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lt DAS ISCARIOT
BY CYRUS SHEAVE,
it) (Be nalnown ay's i-r<- time began.
Kre earth was form'd, or God created man;
Kreisn bad thrown o er man itsshadnw—woe,
The curse of Cain wan stamp'd upon my trow.
Though yet unborn, my doom pronounc'd on
high
Upon tbe wings of Tune, awift see rad to ny.
Till weary ■>( us ilium ol many year-,
it song hi me cottage, where, :ih hitler
tears.
Sty mother gave me litrth ’misfortune’* heir}.
And Mercy wept to**: itenier there
She clothed it hateful form with misty tear-,
bo that Its shallow through the coming yean
yeti not athwart the pathwav of my life.
Sait whisper'd aught of sm > tierce, deadly ,
start fe.
X waa as joyous, tree, aeamne will bird
Whose happy heart seemhl aweetij, sirangely i
•H" 5 ? ... ....
Till -t o’erfloWd in a wdd bur* of taof-
JlndreMii of evil, hi <f no though t of wrong.
Ik'fer oarne those gvldtn hour* to reeks less
bright, .. . ,
Or wiih Ueepeorrow cJonJ tbe r< s r Mgol
That like* baiu round my young ale "bore,
And oven now, when every i,oue liv. Down.
And nought there seems beyond, but Heath a
dark aifrM. . . .
Still iu my dreams doth mem ry take her
And 11 ves a moment brief, fboee bright days
o’er.
Once tti to I stum) witbin that cotuga door;
A iair-bair' ib>y 1 wem again to be.
Kneeling at beside my mot tier's knee.
And suit I lisp my simple evening prajr’r.
JiiU waiting aim* s ws.t .1 to bad s ihrone.
Or wh.l that child aoccrs’d, to I tear alone
The overflowing inexHnre of H’S wrath'-
And did ins fuel perver-e v seek the rtiad
That led h* soui from beav’n and from Go<C-
Jlnt ainee those happy days isng years have
flown:
The thoughtless child to man’s estate has
grow n.
And’round his sadden’d life strange fears
have come.
And ghostly forms move in the gath'ring
gloom.
Yet w hen the Master call'd, bope lived again
And call’d to life the joys that long had lain
Within that heart, and said, poor heart re
joice.
For there is pence and pardon in His voice.
To untried souls, te npiatieu ever seems
A fleeting shadow, a* ti.e silvery beams
tit virtue shine o’er iife’e &teep way.
Making et n pathway br.ght as sun-lit day.
Celt-righteous sou*sdi-dsin the tempter’s ■•all,
And pity not the verettu who pares Pi fail.
The tempted only know what deep despair
Where all seems lost, and God teems deaf to
pray’r.
80 pray’d I ere that last and scene bet an.
Ills lip’s touch'd mine, thro’ heart and brain
there ran
A lost soul’s crv. I beard the dis'ant knell
That rat.g lay doom lliro' hta.en. earth, and >
hell.
The struggle cci-'d, and demons, dark and
dire,
Pnnr'd thro' my weary send s.n's liquid (Ire,
And urg’d me in wild deeds to outstrip all
And Go : duty, who had decreed my fail.
Have I, alas!’ the life 1 f Jesus sold '
iie 1 the price within this weak band hold'- 1
Gan prav ror hope e’er pierce yon frowning
sky''
Is all forever lost, can I but die?
Wni'e in tbe shallow of the grave l stand,
Jt seems tbe angels in that better land
Weep o’er the sou! whom Tbe Most High.
Tire the beginning, had thus doom’d to die.
IllorntnQ ?.Uiua Srriaio.
MAGDALEN,
—THE—
Overseer’s Daughter.
BY MAT CBIM,
4UTHOK OF “THE HEATHERCOTES’’ AND
“UIKK-Ol'f HALL.”
‘Copyrighted In 1886 by J. H. F.ntill]
CHAPTER XXII.
Magdalen persuaded her father to leave
fbenext mornlDg, bright and early.
“if we do not stay too long here, we
can stop at other places on our route.”
•‘That’a true, but young < ammack
said he'd call round this morning. Don’t
you think—”
She brought her troubled face round
within view of bis eves and gave him a
glimpse into ber real feelings.
“Fader I do not want to see him.
Please go with me before be comes.”
“Why yes, certainly, you never shall
wee him again if you do not want to. 1
did not know my girl, I did not that you
eared very much about it.”
hhe saw his surprise and distress and
remembering Sister Anyeiique aud her
words, she put aside self.
“1 may not, but do not let it trouble
you. W e are going to have a gay holiday
this winter tou and I, and see what a
Georgia Christmas Is like.”
fvbe smiled so brightly, his momentary
lears wore allayed, aud her allusion to a
Georgia Chi i sup as set his thoughts off on
anew track.
“They used to be pretty jolly. It has
tieeti so long since 1 spent one there 1 do
liot know how many changes have conic
to pass.”
It was' yet early when ttiev gathered
their belonging* together and lelt the
boardiug-bousu. Magdalen glanced out
of the carriage window, just as they
turned the tirst corner ami saw ner lover
■walking down towards the house tbov had
)ust left. Her cheeks whitened and her
"yes tilled with a longing anguished light,
it was the last time she ever expected to
look on liis face. Sne thought it the final
wrench, and when the tirst shock had
passed p-beset her face steadily to the tu
ture. All through the shifting, changing
scenes of the journey, and the alter
weeks and months among her father’s re
latives aud friends; she taught herself
the lesson o( s* i,-sacrifice: she learned to
put her ow n grief aside and minister to
tue comfort ot others, and found peace
wnd a certain contentment.
