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®ht .Ciniumnnh Sriboe. pabitahed by the Tarawra Publlahiag 00. | J. a DKVKAUX. Euums vol in. Two. Bflenfly, swiftly, riding with me, Stirrup to stirrup, stride for stride, • If I stretch out my hand in the night, by my side, him, steadily, sullenly, With his withered face and his misery, By the firmest and bitterest bond allied, That never a love nor a hate can divide, Riding with me. Across the land and from sea to sea. Plashing and plunging through many rivers, Recklessly, wearily, desperately. Ban nor blessing, nor thing that severs Can sever the tie ’twixt him and me, Out of the night and into the day, From season to season, from year to year, What does it matter where leads the way? There is nothing further to heed nor fear; There is nothing to hope in the time to be; As I gallop in silence tonight, by my side, Stirrup to stirrup, and stride for stride, He rides with me. As I ride with thee, shall I ride with thee, With my w.thered face and my misery, Stirrup to stirrup, and stride for stride, The Cross and the Book and the Priest de fied. Through time and death and eternity, To days that breed, nor years that kill, Nor prayer, nor tears of souls that be Past the swift river gocd or ill, Shall sever the bonds that hold mo, tied By deed and by will of my own to thy side, ■ Stirrup to stirrup, and stride for stride, Steadily, sternly, silently, I shall ride with thee. Jack Dayton’s Fortune. i. Jack Dayton was twenty-four years of age. He was handsome, as that term applies to man; ho was studious in an extraordinary sense, he was as sober as a cold water advocate; he was a lawyer, and ho was as poor as a church mouse and prouder than Lucifer before he was exiled from heaven. Jack Dayton was as brave as a Bengal tiger, and his poverty never seemed a burden and a reproach to him before he met Gussie Vandorn. After that mo mentous meeting at Saratoga he felt that . he could hang himself because he had not been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The fact of the matter is Jack Dayton was in love from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, and because he was poor his pride stood between him and the rich woman who had stolen his heart in an unguarded moment He had been practically raised in a lawyer’s office. He had entered at the age of twelve as general utility boy and he had left it at the age of twenty-two a finished lawyer, with a few hun red dollars saved up during the long years. 4 ‘Go somewhere, Jack,” said the fond mother, 4 ‘and stay all the summer. You never had a vacation in your life, and you should celebrate your admission to the bar by taking one. You have been a hard student; you have been a loving and devoted son. Go take a vacation. Jack kissed her and took himself off to Saratoga, the worst place on earth, except Newport, for a poor man to go. But Jack was bent upon celebrating his admission in grand stylo and within the limits of S3OO. So he went to Saratoga and took a modest room at one of the best hotels and started in for solid cn . joyment and profitable review of his law books. ;■ But the Var.dorns were at Saratoga, too, and at the same hotel with J.icx. V He got acquainted with them in no time. He and Gussie got on famously in an easy, procrastinating way. She >as a dashing, brilliant woman with a sober side the world seldom saw. She began by studying Jack. He was a so cial phenomenon. He was the most Sta nonchalant, self-possessed and dignified • young man at the Springs; a thoughtful but yet often humorous conversationalist. Everybody wondered what a brilliant f, and fashionable woman like Gussie „ Vandorn could find to admire in a stud ious, self-possessed and undemonstrative man like Jackson Dayton. They were much together about the hotel “talking literature” some would say. When Jack’s S3OO began to get down to a fine point he set about returning to New York. Instead him through the summer it had just taken six weeks of Saratoga in a very quiet way to eat the life out of it. There is nothing like a summer hotel for eating SAVANNAH, GA., SATURDAY. JULY 21, 1888 up money. Jack had to go but he wanted to stay. While the twe were out for a quiet walk one afternoon about the middle of August, Jack said ; “Miss Vandorn, Igo to New York tomorrow. My vacation is at an end.” Miss Vandorn was as silent as a tomb stone. Jack was surprised thereby and cast a hasty glance into h r face. He was startled. He could not mistake the surprise and bewildered expression on her countenance his abrupt declaration had provoked. His heart gave a great leap and then stood still. “If I say I go with regret it isbecau'-c you have made my stay so very pleas ant,” he managed to say. “Must you go? ’ asked Gussie. 