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THIS WINTER will be coed.
i tell von what UK:
A* Aire a- I am an o.<l
, , i pawned weather-prophet,
A will be cold.
, tnow it )<m m well
1 mutbing OB earth,
, l on it I would wager
-'j,",,.,,jurat that I’m worth.
x j morning as I came
1 . ,n-- the ashen lea,
i V i the spotted piglets
A \| resting in a tree.
j . :i w the snnfish play
And frolic on the hill,
.ho Shanghai rooster .
1 -wim round the meadow rill.
, ~ .s c Durham bull
1 the garden wait
.‘-i his wisdom-teeth
A \v th a fading lily-stalk.
, th. -rare deal-sure signs
. ■ winter will be cold
. •-i-v i tve proved truthful—
i r r j‘ :*rs, and f am old.
.... w 1 letter save,
| no l* gal notes,
“i aU beneetting
it*. — Park.
picrnitfS lltlvo Stvmlo.
TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS
—OF A—
COUNTRY GIRL*
. tn> ALICE MITCHELL WALKER
CHATTER V.
a ill pass over the grief of Pauline.
. . . v re jtoignunt than is usually un
(■■r a parent. The old man had
. . t nder and indulgent, tilling the
t ini r. mother and friend. Dur
, lft.l time of his sickness and
Mayfield had proved an in
. friend*. Pauline felt she never
• ,v- undergone it all but for his
. i. • ip-. Then, too, he had l>eea such
. i ll help in the sick-room. She
. uhl never be grateful enough to
’ , , fen. during the dark days after
•r.pidfatber's death, Pauline's heart
for her late gay spirits.
t. Ttu" wheel of life moves around!
vis bright as with the glistening
J;. white the next is dark and
'A A" i >n< e Pauline l>oundetl through
uul. -\er the plantation sock
et after another to admire and
\ -he went about with her eyes
p and, as if in all the wide world
nothing left for her to love. The
-i ovto a bright, young heart is
v ud to bear, but it purities and
- the character, though it may for
.. -übdue all joy.
v. days went by Pauline grew more
1 to her loss, and the sweetest
■ is a timid instinct which wliisper
. heart that she was not entirely
• that at least one heart yet in the
® i ired for her.
• V more than one, - ' she added to ber
-1 must not -forget dear Mr. Mal
ntl brother Will. 1 must st that I
much to be thankful for yet.”
"l*r. Mav field, w hose little vacation had
.. ily lengthened itself beyond his
-und on opening his mail the morn
gaiter Farmer Jones’ death, so urgent
is ii , i al for bis return home from one of
* - . nts that he felt he must go. Very
K . nth he left his sweet, young friend
.. -U sorrow, but promising to write
left her in aunt Martha’s hands,
; Will was to return to college, and Mr.
would take her home with him.
Hik* was >;uite broken up, and -went
, *. u t k vine very sorrowful, and said to
v r , Malcom in a pitiful tone:
Malcom, 1 always went so fur
- say I’d never leave old marse long
. . lived: now he done gone and old
Now Miss Pauline she going to
t ; a- oi l darkey off.”
no, Mike; but didn’t you know
„ no one else now to look* after the
- You must just take charge ot
lair.g. Make what you can; nail on
- . sand palings and care for the
•k. lik> y always have. Come to me
•dvice.’’
T„> tilled the old darkey’s heart with
.and he took charge of things with
si' - self-satisfaction,
i’anlme knew the broad fields which
t -o fruitful were now valueless,
far from a railroad and for want
1- to work and many are the plans
v revolving in her m'ind to enable
v. ,;t finish his education, and for her
support.
i.is l Mr. Malcom discussed one af
:: .i ther, but finally agreed upon a lit
--u -1 right there among their neigh
- Pauline succeeded better than sue
ill expected. During the summer Dr.
Mayfield wrote to her regularly 6uch
sn t. comforting letters, the long, hot
. she iter for their coming. His
visits were like oases in the monotony of
her schooldays.
Asfin October cranes. The leaves, so
lithe while ago green with youth, are now
toning brown. The oak and cinnamon
are ' '"ring rich hues for their burial
:)'■ v As the wind rustles among them
conn- whirling down in such showers
i'.'rings to mind the sad fate of Danal.
"none of these golden October days,
•- ew.-t test of all the year, Pauline feels
an-■ sad. Aout Martha is indulg
-t- r regular Sunday afternoon nap.
X Male >m has gone to his study to over
v is (\.-nins: sermon. Pauline, thus
bi' herself, feels she cannot endure the
■ air longer; so, snatching a book,
a miner house. The honey
' -it boasts enough blossoms to till
wit.i their sweet perfume. Here
’- ii m n ad, bat failed. Thoughts of
: grandpa, Will, and eftener, per-
I- ■ another tall form filled her heart.
- 1 1 . her grandfather was softened
i a .' -'.ig’iahe deeply felt his loss,
■ - taut the wide world she'd
-aii uad love so tender and un
'a •*' l;s, still reason had taught her
v2v ■< must necessarily pay its
ul after all she had the sweet a>-
' -it grandfatlit* was in
, irsonage was
• ■■• t c.-nleat. she was loved by
- not excepting the favorite
" bile her school succeeded well,
lated to enrich her tinau
?!- 1 ’ ni thought she was doing
-d ‘ - -tilers: ■ still, my-dear,” he
> iu are hiding your
or talents in a napkin. 1 want to
with us, but I really feel like 1
, i" 1 something lietter.”
”, ilear Mr. Malcom, do not speak of
11 me away from you all just yet!”
V- ' ' “ !m l , with tears iu her eyes,
i Mai- in. touched with her evident
pn i r Lis family, said no more on
kturi,. Pauline, still occupied with
iteugats. hi an! horses’ hoofs coming
; ■ 'ue laii’. 'he looked out listlessly to
t .Passer-by. He stops. She won-
Dr. Mayfield, and her
L with glad expectancy. Yes,
- : she sees the well-known lorm now
---inttly.
H.jw kial to come again so soon.” she
to herself.
vlan ' ll str ‘des hastily up the walk,
Li. ° l: . '' bim, hoping to find Pau
.v,„. ” ‘“d alone. A joyous sparkle
Sis 111 f . eyes as he catches a
• dress in the summer house,
w/’d 11 s Pauline,” he murmured.
uver iht- name.
tewhasa c °ming. and has noted
!“'■ h v !' is i°°king; how bocom-
I Sria.- ,i suit “ L ‘ "ears, but on hi 6 ap
.rvi.v reads her book,
si;., lr , ! Reginald has reached her
‘dosing the book in her
- beside ner.
nveyed in that one word!
