with her mother, and after
tea he led her to the piano and joined her
in singing some splendid Oratorios.
“I always considered sacred musie far
richer and more elevating than any other,
even before 1 learned to sing with the
spirit and the understanding, as I trust 1
do now,” he said, reverently.
It was again late when they separated,
for the hours passed so j)lea3antly they
heeded not their flight.
Early on Aionday morning Aliss Thomp
son came over to spend the day. She had <
heard of Air. Le Vender’s arrival Saturday
night, and wanted to come over on Sun
day, but knowing Mrs. Le Verrier’s dis
like to Sunday visitors, and thinking per
haps Mr. Le Verrier might not be there
because it was the Sabbath, she had de
ferred her visit.
She came in tamiliarly, as she was in the
habit of doiug, and chatted of indifferent
things. Alter she had sat awhile and
nothing had been said of Air. Le Verrier,
she tried to lead the conversation to some
thing which might induce Clare to tell her
of his arrival.
“What did you do with yourself all day
yesterday, Clare?”asked Aliss Thompson.
“ The day was so long to me 1 didn't know
what to do. I hadn’t a thing to read and
had no company. I had some idea of
coming here, but thought probably you
would not be at home, you are such a
church-goer. What you can find to inter
est you in such a stupid crowd, I cannot
imagine. I would not go to church as
often as you do, not for pay.” As Clare
made no reply, she continued:
“Did you got to Orange Hill yesterday ?”
Whensho was answered affirmatively, she
rejoined: “Did you go alone?”
“I was not alone on yesterday,” Clare
said, trying to appear unconcerned and at
her ease, which she was not, for she felt
that scrutinizing eyes were upon her,
“Air. Le Verrier went with me.”
“What, Mr. Le Verrier, ofNewOrleans?
Is he visiting you?” she asked, putting a
particular emphasis on the you.
“He is spending some days at uvicle
Houghton’s place for sporting purposes,
and rode over on yesterday to accompany
me to church.”
"Well, he is getting very sanctified,”
said Aliss Thompson; “he must have al
tered strangely since 1 saw him. The
girls then thought it was hardly reputable
to be seen with him—he was so dissipated;
but 1 understood he was one of the kind
of men to adapt himself to any society he
pleased. He is certainly a very fascinat
ing man. I suppose he finds it as easy to
play the saint in orderto catch an heiress,
as to flirt with any of us who do net pre
tend to any piety. I wonder if 1 will have
the pleasure of seeing him?” she contin
ued. “But he does not know I live in this
neighborhood, and I suppose will not
find it out unless you happen to mention
it.”
“I will tell him,” said Clare, coldly.
“He will no doubt be glad to find an ac
quaintance here; it will make his time
pass more pleasantly.”
“And you will be sure not to get jeal
ous.” asked Miss Janie. “I would no’t tor
the world interfere with your plans.”
“1 bave no plans,” said Clare, annoyed
in spite of herself. “He is nothing to me.
How could i be jealous?”
As they were talking Air. Le Verrier’s
servant came in witfc a string of birds—
snipe and woodcock—and, pulling the
woolly lock on his forehead as a salute,
said:
“Mossa been send his ’spects lor you,
mis, au ask ’em please ’cept some birds
him kill.”
Rosa took them from him to carry them
to the cook, while Clare expressed her
acknowledgments to his master.
“Alars Arthur say he been come dine
wid you dis evening,” said Scipio, again
pulling his woolly lock and scraping his
right toot backward as a token of his de
parture, continuing to say a’s he left their
presence: “spec he been in ’bout half an
hour.”
“1 had better go home now,” said Aliss
Thompson to Clare, “lor if he finds me
here he will think 1 came on purpose to
see him.”
“How foolishly you talk,” replied Clare,
impatiently. “How can ha think that
when he did not know you were in the
parish, and could not of course BAppose
that you knew he was.”
Janie allowed herselt to be persuaded
into doing what she had fully intended to
do all the time.
