Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XX.
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, SUNDAY, JANUARY 6, 1878.
NO. 6
THE OF THE NO.TTH*.
A VST IN DOBSON.
Firstly thou, churl son of Janus.
Rough for cold, In drugget clad,
Com’st with rack and rheum to pain us;—
Firstly thou, churl son of Janus,
flavored now in old Sylvanus;
Numb and chill are maid und lad.
After tliee, thy dripping brother,
Dank his weeds around him cling;
Mist his footsteps swathe and smother,—
After thee thy dripping brother,
Heart-set couples hush each other.
Listening for the cry of Spring,
Hark ! for March thereto doth follow,
Blithe—a herald tabarded;
O'er him tiles the shifting swallow,—
Hark ! for March thereto doth follow.
Swift his horn, by holt and hollow,
Wakes the flowers In Winter dead.
Thou then, April, Iris' daughter.
Born between the storm and suu ;
Coy as nymph ere Ban hath caught her,
Thou then, April, Iris' daughter.
Now are light, and rustling water;
Now are mirth and nests begun.
.May the jocund cometh after,
Month of all the Loves (and mine;)
Month of mock and cuckoo laughter.
May the jocund cometh after,
Beaks are gay on roof and rafter;
Luckless lovers peak and pine.
June the next, with roses scented,
languid from a slumber-spell;
June in shade of leafage tented;—
kme the next, with roses scented.
Now her Itys. still lamented,
Sings tlie mournful Philomel.
Hot July thereafter rageth,
]log-star smitten, wild with lieHt;
Fierce as pard the hunter eageth,
Hot July thereafter rageth;
Truffle now no more engageth;
Tongues are still In stall and street.
August next, with cider mellow,
Laughs from out the poppied corn ;
Hook at back, a lusty fellow,
August next, with cider mellow,
Now In wains thesheafage yellow,
'Twixt the hedges slow is borne.
Laden deep with fruity cluster.
Then September, ripe and hale;
Bees about his basket fluster,
Laden deep with fruity cluster,
.Skies have now a softer lustre;
Barns resound to flap of flail.
Thou llien too, of woodlands lover,
Dusk October, berry-stained;
Walled about of parting plover,
Thou then too, of woodlands lover.
Failing now are corpse and cover;
Forests now are sere and waned.
Next November, limping, battered.
Blinded In a whirl ol leaf;
Worn of want und travel-tattered,
Next November, limping, battered,
Now the goodly ships are scattered.
Far at sea, on rock and reef.
Last ofnil the shrunk December
Cowled forage, in ashen gray;
Fading like a fading ember.
Lost of all the shrunk December,
Him regarding, men remember
Life and joy must pass away.
—Good Words.
From the Galaxy,]
APPLIED SCIENCE.
A Love Story in Two Chapters.
HY CHAHLKS BARNARD.
CTIAFTCR I.
CO XT I N UK I>.
The student of pure science w«s sur
prised beyond measure. What had
nappenetl? What new blunder had
he committed? With till his deep
study of tilings material he was igno
rant of things emotional and senti
mental. This exhibition of anger
and grief in his pretty cousin utterly
disconcerted him. He did not know
what to do, nor what to think, and
he stood in the glare of his lantern
for a moment or two : n deep thought.
Then he closed (he lantern and
turning round, examined the shadowy
picture thrown upon the wall. It
represented a young man and a young
woman seated upon the wooden rail
of the bridge in the open air, and in
most loving embrace. His arm was
about her waist, and he was looking
in her face. His straw hat hid his
features, but. the face of the young
woman was turned toward the ca
mera that had so perfectly mirrowed
them both. She seemed to be a young
and pretty girl in the more lowly
walks of life, and her lover seemed to
l>e a gentleman. What a pity he
hadn't looked up! Who could he
be? And she? Alma’s remark
plainly showed that she at least knew
the girl, and for some reason was hotly
indignant with her.
Thinking he had made trouble
enough already, Elmer took one mora
good look at the picture, and then
prepared to destroy it. Something
about the young man’s hat struck
him as familiar. It was a paname
hat, and had two ribbons wound
round it in a fanciful manner that
was not exactly conventional.
He silently opened a shutter, and
the pictures laded away. He •drew
up the curtains and looked out on the
bridge. The young couple had dis
appeared. Poor innocents! They
little knew how their pictures had
betm taken in spite of themselves, and
they little knew the tragic and terri
ble consequences that were to flow
from the stolen photograph so
strangely made. Elmer took the
little slide from the lantern, and was
on the point of shivering it to frag
ments on the hearthstone, when in'
paused in deep thought. Was it wise
to destroy it ? Had he not better
preserve it? Perhaps he could some
day solve the mystery that hung
about it, and find out the cause of Al
ma’s grioland anger. Perhaps he might
help her; there came a softening about
his heart that seemed both now and
wonderfully unscientific.