Shtj.;,*** u ’■ untied to each of them!
• 4 >&*' f . " or, l but looked up in his
Sa.jhJrL.*** love written there as 6he
“iV t* 1 voice.
Bpe.skiota-* ay : larlin t I have waited to
u u atil now, because I would
. upon - ,our sorrow. I have so
- °u, to hear your voice, to
Jos s JT 1 you will love me. to hear
t-v n S- that 1 resolved last
few jn-'roso my eyes again until I
-gv7.' [ am here, Pauline: what
li'i little one? AVill you give
I a( -' ar - bttle hand for my very
it very much,” she an
.. : ' iVet 't voice full of tearful
a*7 u ,‘ ln , a so lew Reginald
Stc-'a % wo r !i tna 1116 car vtry close to
r ltu .. m - v "bole life, Pauline.
■* „,! Pom the very first, and I
1 ' - °appy in the thought that
‘SapphiHi 5 ib* returned. To know it is
Hsittf,,, 3 !/ cann °t describe; but per
*sr, t’ )0 J 4 me you know something
The ,n- a - v ‘t is sc, sweet PaulineP*
fist i Pl'inesscxprwMd m her lovely
if the b‘ply she could make
if'tijn• r • '• " as enough.
’ y.:: f. her roine after a time, for,
to talk of his own
-'h - “ ,r ' i; toact of Congress in the
* St4r ‘4aoi (v,* - “tiD* in the office of the
4 b’meress at Washington.
love, drew S-”T to speak of her own. They
chatted or the subject so near their hearts
until the day, closing in about them, the
hour of soft twilight fell upon them, that
sweet time when lovers like to whisper
love—the outpouring of true heart to
true heart.
Let those who are disappointed in life,
those who have .never loved, those whs
have loved, but not well, say what they
may, these are the sweetest, purest mo
ments in life, when a great, bounding love
first is told to willing ears. “With two
seeming bodies, but one heart.”
Not until June would Pauline consent
to lie a bride. Reginald urged the anni
versary of their meeting, but to this she
replied that it was also the anniversary of
her grandfather’s death, so not until June
would she promise to be his wife.
With what loving care has she plied her
busy stitches. Woven into them are lov
ing thoughts of her lover, noble aspira
tions of her future life, bright visions of
the time to come when she would be his
“queen of hearts.”
Her bridal dress of white organdie she
is making herself. Her gloves, bonnets
and one handsome silk she has ordered
from a fashionable dressmaker, and she
thinks with pride if she has no queen’s
wardrobe her trousseau is at least pretty
and sufficient.
Dr. Mayfield divided his joy with no one
but his invalid brother, who* was almost
as delighted as Dr. Mayfield himself—he
had always so longed for a sister. Why
he had delayed so long to tell his mother
he could not have explained.
Perhaps he feared she might make some
objections to his choice, or it might be, as
there had never been a great deal of sym
pathy between them, he felt little inclina
tion to lay bare to her eyes things so sa
cred to his heart.
CHAPTER VI.
In one of our Southern cities, out far
enough to be called a suburban residence,
is the home of Dr. Mayfield. It was
built by his grandfather, who was fond of
English ideas and usages. He be
queathed it to his eldest son on condition
that it should thus be handed down and
retained in the family. Thus it had de
scended to Reginald Mayfield. All the
work, the new as well as the old addi
tions, proved ornamental, as all had been
made by the best workmen in the best
possible manner.
The old stone house on Laurel Ilill out
vied its newer, brighter neighbors iu
style and durability. The mansion is some
di’stauce from the street. On one side
white, winding walks lead from the car
riage gate to the front and side entrances.
The beds are covered with blue grass;
rose bushes and green sbrubberry abouud.
Here and there are scattered mounds and
beds covered with bright flowers and ge
raniums. A couple of fountains send cool
spravs of sparkling water into basins
whose sides are lined with pretty grasses
and rare flowers. Altogether it’s the most
desirable house near the city. Each own
er has felt a peculiar pride in keeping
Laurel Ilill as the original owner desired
—a home of comfort and of beauty.
if Mrs. Mary Mayfield saw anything
unusual iu the improvements being made
at Laurel Ilill during the last few months
she said nothing, but she did write to
her niece, Irene Warner, to make her an
other visit as soon as possible. If her
stepson had been absent from the city
nfter than usual she had not noticed it,
for his professional calls led him every
where. There was no doubt of his grow
ing popularity, she felt with a kiud of self
ish pride. She had lew opportunities for
confidential chats, as they rarely meet ex
cept at the table; often these meals were
taken at irregular hours in his own of
fice. Tnis room, with his bed-room, was
somewhat cut off from the other part of
the household, connecting with the lawn
by a side porch. Reginald could by t hese
means come and go without disturbing the
comfort of anyone.
Dr. Mayfield’s stepmother was a cold,
proud woman. Possessed of great wealth
when her first husband had married her,
no one but herself knew what grief and
rage filled her heart when she found her
husband had recklessly lost everything in
wild speculation. He soon after died.
A year alter she married Mr. Mayfield,
who was twenty years her senior. No
one ever found a reason for this second
marriage. .Mr. Mayiieki had mourned his
first wile so long and sincerely, his sons
had no thought ol seeing another in their
mother’s place; but he brought the widow
home to rule over his home, and right roy
ally did she reign over sons, household
and husband. Such a model housekeeper
was she that her husband m -st coine to
the back entrance when it was muddy.
The old man was not allowed to smoke his
pipe around his cozy tire as was his cus
tom; the smoke would ruin the lace cur
tains. So he and his pipe were vanished
to a little dark room she called his smok
ing-room, and there his boys would often
find him and while away a pleasant hour
or two. ’Tis said she worried the old man
into a fever: certain it is he never recover
ed. In secret again she nursed her wrath
when the will was read. The beautiful
home was not hers, after all. “What fool
ideas they have, these Mayfields! 1 won
der what’he thought I married him for, if
not for Laurel Hill?” However, she was
well provided for, as was Douglass, but
‘•Laurel Hill” was unconditionally left to
the elder son, in whose charge the invalid
bov and widow were carefully left.
This, together with a very good annuity,
was all. But chafe as she might, she was
obliged to yield to the inevitable, and,
keeping her stand in the household, she
had not felt her disappointment as muca
as she first thought, knowing that the
young heir would never wish her to leave
her home. And the dear scheme of her
life now was to arrange a marriage be
tween her niece, Irene Warner, and Dr.
