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VOLUME VI.
TWO PORTRAITS*
Taint me n picture, Master!
And make it strict and true;
put on the cheeks no brighter red,
In the eyes no deeper blue *,
Give to her form no softer grace—
For to each rounded limb
The highest lines thine Art can trace
Are shadowless and dim.
Color to life her matchless hair—
And if thou may’st, portray
The sweetness of those scarlet lips,
The smiles that round them play;
Can'st thou produce the radiant light
That beams from out her eyes,
Or make more fair, or pure, or bright
The soul that in them lies ?
Fashion my Bride, good Painter 1
Loving and kind, and true,
Fair as a wreath of lilies,
Sweet as its perfume, too.
Paint me another picture,
As iu the years before;
Tracing with careful pencil
Herself, and nothing more;
Leave not a single shadow
Out of that snowy brow—
Every thread of silver—
Paint her as she is now.
Maybe the eye is duller
Far than it used to he;
Maybe the cheek is paler,
Maybe the smile less free;
Care has altered them, doubtless—
But oh, I tell to you,
The cloud that darkened one life
Shadowed the other, too.
Paint me my wife, 0 Master !
Now that the years have fled,
And love has blossomed out of
The dust of passions dead.
Place the pictures together,
Side by side, on tho wall,
"Which is to me tho fairest?
Give me the last of all.
BURGUNDY.
Burgundy isn't a good thing to drink:
Young man, I beseech you, consider and
think,
Or else iu your nose, and likewise in your
toes,
You’ll discover the color of Burgundy rose:
Burgundy rose, Burgundy rose.
A dangerous sympton is Burgundy rose.
Tis a very nice wine, and as mellow as milk;
Tia a verj nice color iu satin or silk;
But you’ll change your opinion as soon as it
shows
Iu ft halo around the extreme of your nose:
Burgundy rose, Burgundy rose,
Tis a very bad thing at the tip of your toes.
MISCELLANY.
TEE BANKER’S SUICIDE;
OR,
111 tlie Shadow of the Noose.
BY T. C. HABBAUGH.
Liberty was not a large town, but
it was large enough to own a banking
house which dia a thriving business.
The President of the institution,who
also filled the position of cashier, was
Jasper Trentham, a white-haired old
man, who was well up in the seventies,
hut still possessed of much physical
and mental strength.
His family consisted of a rather
beautiful daughter named Amy. She
did the honors of the banker’s house.
Those who pretended to be well in
iormed said that a good deal of love
"’as being wasted between Amy and
Young Mr. Walters, the corporation's
teller.
At the same time others declared
that the teller had beeu supplanted iu
the girl's graces by Jerome MeDouald,
a dark faced ex-army officer who had
lately taken up his residence in the
place. This latter personage had
solved with some distinction in the
lte civil war between the States, and
as reported to be worth considerable.
He seemed to woo Amy Trentham
1 ddly and in the face of the gossips,
Ul d there were not a few who openly
s ,1 d that she had best capture the
‘hi.jor while the opportunity remained.
hut Amy appeared to know what
"'us best, lor she suddenly broke olf
@b t Eastman fprnM
with McDonald, and, much to his
chagrin, smiled upon the teller.
About this time anew patent chro
nometer lock was attached to the safe
in the vault of the and was
proving a nine-days' wonder in Liber
ty. Such precaution had been deemed
necessary by the robbery of banks in
neighboring towns, and as -that of
Liberty contained a great deal of
money many depositors did not feel
safe.
Lut the new lock brought security
to their thoughts, and all fears of bank
breakers were abolished.
It was quite late one cold night,
when Vmy Trentham had occasion to
enter her father's sleeping room. She
entered on tip-toe, believing that he
slept, and proceeded to complete her
errand.
But all at once she stopped and the
next moment a wild and despairing
shriek welled from her throat. A hois
rid sight had encountered her gaze.
In.the strip of moonlight on the
floor near the desk lay the body of
a man, and the ghastly face visible in
the light instantly proclaimed his
identity.
The girl swooned upon the inani
mate form, and the frightened ser
vants who had heard her cry, louiid
her senseless there.
The banker was dead and the knite
wound in the breast told the story of
assassination.
Liberty was startled to its utmost
suburb by the fearful crime, and des*
pite the howfling winds of winter and
the cold snow drifts, an excited crowd
assembled before the bouse eager to
catch every report.
Amy was unable to give any infor
mation concerning the death of her
father that night owing to her critical
nervousness, but on the following
morning she made a statement, which,
coupled with the reports already in
circulation, caused the arrest of the
teller. The young man was charged
with taking the life of the bank Presi
dent.
There seemed to be evidence against
him sufficient to warrant his arrest,
and it amounted to this:
For several months prior to the
murder, the banker and his teller had
had not been sociable, and a report
was current that the removal of the
latter w T as not among the improbable
things. The teller had been the last
man seen with Jasper Trentham, and
Amy said that he had accompanied
her father to his bedroom a few hours
prior to her discovery of his dead
body, and she fuithermore said that
the teller had left the house alone,
while her parent had remained in the
chamber. Added to this was the tes
timony of no less a person than Major
McDonald, who deposed to having
seen the teller emerge from the Presi
dent’s residence in an excited manner,
and that he had heard him say: ‘lt is
all over, we have settled accounts at
last.'