Shortly after this the dinner hell
rang, and he went down to the din
ing room. Alma sent word that she
had a severe headache and could not
appear. Mr. Belford was already
there, and lie looked at Mr. Frankliii
with an expression that made the
voting man uncomfortably in spite of
himself. Mr. Denny was unusually
thoughtful and silent, and conversa
tion between the younger men was
not jiarticularly brilliant or enter
taining. At last the dreary meal was
finished. Mr. Belford rose first ami
went out into the hall. Mr. Frank
lin followed him. and saw something
that quite took his breath away.
There lay the hat of the photo
graph, double ribbon and all. Mr.
Belford quietly took it up and put it
on, and it fitted him perfectly. Elmer
stopped abruptly and looked at the
man with the utmost interest. The
confidential, the chimney builder,
P*id no attention, and quickly passed
on out of the front door.
“E. Franklin, you have made a dis
covery. Tlie pursuit of pure science
never showed anything half so inter
esting as this. You had better raise a
. U( J °n the subject, (tad! It’s
cloudy enough already!”
Tliib to himself as he slowly went
mpentia. It’s
take it out for
up stairs to his room. Selecting a
pipe, he filled it, and findidg a com
fortable seat, he fired up and prepared
to examine mentally the events of the
day.
“It was the confidential, making
love to some village lieauty, supposed
to be ‘Green,’ by name, if not by na
ture. Alma loves him. That’s"bad.
Perhaps she’s engaged to him. Has
she a ring? Yes—saw it the other
day. The affair is cloudy—and—Gad!
Blessed if l don’t keep that lantern
slide! It may be of use some day.
Come in.”
This last was in response to
knock at the door. Mr. Belford en
tered, panama hat with two ribbons
in hand.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Franklin. I
thought J might find you here.”
“Yes, I’m at leisure. What can I
do for you? Smoke?”
“No; 1 can’t to-day. The fact is
I’ve a bad tooth and smoking troubles
it.”
“Indeed? Let me see it. I’m a bit
of a dentist.”
“Areyou? That’s fortunate, for it
aches sadly, and our nearest dentist
is live miles away.
“Sit right here by the window,
where I can have a good light.’
Mr. Belford, a physical coward,
could not bear pain; and though he
was unwilling to be under obligations
to one whom he considered a mere
boy, lie sat down in the proffered
chair, and opened his mouth duti
fully.
“All, yes—tied ten
quite gone. Shall I
you?”
“Will it be painful?”
“No. I’ll give you nitrous oxide.
Without it it might be very painful,
for the tooth is much broken down.”
Mr. Belford hesitated. Had he bet
ter place himself so utterly at the
mercy of this young man ?
“It will passott’in a moment, and
leave no ill effects behind. You had
better take it.”
“Well, I will; but make it very
mild, for I am afraid of these new
fangled notiods.”
“You need have no fear,” said El
mer, bringing up bis iron box of ni
trous oxide, and selecting a pair of
fsreeps from the mass of instruments
in one of bis trunks.
“It’s very odd. It’s the merest
chance that I happened to have a pair
of forceps. Are you ready now? Put
this tube in your mouth, and breathe
easily and naturally.”
Thepatient leaned back in the chair,
and the amateur stood silently watch
ing him.
“It’s a fearful risk, but I’m going to
try it. I succeeded with Alma, and I
fancy I can with this fool. He was a
fool to run rigid into my arms in this
fashion. No wonder his wisdom tooth
was rotten. I’ll have it out in a mo
ment.”
All this to himself. The patient
closed his eyes, and fell into a deep
sleep.
“Take it strong. It will not hurt
you, and 1 must keep you quiet till
the deed is done.”
High science was to be brought to
bear upon rascality, and he must
move cautiously and quickly. The
instant the patient was unconscious,
Elmer bent over him and turned back
his coat, and from the inside pocket
lie drew forth a folded paper. He
had caught a glimpse of it when he
looked in the man’s mouth, and on
the spur of the moment he had con
ceived and put into practice this bold
stroke of applied science. Making
the man comfortable, and giving him
a littleair with the gas, lie ojiened the
paper and spread it wide open before
a pile of books in the full sunlight.
The patient stirred uneasily. With a
breathless motion Elmer plied him
with more gas, and he sighed softly
and slumbered deeper than ever.
With a spring lie reached the camera,
rolled it up before the paper, and set
in a new slide. It copied the paper
with terrible certainty, and then,
without reading it, Elmer folded the
paper up again and restored it to his
patient’s pocket.
The patient revived. He put his
hand in his mouth. The tooth was
still there.
“Why, you didn’t touch it?”
“No. 1 was delayed a bit. Take
the gas again.”
The man submitted, and inhaled
more gas. At the instant he slum
bored the forceps were deftly plied
and the tooth removed. Bathing the
man’s face with water, the young den
tist watched him closely till he re
vived again.