Mayfield. She had her to make visit after
visit, and had been quite hopeful of the
result; for had not “Regie,” as Irene was
fond of calling him, been quite attentive.
She was so bright and pretty he enjoyed
her visits, ’twas true, and paid her the at
tentions which as host he owed to so lair a
guest, and if he came oftener to the fami
ly dining-room, and sometimes even to
their late breakfast, ’twas because he
enjoyed it, but not because he was in love,
as his stepmother >.ud Irene fondly hoped.
One dreary evening, after the close of a
dreary, busy* day, Dr. May field came home
1 an I let himself *in with iiis private key.
! Taking off bis damp coat, he called Sam
te replenish the tire. Soon the room was
cheery with a bright blaze. When, with
. the aid of the tire and a dressing-gown, he
| considered hnnself dry enough to enter
his stepmother’s presence, he determined
to seek her at once.
This resolve made, he is anxious to have
it over without delay. T.trusting bis feet
in a pair of slippers, a few moments alone
elapse ltefore he stands knocking at her
private room door for admittance. This
granted, he walks up to her, asking, a
little nervously, how she feels.
** Yerv well,’ thank you. Have this
chair, it’s been quite a while since you’ve
honored me with a private chat.”
Mrs. Mayfield carefully brushed away
an imaginary specs, and pushed the chair
towards him.
“No, thauks,” R, ginald replied, grace
fully leaning against the mantel as he
looked down upon her, while a tender
smile played about his lips. He was think
ing ol Pauline, and startled his listener
with: “What would you say, mother, to
having a daughter?”
the looked up quickly and gave him a
penetrating glance.
“Daughter?” she repeated. “I should
like it above all things. I have so often
longed for the time to come when you
would bring a wife to Laurel Hill. 1 shall
be very jealous of your choice, however.
I think you have reason to believe that it
has long been my desire to see you united
to Irene.”
This last sentence was accompanied
with another sharp glance. “What if af
ter all someone else had won his heart,”
she thought, with dismay. “Purely, if it
was Irene she would have known it from
her.”
Reginald threw his head back and
laughed heartily.
“Excuse me, mother. 1 was thinking
of .Sain Weller’s advice to his son Samivel
—‘Samivel, mv son, beware of widders!’ ”
“Reginald, I think your remark out of
place io me.” This in an injured tone.
“No; if my father could not withstand
the fascination ol a fair young widow, so
much more am 1 afraid to vie with so
formidable a beauty and wit as your love
ly niece.”
“Beside.” continued Mrs. Mayfield,
“Irene is no more than a child yet. She
married so young, and her husband died
so soon after, no one thinks of her as a
widow.”
“Well, mother dear, I am sorry we have
not pleased you iu this respect! Jesting
aside. Irene would not suit me at all, nor
I her. She will make a much better choice
than taking your graceless son, l do as
sure you. It is too late to advice me, as I
have already given my whole heart to an
other. I came to tell you that within a
month I will be married to the sweet
young girl who is foolish enough to trust
Uersflt to the aforesaid graceless son of
yours.”
This is said lightly, but with a con
sciousness that is not near so trifling as
his words imply.
.Mrs. Mayfield Is pale with suppressed
THE SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1884.
anger and disappointment. It was a kind
of relief to her to see someone standing
in the doorway. On recognizing Irene
Warner, both felt embarrassed, and won
dered what she had heard. Neither ever
knew. She smilingly advanced towards
them.
“A famous beauty was once reproved
for appearing slovenly dressed.” She re
plied that she liked to put her lace to its
own test sometimes. Although not slov
enly dressed—lrene was ever too polite for
that vice—still the damp feathers and
flabby traveling dress on another would
have paled, if not destroyed, the srace of
many a belle; but Irene, a bright flush suf
fusing either cheek, her lips parted in a
smile, showing two rows of pearly teeth,
greeted her aunt and then Dr. Mayfield.
“What were you all discussing so earn
estly? I thought I heard my name. Sure
ly, poor I was not being torn to pieces ?”
Irene looked up shyly at Dr. Mayfield.
“Eaves droppers never hear any good of
themselves,” he teasingly replied.
“This is nice pay I am receiving for my
little plan of giving auut Mary a pleasant
surprise. I found a friend who was anxi
ous to come to the city to-day, so I hur
riedly packed my trunk and came with
her. 1 would not let Sam announce me,
but ran all about looking for you, aunr.
Mary, and this is my reward. Dripping
wet, no one offers to help me off with my
agreeable duster; not even a chair do I
get, and am called eavesdropper to boot.
It’s too bad, indeed. I’m thinking seri
ously of returning on the next train, even
if we are having such a delightful May
shower.”
Then, prettily putting up her hands, she
pretends to weep, but Dr. Mayfield
hastens up, and with exaggerated solici
tude wheels her a cnair to the grate, blows
up a fire, helps her off with her wraps,
finds a stool for her feet, then rushes
around frantically for the smelling salts,
until all laugh and feel comfortable. Just
then Sam pops his head in and says in his
jiompous style:
“Doctor, dere’s a man ’quiring for you.
He say dat his dorter taken quite bad, sut
tent.”
“Very well. Ask him to sit by my fire
a moment, and you get my horse ready,
Sam. Now, ladies, you see I can never be
a society man. 1 was just thinking what
a pleasant evening 1 was to enjoy, but see
—first, I have received a scolding for
want of gallantry, and, having only par
tially recovered from the shock, you hear
me called upon to go out again into the
pleasant May shower, as Miss Irene calls
it.”
With a deep-drawn sigh he sank into a
chair in mock despair.
“Aunt Mary, the salts are in demand
again,” exclaimed Irene.
“Reginald,” said his stepmother, “1
really do think it is preposterous the
manner in which you allow the people to
impose upon you. I heard Sam say you
did not have time to eat your dinner. Now
I know you are just silly enough to tramp
off in the rain without your supper. Why
don’t you have office hours?”
“I do, most gracious mother, but some
times those unfortunate people are un
thoughtful enough to get sick between of
fice hours.”
“It’s raining; you need supper, and
Irene will play for you if you’ll stay.”
“Thanks! I should find it more than
pleasant, but duty before pleasure must bo
a do.-tor’s inevitable rule, you know,” and
bowing gallantly he withdrew.
“The queerest of men. He has such
odd ideas of duty. lam really provoked
that he should leave us, on your first even
ing, too,” said Mrs. Mayfield.
