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JACKSON CO. PUB. COM’Y, )
Proprietors. \
volume iv.
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‘ JEFFERSON, JACKSON CO <7J.
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• 'w- *■ >* ■ '—Msri’T—DJMi M ■!■'■■■ . w urm cjrraoßuaw——:
Ja’jinf JliiiH’rtisemeiitß.
Jackson Sheriff’s Sales.
ILL ho sold before the Court House door, in
W the town of Jefferson. Jackson County, (!a..
within tin legal hours of sale, on the first Tues
day in Xovember next, to the highest bidder, the
following property, to-wit:
The remainder interest, subject to the life estate
of benjamin Atkins, in a tract of land in said
county. containing lour hundred acres, more or
less, known as the Elizabeth Buchanan place, on
the waters of the Pond Fork of the Oconee riv
er, adjoining lands of Jason Harrison. Jack Ad
dington and the Minor Lipscomb place. About
forty or fifty acres of said place under cultivation,
balance* old field, with the exception of twenty
acres of woods. Tolerably fair residence and out
buildings on the place. Sold as the property of
Elizabeth Buchanan, deceased, to satisfy a fi fa.
in favor of Benjamin Atkins vs. 11. C. Appleby,
Kxeculor of Elizabeth Buchanan, deceased. Prop
erty pointed out by the plaintiff and tenant in pos
session. sep2B
Also, at the same time and place, will be sold
three hundred and thirty acres of land, more or
less, on the waters of the North Oconee river, said
river running through said land, leaving twenty
acres, more or less, on the east side of sa id river,
adjoining lands of Thos. Benton, Margaret (.’anth
ers and others, the balance of said tract lying on
the south and west side of said river, adjoining:
lands of W. Potts. S. S. House. Jas. England
ami S. S. Smith's mill tract. On said land is a
good comfortable dwelling and necessary out
buildings; supposed to he some 8:) or 00 acres in
cultivation, 3U or 31 of which is bottom land ; sup
posed to lie SO or 100 acres of forest land, the re
mainder pine old lields. Levied on by virtue of a
!i fa. issued from Jackson Superior Court in favor
iii .iomi .\. .Montgomery an<j Hums .u. ;ueroney\
Kxceutors of Robert \V. Prewitt, dec'd. vs. .James
11. lbirns. Property pointed out by I). J. Clian
<ll,-r. who controls said ti fa. Notice served on -J.
11. burns. 11. (J. Pearman. John Hunt and G. \Y.
\ anzant. tenants in possession, as the law directs.
Alsi>. at the same time and olace, will be sold
thirty-nine acres of land, more or less, on the wa
ters of the North Oconee river, bounded by said
river on the west, on east by the land of .Margaret,
f'arithcis. on the south by' the mill tract of land
of S. S. Smith. There is on said land some cab
bins and a few acres of land in cultivation, the
balance in old fields and forest land. Levied on
by virtue of a ti fa. issued from Jackson Superior
('••art in favor of J. M. Potts vs. James il. Burns,
principal. A rmiuda Burns, Executrix of \Y. B.
burns, dec'd. J. M. Burns and 11. J. Long, secu
rities. Property pointed out by' I). J. Chandler,
njio controls said li fa. Notice served on J. 11.
'’urns. A. I). Stapler. Thomas Stapler and 11. C.
Pearman, tenants in possession, as the law directs.
Also, at the same time and place, will be sold
the remainder in ninety acres of land, more or less,
lying in the 24.">th (Jefferson) District, (L M., on
the road from Jefferson to Academy Bridge, ad
j lining lands known as the J. 11. Newton place
ami the Biles Mitchell place ; whereon J. M. (dar
ner now resides. Of the said ninety acres there
are about JO or 40 acres in a good state of enltiva
lioii. There is a comfortable dwelling and ordi
nary out-buildings thereon. Said land has been
Bih off to said J. M. Garner and familyas a home
'jeml, and is to be sold subject thereto—the pur
ehascr will get only the remainder, after the ter
mination of said homestead. Levied on as the
property of J. M. Garner to satisfy a Justice's
( ■ °urt ti fa. in favor of J. A. B. Mahaffcy vs. J.