CHAPTER XXIII.
tVar had l>eu declared. The contest of
words had ended, and the opposing sec
lions resorted to arms to settle the dis
puted question. Many had long expected
•uch an end and there were jet many
tbers who had not. To thelormer the
call to arms was but a long looked
for continuation of peiulii! doubts
•nd tears, to the skeptical it proved a
Shock. From plains to Florida the air
quivered with excitement, and Northern
and Southern hearts thrilled with an
guish.
Mr. C’ammack'a overseer had extended
bn holiday, and even talked of resting
(the whole year, but wbeu his countrymen
wvere called on to dolcml their rights, he
hastened hack across the Mississippi to
Ins Louisiana home, set his affairs in or
der aud offered his services to tho govern
ment.
Magdalen prayed to ”o with him.
“Nay, my sweet girl, you must nay
fficre with old Manse or else go back to
cur friends Iti Georgia. What could vou
do in tbe ariiiy ?”
“Nurse the Mick and the wounded.
My nerve* are strong, my hHmts and
heart willing. Please lake me with you,”
suecri"d clinging to him with tears and
to treaties.
Hut ho could not bear the thought of ex
(losing her to rough army life, and so re
mained Arm in hia refusal. Ilwasabit
ler dav, when she saw him walk up tho
lane bis haver-sack on bis shoulder.
He had kissed ber and called on heaven to
bless and protect her in his absence, hut
at first she could uotscc her way clear to
any other loro, or care except bis, and
when he had passed from sight, she went
lo her mother’s grave there to weep and
find comfort.
The Cam macks were very kind, and
tried to vain ber consent to.come up and
live with them until the struggle should
end, but sue gently, though firmly de
clined. I
•Manse and l will live down in the!
,l *• homo to me.**
wion* u > l > * not swod for a girl to live
Wm e,” said v^.Caminack.
tears ’> 1 1,01 l have no j
‘•But we are desolate.” cried Cordelia
“Lawrence aud Henry are both in \ ir
irinia. Do come Magdalen.”
I Bnt she would not he persuaded, and
relumed totbe bumble litDe house which
had !> eti home to her since her birth.
Tue tirst few weeks she did not know
w hat to do, bow to spend the heavy hours
; oi tee long days, but gradually her duty
unfolded itself jdainly to her. If she
• could nut he of service in the camps and
hospitals, she could iearn to spin and
weave clothing tor her father and his
comrades.
,
j
!
|
j
i
!
!
'
it did not take-long to get a loom and a
wheel,and toe bouse women atCammack’s
taught her bow to use them.
“It is all nonsense, a sheer waste of
time,” cried Mrs. Cammack impatiently.
••I am really provoked with you Magda
len. 1 had no Idea you could be so will
ful. so stubborn.”
“Dear madam, the day may come
when necessity will iorce me to such em
ployment. Then I would rather know
bow to spin, and weave than to learn it.”
8o the bum of tue wueel and the click
click of the abuttle sounded all day from
the overseer’s cottage, but in the eTeniag
Magdalen walked out, aud after night
tall she studied her books or sewed.
She did not spend much lime at the
mansion, bnt Cordelia fell into the habit
of stealing down there to wile away toe
time. She hod no occupation and the
days dragged slowly to ner. She bad
never been used to career anxiety, and
she grew thin and ghostly white, fretting
for her brother and lover.
“1 cannot bear it much longer, 1 am
sure. The suspense will kill me,” she
said sitting down on the floor and leaning
fc'T head against Magdalen’s knee. Old
Manse dozed over a light wood flame in
the kitchen, and the two girls were alone.”
I have come down lo spend the night
with you Magdalen. Put up your work
and salk to me. Comfort me, for my
heart is heavy with dread.”
Magdalen caressed the head resting on
her lap.
“1 know not what to say, dear friend.
I have of late been seeking strength and .
consolation from certain Bible lessons, i
We must remember others suffer also, I
and in asking help tor them, our own
burdens will be lightened.”
“Do you feel restless and anxious, .
dreading the worst all the time? You
are so silent and calm, I cannot under
stand you.”
“Yes, my heart aches every day, but
my work keeps me from torturing myself
with vain imaginings.”
Cordelia raised her head and looked at
the true lovely face above her.
“Magdalen tell toe truly now, did
grandpa aud mamma keep you from
marrying Lawrence? 1 have tried and
tried to talk to you about it, butsome how
1 never could bring up the subject at the
right time.”
Magdalen controlled her features, but
she could not keep that sudden flame of
color out of ber face nor the sad paleness,
which succeeded.
“1 have no cause to speak falsely Cor
delia. Your mother did ask me to
promise.”
“And you did promise.”
“Yes. could I do otherwise?”
“No, but you might have thought of
him.”
“I did think of him.”
“Do you think of him now Magdalen?”
“Do not question me any tanner, Cor
delia.”
“No i will not, but let me tell you or.e
thing. I would rather have you for my
sister than any other woman living. 1
used to think that Lawrence and Alea
would marry some day. but after she
came up here last year, I began to doubt
it, and when Henry told me that brother
loved you, I understood wby I doubted. I
wish they would come home and your fa
ther, too. I declare the place seems
Strang" without him.”
His (laughter made no reply. Her de
sires were too deep and strong to be fully
expressed. She tried to endure quietly,
and watt patiently, trusting in God’s
mercy for the best. Poor Magdalen, she
had not yet tasted the bitterest draught
In her cup of Hie.
The day she packed up the first home
spun, home-made garments she had fin
ished for ber lather, was one to be re
membered a long time, she felt so proud
of her work, so glad she had not spent
tue summer in idle repining. Bhe folded
a tender loving note in each piece aud'
smiled us she tried to imagine how he
would look, what be would say as he ilis
cot ered the messages, one by one.
“I do not know that you will need
what 1 send dear father, but perhaps the
clothes will help some poor unfortunate
soldier through the winter,” shs wrote in
one note.