When Clare saw her in the morning she
supposed that she had been arranging
herselt purposely to meet the stranger,
tor she had made a most elaborate and
beautiful toilet—something quite un
usual with her when coming to Mrs. Hon
fleur’B, tor she generally came there in her
ordinary attire, but she supposed herself
mistaken when Miss Thompson manifest
ed such ignorance of Air. Le Verrier being
in the neighborhood.
Duplicity was second nature to Aliss
Janie, and she could so well act any part
she pleased that it was the easiest matter
in the world to deceive Clare, who was
perfectly unsuspecting in her nature and
always truthful herself.
She’ proceeded to give Clare a detailed
account of Air. Le Verrier’s attention to
her when she met him in the city. Said
no lover could be more devoted than he
was; that he hung about her steps and
was her perfect shadow; that he had done
everything but declare himself, and would
have’ done that if she had given him an
opportunity, which she had since regret
ted not having done.
It is needless to say this statement was
all false. She had laid her snares tor him
with consummate art, determined to en
tangle him in an engagement if possible,
but they were unavailing. Before coming
to Mrs. Honfleur’s that morning she had
resolved to tell Clare this tale of his har
ing courted her, and to represent to her
that her heart was deeply interested in
the matter. She trusted to Clare’s gener
ous nature to aid her in making a con
quest of him.
Poor Clare! her dream of bliss suddenly
vanished icto thin air. This wily girl,
ho was misleading her, had well calcu
lated upon her generosity. She would
have immolated her own happiness a
thousand times, if that were possible,
rather than interfere with that of another,
and particularly when that other one was
her friend.
The girls were sitting out on an open
veranda at the end of the hall and their
surroundings were most attractive. They
looked out upon a grassy lawn made more
beautilul by shrubbery. Tne cape jessa
mines, which were numerous, and which
grew here to the size of trees, showed
peeping out from among their dark-green
glossy leaves, occasional flowers of spot
less purity and richest fragrance, which,
few as they were—for the early summer
witnessed their wealth ot bloom—made
the air redolent of sweetness. At one end
of the veranda was the aviary, and from
the other the conservatory opened. These
two fair girls, both beautiful if one was
heartless and treacherous, employing
themselves with their needles, made in
such a setting a rare and attractive
tableau, and Air. Le Verrier might well be
pardoned tor standing in rapt admiration
as he came upon them unannounced.
Joe, who was busy with his mistress in
the front garden, aiding her in training
and pruning some too luxuriant vines,
had told him where he would find the
young ladies and asked him to walk in.
Mr. Le Verrier had not observed Mrs.
Honfleur—she being engaged at that mo
ment around on the other side—he took it
for granted that the ladies meant Clare
and her mother. He was surprised at
seeing another ybung lady with Clare,
and in a moment recognized her as Miss
Thompson. He expressed himself grati
fied at meeting with her, and she immedi
ately appropriated him to herself. He had
taken a seat midway between her and
Miss Honfleur, but she insisted upon his
changinghis seat—said the lounge she was
sitting on was more comfortable and in a
shadier place, aud she did not rest until
she had him there by the side of her. She
had a thousand questions to ask about
New Orleans; of ladies and gentlemen
whom she had met, the amusements of
the place, and everything she could think
of. He told her that Mr. Moise’s son, who
had bees so long with the Indians, had
turned out quite a beau. She asked:
“Has he any intelligence?”
He replied:"
“Very little; but then you know' his
father has immense wealth, aud those
ladies who consider this the one thing
needful are ready to pay him assiduous
court; and by the aid of the tailor and the
dancing master he has become quite pre
sentable.”
“It is perfectly contemptible in any
body to marry for wealth,” said Aliss
Thompson; “that is, in my estimation,
though 1 think women are 'a little more
excusable for it than men. How a man
with a particle of seif-respect can marry
a rich girl when he is poor himself I can
not u*derstand.”
■ “Y'ou do not make auy distinction be
tween marrying a rich girl and marrying
for nriney,” said her companion. “I think
there is a vast difference between the two.
Suppose a man were to fall in love with a
young lady who happened to be rich—one
who is every way suited to him in age and
character and station, and with whom he
would have reason to promise himself the
greatest amount of happiness—is he to
make himself miserable, and perhaps her,
too, if his love is reciprocated, because
she has wealth and he has not?”