“Do you feel better?”
“Better! Why, I’m not hurt! 1
t really out?”
“Yes. There it is in the wash
bowl.”
You did very well, young man.
Excellently. I’m sure I’m much
obliged.”
You’re welcome,” replied Mr.
Franklin, “It was a trifling affair.”
Repeating his thanks, the visitor
put on his hat with its two ribbons
iiui retired.
For an hour or more the youthful
son of science worked over his new
negatives, and then he quietly closed
the shutters and lighted his stereopti-
on. The first picture he threw upon
the wall greatly pleased him. With
half-parted lips, a placid smile, and
losed eyes, the sleeping Alma lived
in shadowy beauty before him.
“Queer such a charming girl should
belong to such a fool!”
Not choice language for a son of
pure-eyed science, but history is his
tory, and the truth must be told.
“Now for the paper.”
He took Alma’s stolen picture from
tin* lantern, and inserted in its place a
positive copy of the paper he had cap
tured from her lover. Suddenly there
flashed upon the wall a document of
the most startling and extraordinary
character. He read it through several
times before lie could bring himself
to understand the peculiar nature of
tin* important discovery he had made.
Long and earnestly lie gazed upon
the gigantic writing on the wall, and
then be sfowiy opened one of the
shutters, and the magic writing faded
away in the rosy light of the setting-
sun.
A moment after the tea bell rang.
This over, young Mr. Franklin said
he must go out for his evening consti
tutional. He wished to be alone. The
events of the day, the discoveries he
had made, and, more than all,Alma’s
grief and silence at the supper table,
disturbed him. He wished more air,
more freedom to think over these
tilings and to devise some plan for
future action.
Alma. What of her ? Was he not
growing to like her—perhaps love
her? And she was engaged to that
—that—he could not think of him
with patience. The chimney, the
two in the photo, and the strange
paper: what did they all mean ? Why
were both father and daughter in such
evident distress? He pondered these
things as he walked through the
shadowy lanes, and then, about eight
o’clock, he returned, in a measure
composed and serene.
There was a light in the parlor, and
he went in and found Alma alone.
“Oli, Elmer! I’m glad you’ve come.
It’s very lonely here. Father has
gone to" bed quite ill, and Lawrence
asked me to sit up till he returned.
He’s gone down to the village on
some business. I can’t see why he
should. The stores are closed and the
last train has gone.”
She made a place for him on the
sofa, and he satdown beside her. For
some time they talked indifferently
upon various matters—the weather,
the heat of the day, and like triviali
ties.
Suddenly she turned upon him, and'
said, with ill-surpressed excitement :
“What did you do with it, Elmer?”
“Do with what?”,
“The picture.”
“Oh, yes—the lantern slide. I wisli
I had never made it. It’s up stairs
in my room.”
“You didn’t know it was Alice
Green?”
“No. How should I? I did not
know who either of tiie people was
till the picture was thrown upon the
wall.”
“Do you know now—know both
of them, I mean ?”
“Yes—1 think I do. One was Mr.
“Yes, Elmer, you may as well say
it. It was Lawrence.” *
Elmer could think of nothing to
say, and wisely said nothing. After
a brief pause Alma said slowly, as if
talking to herself:
“Jt was a cruel thing to do.”
“1 did not mean to be cruel.”
“Oh, my dear—cousin, don’t think
of it in that way. It was Lawrence
who was so cruel.”
“ Yes. It was not very gentleman
ly; but perhaps he does not care for—
for this person.”
He does. The picture was only
confirmation of what 1 hud heard be
fore. 1 have done with him,” she
added, in a sort of suppressed despera
tion. “I’m going to break our engage
meat this very night. 1 know it will
nearly break my heart, and father
will be very angry, but Elmer, come
nearer; let me tell you about it. I’m
afraid of him. He* has such an evil
eye, and you remember the chimney
—tlie day you came—I thought he
would kill you he was so angry.”
Evidently she was in sore trouble.
Even her language was marked by
doubt and difficulty.
“Advise me, Elmer. Tell me what
to do. I hardly know which way to
turn, and I’m so lonely. Father is so
busy every day, ami J can’t talk to
him. And Lawrence—1 dare not
trust him.”
Here site began to cry softly and
hid her face in her handkerchief. The
son of science was perplexed. What
should he do or say? All this was
new to him. That a young and pret
ty girl should appeal to him with
such earnestness disconcerted him,
and lie did not know how to act. A
problem in triangulation or knotty
question in physics would have
charmed him and" braced him up for
any work. This was so new and so
peculiar that lie said, “Don’t cry,
cousin,” and repented it at once as*a
silly speech.
“I must. It does me good.”
“Then I would.”
Thereupon they both laughed
heartily and felt better. He recover
ed his wits at once.
“Do you think you reallv love
him?”
The man of scince is himself again.