She sent her gift by Mr. Farrar and
when he bade her good-bye he asked her
to oe bis wile for the last time. He never
broached the subject again. She did not
like to pain him, but she could not hesi
tate over her answer. Sbe made ber
final rejection as gently and kindly as
she could, but it was plain and firm. He
understood the hopelessness of bis suit
and went away, and troubled her no
more. Her father’s thanks and praises
other handiwork were warm and heart
felt. No one else ahould wear the gar
ments but himself and he would always
remember his dear girl us the best and
most thoughtful in the world. Magdalen
read and re-read the letter until she knew
all its loving words by heart. She work
ed steadily ou, preparing for a day of poa
slble need, tor instead of the first blood
shed bringing peace, it only made the
struggle fiercer. The fury of tha contend
ing brothers wuxed hotter.
Mr. Cammack prophesied a speedy end
ing ot the war. The \ ankees would soon
get tired of fighting and let the Squib
alone.
“We can manage our own affairs with
out meddling, and they will find it out,”
he said, confidently.
Alasf he could not make bis words
true simply because he wished them so,
and at last he grew uneasy aud spent
many a miserable hour shut up in Ins li
brary reading the papers.while bis daugh
ter-in-law wore out her life, brooding
over the danger ber son was exposed to
every day.
Miss Valcours came up later in tbe fall,
but sbe did not remain long; the bouse
was too dull stui cheerless. Mrs. Cum
msek urged her tn remain.
“We are so desolate now, do stay with
s, Alga.”
u “My dear aunty, 1 wish 1 could, but
fally the loneliness and gloom would be
H'o trying to me. 1 have promised to
•pend a few weeks with some Iriends In
Jackson, Miss. The influence of the whole
country is ho depressing 1 think it is my
duty to seek the gayost society I can
find.”
ho sbe packed her silks and laces, and
kissed ber relatives with melancholy ef.
fusiou, and shook the dust ot Cammack
oil' her darn tv boots.
“A good riddance.” said Cordelia, wlih
frank contempt. "Heartless creature!
As if sensible, right-miuded people could
care for lolly and fashion when their dear
outs are off fighting every day and sleep
ing on the ground every" night! It is a
shame!”
Tbey grew more anxious as tbe days
passed, for they could hear no more from
Lawrence and Henry, but one evening us
Magdalen came from the graveyard,
where shs had lieen clearing tbe "dead
leaves ofl her mother’s grave, she met
Ike. and the illy-suppressed excitement
Hud importance of tus manner attracted
ber attention.
“Where are you going, Iko F”
“To get pins fer the kitchen. They er’
fixin’ up to-night, 1 cun toll yer.”
“Wby, who bas come?” she quickly
asked.
“Marso Lawrence and Mareo Henry.
They er’ dim’ wild up tode bouse. Hur
rah ler tbe gray soldiers!” be swung hi*
bat arouud and scampered ofl through tbe
woods in quest of pine-knots—tbe staple
light oi tbe poulh.
SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MARCH 28, 1886.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Magdalen had promised to spend the
eyeainy with her friend, hut after bearing
that news she went home, hbe paused a
moment in the lane and glanced over the
fence. A sort of joyful excitement seem
ed to animate everything about the house,
and she went on to her own silent, lonely
home, her heart aching for a sight of her
father. Surely, surely, he would come
soon.
She sat by the clean-swept hearth, be
fore a warm, crackling dre, with a book
open on her lap, when Cordelia ran in,
rudiaat, glowing with life and color.
“I slipped away just for a moment to
tell you, and to get yon to come up. Oh!
Magdalen! rejoice with me!"
"I do with all mv heart. You are a for
tunate girl, and one to be envied to-night,
Cordelia. You have your brother and
your lover safe with you.’’
“And you will go back with me. Don’t
harden your lace that way, It you would
add the last drop to my cup of joy, come
with me, away from this loneliness this
evening. Please. Magdalen, my slater.”
“I wish I could, out it is impossible, ut
terly impossible. Don’t ask ute again, it
is bard to refuse you, but 1 must. Go back
to your dear ones and forget me. I am
happier here than ( could tie there.”
She led her gently to tbe door, and stood |
there until she went reluctantly away, 1
then returned to her seat and her book,
but no reading that nignt.
Old Manse came in lor a few sociable
words before gretirng to her quarters,
but wnen she saw that pale silliness,
which betokened a hard struggle on her
young mistress’ face, she crept softly out
again, shaking her head and muttering
something about “Trubbel in de air, po’
chile, po’ lam’.”
The soldiers were to remain only a
week, and over half of it bad passed be
fore Magdalen saw them, then she would ;
nut have gone up to tne big house, but \
she could no) refuse to tie Cordelia's
bridesmaid. A hasty marriage bad been
arranged after a good deal ef persuasion I
and talk. Young Lee wished to leave a
wife instead of a sweetheart behind him.
and in the face of all the changes and
chances of war, Cordelia could not refuse
him. ri might never return to her, and
she wanted the comfort of knowing that
she had gratified tbe last request he
□tight ever make to her.
“Of course I prefer a different wedding,
with a regular trvu*eoH, and hosts of
people, and a grand feast, aud then a
honeymoon, but such things are out of
place ia tuese times. I shall wear my
best white dress and mamma’s veil, and
you must wear the dress which you look
ed so lovely in at my party last year. Oh,
me! how time dies aDd how things
cnange,” she said when talking the mat
ter over with her friend.
Ho Magdalen shook out her one white
party dress. ■ thinking with conflicting
emotions of tbe two former occasions on
which she had appeared in it before Cam
mack—Lieut. Caminack now.
-So guests were bidden to the marriage
except the minister’s family, and they had
uut arrived when Magdalen went In. The
house seemed to be very quiet, and she
entered Mrs. Cammack’s room to find
mother and son alone, talking together in
the dusk,
“Come forward, my dear.” said the
lady, cordially- “There is no one here
but Lawrence.”