-M- Burner. Property pointed out by' plaintiff,
bevy made by \V. F. Johnson, L. C.. and turned
over to me. Written notice given to J. M. Garner,
tenant in possession, as required by law.
Also, at the same time and place, will lie sold
1 "e undivided half interest in and to seventy-
s °vcn acres of land, with the improvements therc
°a. Said tract of land lies in said county of Jack
s'll. on the waters of Sandy Creek, adjoining lands
o ; Alt red Smith's estate. S. Smith and others.
‘be place known as the Moore tract of land, and
‘■onveyed in a certain indenture of mortgage, dated
•'lst December. 1577. whereon Elijah Whitehead
imw resides. The place is well improved and in
line state of cultivation. Said undivided half in
icrcst in and to said tract of land, and the im
pruvements thereon, levied on and to be sold as
| llO property of Robert M. Smith, to satisfy a
tm.rtgagc fi fa. issued from Jackson Superior
1 wirt, returnable to February Term. 187 b. m fa
■°i'ofX. B. Cash. ad mV. and M. lx. Smith, ad
ministratrix of the estate of Alfred Smith, dec'd.
a -aiist said Robert M. Smith. Property pointed
'■'b in said li fa. Notice given in writing to Elijah
bitelicad. the tenant in possession of said land,
m 1 written notice sent hv mail to Robert M.
■ s nr!h. defendant in ii fa., who resides in Madison
‘"unty, Georgia.
" JOHN S. II ENTER, Sheriff.
| j bOlttilA, JackMii Couniy.
hereax. James E. Randolph, Administrator
’’' - 1 mor Lipscomb. late of said county, deceased,
’■'presents to the Court, in his petition duly tiled.
VI:U has fully and completely administered the
l! °/ said deceased, and asks the Court to
hiin Letters of Dismission from the same —
•bis is to cite all persons concerned, kindred
j 1 ; 1 ' 1 '/'editors, to show cause, if any they can. on
• w tirs t Monday in January. 187!>. in the Court ol
;* Biliary tor said county, why Letters of Dismis
■“'i Ironi said estate should not be granted the
a Ppheant.
, 1 ''"-'n under my official signature, tliis October
* 11. ME BELL, Ord'y.
1 Jarkvaa rnmy.
Whereas. 11. M. and T. M. Wilbanks, Admin
-jrators on the estate of Abijah Wilbanks, late
I "i 1 " 1 comity, deceased, make application to me
" r halve to sell the land in said county belonging
10 Kind estate—
IN is to cite all concerned, kindred and cred
; to show cause, if any they can, at the regu
•■n term of the Court of Ordinary of said county.
°, ,e * l( dd on the first Monday in November, 1878,
' A said leave should not he granted.
yi'en under mv official signature. Sept. 24th,
1 ,s - sepgs H. W. BELL, Onl.’y.
I)RU(,RaMMES. Circulars' Ac., for schools
aiul academies, printed at this office.
the forest news.
The People their own Rulers; Advancement in Education, Science, Agriculture and Southern Manufactures.
Administrator’s Sale.
A (iREEABIA to an order of the Court of Ordi
iT nary of Jackson county, will be sold, before
the Court House door, in Jefferson, in said county,
on the first T uesday in November next, within the
legal - hours of sale, one hundred and eighty-two
acres of land, more or less, lying in said county,
on the waters of Little Sandy Creek, adjoining
lands of J. M. Pittman, J. 11. Boggs. Geo. Strick
land and others; the place whereon \V. S. Smith,
late of said county, deceased, resided at the time
of his death, and whereon the Administrator, J.
A. Smith, now resides. Said place is well im
proved ; about sixty-five acres are cleared; there
is about twenty-five acres bottom land, twenty in
original forest, balance in old fields. Sold for the
purpose of making distribution among the heirs
of said deceased. Terms, cash.
J. A. SMITH.
Sep2B Adm'r W. S. Smi th, dcc’d.
Administratrix’s Sale.