“No, 1 don’t.”
“Then—well, it’s hardly my place
to say it.”
“Then break tlie engagement.
That’s what you mean. I intend to
do so; but, Elmer, I wish you could
be here with me.”
“It would be impossible. Oh! I’ve
an idea.”
“Have you? There! I knew you’d
help me. You are so bright, Elmer,
and so kind ”
He nipped her enthusiasm in the
bud.
“Do you think you could telegraph
to me from your pocket ?”
“i don’t know what you mean.”
“You know tlie letters now per
fectly, and if you had your hand on
an armature, you could send off mes
sages quickly.”
“Yes. You know I learned the al
phabet in one day, and it’s nearly a
week since you put up that line to my
room. Think how we have talked
with it already. And you remember
the tea table, when the Lawsons and
the Stebbens were here. Didn’t I
answer all your questions about Min
na Lawson while I was talking with
her by tapping on the table with a
spoon ?”
“Yes. So far so good: but now I’m
going to try a most dangerous and
difficult piece of scientific work, and
you must help me. My plan is for
you to keep in telegraphic communi
cation with me while the interview
goes on. Then, if lie is insulting or
troublesome, you can call me.”
“How bright of you, Elmer. If
Lawrence had been half so good and
kind and bright—if he knew half as
much—1 might have loved him
longer.”
“Wait a bit and I’ll get the lines.”
“May I go too?”
“Oh*yes, come.”
The two went softly up the hall
stairs, through the long entry to the
L, and into Elmer’s room. They set
the lamp on tlie table, and Elmer
dragged forth from the scientific con
fusion of the place a collection of tel
egraphic apparatus of all kinds.
“There’s the battery. That I’ll keep
here. There is tlie recording instru
ment. That I’ll keep here also. Now
you want a small armature to open
and close the current. Wait a bit I’d
better make one.”
Alma sat down on a box, and her
new Lohengrin set to work with
hears and file to make something
that would answer for an armature
and still be small enough to hide in
the hand. Cutting off two small
nieces of insulated copper wire he
nound them together side by side at
one end. The loose ends lie separa
ted by crowding a bit of rubber be
tween them, and then with the file
and his knife he removed a part of
the insulating covering till the bright
copper showed at the tips of each
wire.
“There! You can hide that in the
pocket of your dress, or hold it in
your hand even. When you wish to
close the circuit, pinch the wires, and
they will touch each other. When
vou withdraw the pressure the rub
ber will push them apart.”
Alma declared she could do it easi
ly, and the armature having been
connected with the wires and battery
they both prepared to go to the par
lor."
Down the stairs they crept, slowly
unwinding two delicate coils of insu
lated wire as they went, and pushing
them back against the wall well out
of sight. When they came to the
mats Alma lifted them up, and El
mer laid the wires down, and then
the mats covered them from sight.
“Now, you sit here in a comforta
ble chair, and hide the wires in the
folds of your dress. I’ll lead them of
over the carpet behind you. and un
less tlie—Lawrence is brighter than
I think he is, he’ll not find them.”
These mysterious operations were
hardly completed before the door bell
rang and Lawrence came in. He
did not seem particularly pleased to
find Mr. Franklin sitting up with
Alma, and the meeting was not very
cordial. After a few unimportant re
marks Mr. Franklin said that he
must retire.
“I’d like to know, miss, what that
puppy said to you. He’s been here
all the evening, I dare say.”
“He has Lawrence, but I will not
have my friends spoken of in that
way.”
“Your friends, indeed! What do
you intend to do about it?”
Meanwhie her hand, persistently
kept in her pocket, nervously moved
the electric armature, and a sudden
twinge of pain startled her. Her
finger caught between the wires, felt
the shock of a returning current.
Suddenly the pain flashed again, and
she understood it. Elmer was re
plying to her. She forced herself to
read his words by tlie pain tlie wires
caused her, and she spelled out:
“Keep cool. Don’t fearhim.”
“Seems to me you’re precious silent
miss.”
“One might well keep silence while
you use such language as you do,
Lawrence Belford.”
“Whose a better right?”
“No man has a right not be a gen
tleman, and as for your right, I have
decided to withdraw it.”
“What do you mean?” lie cried in
sudden anger.
She drew her liaml out of her pock
et, slowly took off’ her engagement
ring, and said,
“That.”
“Oh! We’ll have none of that.
You may put your ring on again.”
“I shall never wear it again.”
“Yes, you will.”
“I shall not.”
“Look here, Miss Denny. We’ll
have no nonsense. You are going to
marry the next week. I suppose you
know that the mortgage is to be fore
closed on Monday, and you and your
father will be beggars. I knowhow
to stop all this, and 1 can doit. Marry
me, and go to New York with me on
Wednesday, and the mortgage will
be withdrawn.”
“We may find the will before that.”