He greeted her coldly, and after a few
general remarks, returned to bis con ver
; nation with his mother. He leaned against
I tbe mantel, dressed in full uniform, and
us the tire leaped up into flames. Hie girl
i noted the effects of camp life on the pet
j ted son of ease and luxury. A long mous-
I tache swept down from bis upper lip, and
! exposure had browned bis faee and hands
Evidently he bad not spared himself in
\ the fray, if one might judge from altered
! appearances. While his cool indifference
! caused her a sharp pang of jealous pain,
it helped to restore her own composure.
"Where is Cordelia?” she inquired,
“Alone In the library.”
“I will go to her then,” and she walked
out, glad to escape from the room.
The two girls were together but a short
time before tbe gentlemen joined them.
“Is it time?” Cordelia inquired, fright
ened aud trembling.
"It will be in afew minutee,” said her
soldier-lover, tenderly.
"Have courage, sister. Y'ou are not
going to your execution,” said her broth
er, smiling.
Tney were summoned and the attend
ants passed out first. Magdaieu’s hand
i barely touched her escort’s arm, but be
j fore t’boy entered the parlor door, he took
it in his. held it warmly for a moment,
! and then placed it firmly within his arm.
; it was a very sad, quiet wedding for a
Caminack. The mother shed a tew gen-
I tie tears in the folds of her delicate lace
handkerchief, and the grandfather main
tained an expression of melancholy grav
! ltv -
Alter tbe supper was served, the mio
-1 isterand his family departed, and tbe
! family were alone. Magdalen also rose
' to go, and, although eagerly entreated
by Cordelia, declined to prolong her stay,
"Wait then, and we will escort you
home, willfulness. There, mamma, don’t
say l will lake cold. The nignt is mild
as .Juue.”
"Wrap up then and go on.”
Uut Lawrenoe stood in the hall ready
1 o put Magdalen's cloak around her and
| o accompany her borne.
“It Is not ncoessary. really,” she said.
He looked steadily down at her.
“Do you object because my society is so
unpleasant to you, Magdalen?”
“No sir, but—”
1 “The others are leaving us; conic.”
It was a quick silent walk to the cot
tage gate, and there the newly.wedded
lovers waited until Lawrence saw bis
companion safe within her own door-
Sne entered, but he stopped just out.
j side.
“1 will tell you good-by now, as 1 ex
peci to leave very early In the morning.”
The light revealed the swlftly-changlug
j expression ot her face.
| "But I thought-—”
‘•Henry will remain two days longer,
i but my time i up. 1 ain glad 1 saw you
to-night. lam glad 1 am permitted to
look at you now. it will l>e something to
: remember and think of on loug night
watches aud days ot tiresome duty. 1
would not come down because l did r.ot
thiuk you would cars to see me be
cause 1 wished to spare you any unpleas
antness.”
He spoke in a calm, non-expectant tone
hut his eyes were eloquent of admiration
and love. Tbe girl's composure broke
down, and all other considerations were
swallowed up in tbe thougnt that in au
other day be would be in danger again.
"Do you indeed care to spare me pain?”
she asked, iu a trembling voioe.
"I do, indeed. Can you doubt It?”
" Then do not speak so coldly now, as if
you were offended or hurt.”
“Do 1 seetn cold? Then l must have
learned it from you, Magdalen. Why did
you run away from me In New Orleans?”
he said, reproachfully, and stepping with
in the room.
“We did not run away.”
“You enunot deny ttiat you left very
suddenly.”
“No, fdo not wish to deny It. We did I
leave suddenly aud at a moment's no
tice.”
“And to avoid mo? I believe you hate
me, child!”
She mads no reply, but walked nearer
to tho fireplace. He followed her. persist- !
ent, determined to mnko her say yes or j
110. And then anything to prolong the in
terview. It was but u rare moment, such
a one might never come again, for vettrs,
perhaps, of warfare and danger lay before
him, and why should ne be more fort 11-
nsto than those who fell in battle every I
f day.
"Do you hate me, Magdalen?”
“Y’ou know that I do noil”
“Do you love me? or Is It neither love
nor hate, hut a mild, lukewarm sort of
liking?”
She made no reply nor lifted her eyes.
He came nearer, took the band which
hung nerveless at her side.
•* what does your silence mean? Forme
to go sad leave vou la peace, or that you
dare not trust your voice or your eves?
I What does that foolish promise signify?”
“And yet u 1 failed to keep it, you
would nave cause to doubt me. 1 hear
Cordelia calling you.”
I “And you are anxious to be rid of ma.
Don’t be in such haste to send mo away.
Let me have one more minute, for it is
quite probable that I shall never be per
mitted to see you again.”
• She shuddered, and tears gathered in
her downcast eyes and fell.
Cammack sighed bitterly.
“Magdalen, have I been cruel again aud
made you weep? God, forgive me those
tears. I will say no more.”
“Do not reproach yourself for my weak
ness,” sbe faltered.
“I cannot help it. Do as you think
beat; I will never torment you again.”
He lifted her baud to his lips, then
dropped it and walked to tne door, then
wheeled, and hurriedly returned.
“Your fan—do you remember it? I have
it here iu my pocket.”
He book a small wnite parcel from his
breast pocket, and laid it on the mantel.
Magdalen turned and laid a detaining
hand on bis arm.
“If 1 seem celu or unkind pardon me. i
know not what todo. If we should never
niett again bear this in mind: 1 think of
you, I pray for you every day. and shall
as long as this cruel war lasts. God bless
and protect you,” sue faltered, soltly,
struggling with some deep emotion.
“And be thou comforted, dear one,” he
whispered, drawing her nearer to him.