‘■Oh. no; I’m tired anyway, and you
know he always went when called under
all circumstances. L should not be pleased
with such an indifferent beau, myself. I
shall want to be first duty in my husband’s
heart. He would cooily tell his wife she
could not have his important self as an
escort to some expected resort, which
probably she has quite set her heart upon,
because, forsooth, some beggar is drunk or
has the colic,” sneeringly replied Irene.
Douglass begged to be excused from
supper, as he was feeling unwell. So
.Mrs. Mayfield entertained her niece until,
seeing she looked tired and worn out, she
invited her to her old room, and affection
ately bade her good-night.
The next night Mrs. Mayfield sought
Irene in her room, and began to pour out
her grievous wrongs.
“Do you know the first evening you
came Reginald was telling me be was go
ing to be married, and I’ve made it my
duty to-day to get all the information I
could from him in order to tell you. He
is actually going to bring a wife here
within a month. Actually, she cooks and
does all sorts of things*. Think of it,
Irene. Reginald has been so indifferent
to society. J did not dream he had a
thought ot anything but his profession.
Lately 1 have had some misgivings. 1
will take you through his rooms to-mor
row, and you will see why. Surely, I
knew he would marry some day, but 1
have hoped it would be to someone to
whom 1 could willingly give up my place;
hoped so much, in fact, that I had taken it
as a certainty. I can’t see how I can en
dure to live with this green country girl as
nfistress here.”
“Well, auntie dear, give up your laurels
as gracefully as possible. You must own
we have failed, for the snares you and 1
have laid ought to have caught half a
dozen husbands.”
“Don’t speak so, Irene, for heaven’s
sake. What’s the use to talk over such
things?”
“O, well, I have done my very best to win
him, and as there was no love mixed in
on either sule.it don’t hurt me to speak of
it to you; but the girl must be more than
a green country girl. I know Reginald
too well to believe for an instant he could
love such a person.”
“Oh, he didn’t say that in so many
words, but ’twas all the same. She’s
never been out in society at all, and I be
lieve she’s as poor as she's ignorant,
teaching a crowd of dirty country ur
chins. I’ll venture you can’t guess her
name.”
“Jane Smith?”
“No: worse.”
“.Jones? O, well, you know it will soon
be Mayfield, and that won’t be so bad,” she
laughed, heartily.
“1 see, Irene, you are bent upon any
thing ’out consoling me, so we’d best drop
the subject.”
“Now, aunt Alary, you know I sympa
thize with you. She may suit you better
than you think, though I own I have my
misgivings. From the very first I would
take it as a matter of course that every
thing was to be carried on just as now;
never let her know that ‘Laurel Hill’ be
longs to ber. In a word, I think she’ll
hardly feel herself capable of taking your
place.”
-How 1 wish it were you, Iren-!”
“Never wish it again, auntie, I pray
you. How do you know I would have
been as tractable as you wish? Suppose,
alter becoming Mrs. Dr. Mayfield, I bad
demanded the keys, and, with many
thauks for helping ine get a desirable hus
band, shown you the door?”
“1 know better, but 1 shall never speak
to you on the subject again; be sure of
that,” said Mrs. Mayfield, half angrily.
Irene laughed, and dresv her into chats
of “Auid Lange Syne,” and soon had the
satisfaction of bidding her a very affec
tionate good-night.
Irene took off her pretty dress, let down
her lovely black hair, and reached out her
hand to call her maid, but another
thought changed her purpose, and, put
ting on a soft wrapper, 6hc hastily combed
out the long, glossy mass, and tucking it
up soon found in her trunk a package of
letters.
“I will soon see,” she exelaimed, as she
eagerly went through the whole number
of the promiscuous scraps and letters.
“Y'es,” she exclaimed, with eyes spark
ling with triumph, “the very name, and—
yes. here I have the photograph too. Ah!
Pauline Jones, these letters and this pic
ture shall work you trouble enough to re
j>ay me in part for my disappointment.
Don’t like vidders, does he? Well, he
sh ill bairn no cause to change his opinion.
It’s well enough in novels to talk about
breaking off a marriage by stratagem, in
tercepting letters, etc. I believe they are
generally thwarted anyway. In life, mar
riage is the beginning; in noY’els, the end
of life. I know I can't prevent this mar
riage. I feel 1 could never gaiu Reginald
Mayfield’s heart, but I will give them
some trouble—that 1 am resolved upon.”
She caught a glimpse of her gleaming
eyes and crimson cheeks in her mirror,
and smiled as she thought how well ex
citement became her.
“Poor indeed will be my power if with
my face 1 do not gain a suitable settle
ment in this fashionable world of mine,
even if love is not part of the bond; for
ob. Reginald, deny it as 1 may, I have
never loved but you, and will never care
a pin for anv other man. But this coun
try lassie! "Well, we shall see.” So mut
tering she fell asleeD as calmly as if no
thought of evil had ever disturbed her
brain.
In her own room Mrs. Ylayfield sat up
right iu her stately chair—she never used
a rocker—knitting her brow darkly.
“Failed in the very bud of my plar.% If
only he could have married Irene! I will
ha\ : e to swallow everything whether I
like it or not. My income is too small to
keep up the style I desire, beside the
world shall not s*ay I have been supplant
ed and must leaye Laurel Hill. I will be i
mistress here sometime at least,” and the
elder widow, too, went calmly to rest.
Over the little bedroom at the parson
age the rain came down patter, patter on
the roof, and drip, drip against the win
dow. The blinds flapped to and fro with
a dreary sound; the dog howled mournful
ly. The wind moaned into Pauline’s very
ears she imagined.
She turned restlesslv about on her pil
low, muttering:
“I wonder why I cannot sleep. ‘The day
is cold and dark and dreary,’ seems to
ring in my ears.”
Turning over, with one little hand
thru9t under her cheek, she slept, and
dreamed of grandpa and Forest Home.
A mile from home, in the suburbs of
the city, up a long flight of stairs, Dr.
Mayfield drew closer to the fire which
burned with a flickering glare, revealing
a room containing two beds and a very
few necessary articles of every day life;
revealed, also, the pale face ot a child
who was carefully held in Reginald’s
arms. She was restless with fever. The
anyious father tood near.
“Go to bed, Mr. Glass,” authoritatively
demanded the doctor. “You will have to
take your engine in a tew hours, sick
child or no sick child. Go to bed. Min
nie shall be attended to; 1 will not leave
her.”