The toils were tightly drawn around
the young man, and he found public
sentiment decidedly against him. It
was with great difficulty that the mub
spirit was kept in abeyance at his pre
liminary ex unination, and an excited
crowd followed him to the very doors
of the jail.
By the accused the murder was
strenuously denied. He said that on
the fatal night he had been summoned
to the President's house by that per
son himself and that an adjustment
of their difficulties had there taken
place. He denied that he quitted the
house in an excited manner, and said
that if the words quoted by his rival
McDonald had fallen from h*s lips
they referred to the happy reconcilia
tion between the banker and himself.
The majority of the people of Liber
ty, in the moment of excitement, were
inclined to receive the teller’s state
ment with many grains of allowance.
They saw him a suitor for Amy Tren
tham's hand, and were ready to be
lieve that he had swept an opposing
parent from his path.
Amy returned from the examination
in no enviable state of mind.
She found herself parentless iu the
EASTMAN, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, MARCH U, ISTS.
midst of a cold world, and with the
one to whom she had given her heart’s
fresh love in the shadow of the hang
man’s noose.
For in the moment of his peril her
whole soul went out to him, and she
believed that his hand had not stricks
en her father.
Sucli was Amy Trentham’s love.
‘lf he did not kill father, who did ? ’
she asked herself again and again;
but no satisfactory reply rewarded
her, and the mystery grew deeper
than the sea.
The sun was setting when Amy en
tered the little room from whence the
old man's spirit haa taken flight.
She had not visited it since the hour
of her horrible discovery of the night
before, and it had remained in appar
ently the same condition.
There were dark stains on the floor,
the sight of which chilled her blood,
and she turned uO other and more in
viting objects.
All at once she noticed that the icy
wind penetrated the room through a
broken pane. It seemed to shiver
her very heart.
A piece of paper which she picked
from the floor and laid upon the desk
was instantly blown to one corner of
the room.
It was too chilly for her, frail girl
as she was, and she was about to quit
the uninviting spot when her eye
chanced to light upon some lines of
her father's bold chirography on the
paper aforementioned.
The next moment she held it m her
hand and read:
God forgive me for the deed I am about to
do! Tired of life, and with troubles which I
dare not con tide to any one environing me, I
die by my own hand. Certain papers in the
bank safe will tell the story; but not until the
chronometer is willing can the doors be open
ed. Heaven pity and bless my r child, Amy !
Jacob Trentham.
The girl read the sentences with
feelings that cannot be described.
Her father a suicide? The thought
was repulsive, but the truth seemed
burned upon the paper before her, and
she resolved to turn it to account.
It would save the life of Orrin Wal
ters, the accused teller, and place him
spotless before society again.
She lost no time in exhibiting to a
few the paper which the wind had
blown from the desk; but they shook
their heads, and at last pronounced it
a forgery.
It seemed but to intensify the pop
ulace against the teller.
Led by Major McDonald, who fed
the passions of heedless men by well
coined words and covertly-directed
speeches, the paper was culled ‘darns
ning evidence' against the prisoner,
and the night promised to witness the
vengeance of mob rule.
At her earnest solicitation the cash
ier accompanied Amy Trentham to
the bauk and tried the doors of the
safe.
They were as immovable as moun
tains of adamant and he told the girl
that many hours might elapse before
they would yield.
'Did father close them? ’ she asked.
‘Yes.'
‘When, please?'
‘Yesterday at three o'clock, but as
they are not open yet, there is indeed
no telling when the mechanism will
run down.'
Amy's gaze fell.
‘Are you going now?’
‘Yes, Miss.'
‘Please let me remain,' she said be
seechingly. ‘The doors are liable to
open at any moment and every minute
is precious to the life one man has in
jeopardy.'
John Meredith looked at her aston
ished.
‘You believe, then, that he is inno
cent?’ he said.
‘I do.'
‘And that the papers spoken of in
the document which some declare a
forgery are in the safe?'
‘Yes.'
'And so do I !’
Amy Trentham started forward at
the sound of the permanent cashier's
words.
‘God will bless you for those words,'
she cried, grasping his hands. ‘They
bring balm to my crushed and bleed
ing heart. You will let me remain?'
‘Yes, and may the doors yield to
your hands before the passions of bad
men do that deed which I believe
God never pardons.’
Amy’s face grew pale.
'Will they attempt to take him
from the jail ?' she asked, almost
breathless.
‘I feel that such an event is coming,’
was the reply. ‘Nothing save the pa
pers, if they exist, can prevent it. I
never will believe him guilty of this
heinous crime. He cannot commit
murder. The jealousy of one man is
at the bottom of this mob freuzy.'
‘I know it.’
‘Pardon me, Miss Amy,' the cashier
said, stammeringly. ‘I have spoken
f
‘No apologies, Mr. Meredith,’ was
the quick reply. ‘I know that jealousy
is making a hell in Liberty at this
moment. I never loved that man.’