YITILL be sold, before the Court House door,
’ ▼ in the town of Jefferson, Jackson county,
Ga., on the first Tuesday in November next, with
in the legal hours of sale, the following property,
belonging to the estate of E. 11. Borders, deceased,
to-wit: A tract of land in said county, on the
waters of Turkey Creek and North Oconee river,
seven miles from Jefferson, two miles from Har
mony Grove, on Northeastern Railroad; onc
fourtli mile to a good merchant mill: containing
lour hundred acres, more or less, adjoining lands
of Dunston, .Jackson, Davis and others, it being
the plantation on which the late E. 11. Borders re
sided at the time of his death. On the place is a
good flame dwelling with 10 rooms, newly paint
ed ; good frame kitchen and smoke-house, and all
other necessary out-buildings; good well and
springs, and a splendid orchard of peaches a::d
apples on said place: also, gin house and screw,
with gin and thresher in good condition. Four
frame (lwellings for tenants on the place. 100
acres in a high state of cultivation. 10 acres in
river bottoms. 1.1 in first-class creek bottoms, 10
acres in pine field, and the remaining 181 acres in
wood land. Convenient to schools and churches.
Anyonewishingtopurcha.se, would do well to
look over the place, as it is one of the best farms
l in Northeast Georgia.
Also, at the same time and place, another tract
of land, belonging to said estate, situated in said
county, on the waters of North Oconee river, six
miles from Jefferson and two miles from Nichol
son, on Northeastern Railroad, containing 213
acres, more or less, adjoining lands of Haynie.
Potts. Birthright and others, formerly known as
the Clark Hath right place. On said place is a
good frame dwelling, good kitchen and other ne
cessary out-buildings, and good well water and
springs. 10 acres in a high state of cultivation.
21 acres in good river bottoms, 11 acres bottom
land not in cultivation, 10 acres in pine field, the
remainder in good original forest. The place is
in good repair. Any one wishing to purchase a
splendid farm, would do well to look over before
day of sale. .Sold for distribution. Terms, cash.
octl E. A. BORDERS, Adm'x.
Executor’s Sale.
VGREEABLY to an order of the Court of Ordi
nary of Jackson county, <ia., will he sold,
on the first Tuesday in November, 1878. before
th - Court Mouse door, in .Jefferson. Jackson coun
ty. to the highest bidder, during the legal hours of
sale, the following property, to-wit: One hundred
and fifty acres of land, lying in said county, on the
waters of the Walnut Fork Oconee river, adjoin
ing lands of O. S. Duke. Mrs. Long. W 11. Bridges
and Mrs. Bowles; known as the James Rodgers
home place. There is about sixty or seventy acres
of said place first-class bottom, mostly in cultiva
tion ; about thirty acres upland, well adapted to
cotton ; balance in forest and old pine field. Three
settlements of pretty good buildings on said place,
and the same is well watered. Sold as the prop
erty of James Rogers, late of said count}', deceas
ed. for the purpose of paying debts and distribu
tion. Terms—one-third cash, remainder due in
twelve months from day of sale, purchaser to give
notes, and receive titles when all the purchase
money is paid. L. J. -JOHNSON.
sep2B Executor James Rodgers, dec'd.
J ACI4SOA 4 01 IST OIOI!ll\AICY.
] Application for
HENRY I). HUMAN j probate of will,
vs. \ in solemn form,
Heirs at law of j on the Ist Mon-
MALISSA E. STEWART. | day in Novem-
J her, 1878.
It appearing that Rutha Jane Osborn, one of
the heirs at law of said Malissa K. Stewart, testa
trix in the above stated case, reside out of the
State—
It is ordered, that service, to attend the probate
of said will, in solemn form, on the first Monday
in November, 1878, in said Court of Ordinary, l)e
perfected on said Rutha Jane Osborn by publica
tion of this notice once a week for thirty days in
The Forest News, at Jefferson, Ga.
(Jiven under my official signature, this Oct. 2d,
IS7B. octl 11. AY. BELL, Ord’y.
STOP AND READ!