“Let him wait until he makes a fortune
equal to hers. lam sure she would never
have my respect for him; nor would he
have anything to promise himself in a
connection with her if she brought all the
mean! into the family.”
“If she considered his motives sinister
ones,” he replied, “she would at least
have the privilege of saying no to him be
fore the tie was joined.”
“AVell, if she was a friend of mine I
should certainly advise her to do it,” said
Aliss Janie.
Air. Le Verrier seemed restless and net
tled, jmd Clare, to whom the conversation
was Very distasteful, to say the least,
aroseand went into her aviary to amuse
hersdf with her birds, until their conver
sation should turn to some more agreeable
topic: She felt that Alias Janie designed
it alitor her, aud though she was trying
her best to give back in Aliss Thompson’s
favor, she thought that this was taking
au {indue advantage of her, as she was
in that station where God had
placed her, and was wealthy
without any volition ot her own.
A mockingbird, who was a fine songster,
and to whom she had paid particular at
tention, came flying towards her, and she
took rliim and* caressed him, glad that
something loved her.
The bell rung tor dinner, and she came
out and found her mother leading the way
towards the dining-room, and Aliss Thomp
son following her leaning on Air. Le Ver
rier’s arm which she had taken uuof
ftired.
During the whole afternoon Clare had
very little attention from Mr. Le Yerrier,
but it was not his fault, for so completely
was he entangled, in the toils drawn
around him that it was seemingly impos
sible for him to extricate himself. Miss
Janie stayed until after ten, and the car
riage had’been standing at the door wait
ing to convey her home for some hours, as
she had repeatedly expressed her inten
tion of leaving. When she was ready to
go she declared herself very sorry that
Mrs. Honfleur had taken the trouble to
order the carriage—said the evening was
so pleasant she much preferred walking,
and insisted on goiug home in that way.
Soipio stood at the gate with his mas
ter’s horse awaiting his readiness to.leave
for the lodge. *
As Miss Thompson was going to walk,
a thing, by the way, which she very rarely
did at any time, he was of course obliged
to walk with her. He ordered Scip to fol
low with his horse and bade the family
good night.
Poor Clare went immediately to bed and
cried herself to sleep that night. It was
in vain that she tried to reason with her
self that it was unwomanly and indelicate
to love any one who did not love her. “If
he had never led me to think that he cared
for me, I know I should never have cared
for him,” she said to herseli over and over
again.
Janie Thompson, on her arrival at
home, tried very hard to induce her escort
to go in and sit awhile; told him that she
had returned home early on purpose that
she might introduce him to her mother.
He said he would call at some future time
to enjoy that pleasure, and took his leave,
saying that he always kept very early
hours. .
“Very early hours he keeps,” she said to
Flora on reaching her own room. “He
staid until midnight Saturday and Sun
day night both at Mrs. Honfleur’s, and
here it is only half-past ten; hut I will cut
Clare Honfleur out as sure as my name is
Janie.”
“Of course, mis, you can do ’em ef you
bin try. Everybody know Miss Clare
can’t hold a candle to my mis for beauty,
an’ you been five times as smart as he am.
Did any to-day, Miss Janie?
Mas Sir very fond of singing. Ilim
sung Sunday evening at Mrs.
HonfleurS 1 told Scip then that he
ought tjß' my mis sing; that she done
beat singing all to nuffin’.”
mind, Flora, if I did not sing for
him, I talked enough. I kept him all to
myself all day. He took me out to dinner
and sat by me, and waited on me as if I
had been a queen. He certainly has the
most elegant manners ot any man I ever
saw ; but they are thrown away on Clare.
She has lived here in the country away
from all society, and has no appreciation
of what high breeding is. I know Mr. Le
Verrier will be at Mrs. Honfleur’s every
day, and I am going there again to-mor
row. You must do your best dressing
me. Flora. I mean to look just as pretty
as I can. Suppose you put my hair up in
papers to-night to make it curl. I would
give anything if I had such curls as
Clare: but Creoles always do have such
splendid hair.”
“You neber mind ’bout your hair, mis.