She could not resist the gentle force of
his arm. the tenderness of his voice an l
eyes, but allowed her head to rest against
bis shoulder for a moment and he kissed
her unrebuked.
“Now go.”
“Yes. Give me one more kiss. Do not
forget me. Good-by, good-by, Magdalen.”
He released her reluctantly, and walk
ed out into the chill darkness, not trust
ing himself to take one backward glauce
into the warm, quiet room at the pale,
trembling girl, who stood on the hearth
with bowed head, and tight-clasped
bands.
CHAPTER XXV.
It was a quiet winter In Louisiana,
though the times grew harder, and deep
gloom hung over the country. Every
household had been called on to give up a
father, hushaud, or brotner, and sad ti
dings of sickness or death brought sorrow
to many hearts.
John Grant came home on a short leave
of absence, which expired before Magda
len had talked half as much as she in
tended to, so she declared, trying to force
a brave smile to her lips.
She returned to her spinning and her
weaving again, after his departure, de
termined to look only ou the bright side
ot ber life.
The new year advanced, but no pros
peet of peace appeared. The Canimacks
heard from their gallant soldiers only
rarely, and Cordelia's marriage seemed
but a dream. Not a dream to the young
wife though. She cherished the few
short letters she received irom her bus
band, aspriceless treasures,reading them
and wearing taem next to her heart until
they fell to pieces.
In the latter part of that summer Mrs.
Cammack grew really ill with the weari
ness of long suspense and anxiety. It
was a slow decline and she might have
resisted and overcome it, ii she had only
exerted her will, but she did not. She
believed the country to be ruined and she
gave up her son as tost to her. He would
never come eately througu me struggle,
and she could not see that she had any
thing lelt to lire for. So ber life nar
rowed down to the space ot ber rooms.
For a long time M agdalen would only
send up or call aud inquire alter her
health. A strange coldness had existed
between them ever since the girl’s return
bone, and she did not care to be regarded
as au intruder.
Hut one day Mrs. Cammaok’s waiting
maid came down to the cottage.
“Missus says, will you please to come
up and sit with’er awhile? Miss Corde
lia is gone ter town after letters,” she
said to Magdalen.
“Yes, certainly I will with pleasure.
Tell your mistress so.”
Ten minutes later she entered the sick
room with ber work in her hands. The
invalid sal in an easy chair, surrounded
by ease and luxury, but ber pale face did
uot reflect peace or satisfaction.
“What are you staking Magdalen?”
sbe inquired, leaning back and watching
her curiously.*
“A white petticoat for Alanse,” she re
plied with a bright smile.
“Sbe spun the thread, 1 wove the cloth
and now it will soon be ready to wear.”
“Have you never grown tired of work ?”
“No madam. It bas saved me mdny
sad, or lonely days. When lam at work
I have no time to tear or imagine evils
that have not come upon us.”
“Terhaps you were right to learn it. 1
almost wish—” but tbere sbe paused and
gazed into the fire with melancholy eyes.
They were rather still and formal that
time, but Mrs. Cammack sent for her
j again and again, until at last the girl did
i not wait to be sent for, but came every
day and exerted herself to be pleasant
and entertaining to the invalid,
j “Humph! Where did that girl learu
i so much?” oia Antbun Cammack ab
ruptly inquired one evening after she bad
i gone borne. Tbey had been talking of the
war, and Magdalen bad ventured to have
au opinion of herown. ltsurprised and in
terested him, aud he rubbed up his glasses
and bis wits together and regarded her
; attentively. She bore the sharp scrutiny
i unflinchingly, and tn the conversation
which followed maiutaiued ber points
I bravely.
“She is developing into a fine woman, a
lovely sensible woman,” he said poking
the fire. “Queer too. An overseer’s
daughter.”
“Does that make any difference grand
pa?” inquired Cordelia.
“Wbv yes, certainly. They are of the
old peasant stock which peopled Georgia
when it was new. Grant told me his an
cestors were English.”
“Aud the peasant’s blood may be ns
pure as the princes’, aye, purer." If this
war continues I think we will all come
down to an equality, rich aud poor, over
seer and planter. II the negroes are
freed.”
“But tho negroes will never be freed,”
he stubbornly said.
“Ab grandpa, I think Magdalen is
right when she smys our cause is losing
ground.”
“And pray what does Magdalen know
about It? She’s a smart girl, but sbe
does not know it all yet,” he crossly ex
claimed.
Still be always joined the ladies, when
Magdalen wan there, ami many were the
arguments they had. They never fully
agreed, hut he liked that all the better.
Cordelia secretly exulted.
Without knowing it the overseer’s
daughter was becoming necessary to the
household. Magdalen must read to the
invalid, or cheer her up with a little
hopeful talk. She must have an argu
ment with the master of the bouse, and
she must lie the triend and confident Of
Henry Lee's wife.
“Ob yes, it will all come right yet, and
when peace has been declared, Lawrence
will marry the woman of his choice and
we will all be satisfied and happy.”
mused Cordelia taking a long look
ahead.
t pper Louisiana still remained uudis
turbt-d by tne presence of tbe enemy,
though many of the swamp p anters
gathered up their money and negroes and
fled to a place of greater security.
The siege and fall of Vicksburg shook
their confidence, alarmed them. There,
mow gU*nt bop* Dcrithud miserably’
Irom exposure and hunger, while plenty
surrounded home, and poor mothers
hearts broke with sorrow.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The last dark year of the war was
-ushered in and the’South had lost. The
truth could not be rejected by even the
’most unbelieving ones, though they gave
iu only inch by inch.
For months" Magdalen Grant had not
heard from her father, and learning early
in March that an old couple living in
Laroch were going down the river to
see their son, she decided to go with them.
TbeCammaeks heard of it with dismay.