A LL FORMS of Kidney and Urinary diseases,
XX. Pains in the Back, Sides and Loins are posi
tively cured by
Grant’s Remedy,
Its effects are truly marvelous in Dropsy, Gravel,
Bright's disease. Seminal losses. Leucorrhoea and
lost vigor, no matter of how long standing the
case may be, positive relief is had in from one to
three days. Do not despair, hesitate, or doubt,
for it is rcaly a specific, and never fails. It is
purely a vegetable preparation. By its timely
use thousands of cases that have been considered
incurable by the most eminent physicians, have
been permanently cured.
It is also indorsed by th.e regular physicians and
Medical Societies throughout the country. Sold
in bottles at Two Dollars each, or three bottles,
which is enough to cure the most aggravated case,
sent to any address on receipt of Five Dollars.
Small trial bottles One Dollar each. All orders
to be addressed to
GRANT S REMEDY MANUFACTURING CO.,
.?.•> 1 .Haiti K(., IVorccslcr, Mass.
aug J
ATTENTION! FARMERS.
Good Fruit Trees
CHEAP!
rpo ALL who need Fruit Trees or Shrubbery of
T anv description, I will furnish them at
LOW PRICES I
and warrant them to-be as GOOD as ANY. when
properly cared for.
I am representing the popular
Richmond Nursery,
the most reliable in the South, and will be pleased
to take the orders of those needing GOOD TREES.
Respectfully.
j n lyG E. M. WHITEHEAD.
n a week in your own town. $5 Outfit
free. No risk. Reader, if you want a
business at which persons of either sex can make
m eat pay all the time they work, write for partic
ulars toll llai.lett A: Go.. Portland. Maine.
March JO, 18 78.
JEFFERSON, JACKSON COUNTY, GA., SATURDAY. NOVEMBER 2, 1878.
SELECT MISCELLANY.
WHAT HE LOST.
The evening was warm and still, and all
the doors and windows in George street were
set open, and everybody who could escape
from indoor occupation was out for a stroll
The people living here were decent, hard
working men and women, earning enough to
keep their families in comfort, and taking an
honest pride in themselves and their dwell
ings. Most of the windows could boast of
clean muslin curtains, and the door steps were
as white as hard scouring could make them.
There was one house, however, whose door
steps could ill bear a comparison with its
neighbors, and as to its curtains, they were
drab and dingy, and bad been so all the win
ter.
“ Miss Kennaway don’t regard appearances,
that’s certain,” said one matron to another,
as they took their evening walk together. If
I were her I should be sick of the sight of
those frightful drab curtains. And she with
a smart young man coming often to the
house.”
“ l’oor tiling !” sighed the other woman, a
good-natured soul, always ready to find ex
cuses for those the world was hard upon.—
•• Poor thing ! she can’t have a minute to call
her own. What with her dress-making and
her mother's long illness, she must be pretty
nearly at her wit’s end.”
“Well, if young Parr don’t mind the cur
tains or that disgraceful door-step of hers.
Pm sure I don’t,” responded the other speak
er. sliarpl}'. “And here he comes, looking
as natty as yon please, and walking as if the
very ground wasn’t good enough for his
feet.”
William Parr, the promised husband of
Fanil}' Kennaway, was one of those men who
are said to be above their station, and are
sometimes so very much above it that there
is no keeping them in it. William, however,
was industrious enough to find favor with
the merchant who employed him. Out of the
counting house he held his head high, and
looked down upon his fellow clerks, who
never ceased to wonder why such a lofty fel
low should have courted an humble little
dress-maker in George street, llut very few
men of taste would have been surprised at
Parr’s choice if they had seen Fanny Kenna
way in her seat by the window that even
ing.
After a long day’s work, she was resting
eyes and hands for a few minutes, and watch
ing for William’s coining, ller's was a deli
cate, clearly cut face, pale as lily, and seri
ous almost to sadness—a face that seemed
to have little in common with the needles and
pins and gay stuffs around her, and yet. in a
general way, Fanny worked cheerfully enough
at her trade. It was only when nursing as
well as dress-making fell to her lot, and a
heavy doctor’s bill was added to the ordinary
expenses, that her little body felt itselt wea
ry of this great world. Hut there was no
wearyness in the smile that greeted William
as he entered the humble room. Like a wise
woman as she was, Fanny always met her
lover with a bright look and a sweet, cheery
voice.