4 ‘l must go. lam but a poor young lawyer with a loving mother to support. My dream hour is ever. It seems like a dream.” ‘What seems like a dream?” “The few weeks I have been here and privileged to have so much of your society.” “I shall be p’cased to see you at our home in New York, Mr. Dayton.” “Miss Vandorn,” said he solemnly, “we have always been frank with each other; let me be so now, Why? lam too poor to be numbered among your New York friends.” “I shouldn’t mind your poverty, Mr. Dayton; ‘worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow,’ you know.” “Yes; but the world does not look at it that way; neither do L I have got to struggle for a place to stand. Some day wo may meet again. I pray that we may. And it will seem a long time before that day comes.” They parted. When she reached her room, where the luxuries which wealth alone com mands were scattered everywhere, she sank into an easy chair and there was a sweet smile upon her lips. “He will return to me,” she mur mured to herself, “and I shall wait un til he does.” TL All this passed through Jack Day ton’s mind two years after it had oc curred. Ho had had a hard struggle. With all his brilliant talents he had a hard time of it to make ends meet. Ha was brave and hopeful and he nurtured these by thinking of the brilliant wo man he had not met since he parted with her at Saratoga. He heard of her often, but he purposely avoided meet ing her. “What’s the use?’ he would ask him self. “Jack,” sail his mother as ho went home one night, 4 I have never spoken to you about your father because the subject is a painful one to me. But I have heard news today through his lather’s lawyer that you should know.” “Well, mother, what’s the news? I have never taken any stock in my father, because you never told me anything about him, and I concluded that he must have wronged you very deep.” “He did, Jack. He thought he loved me, but he did not. He married me, and when he found that his rich father would not sanction the marriage ho deserted me. For twenty-five years he has lived in Europe. He drank very hard, so I have heard. He never wrote to me, but his lawyers [rave paid me a small sum every quarter, as you know.” ‘ Well, yes,” said Jack; “I knew you drew the money, but I didn’t know he was living and that he is rich. I shall institute action to recover your rightful share of his money.” “But he is now dead, Jack.” “Dead?’’ “Yes; he died in Paris a month ago.” When Jack entered his office the next morning his head was full of the news his mother had told him, and projects to look into his father’s affairs to pro tect his own and his mother’s interests. Ha had hardly got settled down to his work before a spruce young man, in a footman's livery, presented himself and handed him a sealed letter. He read the letter with mingled emotions. He put on his cost and hat and followed the servant to the pavement and entqjed the magnificent carriage in waiting The carriage stopped before a rich house in one of tho fashionable up-town streets,, and the doors flew open as Jack approached them. He was led to a large bedroom. He walked to tho side of tho bed, around which two physicians and one or two servants were congregated. Everybody made way for him. A shrunken hand was extended to him, and ho grasped it 4 ‘Young man,” said a faint voice, “1 am your grandfather. 1 wronged your mother when she was young. Your father is now dead. He was a rascal. I have kept track of you through the years since you were born. I have not long to live. I want you to forgive me before I die. I will not ask your mother to forgive me, because I have occa sioned her too much sorrow. All my wealth is yours. You have only to see my lawyers, Jenks & Jenks, You will find everything in shape, for my house has been in order a great many years against this hour.” Jack sank down by the side of tho bed thoroughly unnerved. He was a strong man, but in this hour, when the past was to bo atoned for and death hovered about tho grandfather who had wronged him, but whom he had never seen before, ho was weak as a child. “Forgive—” and tho spirit of James Dayton left the frail and wasted body, where it had lodged for seventy years, before he could finish the sentence. tn. Three months after the mortal re mains of James Dayton had been con signed to the earth from which they came Jack Dayton presented himself at the Fifth avenue residence of Gussie Vanborn. After a short time, which seemed an age to him, the young woman entered the parlor. He arose to his feet and ad vanced to meet her. “Miss Vandorn, will you pardon the liberty I take in