Cordelia wept and declared that she
would feel utterly deserted if Magdalen
went away, and then think of the dangers
to which sue would be exposed to herself.
Mrs. Cammack looked at the girl’s quiet
face with wistful eyes.
“I shall miss you child?” she said
slowly,
Magdalen bent tenderly over her.
“1 shall soon return dear madam.
Don't he troubled.”
“Grandpa, do forbid It,” cried Cordelia
desparlngly.
”bhe is“a free woman, with the power
to do a' she pleases. I have nothing to
say.” he replied shortly.
Another day he called her into the lib
rary, gave her some good advice and
offered her money and servants.
Bae listened attentively and gravely,
hut declined the money and servants.
Her father had provided for her and the
servants she did uot need.
‘•Well you refuse my favors, but there
is one 1 wish to ask of you, Magdalen,
if ever you need anything, anything,
come to me.”
“Yes sir.”
“And Magdalen, 1 take back all that l
ever said agaisst receiving you into my
family. Pray pardon me child, and here
after act as you please.”
At the unexpected speech, she grew
white instead of red. Her upper lip
quivered slightly and a flash ol pride lit
her eyes.
“Thank you Mr. Cammack, but that
promise was not necessary in the first
place. I too am proud aDd I would never
have forced myself upon you, under any
circumstances. ’Tis all passed and Jam
now very well content that matters stand
as they do,” sac said, her voice sinking,
her eves fixed though tfully on the floor.
“Well 1 have cleared my conscience.
You have a perfect right to feel wounded
and decline this taray reparation. 1 do
not blame you,” he said quite gently,
fumbling among the papers on'the table.
“A mans education bas a great deal to
do with bis thoughts and acts.”
“Yes sir ’tis quite true and 1 no longer
feel hard towards you.”
“Indifferent eh-?” looking furtively at
her.” Perhaps you did not care at first?
I mean you did care for the boy.”
A flush crossed thejgirl’s face.
“Am it has all long since passed, we
will not recall it,” she said reservedlv,
and the old gentleman learned nothiag.
Mr. Farrar came home, and before sbe
went away, Magdalen called on him.
She had beard that he bad been wounded
in the army and had come home rather
brokeninbeaitb.bat she was not pre
pared to see the utter wreck which met
her. The well preserved man of ease and
leisure had disappeared, and she found a
weak gray hatred invalid. An empty
sleeve hung at his left side andacriopled
foot required the use of a crutch.
Tears tilled the girl’s eyes, and emotion
choked her voice, when sue saw the sad
change in ber old friend.
“Oh, sir! I did not dream of this, lam
so sorry,” she said in a faltering voice.
“I am what might very properly be
called a battered wreck, eh child?” he re
plied with a sorry sort of smile. “Do
not l>e shocked or "grieved. Hew are vou
getting on? Well?”
Aud when she had dried her eyes and
steadied her voice T she told him of her
daily life and of all tbat had happened m
the neighborhood in his long absence.
Then she mentioned her projected trip
with old Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
He strongly opposed it.
“’Tis tolly, do not think of it. You
know not what you undertake. It would
not please your father. Remain quietly at
home, have patience yet a little longer
and I think he will come. Why child, I
would not rest a moment knowing you
were wandering through the swamps.”
“But you do not know, you cannot teel
my anxiety. I must go. I shall not come
to grief.”
“You do not know that.”
“And yet I feel confident of it. Please
do uot distress yourself about It, dear
sir.”
“I cannot help it. Your are determined
to go?”
“Yes sir I think I am.”
“It is a pity you have no guardian to
control you and make you stay at home,”
he said half angrily.
Bbe smiled sadly.
“Dear fader trusted me to take care of
myself. He left me free.”
“Yes, and see the use you are going to
make of it.”
“1 am sorry you are displeased,” she
said gently, and then rose to take leave.
“1 wish 1 could be of some service to
you,” her heart moved with pity and
tenderness every time she locked at him.
He breathed a short sigh and turned his
face away a moment, finding that his
heart had not lost all its youth yet.
“Take caro of yourself" and return to
your friends as quickly as possible. That
is all that you can do for me,” he said
faintly, “and Magdalen don’t hasten.
There it one more question I want to ask
you. Do you still refuse to marry Law
rence Cammack ?”
“Yes sir,” she replied quite steadily.
“Still bound by tbat old promise. They
may yet see the day when they will be
anxious to have you in the, family, the
proud creatures.”
“They have been verv kind to me and
Mr. Cammack has already given bis con
sent.”
“Ab! beginning to see a little. His
eyes will be more fully opened before this
year is out. What, must you go. Well,
good-bye and do not quite forget yourold
friend, when you are a happy wife.”
Perhaps she would have lingered longer
bad she known it would be their last hour
together, but she did not know, and so
calling ber servant departed, and the
poor worn-out soldier closed his eyes, not
to sleep, but to thins of Magdalen, her
past, present and future.
“Bhe shall yet be placed where she can
give rather than receive favors from even
tbsCammacks. My days are few and
iny wealth Is not all in lands and ne
groes.”
|to be continued.!
Turned Out of Hie Cliurcb for
Dancing.
Uncle Jonas ilozar la a well known
negro who live* in the Pope settlement in
Pulaski oounty. He is about 72 years
old. autl bis woolly head is almost enow.
white, but he is still full of life. The
other night Uncle Jonas attended a frolic
given at ono of the cabins in the settle
ment, and as the tiddler sawed out that
stirring old air, the "One-Eyed Gopher ”
It put new life into the old fellow, and
forgetting that be was a member of the
church, bo seized a partner and sallied
forth and literally “danced the cross out."
The brethrsn, on hearing of Uncle Jonas’
conduct, expelled him from the church.
Some new fabrics for mourning are the
feather and puusy cloths in delicate
fabrics, and the convent, gypsy, sod royal
scrguln the heavier and more durable
materials.