“ Come Fanny,” he said, “ won't you go
for a walk this evening ? Your mother is
better, so that you surely can be spared.”
“ Oh, yes, mother can spare me; Mrs.
Marks is sitting with her. But there is a
dress that must be finished to-night, Wil
liam.”
“ 1 wonder why we can never enjoy our
selves as other people do,” muttered Parr,
crossly. “ You are making a perfect slave of
j'ourself, Fanny’.”
“Well, then, I’ll go,” she answered after a
little pause, “and I won't be five minutes
getting ready.”
She tripped off, and soon returned, looking
so neat in her walking garb that only an ill
humored man could have found a fault in her.
But as they walked away together down the
street, there was a cloud on William’s face
and presently’ he spoke out his grievance.
“Why’ don't you get a stylish hat. Fanny,
instead of wearing that everlasting bonnet ?
I can’t think how it is your things last so
long; one never sees you in anything fresh
and new. For my sake you ought to lea
little smarter in y’our dress.”
Fanny did not tell him that every’ six
pence earned was spent on the common nec
essaries of life, and that all her savings had
gone to pay that terrible doctor’s bill, but she
looked up lovingly into his handsome, gloomy
face. William was her first love, and she
could not wish him changed, even when his
magnificent notions caused her some incon
venience. The ornament of a meek and quiet
spirit is not always duly valued, and many
people might have blamed Fanny for her
tameness. But she was one of those women
who would rather hear harsh words than speak
them.
Instead of chiding, she patiently et her
self to bring her companion into abetter
frame of mind, and she succeeded so well
that William almost forgot the old bonnet.
And yet, when lie had left her at her own door,
and was going back to his lodging, he began
to think ot it again. “It was quite humilia
|ting." he said to himself, “for a man m his
position to have been seen in the company of
such a bonnet as that.”
“ How are you, Parr ?”cried a loud voice.
“ Splendid evening, isn't it? Come home
and have supper, will you ?”
Ihe speaker was a dashing young fellow,
son of an auctioneer; who was reputed to be
making a fortune. It was the first invitation
that \\ illiam Parr had ever had from Tom
Derry.
“ Thanks,” he answered promptly, I shall
be very glad to come.” And then the two
set off together, and William was by no
means ill pleased to walk with a well-dressed
acquaintance, who nodded familiarly to one
or two men in a sphere above him.
The Derry's lived in a pleasant little villa,
with coach house, stable and green-houses.
Voices and laughter were heard in the garden
as the young men approached the gate.—
William caught sightof lightdressesfluttering
about the lawn, and remembered certain ru*
mors of the beauty of the Derry girls.
After George street, and Fanny's little
work room, it was no wonder, perhaps, that
Gloucester Lodge seemed almost an earthly
paradise. Julia Derry, the youngest and
prettiest of the sisters, was disposed to he
very gracious to William. She wore plenty
of jewelry, and her costume was made in the
latest style. After supper she sang and play
ed several fashionable songs, with William
standing beside her to turn over the music
leaves. It was very pleasant, he thought, to
see a girl with rings on her white hands, and
without, the tell-tale roughness on the left
forefinger.
It was the old. old story. After that even
ing spent at Gloucester Lodge William's vis
its to George street grew rarer and rarer, and
little Fanny drooped visibly. It is not very
hard for a woman to hear up under life’s bur
dens while she has the strong prop of a man's
love to lean upon. Hut if the prop breaks, it
is well for her if it does not crush her alto
gether. She felt that her prop was giving
way, and nerved herself to do without it.
“Fanny,” said Mrs. Kennaway, one even
ing. as the young dress-maker sat sewing in
her old window seat, “you are not looking
well my child; I wish William would come
and take you out. He hasn't been here very
often lately, has he ?”
“ No. mother ; not very often.”
'* I think you are working too hard,” contin
ued the poor woman, sighing. “ I get well
very slowly, Fanny, and the beef tea and port
wine cost a great deal. I’ve made up ray
mind, child, to write to ray brother at last.”