The child, holding his hand with her
head laid on his breast, finally closed her
eyes and slumbered. The mysterious
spirit of sleep is still going its airy
rounds, but Reginald, afraid of waking
his patient, sits quietly waiting the dawn,
when he is relieved by a kind neighbor.
CHAPTER VII.
Whether to atone for the words spoken
the night of Irene’s arrival to please him
self or his mother, Irene could hardly de
termine.
Whatever it might be, “mine host” dur
ing the next few weeks was extremely
agreeable.
He played the devoted cavalier on all
occasions.
AVhile Irene enjoyed all this attention,
she knew that his flatteries sprung from
no deeper place than his lips, and knew,
too, that he meant she should so under
stand them. Still Irene enjoyed the at
tention of a man so popular as Dr. May
field, beside he stood still higher in her
own regard, if she did not hate him for
having the bad taste to prefer another
woman to herself. Beside he was serving
her object well in thus paying her public
homage. Perhaps her sudden fancy for
her valuable friend, Flora Yanncey, had a
part in her little plan, for she made her a
confidant; the faded picture and its story
was on the impulse of the moment
brought up and discussed, together with
some vague descriptions of the coming
bride. That evening the valuable Flora
met another valuable friend ana discussed
the story ad libitum.
Long before Pauline came to her home
Ireue’s plan was planted, watered and
putting forth leaves.
The day dawned beautifully clear. The
sun’s rays were casting golden tints upon
the tall pine trees. The feathered song
sters threatened to burst their throats
with their glad songs. Every ripple that
dimpled the bosom of the country brooks
danced aud sparkled with unwonted glee.
The fields and hedges were full of sum
mer’s sweetest offspring.
Flowers of every hue and color were
scattered as if by a lavish hand. How
beautiful and sympathetic nature seems
when the heart is all aglow with love’s
young dream.
Reginald had come for his “nut-brown
maidee.” As they gather in the plain lit
tle parlor of the parsonage let us look at
these two, who are about to take the most
solemn yows in life, more closely than we
yet have done. Pauline was tall, but not
too tall for grace. Her form exquisitely
round and supple—her arms, hands and
shoulders seemed to have been moulded
by beauty’s own castings. Her forehead
vvas broad but not too high. Her nose
was the perfection of a just mingling of
the Grecian and Roman. Her eyes were
brown, large and liquid and expressive of
benevolence, and gave evidence that the
emotions of the heart were lofty and no
ble. Frank to a fault, ’twas the very
quality Reginald loved her most for.
Dressed as he had begged, in white, he
thought her lovely as an angel. Dr. May
field was not wha't one would call strictly
handsome, but the expression ot his face
denoted a high order of intellect and at
tainments; big eyes were dark ancl large.
Jlis countenance was stamped with the
open, generous spirit of an honorable
man. If faults are a part of their being,
as well as many virtues, let time find
them out. Their bridal day is no time to
display them. A few solemn words and
all is over. A tew tears gathered into Pau
line’s eyes, but as soon a3 Mr. Malcom
gave his blessing, he took her iu his arms
and kissed them away.
“No tears, Pauline, mine,” but he
turned aside to hide his own.
Will was there full of college airs, but
really much improved, and gave promise
of making a man of himsell. After kiss
ing his sister he told her he had always
had a horrid fear she would be an old
maid, and used to watch anxiously for
her beaux; but now,” he added, “that I
know vou’re nearly lost to me, I’m selfish
enough to wish you had been an old
maid.”
“No, Will,” answered Reginald, “she
shall not be lost to you; you must spend
all your vacations with us, and she shall
always be the same to you, and I hope we
shall be brothers;” this so kindly that
Will’s heart is won on the spot.
Mike. Yvho had claimed the privilege of
being at the wedding, now came up
dressed in his best suit, with a huge red
cravat and green vest. A brass watch
chain completed his toilet. He blubbered
out:
“Miss Pauline, de Lord knows I’ve
went so fur as to say a thousand times I’d
never leave my folks. Now dey is all gone
and leff poor old Mike.”
“Never mind, Mike; you stay at the old
home and make lots of money to send
Will to college; take care of Carlo and
the horses, and when AVill gets through
college you shall come to live with me al
ways.”
Still muttering the old man left only half
satisfied.
A few ot her village friends hastened to
wish her well, tnen the good-byes are all
said; for Pauline had run out long enough
to change her bridal dress lor one suita
ble for" traveling. Tom and Jerry are
again called into service to carry them to
the depot. After a last blessing from the
man of God. and tender words from aunt
Martha. Yvho has placed Pauline quite
next to Tabby in her loving heart; she
now says good-bye with tears of grief,
but mingled ivith 'pleasure that it is her
favorite Reginald who is conveying her
away.
Soon, the last farewell spoken, the two
are carried swiftly out of sight. Looking
hack Pauline sees Mike throwing an old
shoe after them, then a shotver of rice.
“For our good luck, Reginald,” she
laughingly explains.
"You don’t belieie then that‘we make
ourselves the path wherein we tread?’”
“Wedo to some extent, but not always;
things are constantly occurring which we
cannot change or control, no matter how
much we may desire to.”
“Always be your own frank, sweet self,
my darling, and I am sure no ill luck will
spring up in our path. May it always be
a happy one for you. my love.”
“Do you know l feel something like a
thiel ? Here I have gone off and stolen a
modest little wood violet, who has always
cast her sweetness on the lonely woods
with but one solitary admirer.”
"If you had been tnrown in the world,
how many rivals I would have had!’’
“Perhaps. Mr. Modesty, your assertions
are two sweeping,” Pauline gaily replied.
-Is it not true, then.” he added, incon
sistent man, in a disappointed tone, "that
1 have been your only lover?”
“I have never loved but you.” she ear
nestly replied.
Dr. Mayfield carried his wife to Sara
toga and to the principal cities North.
He wished to gratify her, to let her see
something of the world, and perhaps he
wished to accustom her to the ways of
fashionable life before carryingher to bear
the criticism of Irene and of her circle of
friends; but, to do him justice, he never
feared the result. t
After a stay of two months the travel
ers turned homeward.
Pauline was anxious to see his home so
soon to be hers. She sometimes thought it
strange her husband had said so little
to her of his home and its inmates. Many
questions she asked, but such short little
answers she received she felt little courage
to continue them.
One day Reginald came In the room with
his mail—one of the prettiest rooms, by
the way, iu the St. Nicholas.