UOUHrOKD'R ACID phospbatb,
For Overworked Females.
Dr. J. I’. Cowan, Ashland,O.,says: “It
proves satisfactory as a nerve tonic; also
in dyspeptic conditions of the ttomoeh
with general debility, such os we And in
overworked (enisles, with nervous head
soUb and its aucvikpaaimenU."
JMasaafes Palm.
Ladies
Do you want a pure, bloom*
lug Complexion I If so, a
few applications of Hasan's
MAGNOLIA BALM will grat
ify you to your heart's con
tent. It does away with (Sal
lowness, Redness, Pimples,
Blotches, and all diseases and
imperfections of the skin. It
orercomes the flushed appear
ance of heat, fatigue and ex
citement. It makes a lady of
THIRTY appear but TWEN
TY; and so natural, gradual,
and perfect are its effects,
that it is impossible to detect
its application.
ygPtaa.
CLIIMCMAN’S
TOBACCO
| REMEDIES
The (Jrente, t Medical Discovery of
•hesge. No family ought to be
ni’ bout (hem-
THE GLIHGMAK TOBACCO ODfTMEIT
THE MOST EFFECTIVE PREPARA
TION an the market for Pflm. A SURE (Till
for Itching Piles- Has never failed to gic
prompt relief. Will cure Anal Ulcere. Abecere
rietuia. Tetter. Salt Rheum. Barber’. Itch. Ring
worms, Pimplee, Sores and Boila. Price 50 ri.
THE CLINGMAri TOBACCO CAKE
NATURE’S OWN REMEDY, Corea ail
Wound*. Cats, Braises. Sprains, Erytripelan, Boil*.
Cirriuncle*, Bene Felons, Ulcere, Sores Sore Eyp?
Sow Throat,Bunion*.Corns. Neuralgia,
Orchitis. Gout. Rheumatic Gont. Colds, Oooerhs,
Bronchia*, Milk Leg, Su&kesaxxl Do# Bites. Stands
of Ineects, Ac. In fact allays all local Imtation anc
Infiammution from whatever cause. Price 25 eta,
THE CLINGMAN TOBACCO PLASTER
Prepared Recording: m the moot neicntifV
f he rl REST KEDATm
TLNC*REI>IIiNT>s compounded with the purest
Tobacco rioar. and is specially recommended for
Croup. Weed or Cake of the Breast, and for that cles
of irritant or inflammatory maladies. Aches and
Fains where, from too delicate a state of tbe system,
the patient is uuabte to bear tbe stronger applicari< -
of the Tobacco Cake. For Headache or other Aches
and Pains, it is invaluable. Price 15 eie.
Ask your druggist for these remedies, or write to tbe
CLINGMAN TOBACCO CURE CO.
DURHAM. N. C„ U. S. A.
MOTHERS’
FRIEND
CHILD-BIRTH ■=*■*•
The time has come at last
when the terrible agony incident
to this very critical period iu u
woman’s life can be avoided. A
distinguished physician, who
passed the greatest portion of
his life (forty-four years) in this
branch of practice, left to child
bearing woman this priceless
legacy and life-saving appliance.
“THE MOTHERS’ FRIEND.”
and to-day there are thousands
ef the best women in our land
who, having used this wonderful
remedy before confinement, rise
upamlcal! his name blessed.
Wereceive let ers from every
section of the country thanking
tis for placing this preparation in
the reach of sufltriug woman.
One party from North Carolina
wr.tes us tbat sbe would like to
thank the proprietors on her
knees for bringing it to her no
tice. as in a previous confine
ment she had two doctors, and
they were compelled to use chlo
roform. instruments, etc., and
she suffered almost death: but
this tune she need "MOTHERS’
FRIEND,” aud her labor was
short, quick, and almost like
magic. Now, why should a wo
mau suffer when sbe can avoid it?
We can prove all we claim by
tiring wit and anyone in
terested can call, or have their
husbands do so, at our office, and
see the original letters, which we
cannot publish.
This remedy is one about which we cannot
publish certificates, but it is a most wonderful
liniment to be Used after the first two or three
months.
Send for our treatise on tbe Health and Hap
pineas of Woman, mailed free, which gives all
particulars.
The Rk xnFiii.n Regulator Cos.,
_, .. „ . , Boa 28, Atlanta, Ga.
Sold by nil druggists.
CATARRH!
For four years I have been afflicted with a
very troublesome catarrh of the head. So ter
rible has its nature I wen that when I blow my
nose small pieces of bone would frequently
come out of my mouth and nose. The dis
charge was copious, and at times frequently
offensive. My blood became so impure that
my general health was greatly Impaired, with
poor appetite and worse digestion.
Numerous medicines were used without re
lief, until 1 began the use of U. 11. 8., and
three bottlos acted almost like magic. Since
their use uot a symptom has returned, and 1
feel in every way quite restored to health,
am an old citizen of Atlanta, and refer to
almost any one living on Butler street, and
more particularly to Dr. I* M. Glllam. who
knows my case.
Mrs. ELIZABETH KNOTT,
Atlanta. La.
**For sale bv OSCEOLA BUTLI.it aud I.IPP
_AN BROS., Druggists.
TO LADIES I SSM
loathful link Kestitrcr—Ten to Kin,,,-,, I'nunU * Month
NO POISON. Aoipo-Mklcnc fails u> osr
(S, If ul ud Form. Nwitjvritnu.
B E A UTY of r> .* F rn u ,nt, us,
Ibiii our Tails* Itaqalallss. I'murrUml In Am.rl.-s to, r
wd HHn lUsnlsbM, Kla.li Warms, isia-k-limit.) WrlaSlss
*a kasrh, Ms. Ssa* 10c (Mamas nr Mlvsr) tor JSsrtlralsra
rMWm.’riai.. Oroofar., ste., by Katurs. Mall. Mr atlas
srttslr wanted. Cklahsatsr Chrsalsal la,
■SI Ssdlssi Sauars, FkUsddytta, Pa
ms Tr * de •“rolled by LIPP- (
ffprrohfe Hrmr&tj.