Sit down an’ let me put ’em up; I make
’em curl good as hers.”
“ What excuse shall I make, Flora, for
going there again to-morrow? They will
think it strange if I go too often, but I
must go every day until I can get him to
coming here, then I will be independent.”
“You must make some excuse, mis.
Tell ’em your ma been sick, an’ you come
to see ef Mis Honfleur can tell you what
to do for ’em.”
“But that won’t do, Flora, for then they
will think I ought to have staid home with
her. I know what to do. 1 will tell Clare
I came to get her to help me make some
wax flowers. We have been talking about
it this long time, and she promised to help
me when I got ready to make them. I will
commence to-morrow, and I will see to it
they are not finished too soon.”
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
In railway building across sandy de
serts the French engineers are beginning
to employ iron ties. A late pattern con
sists of a wrought-iron bar supported in
the middle and at both ends by globular
plates of cast-ron.
UNCLEAN FOOD.
Why tho Jews Were Forbidden to Eat
Certain Tilings—Eels and Ulood.
Fortnightly Revittc.
While the laws tor regulating the con
jugal relations were evidently intended to
i insure the continuous reproduction of
strong and healthy Israelites, the dietary
and hygienic laws were as obviously
designed for the maintenance of their
health and strength and the protection ot
their bodies against disease. Thus we
find included among the prohibited
sources of food all carnivorous animals,
the rodents, the carnivorous and carrion
eating birds, reptiles, amphibia, and
molusca; a list comprising a fcomplete
group of beasts, such as the swine, the
mouise, the rat, the cat, and the dog, etc.,
known to be perfect foci of trichinae and
other parasites. The communicability ta
man of parasitic diseases from animals
used as food has long been placed beyond
all doubt, it having been established that
the parasite is simply transferred from
the flesh ot the beast to that of the man,
in which it develops with frequently fatal
results. The prohibition of mollusca and
Crustacea is also of considerable pro
phylactic value. Not a few shell-lisb,
such as the common mussel, and even the
oyster, are at times capriciously unwhole
some and even poisonous; and the Crusta
cea are not merely the foulest feeders, but
their flesh is certainly hard to digest.
The explanation of the-prohibition with
respect to scaleless fish—that is, fish of
the eel type—has only recently been
rescued trom the speculation of the stu
dent of comparative theology and taken
in hand by the scientist. The result has
been its complete vindication. Air. Reade
having bred some eels in a pond which
had accidentally become polluted by sew
age matter, found the flesh so strongly
tainted in consequence as to be quite
uneatable. Struck by this fact he turned
some eels into a stream into which the
refuse of gas-works flowed, with the result
that the eels had a decided flavor of gas.
Further experiment demonstrated that,
owing to the absence of scales the eel be-
came a positive absorbent of noxious
gases, more particularly of the noxious
effluvia of decomposing and, therefore,
poisonous matter. The danger of such
food has always been duly appreciated by
Jewish teachers, and in the special men
tion of the snail by Aloses there is evidence
that the lawgiver was not unmindful of
the probable unwholesomeness ot poison
consuming animals. The Rabbis, too,
fully recognized the distinction between
the flesh of cattle rendered “unelean” by
specific disease and that which becomes
unwholesome through poison—a Alishna
ruling that, lfnn animal swallows a poi
son or is bitten by a venomous snake, its
flesh is forbidden, not because it is there
by rendered “unclean” according to the
law, but because it has become a danger
ous nutriment. The prohibition of the
hare has been explained, too, by the fact
that it eats many vegetable poisons, such
as the bark of the mezereon.
The dietary laws are not confined to a
mere division of all animals into two
classes, tho “clean” and the “unclean.”
It is another instance of the searching
character of Jewish “legalism” that it
prescribes even how much of the bodies of
permitted animals may be consumed as
food. Thus the use of" blood [is emphati
cally and repeatedly forbidden. This pro
hibition and the importance evidently
attached to it harmonize so exactly with
the lessons of modern science that it is
impossible to regard them as motivated by
any consideration other that the public
health, especially when tho three circum
stances are considered that the Mosaic
dispensation is the avowed enemy of all
superstitious symbolism, that it was
endeavored by * its means to break off
sharply from all foreign traditions, and
that its chief characteristic is its secular
ly.