“ Hut, mother,you'll be dreadfully distress
ed if lie doesn’t answer. You have often
said that lie would never forgive you for mar
rying poor father.”
" I've been a widow for nearly five years.
Fanny’. Surely Stephen can bury the old
grievance in my husband's grave.” •
“You know best mother, but father always
spoke of him as a hard man.”
“ Well, at any rate, I shall make an at
tempt to soften him. Don’t try to talk me
out of it, Fanny’. I believe it is the right
thing to do.”
Fanny held her peace, but she had little
hope that her uncle Fenwick would reply’ to
his sister’s letter. She knew that he was a
rich city merchant; several y’ears older than
her mother, but she had never seen him, and
had formed her opinion of his character sole
ly on her father's dislike to him. The late
Mr. Kennaway had been one of those men
who have a natural turn for borrowing mon
ey’. and are generally severe on the friends
who refuse to lend. Perhaps Mrs. Kenna
way had taken some pains to hide the father’s
faults from the child’s eyes, for Fanny had
never discovered them.
“ Now, Fanny’,” said honest Mrs. Marks,
bouncing into the little room, “to-morrow’s
Saturday, and you are going to have a whole
holiday. Everything's planned, and so yon
may leave off shaking your head. Mary Ba
ker has promised to come and sit with your
mother. My* man and I have arranged to
take yon right off to Durrant farm, where my
sister lives.”
Mrs. Marks and her husband were a child
less couple, and, instead of wasting their af
fection on dogs and parrots, they’ looked out
for y’oung people who needed love and sym
pathy. Fanny had no idea they’ knew all
about her sorrow. She did not realize how
easy it is for shrewd eyes to read the signs of
a sick heart.
Early the next morning a hired chaise rat
tled out of George street, containing Fanny
and her two friends. Of course it could not
be quite a perfect holiday without William,
but the girl enjoyed fresli air and rest, and
was grateful for kindness. It was along drive,
and when they reached the farm house, Mrs.
Marks declared that Fanny had picked up
wonderfully’. “ A day’ or two in the coun
try," she said, “ would put a little color in
those pale cheeks, and brighten the eyes that
were dull with watching and working.” All,
poor Fanny’ !
Durrant farm stands on the outskirts of a
wood, which has always been a favorite haunt
with picnic parties: The fates had ! decreed 5
that the Denies should give a picnic that day.
It was caily in September, and townsfolks
wants to make the most of waning summer.
M iss Julia Derry wore an entirely new cos
tume, bought for the occasion, and a charm
ing rustic bat adorned with poppies and wheat
ears. It was very agreeable to he admired
even by a mere merchant's clerk, and she
lavished her sweetest smiles on William Parr.
Arm in arm the pair strolled away from
the rest of the party. lie talked nonsense,
and she laughed and listened, and led on
without a thought beyond the hour’s amuse
ment. She was wiser in the world’s ways
than foolish William, whose vanity had been
tickled until he really believed that lie had
made a conquest. He was bending down to
his companion, with flushed cheeks and spark
ling eyes, when a turn in the path suddenly
brought them face to face with Mrs. Marks
and Fanny Kennaway.
Even then things might have turned out
well, if William had only been true to him
self. Hut there was Fanny in her shabby
everyday gown and the bonnet that had gone
completely out of fashion ; and there was the
superb Julia hanging on Parr’s arm. and quiz
zing his betrothed with haughty eyes. The
worst part of the young man’s nature came
uppermost at that moment. lie gave one
quick glance at Fanny, and then swept on
without bestowing even a bow ot recognition
on the little dressmaker.
“Well.” said Mrs. Marks, drawing a long
breath, *• I only wonder the earth don’t open
and swallow him up !’’
Fanny took her lover’s desertion in a very
quiet way. She knew that the end had come,
and did not try to get comfort out of a dead
hope. When the fire has gone out, she is a
wise woman who sets herself to rake away
the ashes and clean out the grate, even when
she knows her hearthstone will be cold for
many a year afterwards. Our little dress
maker went on sewing and snipping as usual,
never saving a word about her trouble.