calling upon you?” “Mr. Dayton, you have been free to call upon me, by invitation, for the past two years.” “But I thought you may have forgot ten.” “I have not forge tt n.” Jack gazed into her eyes a moment with all the earnestness of tho days since they had parted. Her eyes had dropped beneath hi’, and her face was suffused with blushes. She had not for gotten. He said with simple eloquence: “I have not forgotten. I never could forget. Your face has been with me; I have heard your voice ever since wo parted two years ago. I have come here tonight to toll you that li f o is no longer endurable if you don’t share it with me. I have waited two years to tell you this.” “You need not have waited two years, Mr. Dayton,” she said with a roguish smile. And Jack’s fortune was not in the money his grandfather left him, but in the love of the woman that money had secured to him.—[Chicago Mail. Pineapples. The pineapple season has begun in New York. Merchants there are re ceiving 3800 barrels a week, ani when the season is at its height, tho quantity will reach 10,000 barrels a week. Tho barrels contain from twenty-five to thirty extra large “pine’,” or forty to sixty small ones. The season lasts until August, and about 5,000,000 pineapples are imported each year. A Point on Lace. The word “point” in lace is so fre quently misunderstood that we may be excused for explaining that it is simply the French word for “stitch,” and the various kinds of lace are distinguished by the varieties of stitch. Hence it is that the word “point” comes into sc much prominence.— [Dry Goods Chron icle. We can never see this world in its true light unless wo consider cur life in it as a state of discipline, a condition through which we are passing to pre pare us for another state beyond. Children In Algiers. The boys, when running about, weat nothing but a long white chemise and dark blue vrot, but of all bewitching creatures in the world the little girls can scarcely bo surpassed, says F. A. Bridgeman, in writing about Algiers in Harper’s Magazine. They are every where, and must strike a stranger, cer tainly an artist, as a prominent feature of interest. Some are going to tho ba ker’s, carrying unbaked loaves piled on a plank on tho head; others with littls brass-bound buckets brimming with milk; singly, in crowds, always fasci nating; not only pretty, but arrayed in an infinite variety of costumes, they dart from shadow into sunlight, and disappear in a twinkling round a corner or through a doorway. They wear, first, a white chemise with gauze sleeves, over it a gandoura, or chemise without sleeves, and reaching nearly to tho ankles, usually of printed calico, glar ing in color, and with spots, stripes, bird’, branches, and leaves; this gan doura is sometimes of rich brocade or light silk. Over tho first they often wear a second gandoura of tulle with a design in it, ordinarily nothing moro nor less than common white curtain stuff. All tho materials hang limp and flutter when they run; round the waist a broad ceinture, and over tho shoul ders a little bodice. On the head a coni cal cap, always of crimson velvet, moro or less ornamented with gold thread; children and unmarried girls wear them with a strap under the chin; mar ried women tie them on with a colored handkerchief besides the strap. Their hair is fringed iquare, just over the eye brows, and plaited down tho back. Tho operation of dyeing it dark brownish wine-color requires several days, during which time they appear certainly at a disadvantage. Henna is made into a mushy paste and plastered all over tho head, as much as tho hair, being tied up all over, can hold in place---and even more, for it tuns down tho neck, tho cheeks, and into the ears. The process give: somewhat the appearance of a head modeled in wax with the hair studied in masses. Tho palms of tho hands, fingers, and the feet and toes, are also stained. Slave Traffic In Africa. The latest accounts from tho east coast of Africa leave no room for doubt that large numbers of slaves drawn from the Lake Nyassa district are now regu larly exported to Madagascar. A re cent eye-witness of soma of tho atroci ties committed by the Arabs states that they have no regard for human life or suffering. Large numbers of kidnapped villagers who are taken to the ports on the coast are conveyed in dhows to Mad agascar. Mojanga is the headquarters of this nefarious traffic, and there is too much reason to believe that a few Eu ropeans, as well as a large number of British Indians are concerned in these ventures. Being well acquainted with the movements of tho ships of war, tho foreigners at Mojanga arc always able to warn their Sakaiva or Arab ac complices of impending danger. Tho Hova authorities aro bound by treaty to prevent tho landing of slaves, and it would bo interesting to know what reasons they give for relaxing their vigilance. There is a general opinion that things will not improve until a greater amou :t of consular supervision is exercised on the west coast of Mada gascar.