The possibility of the blood containing
disease germs hot immediately affecting
the quality of the flesh is not rke only cir
cumstance tending to disqualify it for
food. TKere is, as has been pointed out
by a writer in the Journal of Science, the
more conclusive fact that the blood in its
normal condition almost invariably con
tains noxious elements. From the very
nature ot the double office of the circula
tory system this must be so, tor while, on
the*one hand, the blood serves to renew
the various parts of the system after their
’ ordinary wear and tear, on the other it
has to carry off the natural waste of the
tissues. This waste or refuse is ultimate
ly eliminated by means of the kidneys,
the sudiparous glands, etc., and then ap
pears in its avowed character of excre
meutitious matter; but it must always oe
to a certain extent present in the blood,
and in the event of any derangement of
the action of the kidneys, accumulates iu
considerable quantities and highly poison
ous qualities. It must be evident that the
blood is always an undesirable article of
food, especially as it is impossible when
an animal is slaughtered to separate the
arterial from the venous blood, which
would be the only means of overcoming
the difficulty.
MAKING A HITMAN FACE.
Thomas Colt’s Thirteen Years of Experi
ence Under the Surgeons
New York Sun.
In IS7I Thomas Colt, then 12 years old,
was taken to Bellevue Hospital suffering
from a disease which had destroyed his
nose and lips and had begun to affect his
eyes. He was taken in charge by Dr.
Gustavus Sabine, and since that time has
been under treatment with a view to re
placing the lost parts of the face.
After the course ol the disease had been
checked the process of building up was
begun by cutting away the flesh about the
edges of the orifice, where the nose had
been. Then the inside ol the large finger
of the right hand was flayed, and the fresh
cut wound was fitted where the nose
should be. The hand was held in place
by bandages and plaster of paris until the
finger had grown fast to the torehc-ad and
cheeks of the patient. In the mean time
the mouth was covered by the hand, and a
silver tube was inserted into the lad’s
throat, through which he was fed, and
through which he also breathed.
When the grafting of the finger to the
lace was completed, and circulation
established, the finger was amputated
near the knuckle, leaving two and a half
joints attached to the face 7 The operations
so far had required about a year, but the
process was only begun. The next step
was to trim down the finger into the
shape of a nose by removing the bone and
gradually building up the flesh on each
side and drawing the skin from the cheeks
and forehead over it. In course of time
the result sought was obtained, except
that there were as yet no nostrils.
The eyes of the unfortunate boy had
both been drawn out of position somewhat,
and these were straightened by clipping
nerves in the manner usually adopted by
oculists in treating cross-eyed people.
The eyebrows were also patched up at the
inner ends.
The next step was to give the boy anew
pair of lips. This was done gradually by
taking pieces of flesh from the cheeks'and
grafting them in place bit by bit.
Yesterday, after thirteen years of ex
perience under a surgeon’s knife, having
meantime undergone and recovered from
thirty different operations, the patient,
now a young man, left the hospital. His
face was smooth, and to the casual
observer bore no traces of what he had
passed through. The ease is extraordi
nary tor the extent of the work done and
the perfect result obtained. Not less
extraordinary was the fortitude of the
patient, who never murmured under the
necessiuily painful operations, and who,
when milking the floor because of his
suffering, was wont to cheer up the other
patients in the ward by teliing droll
stories, of which he had a large supply.
He was known in the hosital as “Patient
Tommy.”
yropooalo iUantcD.
Proposals for Improving Rivers and
Harbors.
United States Engineer Office, 1
Army Building, New York. Aug. 16,1884. j
SEALED PItOPOSALS, in triplicate, to be
opened at 12 o’clock noon on the Uth day
of September, 1884, are invited for the con
struction of Jetties at Cumberland Sound,
Georgia and Florida, and also for continuing
work upon the Jetty in Brunswick Harbor, Ga.