Meanwhile the household burdens were
lightened. Mr. Fenwick wrote a kind reply
to his sister’s letter, and enclosed a sum large
enough to supply her with all that she requir
ed. “ You can get yourself anew gown now,
Fanny,” said her mother cheerfully. “It has
made my heart ache to see you wearing that
old gray thing. I like my giil to be well
dressed.”
Brave Fanny ! If a sick heart whispered
that it did not matter what she woro now-a
days, she never heeded the voice. She chose
the material with as much care as if it had
been the stuff for her wedding dress, and set
about making it up in her best style. When
it was finished, Mrs. Marks came in and reso
lutely cleared away the signs of the work,
and then sent Fanny up stairs to put on the
new gown and go out walking in it.
It was getting late in the afternoon when
Fanny returned from her stroll. It seemed
to her, as she entered the little parlor, that it
was full of people; her mother sat by the
window, looking nervous and tearful, yet
happy withal; and by her si le was an elder
ly gentleman, talking earnestly. A little
apart from these two was a young man, sit
ting at the table and turning over the pages
of a little volume of poems which had been a
gift from William Parr to his aflianced wife.
Both gentlemen rose quickly as Fanny
came in, and the elder introduced himself at
once.
“ I am your uncle, Stephen Fenwick. Fan
ny,” lie said, taking her hands. “Give me a
kiss, my dear. You are like the daughter I
have lost. This is my son, your cousin
Walter.”
The young man came forward, and asked
if Fanny were willing to make friends with
an unknown relative. Ilis manner was na
tural, his voice very gentle, and Fanny felt
at once that he treated her with as much
deference as if she had been a princess in
stead of a poor little dressmaker. What he
thought of her she did not learn till long af
terwards ; but certain it is that the image of
a sweet, pale girl, in a brown dress, haunted
Walter Fenwick’s mind for many a daj\
“ Your uncle wants us to go and live with
him, Fanny,” said Mrs. Kennaway, tremu
lously. lie is a widower, and has onlv a
housekeeper to take care of him. Shall we
go ?”
“ Will you come and be my child, Fanny ?”
asked Mr. Fenwick. She turned and looked
steadfastly at him for a moment, with her
eyes full of tears. And then, slowly ami
gratefully, she answered yes.
Only a fortnight after Mr. Fenwick's visit,
the inhabitants of George street ran to their
doors to catch a last glimpse of the Ivenna
ways. The two women came very quietly
out of tiie little house, and entered the fly
that waited for them and their luggage. M rs.
Marks waved a tearful farewell; her husband
stood on the pavement, smiling broadly to
bide bis real feelings, and then the vehicle
rattled away, and the folks went indoors
again, saying that they supposed the rich
unde was going to make a lady of the little
Fanny.
And how was it, meantime, with William
Farr? His intimacy with those gay friends,
the Db.rrys. had come to an end with the
summer. Julia had got tired of his atten
tions, and snubbed him; her elders said to
\ TERMS, $1.50 PER ANNUM;
/ SI.OO For Six Months.
each other that 3 l ottng Parr's rrequent visits
were becoming quite a nuisance ; c\*en Tom
at last gave him a cold shoulder. They were
a heartless set, he said to himself, feeling
abominably ill used. A'nd then it suddenly
occurred to him that he was ohlv getting the
same measure that he had meted out. to
another.
“ It serves me right for treating Fanny 90
badly,” lie mused. *• She was worth a hurt*
dred Julias. And she is such a good, forgiv
ing little thing, that- 1 almost think' she would
make it up with me if I Went hack to her
again."’
It was a chilly evening irt‘ late' autumn
when William l*arr once mote took Ids way
to George street. A host of bTtl recollections
came crowding around him as'lie drew near
Fanny’s home : he began to wonder how he
could have stayed away from her so long, and
to be eager for the first glimpse of her sweet
face, lie knew just how she would look ; his
I fancy pictured the glow and brightness that
would welcome him. There was light in her
parlor—a warm, cheery beam, that told him
he should find her sitting as usual at sewing.