“Oh! You may, you may. You
and your father have’been searching
for that will these ten years. You
haven’t found it yet, and you won’t.”
Alma under any ordinary circum
stances would have quailed before
this man. As it was those trails of
copper wire down her dress kept her
busy. She rapidly sent off through
them nearly all that was said, and
her knight of the battery sat upstairs
copying it off alone in his room, and
almost swearing with anger and ex
citement.
Suddenly the messages stopped. He
listened sharply at the door. Not a
sound. The old house was still as a
grave. Several minutes passed and
nothing came. What had happened?
Hail he cut the wires? Had Alma
fainted? Suddenly the sounder spoke
out sharp and clear in the silent
room!
“Elmer, come!” •
He seized a revolver from the bu
reau, and thrusting it into his pocket
tore off the white strip of paper that
had rolled out of the instrument, and
with it in his hand he went quickly
down stairs. He opened the door
without knocking, and advanced in
to the mi<Idle of the room.
The moment he entered, Alma
sprang up from her seat, pulling out
the two wires as she did so, and
throwing her arm about the young
man, she cried out in an agony of
tear and shame:
Oh, Elmer, Elmer! Take me
away ! Take me to my father!”
He supjKirted her with his right
arm, and turned to face her assailant
with the crumpled ribbon of paper
still in his hand.
“What does this mean, sir? Have
you been ill treating my cousin ?”
“Go to bed, boy. It’s very late for
school children to be up.”
“Your language is insulting, sir. I
repeat it. What have you said or
done to Miss Denny?”
“Oh! Come away! come away, El
mer!”
“None of your business, you pup
py.”
“There is no need to ask what you
said, sir. I know every word and
have made a copy of it.”
“All! Listening, were you?”
“No, sir. Miss Denny has told me.
Do you see those wires? They will
entangle you yet and trip you up.”
“Come away, Elmer. Come
away.”
“For the present I will retire, sir;
but mark me, your game is nearly
up.”
“By, by, children. Good night.
Remember your promise, Miss Den
ny. The carriage will be all ready.”
Without heeding this last remark.
Elmer, with his eousin on his arm,
withdrew. As they closet! the door
the telegraph wires caught in tlie
carpet and broke. Tlie man saw
them, and picking one up, lie exam
ined it closely.
Suddenly he dropped it and turned
ashen pale. With all his bravado, he
quailed before those slender wires
upon the carpet. He did not under
stand them. He guessed they might
be some kind of telegraph, but be*
yond this everything was vague and
mysterious, and they filled him with
guilty alarm and terror.
CHAPTER II.
The events of the last chapter hap
pened on the night of Friday, July
17, 1S74. The following day," Satur
day, broke calm, clear and warm.
Elmer awoke early, carefully looked
out of a crack in his window curtain,
and found that the chinev-builder’s
room was empty.
“The enemy has flown. I wonder
if Alma is up?”
He uncovered a small telegraphic
armature and sounder standing on
the window-seat, and touched it gen
tly. In an instant there was a re
sponse, and Alma replied that she
was up and dressed and would soon
be down.
She met him in the library,smiling
and apparently happy.
“Oh, Elmer, he has gone away. He
left a note on the breakfast table, say-
tliat that he had gone to New York,
and that he should not return till
Monday or Tuesday.”
“That’s very good; but I think it
means mischief.”
Just here the breakfast bell rang.
The table was set for four, but Alma
and Elmer were the only ones who
could answer the call, and they sat
down to the table alone. They*talk
ed of various matters of little conse
quence, and when the meal was over
Elmer announced that as the day was
quiet, he should make a little* pho
tographing expedition about the
neighborhood.
“My visit here is now more than
quarter over, and I wish to take home
some photos of the place. Will you
not go with me ?”
“With all my heart, if I can leave
father. But please not talk of going
home yet. I hope you will not go
till ^things are settled. We want
you, Elmer. You are so wise and
strong, and—you know what
mean.”
Perhaps I do. At any rate I’m not
going till I have paid up that Belford
for his insults.”
“Oh, let’s not talk of him to-day.”
This was eminently wise. They
had better enjoy the day of peace that
was before them. The shadow of the
coming events already darkened
their lives, though they kney it not
Mr. Denny was so much better that
he could spare Alma, and about ten
o’clock she appeared, paper umbrella
in hand, at the porch, and Elmer
soon joined her bearing- a small cam
era, and a light wooden tripod for its
support.
The two spent the morning happy
in each other’s company, and at one
o’clock returned to dinner with quite
a number of negatives of various ob
jects of interest about the place. After
dinner the young man retreated to
his room to prepare for tlie battle that
he felt sure would rage on the follow
ing Monday.
He did not know all the circum
stances of the trouble that had inva
ded tlie family, but he felt sure that
the confidential clerk intended some
terrible shame or exposure that in
some way concerned his cousin Al
ma. So it was he came to tall him
self her Lohenegrin, come to fight
her battles, not with the sword, but
with the telegraph, the camera, and
the micro-lantern.