••Here, darling, is a letter from Doug
lass; he hasinclesed one for you. I know
you will love Douglass.”
Pauline eagerly opened her letter, and
read its delicate and brotherly contents.
“Hoyv kind in him to write to me,
and then how sweetly he writes, too. 1
know. Reginald, I will love your brother—
I do already; and now please, as we are
going home*, tell me all about it and about
your" stepmother; won’t you, dear?”
"I want you to wait. Pauline mine, un
til the very moment your own sweet eyes
can describe everything to your own satis
faction. I will tell you, however, that I
have done my very best to make a sweet,
lovely cage for my birdie. Will you wait.
now ?”
“Yes, Twillingly, you kind Reginald.
You are bound to quite spoil me, I see.”
“As to my stepmother, she is auite a
model housekeeper, they tell me; but don’t
dare. Pauline, to emulate her examples. I
like to 6ee a paper or so scattered once in
a while, like pleasure and freedom were a
part of one’s life, as well as order and
propriety. Mother is also quite a stylish,
fine-looking woman for her age. She is.
however, quite cold and proud, and I fear
will not add very much to your happi
ness, though Pm sure she will not detract
from it. My father left her in my care,
and although he might have more proper
ly left me in hers, still she has always
been.shown the outward respect a i least
due from her sons. Don’t look east down.
Pauline; she can’t help but be fond of
you. She has a niece—a young widow—
who is visiting her now. I hope you will
be friends; she can be such a help to you
in many ways. Y'ou had better pack now,
darling, and I’ll go out and order a car
riage. Be ready in two hours, and we
will take a last drive to Central Park. If
you don’t finish packing. I’ll help you to
night. 1 shall order another trunk, too, for
your new dresses are to be brought in the
morning.”
“Reginald, there is but one dress, and I
can find room for it in our trunks.”
“Well, well; you know I have a good
many more articles I must pack, so take
care of the trunk when it comes.”
Kissing the sweet lips so dear to him, he
leaves her.
She, opening wardrobe and drawers, is
soon folding and packing their clothes,
and many pretty things they have bought
from time to time. Her thoughts are full
of her home so far away, but "which she is
soon to enter among so many strangers.
“I do wish we had a little cottage all to
ourselves; but I couldn’t tell Reginald so.
He is attached to the old homestead. I’ve
heard him say; then, too, perhaps, he is
not able to keep up two homes. Anyway,
1 6hall have Reginald, and that is enough
for me.”
With a merry, happy heart she contin
ues her work. Reginald has always spoken
to Pauline ol his success in a very light
manner, and she has plenty of faith in his
future, but believes him to be just now
a young doctor, who must use economy
and wait for time and practice for a recog
nition from the world.
She has no thought that he has already
become one of the most illustrous physi
cians in the South, and far less idea that
he has by his own work achieved a for
tune.
Mr. Malcom knew how well his fa
vorite was marrying, but lorebore to en
lighten her, as Reginald had requested
that he would not allow her to believe he
was rich.
Reginald Mayfield studied his profession
with zest and energy. This YY’as not all—
he had a passionate love for the work; in
a word, he was a natural physician, and
his success necessarily was great.
A few more hours and they are nearly
home. The trees and lences fly quickly
by; settlements, factories, houses pass
tuicker and faster as on they go.
A shrill whistle and a sudden jerk of the
bell denotes that they have arrived at their
destination.
_ Soon from the bustling crowd Reginald
finds Sam, who takes them to a car
riage, new and beautifully bright; the
horses are gentle and kind.
“My gift to my darling,” he said, as he
carefully placed her into the carriage.
"You are too good, Reginald,” she cried.
“I hope I shall have the sweet pleasure of
making you as happy as you do me.”
“You do, Pauline,” he returned, very
t nderly, “and if we were at home I’d
give you many kisses for tliose sweet
words.”
A few minutes more and Sam is driving
through a large gate aud going up the
smooth carriage w r ay towards Laurel Hill.
“Reginald, have you made no mistake—
is this Laurel Hill?”
‘;Yes, dear, this is our home; welcome
to its boundaries,” he said, and kissed ber
in spite ot Sajn’s presence. “Meet them
all, clear, in your own sweet way, and all
will be right.”
Pauline noticed, hoYvever, that he looked
at her anxiously, and she dreaded far more
than he knew the ordeal before her.
If he expected his mother to coolly ig
nore her or to treat her with disdain, he
found he was mistaken.
Mrs. Mayfield, dressed elegantly in black
silk, advanced to meet them. Her words
were cordial, if the tone was not, and
Reginald tvas grateful.
[to kk continued.]
FALLEN ROYALTY.
The Ex-Empress Eugenie and Her Re
cent Visit to Paris.
I’arig Letter to London Truth.
The Empress Eugenie spent a sad vreek
with the Duchesse de Mouchy in her new
house near the Hotel des Invalides. She
was attracted to the scenes of her former
triumphs, went to look at the balcony of
the Ecole Militaire, where she witnessed
so many reviews in imperial state, was at
Longchamps, St. Cloud, in the Tuilerles
Gardens, and everywhere passed almost
unnoticed. Her cousin, M. de Lesseps,
hastened from Berry to pay his respects
to her. She was paid many visits, but
was not in a mood to receive any but old
and valued friends. It is not at all true
that she wants to make peace between
her cousin, Prince Napoleon, and his
eldest son, whom she calls her petit
nereu. She was very much agitated in
going over the theatre on which the im
perial drama was played by her and the
Emperor. But her general attitude was
that of a person Yvho through much suf
fering has come almost to be insensible.
Her complexion is bleached as her hair.
The eyes of pale blue hai-e lost the faculty
of lighting up. It would be hard to say
whether they express indifference to most
things or resignation. But they look as
if they had cried so much that" no more
tears were lett in them. The Empress
drove about in a plain coupe. She was
always in black crape and merino. Her
figure has lost all flexibility, and though
the Carlsbad xvaters were of service to
her, she has the stiff ivalk that rheuma
tism or the weight of years gives.