‘■l will not make a dozen wretched excuses,
thought the young man. “ I will ask her to
forgive me, and tell her that I’ could not livt*
without her.”
lie knocked at the doot. and stood waiting
with a throbbing heart for Fanny to open it.
A few seconds passed away, and then lie
heard the inside latch lifted* and stood faco
to face with a tall, hard featured woman in a
widow's cap.
“ Is Miss Kennaway within ?” lie faltered.
“ She does not live here !*’ responded the
woman, shortly.
“ Not live here !” said William! “ Then
where is she ? Can yon give me any informa
tion ?”
“I do not know anything about her. I
have heard that some people named Ivenna
way lived here before I came litre, but that
is all 1 can tell you.”
William turned away from the door like
one half stunned. It was all so'different from
the pleasant and pathetic little scene he had
been picturing, that he could hardly believe
in this stern reality. And then as he stilf
stood dreaming on the pavement lie bethought
him of Mrs. Marks. She had been the Kc-iv
naway's familiar friend, and would surely
know something about their change of resi
dence.
Alas! Mrs. Marks’ house was quiet and
dark. The shutters were closed : not a gleam'
of light could be seen within, and William’s
knock remained unanswered.
“That house is empty,” said a girl’s voice
at his elbow, and looking around, he saw a
decently clad lassie, with a parcel under her
arm. “The Markses are gone away to' live
somewhere in the country,” she added.
“ Can you tell me what has become of Mrs.
Kennaway and her daughter ?” W illiam ask
ed eagerly.
“They’regone to London. Some rich gen
tleman found out t hey were his near relations,
and he has taken them to live with him.”
Without another word William walked away
hardly knowing what direction he was taking.
Until that moment he had never realized how
strong was the tie that had bound him to lit
tle Fanny. lie had neglected her—trifled
with himself and his best feelings—and well
nigh broken her heart; but bad he ever really
ceased to love her ? She was gone ; she had
quietly vanished out of his way and made no'
sign.
Three years passed away. William Pan
had stepped into the place left vacant by h‘
senior clerk, his salary had been raised’, and
be bad moved to better lodgings. Perhaps if
be bad sought to renew his intimacy with the
Derrys, lie might not have been repulsed, but
lie was now a sadder and wiser man. The
sense of loss had never entirely left him ; nor
had he as yet found any one who could be
what Fanny bad been. No tidings of* her had
ever come to her old lover ; in the days of
their intercourse she had been srlent about
her uncle Fenwick, and Wi'dam had never
even heard his name.
One day it happened that William Parr was
dispatched to Ivomlon to transact some bust
ness for his employer. It. was winter, but the'
weather was clear and sunshiny, and when lie
arrived at the great metropolitan station, it
wanted an hour to noon. Among the num
ber waiting on the platform, one figure at
tracted William’s eye at once ; if was that of
a lady richly dressed in velvet and sable, who’
was evidently looking out eagerly for srtine
one in the train. As she caught a glimpse
of the face she was watching for. her own
brightened and flushed in a wav that William
well remembered. Just so bad she greeted
him when he had Been wont to pay his even
ing visits to the little house in Geot-ge street
long ago.
A quiet-looking, gentlemanlike than step
ped out. of a first-class carriage, and was
about to draw her hand through his arm. But
Wi 11 imu. yielding to a powerful impulse, ap
proached and spoke,
“ Fanny—Miss Kennaway,” lid saw! ner
vously.
She gave a very slight start. For an in
stant her color deepened ; aild then she
frankly extended her hand.
” Not Miss Kennaway now,” she answered,
smiling. “ This is my husband. Mr. Fen
wick—Mr. Parr.''
W illiam scarcely knew hrtiv he returned the
gentleman s salutation. A moment more and
Walter Fenwick and his wife had passed on,
leaving him standing on t,hc platform trying
to collect his scattered senses. Both had
seen plainly that lie was far too confused to
enter into conversation.
1 oor fellow ! said \\ alter, looking down
tenderly into his wife’s face. “ I do not won
der that he was agitated by this sudden meet
ing with bis lost love, lie is a great loser
and 1 am a great gainer, Fanny.”
NUMBER 2J.-