The Sabbath passed quietly, and
the Monday came. After breakfast
the student retreated to his room and
tried to study, but could not.
About ten o’clock he heard a car
riage of some kind stop before the
house. His room being at the rear,
lie could not see who had come, and
thinking that it might be mere
ly some stray visitor, and that at
least it did not concern him, he turn
ed to his books and made another at
tempt to read.
After some slight delay he heard
the carriage drive away, and the old
house became very still. Then he
heard a door open down stairs, and
a moment after one of the maids
knocked at his door.
“Would Mr. Franklin kindly come
down stairs? Mr. Denny wished to
see him in the library.” *
He would come at once; and pick
ing up a number of unmounted pho
tographs from the table he prepared
to go down stairs. He hardly knew
why lie should take the pictures just
then. There seemed no special rea
son why he should show them to
Mr. Denny; still an indefinite feeling
urged him to take them with him.
The library was a small room, dark
with heavy book shelves against the
walls, and crowded with tables, desk
and easy chairs. There was a student
lamp on the centre table, and in a
corner stood a large iron safe. Mr,
Denny was seated at the table with
his back to the door, with his head
supported by his hand and arm. He
did not seem to notice the arrival of
his visitor, and Elmer advanced to
the tab!e and laid the photographs
upon it.
“I am glad you have come, Mr.
Franklin. I wish to talk with you
1 wish to tell you something. A great
affliction has "fallen upon us, and I
wisli you, as our guest, to be prepar
ed for it. I think I can trust you,
Elmer Franklin. I remember your
mother, my boy. You have her fea
tures—and I will trust you for her
sake. We are ruined.
“How,sir? How is that possible,
with ali your property ?”
“Not one cent of my property—not
a foot of ground, or a single brick, or
piece of shafting in the mills—be
longs to me.”
“This is terrible, sir. How did it
happen ?”
“It is a short and sad story. I was
my father’s only child,and there were
no other heirs. My lather’s last ill
ness was very sudden, and he left no
will. He told me when he died that
he had left everything to me. We
never found any will that would
bear out this assertion. However,
the ordinary process of law gave me
the property and I thought myself
secure. Suddenly a will was found,
in which all the property was left to
a distant relative in New York, and
l was merely mentioned with some
trifling gift. I contested the will and
lost the case. It was an undoubted
will, and in niv father’s own hand
writing, and dated more than a year
before he died and when I was rusti
cating from college. I thought
I must needs sow my wild
oats, and day after to-morrow I pay
for them all by total beggary. The
devisee, by the will, acted very
strangely about the property. He
did not disturb me for a very long
time. He probably feared to do so;
and then he made a mortgage of one
hundred thousand dollars on the
property, took the money and went
abroad.”
“And lie left you here in posses
sion ?”
“Yes. Tlie interest on the mort
gage became due. There was no one
to pay it, and they even had the ef
frontery to come to me. I refused
again and again, and every time the
interest was added to the* mortgage
till it rolled up to an enormous
amount. Meanwhile the devisee
died, penniless, in Europe, and on
Wednesday, Abrams, the lawyer who
holds the mortgage, is to take posses
sion of everything—and we—we are
to go—I know not whither.”
For a few moments there was a pro
found silence in the room. The elder
man mourned his dreadful fate, and
the son of science was ready to shout
for joy. Restraining'himself with
an effort, he said, not without a tre
mor in his voice:
“And have you searched for any
other will ?”
“That is an idle question, my son.
We have searched these years.' Then
too, just as I need a staff’ for my de
clining years, it breaks under me.”
“You refer to Mr. Belford, sir?”
“Yes. Since I injured my foot in
the mill, I have trusted all my affairs
to him, and now I sometimes think
he is playing me false. Even now,
when all this trouble has come upon
me, he is absent, and I have no one
to consult, nor do I find any to aid or
comfort me.”
“Perhaps I can aid you, sir.”
“I do not know. I fear no one can
avail us now.”
“May I be very frank with you,
sir?”
“Certainly. I am past all pride or
fear. There can be nothing worse
now.”
“I think, sir, you have placed too
much confidence in that man. He
is not trustworthy.”
“How do you know? Can you
prove it?”
“Yes, sir. You remember the new
chimney?”
“Yes; but he explained that, and
collected all the money that had been
paid on tlie supposed extra height of
the chimney.”
“That was very easy, sir, for he
had it in his own pocket. I met
some of the work people in the vil
lage, and casually asked them how
high the chimney was to be, and eve
ry man gave the real height. Mr.
Belford lied to you about it, and pock
eted the difference between his meas
urements and mine. Of course, when
detected he promptly restored the
money, and thought himself lucky to
have escaped so easily. More than
that, he claimed that* the chimney
was capped with stone. It is not. It
is brick to the top, and the upper
courses were rubbed over with color
ed plaster.”