The outlines of the shoulders, how
ever, retain some of the it* J for
mer elegance. As the adherents
of Prince Victor are anxious to organize
an electoral campaign by next year, and
io obtain pecuniary assistance from the
Empress, the house of the Duchesse de
Mouchy was closely watched when she
was there. If the world has not gone
from her, she has lost al! taste for it. The
seclusion of Farnborough sometimes
weighs upon her. Nevertheless, she said
she would be glad to return to it after her
continental trip. At Carlsbad she refused
all exceptional honors and favors, lived
quietly at an hotel, and took her place in
a queue at tbe pump. Her old vHacity
has died out. If it had not, she would try
to subjugate it, lor she ascribes to her
impetuous disposition the culminating
error ol the Emperor’s reign, and another
event lor which she will mourn as long as
life and consciousness remain to her. \She
ftas the generosity to admit the errors
of judgment into which she was hur
ried, and which were attended with dis
astrous consequences both for her family
and the nation ever which, by an as
tounding freak of fortune, she became the
sovereign. The Empress still thinks
aloud, and talks often and rapidly of what
is on her mind. She ill bears any mental
tension, unless in religious exercises, and
has not the resources of music, em
broidery, knitting, or sewing, which
enabled Marie Amelie to beguile the
tedium of a residence at Claremont. Her
infirmity prevents her walking as much
as she wishes. She lives altogether at
Farnborougb in the past and among ob
jects reminding her of departed glories of
the Emperor and of. her ill-starred son, of
whom she can now speak without falling
into proxysms of grief. The inner
woman is chastened bv affliction, and the
outer woman faded; hut she is more in
teresting, perhaps, than when she had the
prestige ot beauty, a throne, and (exter
nally) the most brilliant court in Europe.
I have heard her compared to Henrietta
Maria, who also had reason to deplore the
impetuosity of her disposition. That
(jueen, however, had a trial in her old
age to which the Empress has not been
subject. She lived in France when she
was discrowned (jueen and widow in dire
poY r erty. Her house at Bois Colombes
Yvas in the marshy part of a wind-swept
plain, and being too poor to buy firewood,
she had to stay in bed in ivinter to keep
herself warm.
100n b Men t Read This.
The Voltaic Belt Company, of Marshall,
Mich., offer to send their celebrated Elec
tro-Voltaic Belt and other Electric Ap
pliances on trial for thirty days to men
(young or old) afflicted with nervous de
bility, loss of vitality and manhood, and
all kindred troubles. Also for rheuma
tism, neuralgia, paralysis, and many
other diseases. Complete restoration to
health, vigor and manhood guaranteed.
No risk is incurred as thirty days trial is
allowed. Write them at once for illus
trated pamphlet free.— Adv.
!tttt>prtttfav, Ctr.
B. F. McKEHNA & CO.
WINTER UNDERWEAR.
W T E are receiving direct from the mills full
11 lines of All Wool and Merino Under
vests, and have now on sale our first consign
ment, consisting of a variety of grades for
ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls—prices ac
cording to qualities from 25 cents to $2 50.
Also, for gentlemen, several grades of All
Wool and fine Lamb’s Wool.
Medicated Scarlet Shirts.
An exceptionally good and heavy Scarlet
Shirt at sl.
Blankets & Flannels,
We were represented at the mammoth auc
tion sales of Blankets and Flannels in New
York, and secured some of the
Best Bargains at Those Ruin
ous Sales.
We will distribute these goods to our cus
tomers at a moderate advance.
Suiting Flannels, Fancy Plaid Flannels,
Basket Flannels, Opera Flannels, in a great
number of colors.
Hosiery,
Handkerchiefs.
Ladies’ and Children’s Real French Ribbed
Ilose. in fall color j.
Ladies’ and Children’s German and English
Ribbed Ilose, in fall colors.
Ladies’ and Children’s Balbriggan Hosiery,
unbleached and colors.
All of these first-class regular stockings we
are offering at very low prices for such goods.
We are also offering „omc job lots in Chil
dren’s regularly made Hosiery at 10c. and 15c.
Ladies’ and Gentlemen’s Linen Handker
chiefs —Hemstitched, Plain Hemmed, Printed
Bordered—in the latest designs, and a great
variety of styles, from 10c. up.
CORSETS !
Our Corset Department has been very much
enlarged,and to meet the demands of the diver
sified views of wearerj, us to the best article,
we keep a variety of the best makes of French
and American Hand-made and Woven Cor
sets.
The “Baodetti” Corset, which we sell at
50c., is extraordinary for the price.
Gentlemen's FmMini Goods
Dress Shirts, Laundried and Unlaundried,
at 50c., 65c., 75c. and sl.
The “Crown” Shirt (price $1), made of the
best quality of shirting, 2100 linen in bosom,
patent back and perfect fitting, gives great
satisfaction to wearers, and grows in popu
larity daily.
Onr 75 cents Shirt is a first rate article, and
our 50 cents Shirt is more than could be rea
sonably expected for the price
We keep a full assortment of Gentlemen’s
Caffs and Collars.
B.F.MCKEIA&CQ.
£mttiolitno ®ooftg.
New Ms, New Scarfs and Ties.
LaFar,
HATTER and FURNISHER
Has opened the latest in
Searls, Ties and Hosiery,
And has been appointed Sole Agent in Sa
vannah for
Dunlap BtCo. and Knoi’s fine Hats,
And keeps a full assortment on hand.
TITE have the best assortment of Gent’s b.
s. Handkerchiefs, in colored bordered
and plain.
The Diamond Shirt at sl, Wamsutta Muslin,
4-yily bosoms.
Children’s Velvet and Cloth Polo Caps and
Hats.
The best line of Boys’ Cloth Hats we have
ever shown, 50c. to sl.
Fine Silk Umbrellas, Buggy Umbrellas.
A fine line of
BUGGY ROBES AND BLANKETS.
All Wool and Merino Underwear, both red
and white.
Canton Flannel Undershirts.
Satchels, Valises and Walking Canes.
Fine Driving Gloves and the celebrated
Trefoussi Kid Glove.
—AT—
LA EAR’S,
23 BULL STREET.
girt ZJoflo, (Sratco, etc.
FIRE UP!
FIRE SETS,
FIRE DOGS,
COAL IIODS,
NURSERY
AND
GRATE
FENDERS, Etc.
CROCKERY HOUSE OF
JAS. S, SILVA.
(Tot) attft Zaisri] (Sooftg.
Preparing for the Holidays.
T>Y the first of next month all of onr for-
IJ eign importations will have arrived. The
selections are unsurpassed, and consist of the
latest novelties in the Toy and Fancy Goods
departments. We would call particular at
tention to our large and beautiful collection of
Christmas ani New Year’s Cards
from the leading manufacturers of England
and Germany.
Schreiner’s Importing House.
fUitictt HJello, etc.