The proposals for each of the works will be
separate, and tne indorsement on the envelope
must indicate the work for which the pro
posal is offered. A bidder may propose for
one or both of the works at his option. Speci
fications, instructions to bidders and blank
forms for proposals may be obtained at this
office. Q. A. GILLMORE,
Col, of Engineers, Br't Maj. Gen. U.S. A.
PROPOSALS WANTED.
BIDS will be received for Bar Privilege at
50-Hour Walking Match at Turner’s
Hall. Sept. 4, 5 and 6, until TUESDAY, Sept.
2,1884. The right is reserved to reject any or
all bids.
P. H. GEARON* Manager,
McDonough, near East Broad street.
CHEAPEST VARIETY STORE.
GOODS sold from 5 cents up. Bargains can
be gotten now in Tinware, Frames, Pic
tures, Looking-Glasses. Tovs. Call and con
vince yourself at NATHAN BROS.’, 186 Con
gress street.
! Crcj &oa!>0,
iXiSiii
IN ORDER TO DISPOSE OF THE RE
MAINDER OF OUR STOCK OF
Ladies’, Misses’ and
CHILDREN'S
Summer Undervests
We have deckled to offer them at
SUCH REDUCED PRICES
As will warrant their immediate disposal.
SPECIAL AAIONG THE MANY REDUC
TIONS BEING THE FOLLOWING;
Ladies’ Gauze Vests
50 dozen LADIES’ GAUZE VESTS reduce
from 330. and 35c. to 20c. each.
Misses’ and Children’s
SUMMER VESTS.
75 dozen MISSES’ AND CHILDREN’S
SUMMER VESTS, reduced from 25c., 40c and
50c. to 15c,, 20c. and 25c.
All onr finer grades of Summer Vest
at still greater redactions.
B.F, McKENNA & CO.
cummte.
lES, IT IS HOT!
YES, IT IS HOT, AND OUR THIN GOODS
Xpw v*p, v noNK, BUT WE HAVE A FEW
LEFT THAT MUST GO Ai,,„
Now is the Time for Bargains.
COME AT ONCE!
CLOTHING FOR MEN, YOUTHS, BOYS
AND CHILDREN. HATS AND FURNISHING
GOODS MUST GO TO MAKE ROOM FOR OUR
FALL GOODS, W HICH W ILL BE COMING IN
A FEW DAYS.
COME AT ONCE, EVEN IF YOU DON’T
WANT THEM FOR IMMEDIATE USE, AS IT
WOULD PAY YOU TO BUY NOW AND KEEP
THEM UNTIL NEXT YEAR.
WHITE VESTS.
KINO OF SHIRTS!
IF YOU CAN’T COME SEND YOUR ORDERS.
Ghas. Logan & Cos„
THE SzV'VzVTVJN./VIX
Clothing & Hat Store,
139 CONGRESS STREET.
jJrcoprup fm
HEADQUARTERS
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F lLi Y FANS.
—FOB—
Preserve Jars, Kerosene Stoves,
Cream Freezers, Water Filters.
JAS, S. SILVA.
ZOoxtxo*
J. J. M’DONOUOH. THOS. BALLANTYNK.
nicdonough £ baluntvne
MAKUFACTUBSB3 OF
Stationary, Portable, Rotary
And Marine Engines,
Locomotive, Return Tnbnlar, Floe
and Cylinder Boilers,
Mill Gearing, Sugar Mills and Pans, Vertical
and Top-Running Corn Mills, Shafting, Pul
leys, Hangers, and all machinerv in general.
KE HOE’S IRON WORKS.
Castings of all Descriptions,
SUGAR MILLS & PANS
A SPECIALTY,
CEMETERY, GARDEN, VERANDA
AND BALCONY RAILINGS.
WM. KEHOE & CO..
East end of Broughton at.. Savannah, Ga.
jHiDutnai.
luUManil W’ HISKY~H A BITS* cured by
B. M. WOOLLEY', M.D., Atlanta, Gw,
Reliable evidence given and reference to cured
patiients and physicians. Send tor my hook
on the Habits and their Cure, tree.
potio’ eioitftttg.