“I can hardly believe it. Besides,
how can you prove it?”
“That will, sir. Look at it care
fully.”
So saying, Elmer selected a photo
graph from those on the table and
presented it to Mr. Denny.
The old gentleman looked at it
carefully fora few moments,and then
said with an air of conviction—
‘It is a perfect fraud. I had no
idea that the man was such a thief.”
“Yes, sir. Look at that bare place
where the plaster has fallen oft’. You
can see the brick ”
Oli, I can see. There is no need
to explain the picture. Have you any
more?”
“Yes, sir; quite a number. I’m
glad I brought them with me.”
Mr. Denny turned them over slow
ly, and commented briefly upon
them.
“That’s the house. Very well done,
my boy. That’s the mill. Excel
lent. I should know it<at once. And
—eh! what’s that? The batting
mill?”
“Yes, sir. That’s the new building
going up beyond the millpond.”
“Great heavens ! What an outra
geous fraud ! Mr. Belford told me it
was nearly done. He has drawn al
most all the money for it already,and
according to this picture only one sto
ry is up. When was this picture ta
ken?”
“On Saturday, sir. Alma was with
me. She will tell !you.”
Mr. Denny rang a small bell that
stood at his elbow, and a maid came
to the door.
“Will you call Miss Denny, An
na?”
The maid retired, and in a moment
or two Alma appeared. She seemed
pale and dejected, and she sat down
at once as if weary.
“What is it, father? Any new
troubles ?”
“Were you with your cousin when
he took this photograph ?”
She looked at it a moment and then
said wearily:
“Yes. It’s the batting mill.”
Just here the door opened, and Mr.
Belford, hat and travelling bag in
hand, as if just from the station, en
tered the room. The two men look
ed up in undisguised amazement, but
Alma cast her eyes upon the floor,and
her face seemed to put on a more ash
en hue than ever.
“Ah! excuse me. I did mot mean
to intrude. I’m just from New York
and I have been so successful that I
hastened to lay the news before
you.”
“What have you to say Mr. Bel
ford,” said Mr. Denny, coldly. “There
are none but friends here, and
you need not fear to speak.”
Mr. Franklin hastily gathered up
the pictures together", and rolling
them up put them in his pocket,with
tlie mental remark, that he “knew
of one who was not a friend—no not
much.”
“I have arranged everything,” said
Mr. Belford, with sublime audacity.
The note has been taken up. I have
even obtained a release of
the mortgage, and here is the cancel
led note and the release. To-morrow
I will have it recorded.”
We are in no mood for pleasantry,
Mr. Belford. The sheriff’was here to
day, and Abrams is to take posses
sion on Wednesday.”
“Oh, I knew that. He did not
get my telegram in time, or he would
have saved you all this unnecessary
annoyance. And now everything is
all serene, ami there is Abram’s re
lease in full.”
He took out a carefully folded pa
per, and gave it to Mr. Denny. He
read it in silence, and then said:
“It seems to be quite correct. VVe
BANKING AND INSURANCE.
INSURANCE DEPOSIT
Made Toy tlie
Georgia Home
INSURANCE COMPiffY,
In the State of Georgia, tor tlie protection of her policy holders.
OUR DPOSIT is ample for the protection of our patrons.
WE REPRESENT TIIE
BBMEOF XEW YORK Capital and Assets $ 6.500,000
LONDON ASSURANCE CORPORATION “ •« “ 14,000,000
MOBILE UNDERWRITERS’ « “ « 1,250,000
PETERSBURG SAVINGS and INSURANCE... <• “ 600,000
•**' Bisks will be written at rates as low. Adjustments will be made as liberally, and payments
made as promptly, as by any other first-class company represented in Georgia.
Office in Georgia Home building
sepl6 eodtf
“THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.”
+ () +
THE OLDEST LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY IN THE UNITED STATES.
Incorporated 1800.
Tie New England Mutual Li InsnrancnCo.,
BOSTON,
Assets, January, 1877,
Premiums Received in 1870,
Interest Received in 1870,
Death Claims Paid in 1870,
$14,515,802.00
1,096,280.84
804,531.47
806,462.00
POLICIES ol this noted OLI) COMPANY are issued under the Massachusetts Non-
I Forfeiture I.;uv, by which policy-holders are protected for a given time alter payments
°‘ * r®"H um llave c««ed. no other condition of the policy' being violated. Under the law
the NEtV ENGLAND MUTUAL LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY paid in 1875 #77,351.70-
and in 1S70, $25,000 on :!1 policies, on which the premium payments had ceased.
During the last 33 years, this company lias issued policies to the amount of $150 000 000
uiioii ,»,000 lives, and has paid in death claims and endowments $10,000,000, and lias return-
id t<> its policy-holders more than $7,000,000 in dividends.