FOR COUCHS, CROUP AND
CONSUMPTION USE
TAYLOR’S
CHEROKEE REMEDY
OF SWEET GUM AND MULLEIN.
Thceweet gum, ss gathered from a,r. o
the same name. growtn e along the
streams in the Soiithnrn Slates, eonrauu,
stimulalingexpectorsnt priuc.ple thi
the Dhleem proUneing the earl-.- mere r,
cough. ;,U'i stimulates the chili to throw oi
the faise membrane in croup amt whooDin,
cough. M Den combined with the heaJis,
mucilaginous principle in the mullein nU;
of the o'<l fields, presents tn Taylor’s
kek Rkmedv or S-VTZET Gum asp Mul, sis
tbcline-i known remedy lor Coughs. Crons
’* hooping-cough and Consumption- and *■
Palatable any child is pleased to take ,V
Ask your druggist for it. Price. 25r. sn-i p
If he does not keep it, we will pay, for os,
time only, express etiarges on large size botti,
to any part of the V. S. on receipt of si
Walter a. taylor. AUa ala ."G.
HUiital.
A STANDARD MEDICAL WOBK~
For Young and Middle-aged l^.sn
ONLY $1 BY' MAIL, POSTPAID
ILLUSTRATIVE SAMPLE FREE TO ALL
MW TBTSELFu4hL
A Great Medical Work on Manhood.
I EXHAUSTED Vitality, Nervous and Phyai.
j cal Debility, Premature Decline in Msn
Errors of Youth, and the untold miseries re
sulting from indiscretion or excesses. .A book
for every man—young, middle-aged, and old
It contains 125 prescriptions lor all aente and
chronic diseases, each one of which is invalu
able. So found by the author, whose experi
ence for 25 years is surh as probably never
before fell to the lot of any pnvsieian. sv
pages, bound in beautiful French muslin, em
bossed covers, full gilt, guaranteed to be a
finer work in every sense than anv other work
sold in this country for *2 50. or the nimiev
will be refunded in every instance. Prue
onlv f 1 by mall, prst-paid. illustrative sample
free to anvbody. Mend now. Gold medal
awarded the author by the National Medical
AnocUtion, to the President of which, the
Hon. P. A. UiaeelU and associate officers of the
board the reader is respectfully referred.
The Science of Life should be read bv the
young for instruction, nd bv the afflicted for
relief. It wi II benefit all.— London /.an.:-"
There is no member of society to whom The
Science of Life will not be useful, whethet
youth, parent, guardian, instructor, or cler
gyman . —A rsonmtt.
Address tbe Peslmdy Medical Institute, ot
Dr. W. H. Parker, No. 4 Bullfinch street.
Boston, Mass., who may be consulted on all
diseases requiring skill and experience
Chronic. and obstinate diseases the
have b filed the skill of all other physi
cians a specialty. Such treated successfully
without an instance of failure. Mention this
paper.
Jt Cattfrj
less. Re
quires no in
etrnment.
MisaLucy-I.
Cook, Oe o-
Ga., says:
"One bottle of Certain Catarrh Cure com
pletely cured me of a severe ease of Caturrh
from which 1 suffered live years.” Dr. O. B.
Howe, Athena; G., says: “Certain Catarrh
Cure cured me of severe sore throat, and [
cheerfully imlorse it.*’ Price sl—six oottlei
to. Where no druggist sells n, we w ill eh p
and pav charges. 3-C. Cos.. Athens, Ga. Sold
in Savannah by SOLOMONS A CO. and
LIPI’XIAN BROS. Testimonials, etc., fur
nished.
★
A. FRIEND IIV NEED.
Bit aVFEET’S
INFALLIBLE LINIMENT
Prepared from the recipe of Dr. Stephen
Sweet, of Connecticut, the great natural Bone
Setter. Has been used fn. - more than 50 year*,
and is the best known remedy for Rheumat
ism, Neuralgia, Sprain*, Bruises, Cuts, Burn*,
Wounds and all External Injiuies
Sold by all druggists. TRY IT
Trade supplied by LIPPMAN ISRO-C
n nil 111 A WHISKY HABITS cured
3I as 111 nil at home without pale. Book
U | I U !?l of particular* sent Free.
B. M WOOLLEY, M. D„ At
lanta, Ga.
Ha, miac Kcme of the Mt Won
derful lures on record.
JTottfrtj,
"* oULD &C C A
u DlflßU ir
ROYAL HA YANA LOTTERY,
(A GOVERNMENT INSTITUTION),
Drawn t Havana, Cuba,
HRlIs 17. 1886.
TICKETS IN FIFTHS.
WHOLES, M; KRACTfONS PRO RATA.
See that the name Gould A 00. It on tha
ticket.
Subject to no manipulation, not controlled
by the parties In interest. It is the fairest
thing |u the nature of chance In existence.
For tickets auuly to eiIIPSKY CO., ties
Agents, 1212 liroauway. N. f. City, or agenu
cr Tv where.
gPatfbro iiiiT* 2 t’lßPirq.
A FINE LINE OF
ELEGANT JEWELRY!
Gold and Silver Watches.
Clocks of every description.
Silverware of the best makers*
Optical Woods, Barometers,
Walking Cmc*
AT THE OLD RELIABLE STORE OF
A. L. DESSOUILLONS,
*1 TLI STREET.
Sole Acrent-f* r Lemaro’o Bock Crystal
•* Spectacle*.
Jcwdry and Wstcheo tttoroihglj