XIfRED KENT, 13 W l *iU
*West Broad street, J
calls attention of the jffi
public that he has a JfcS BssSHfi
comiietent corps of H
mechanics, and is pre-m
pared to Repair,Paint, %
Trim and Build VE- Jrcjjßl
IIICLES of every des- fijggMk m
cription;also, HORSE- ffjl V
PUMPS and DRIV
EN WELLS a specialty.
Jh RIP fl PFI r p * ,nle ** im core. Book KN
rAnltiVVfal.il CITUI* At.BCf, teormtoß
Itooto, Ctt.
Rosenheim's Shoe Bazaar 1
URGE STOCK-LOW PIES!
Finest Shoes in Savannah!
NEW GOODS BY EVERY STEAMER
Largest Stock Trunks and Bags!
CALL AND EXAMINE.
JOS. ROSENHEIM & CO.,
141 CONGRESS STREET.
COLLAT BROS.,
140 BROUGHTON STREET. 140.
The if ShoealGitstt Erase!
OUR stock was specially made to order for us. Having just opened, every article is as fresh
as fresh can be.
Desiring to deserve the patronage of the public, we have selected only such qualities ox
goods, and of such standard makes, as can only be found in a first-class Northern house.
Every well-known or celebrated Shoe Manufacturer will be found represented in our stock
and as we have determined to sell at New York prices, we have adopted their rule, namely
We shall sell at
The Very Lowest Possible Prices!
And Strictly for Cash!
Every article is marked in PLAIN FIGURES, hence it is a guarantee for honest dealing.
PLEASE BEAR IN MIND,
Our stock of Ladies’, Children’s and Gents’ SHOES were selected with the greatest care, and
our variety and styles arc as complete as long busines xperience and sound judgment can
make it.
In addition thereto we carry a thoroughly complete line of
Trunks, Yalises, Club and Tourist Bags!
Our Assortment of Gents’ Hats
Is the choicest and nobbiest in the city, and OUR PRICES ARE THE LOWEST.
Give us a trial, and we are bound to please yon.
Bear in mind, we are cot old fogies! We are enterprising men, and mean business.
COLLAT B R 08.,
duv-prutittr SStillo. __ _
111 I ! TICKET FORIBB4.
THE SEAMLESS TURPENTINE STILL,
TI7ITH A PLATFORM DECLARED AGAINST LEAKS, which will cause A LARGE IN-
I' CREASE, over all other makes, of both Spirits and Rosin to the operator. The cause
of the great increase in Naval Stores last year mav not be from over-production of the Crude
Turpentine, but from the great saving from leaks by the general use of
McMillan Bros.’ Seamless Turpentine Still!
We have THIRTY-FIVE NEW and SECOND-HAND STILLS, from Twelve to Thirtvlßar
rels capacity, together with a large assortment of EXTRA WORMS, CAPS, ARMS, EXTRA
STILL BOTTOMS, GRATE BARS, DOORS, GLUE KETTLES and all kinds of STILL TRIM
MINGS. REPAIRS through the country a specialty. As now is the time to place your orders
for STILLS, call on or address McMILLAN BKOS.,
SAVANNAH, GA., or FAYETTEVILLE, N. C.
fcattjcr, Cruttlto, etc.
Rubber, Leather and Gandy Belting,
GUM, HEMP and USUDURIAN PACKING, GIN ROLLER STRIPS and BRISTLES, RAW
HIDE and OIL LACING,
SADDLES, HARNESS and COLLARS,
Bridles, Hames, Trace Chains,
Trunks, Bags and Satchels
' IN ALL QUALITIES AND STYLES.
E. L. NEIDUNGER, SON & €O.,
(56 ST. JULIAN & 153 BRYAN STS., SAVANNAH, CA.
HARNESS AND TRUNKS REPAIRED WITH NEATNESS AND DISPATCH.
sJrott lllovito.
KEHOE’S IRON WORKS !
(FORMERLY PII CENTS IRON WORKS),
SAVANNAH, - - - GEORGIA.
*i -f WE desire to call particular attention to the SUGAR MILDS
AND PANS of our manufacture. These Mills are made in the
iV best possible manner, with neavy wrought iron shafts, and rollers
Kg of the best charcoal pig iron, all turned up
A If true. They are strong and durable, run per
[l fectly even, and are guaranteed to grind the IgyAiSiHHMF
fully-matured cane. Our Pans being
s&wfy£3g*lfcjftMcast with the bottoms down possess smooth
•r - Taßness, durability and uniformity of thickness
fe v .nll’flB far superior to those made in the usual way.
All our Mills are fully Warranted for One Year, and our
iT PRICES ARE GUARANTEED TO BE AS LOW AS ANY
B B OFFERED.
YV >l. KEHOE A CO.
V. B. —The Name Kehoc’s Iron Works is cast on all our Mills and Pans.
ffarviagro, garttcoo, ©tr.
SALOMON" COHEN’S
CARRIAGE AND WAGON REPOSITORY,
CORXER BAY AND MONTGOMERY STREETS,
Where can be found a large and well selected stock of CARRIAGES and BUGGIES, which
will be sold at reduced prices. Also will call the attention of
NAVAL STORES MANUFACTURERS
TO two car-loads of WAGONS just received, all of the best manufacturers and modern
Improvements. lam determined to sell, and only ask parties in need of Vehicles to
call and examine my stock and prices.
Also, a full line of DOUBLE and SINGLE HARNESS.
jffo&a iUatrr, Ctr. _
MIKE T. OUINAN.
MANUFACTURER and Bottler of Belfast
Ginger Ale, Cream Soda, Soda, Sarsapa
rilla and Mineral Waters generally, is now
prepared to supply any demand. My goods,
being prepareef from chemically pure water
and extracts,defy competition. Having ample
facilities for filling country orders, I only ask
a trial from those doing business outof townto
demonstrate what I can do in shipping prompt
ly. Syrups of all kinds furnished. Order;
from physicians for highly charged Siphons
for sick patiente filled at any hour of the da?
or night.
Day—Factory, 110 and 112 Broughton street.
Night—Residence, 8# £ rough tor street.
Soda stands using fountains w save money
y ordering from me.
Seer.
Budweiser BeeTT
flnheuser Beer,
Fresh Shipments Arriving Every Week
From the famous Anheuser-Busch Brewing
Association, St. Louis.
THE flattering reception with which these
two pure and wholesome products of the
most celebrated brewery in America have
met with in all countries proves that genuine
merit will always command hearty support.
Orders for these beers in any quantity will
be promptly filled. Respectfully,
GEO. MEYER, Sole Agent,
142 Bay street*.
3