Heing a purely Mutual Company, every holder of a policy is a member of the Company,
and is entitled to a vote at its annual meetings, and toliisfull pro rata of the entire profits
of the Company.
With a membership of 21,000, ail ample reserved fund and an
«,000,000, it is safe to say that the future operations of tlie Comp
tageous as those of tiie past have been.
aa£*The Di vidends in this Company are equal to those of any other, and the
Interest Receipts of the past t no years have been sufficient to pay all death
claims.
Applications received and policies promptly issued through
D. F WILLCOX, Agent,
*71 Brnaii
annual income exceeding
Company will prove as ailvnn-
deel eodtf
R. B. MURDOCH’S
INSURANCE AGENCY!
No. 92 Broad. Sreet,
Representing Fourteen Million Dollars Capital.
SOUTHERN MUTUAL INSURANCE COMPANY, Athens, Ga.
PHNENIX INSURANCE ( 0MPANY, Hartford, Conn.
MANHATTAN INSURANCE COMPANY, New York.
LANCASHIRE INSURANCE COMPANY, Manchester, Eng.
SOUTHERN MUTUAL returns fifty per cent, premium to the Insured, and
no liability to policy holders.
MANHATTAN will insure Gin Houses at lowest ruling rates.
$25,000 deposited with the State as security for policy holders.
[uug21 lyj
GROCERIES.
A. M. ALLEN, President.
O. S. JORDAN, Treasurer.
Pioneer Stores.
tnt-
CliarteredL Capital, - - $30,000.
Pioneer Buildings, Front Street, opposite E. &
P. Mills.
|TW O ISTEW S T OB IE! S
FULL OF
NEW GOODS 2
AGENTS FOR CHEW ACL A LIME COMFY,
AND WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
GENERAL MBHOHANDISB.
GROCERY DEPARTMEMT,
DRY GOODS DEPARTMENT,
CROCKERY OF EVERY STYLE,
CLOTHING IN ENDLESS VARIETY,
BOOTS and SHOES, especially made for us.
I jlVERI THING NEW ! Everything bought for cash. Everything sold close. The cele-
j brated CAEWACLA LIM E, by car load, barrel or bushel. All retail purchases deliv
ered m Browneville, Girard, Hose 11 i 11, Wynn ton and the city.
A. M. ALLEN, late of Allen, Freer A- Illges; OSCAR S. JORDAN, late salesman Eagle &
Phemx; THOS. CHAPMAN, late i hapman & Verstille; WM. COOPER, late Grocer, will be
happy to see you. aug20 U
CARRIAGES, WAGONS, Ac.
EC- CL nve^KLEE
GUNBY BUILDING, ST. CLAIR STREET,
—DEALER IN—
Almu suddenly dropped he head
upon her breast, and slid to the door
in a confused heap. She thought she
read in that fatal receipt her death
warrant. Nature rebelled and mer
cifully took away her senses.
Elmer sprang to the rescue, but Mr
Belford intruded himself.
“It is my place, Mr. Franklin. She
is to he my wife.”
[to p.e continued.]
Effervescing Drink.—Mix two
ounces of tartaric acid and two oun
ces of carbonate of soda with eight
ounces of sifted lump sugar dust, or
like propotions, as the case may be.
A desert spoonful in a tumbler of cold
water, with or without milk, will ef
fervesce, and form an agreeable bev
erage, either in winter or summer. A
small quantity of moist sugar and
powdered ginger may be added for
use, if required.
Chicken Colera.—A gentleman
says that after losing one hundred
chickens by the cholera he found that
a tablespoonful of soda mixed with a
quart of milk and given with
lood was a cure.
the
Of Every Description, at Prices to suit the times.
W HAT you don't see ask for, and lie will exhibit cuts (from
reliabli ' " '
will furnish upon short notice, at nianufaeturer’s prices. All
work sold and warranted will be protected.
Has now in stock and will continue to receive fresh supplies,
of
Buggy, Carriage and other Harness; Gents’ and
Ladies’ Saddles in great variety; Collars,
Hames, Bridles,&c.; Whips,Curry
Combs, Horse Brushes,&c.
ter ALL WILL HE SOLD AT CLOSE PRICES.
octlG d&wly TT
MARK A. BRADFORD,
CAKK1AUK,
Bieev and WA<J0>
HABSiaw,
Bridles, Collars, Whips,
Ladies’ and Gents’
TRUNKS!
and
SATCHELS.
WH01ESALE AND RETAIL
DEALER IN
SADDLES AND
Men’s, Boys’ and La
dies’
SADDLES,
HARNESS! 8ole ’ LT&.T rn '“
LEATHER
Enameled Cloth.
Orders by mail promptly attended to.
SADDLES AND HARNESS Made to Order.
te^MR, MIDDLEBR00K Is still with me, at his Old Stand, 94 Broad Ht.
OQtUl