—(London News. The Borax Deposits of Colorado. The borax deposits near Inyo, Colo., aro apparently inexhaustible. They are usually but a few inches in thickness where first opened, but get thicker as they are pen<trated, till they attain a depth of two feet or, more. Thousands of acrei are covered by tho deposit. Adjoining tho borax deposits are vast beds of soda and salt. Groat mounds of salt lie around, glittering white, th.t contain thousands of tons. Tho salt is fit for use as mined. The proporlion of pure borax ranges from 3) to DO per cent. From the works ,it is hauled in wagons to Mojive, a distance of I(JQ miles.—[New Orleans Picayune. (•Lift Per Annum; 76 eenta tor Six Monthei < 60 cents Three Months; Single Copies I ft eentw-In AAvanoe. PEARLS OF THOUGHT. ■ - • Pride costa more than Hunger, thirst and cold. Life is a reckoning wo cannot make * twice over. Impulse ca« do wonders, where pre paration falls. Confidence) is a plant of alow growth in an aged bosom. Wo may be ruined by tho excessive use of good things. A good conscience is to the soul what health Is to the body. A character can bo blackened by a shrug of tho shoulders. The most manifest sign of wijdom is continued cheerfulness. _ _ Bo brief in thy discourse, for what b prolix cannot bo pleasing. Manners must adorn knowledge, and smooth its way through the world, j, L"t there bo no wilful perversion of another’s meaning; no sudden seizure of a lapsed syllable to play upon it. ‘ Take away this measure from trnr dress and habits, and all is turned into such paint, and glitter, and ridiculous ornaments, as aro a real shamo to tho wearer. • v Men talk in ruptures of youth and beauty, wit and sprightliness; but after seven years of union, not ono of them is to be compared to good family man agement, which is seen at every meal, and felt every hour in tho husband’s purse. Washing Day in Morocco, Tho only work I ever saw mon doing in Morocco is washing clothes, and why they should bo let in for this particular job, uni ?s i it is becauso they can tako <IT more clothes without offending tho proprieties than a woman, I do not know. When a Moor washes his clothes it is because they need washing, and. not for the absurd reason simply that Saturday night has come around, and, as a Moor from his out-door lifo can kick like u mule, they kick their clothes clean instead of icrubbing them. They seem to have regular washing bees when they get together at ths river banks, provided with largo flat stones; then they soak their clothes in Moorish soap until the tertiary period has had a chance to soften, after which the real un commences. A thorough artist places his wash on the fl it stone, cuts a double pi jeon-wing with each log in turn, taps the insilo of his knee with his oppodto foot before ho brings it down with a spank like tho fond caress of childhood, making at tho same time a noise with his mouth, similar to the escape of a Westinghouse engine, while the dirt of ages flees in all directions, and all hands, or rather feet, keep time with the regularity of a dance; for the Moorish jai it of tho washtub is sup pos’d to hover around and fl ip his cel estial wings in contentment as long as the racket is kept up in this manner.— (Boston Transcript. The Language of Animals, Mock anger seems to bo rather com mon among birds. There is in them, when caged, somo suppressed excite ment or fury, especially in tho spring. Every one who knows a parrot knows that a perfectly reciprocal fondness is no protection against his Lite. Tho one I know bites bis best friend deeply, and roars with laughter. Tho little birds use a kind of flirtation of defiance with the overwhelming power of thoic they know intimately. A skilled bird tamer, I believe, puts his hand into the cage, and when the bird moves, withdraws it hurriedly, as if in fear This invites the bird to a contempt which becomes the foundation for familiarity; and tho de vice is founded, I suppose, on that ad venturous and provocative spirit in the bird which prompts the bullfinches to icold and Lully the master whose favor# they value. Does a puppy bark and snap In play in something ii£e the same tem per! 1 might mention a goldfinch I mow, which, I think, never fails to dii tluguish its partial miitres* from all »t! era by au outburst of swearing aa4 ufflug. [London Bpectator. NO. 40.