THE FIRST
GENUINE SALE
PRIOR TO REMOVAL TO MY
NEW STORE
Will begin this morniug and continue
throughout the entire week. The prices
will speak for themselves. The goods I
offer are all new, stylish, and in every way
desirable, and the figures at which I make
them are pretty good evidence of my de
termination to reduce the stock
Regardless of Cost.
Cash buyers will find this an exceptiona
opportunity to purchase good goods at ex
actly one-half usual prices.
jBOYS’ CLOTHING
A special line of BO YS’ CHBVOIT, SEll .E,
CORKSCREW', WORSTED and CASSIMEKE
SUITS in all styles aud colors, with plaited
waists, at exactly one-half their marked
prices.
f 4 00 Suits at $2 00
5 00 Suits at 2 50
6 00 Suits at 3 00
7 00 Suits at . 3 50
8 00 Suits at 4 00
9 00 Suits at i 50
to oo Suits at..'. oo
11 00 Suits at . 5 50
All Wool SAILOR SUITS, made of Blue or
Gray Flannel and w r orth from 13 50 to $4, at
?2 65.
BLUE SAILOR SUITS of excellent quality
worth $4 50 to $3.
Unprecedented Bargains
In Gents’ Lau:dried and Unlaundried Shirts,
as well as in Gents’ Balbriggan and India
Gauze Undervests in short aud long sleeves.
DANIEL HOGAN.
Itlatt&EO attft gcturU’tj.
ASSIGNEE’S SALE.
The Entire Stock
—OF—
F.H. MEYER
No. 120 Kronghton Street,
Consisting of Fine j EWeIrY ,
DIAMONDS, WA; cIIESj CHAINS,
qoj iE , pkns, STERLING
SlLV !l’it aud PLATED WARE, GOLD
HEADED CANES, FRENCH and AM
ERICAN CLOCKS, SPECTACLES, and
articles generally kept in a first-class
jewelry store,
Inst Bfi Solft HegarSless of Cost.
The stock is a fine one. It will, there
fore, pay to come early to make selections.
This is a rare chance to buy the finest
goods at almost your own figures.
CHAS. KOLSHORN,
Assignee.
Great Reduction in Prices
—OF—
WATCHES and JEWELRY
—AT—
S. L. DESBOUILLONS,
21 Bull Street.
IADIE3’ Gold Watches, key-winders, *2O,
j reduced to $lB.
Ladies’ Gold Watches, key winders, *25,
reduced to *2O.
Ladies’ Gold Watches, stem winders, *3B, re
duced to 130.
Ladies’ GoldWatchea, stem winders, *56, re
duced to *4B.
Ladies’ Gold Watch Chain -, *3B, reduced to
*3O.
Ladies’ Gold Watch Chains, *35, reduced to
*2B.
Ladies’ Gold Watch Chains, *55, reduced to
*43.
Gents’ Cameo Rings, *lO and *l2, reduced to
*8 and $3.
Diamond Ear Rings and Diamond Finger
Rings at a bargain.
Silver-Plated Ware reduced 20 per cent.
Gold Pens and Gold Pencils very cheap.
Fine French Clocks very much reduced.
This is a Fine Chance for Buying Fine
, Goods at Low Figures.
A. L. DESBOUILLONS,
21 Bull Street.
FLY TRAPS.
SSuurtmcn’o ©ooße,
Awlliiiiitiea a Specialty.
KING’S GREAT WESTERN
GUNPOWDER!
GUNPOW DER!
SPECIAL PRICES TO PARTIES BUYING
IN LOTS.
P. Q. KESSLER & CO.
55CP00.
. Still in the Lead. ~~
Just received, Valentine Beans and new
supply of Cabbage and Turnip Seed. Con
tracts made and prices furnished for fall
seed. Call on me and save money. I am
determined to furnish best seed at bottom
prices. E. J. KIEFFER,
West Broad and Stewart streets.
West Broad and Waldburg streets.
15 U I ST’S
WARRANTED
GARDEN SEEDS.
A FRESH SUPPLY JUST RECEIVED AND
FOR SALE BY
OSCEOLA BUTLER.
Eno’s Fruit Salt
FOR SALE AT
STRONG’S DRUG STORE.
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