'Never? Thank God!’ ejaculated
the cashier. ‘His heart is as black as
night, and one who loves him loves a
person whose shadow is death.'
When the cashier withdrew, Amy
found herself alone in the bank.
She had locked the door behind the
cashier, the only friend seemed left to
her by the world, and returned to the
vault.
Her fingers hastened to try the safe,
but it yielded not, and while she sank
back with a sigh darkness came upon
the town.
The jail stood almost directly oppo
site the bank, and its hard stone walls
looked like the closed portals of doom
to the girl. Ever and anon Amy
tried the safe, each time with hope in
her heart, but it sunk after the effort.
Suddenly a sound caused the girl
to start.
Loud cries reverberated through
the street. They grew terribly dis
tinct, and at last left no doubt as to
their import.
Tne mob were about to assault the
jail.
Amy listened, tugged at the iron
doors, then desisted, with a groan, to
listen again.
All at once the door of the bank
was unlocked from without and a man
sprung to Amy’s side.
‘Open yet?'
'No.’
‘My God! The mob is at the jaill
It is armed with sledges and picks.
The sheriff has fled with the keys. I
told him to go. The fiends will soon
batter at the doors.'
Before Amy could reply sharp, sten
torian blows fell upon their ears.
‘Listen!' said the cashier, pale as
death. 'They are at work. Holy
Heaven! why do’n't the mechanism
save him.’
With his last words Meredith flew
at the safe like a tiger, but the doors
refused to yield.
‘God help him!' he ejuaculated.
'Watch it all the time, girl; I will re*
port soon.'
He was gone and for the second
time the girl was alone in the bank.
Louder and louder grew the blows
of the sledges on the jail doors.
They could not resist long, for, as
they were the outer ones, they were
not very strong.
Hark! the strange noise and the
wild cry that followed, told Amy that
the door had yielded. She sprung to
her feet, but the night prevented her
from seeing across the street.
But she pictured the mob swarming
into the jail, eager to tear Orrin Wal
ters from his cell and perpetrate that
crime which the cashier had declared
unpardonable.
Then back to the safe again.
It still defied her hopes, and met
her with new fears.
John Meredith suddenly reappear
ed.
‘Amyl open yet?' he cried.
‘No, sir. If it was I would not be
here ’
The cashier sank back gasping.
‘They are hammering on the grated
door. A few more blows and they
will be at his cell.'
‘No, no; don't say that, Mr. Mere*
ditli!' cried the despairing girl. 'Can't
you do anything?'
‘No! They wouldn't listen to the
voice of God. The safe must open in
five miuntes or he is gone.'
The cashier sprung to the safe
again, and the next moment a cry of
exultation broke from him.
The doors opened!
Amy leaped to his tide.
‘Let me at the papers. I know the
corners of the safe as I know my
Shakespeare!’ cried Cashier Meredith,
pushing her back.
Amy stood behind him breathless,
but smiling.
Here they are!’ said the cashier,
risiug, and the papers which he held
in his hand were suddenly snatched
away.
'i’ll save him!' cried the girl; and
before the man could restrain her she
was bounding toward the door.
Across the street she flew, the pa
pers in one hand, and something that
glittered in the starlight in the other.
‘Make way!' she cried, as she struck
the steps that led to the battered por
tals. ‘I can prove him innocent, and
no one must refuse me an audience!’
She was recognized at once, and
suddenly grew still.
‘Let the girl have a chancel' shout*
ed a doz m voices, as the members of
the mob fell back and permitted Amy
to pass to the front.
‘Go on, 'tis but a trick to gain
time!'said a voice; and the banker's
daughter turned upon the speaker.
‘Liar!' she cried. 'You will swal
low your cowardly words when my
dead father speaks for the man in yon
der cell.
Orrin AValters heard the voice and
started.
He had listened to the blows and
curses of the mob unmoved, but the
voice of the woman he loved made
h m spring to the door of his cell.
With hammers lowered, the rings
leaders of the mob formed a circle
around the brave girl, and the tallow
dips furnished the weird light for the
tableau.
‘The safe is open,' Amy said to the
mob.
‘These are the papers referred to in
the document found in my father's
room. They are not forgeries. Cash
ier Meredith took them from the safe
with his own hands. As yet I know
not what they contain, but you shall
know.’
•
lhat fair girl seemed to exert a
powerful influence over the maddened
men.
They listened to the reading of the
first paper, and then slunk from the
jail, convinced that Jasper Trentham,
the bank President, was a suicide.
It was an hour of thanksgiving for
the lovers and the cashier.
The sledges returned to the anvils,
the mob dispersed, and Amy thanked
God that the man whom she loved
was not a murderer.
Major McDonald quietly left Liber*
ty, undoubtedly for its good.
This from ‘Taunton, good lord,
where they shoot shad with a rail P
‘When I was a boy of eight j’ears I
attended the grammar school in S ,
and fell desperately in love with a lit
tle black-eyed, red-cheeked damsel of
nine. The course of true love did not
run smooth. I was jealous of a big
squintseyed fellow with whom she
would always slide down hill, while I
went alone. At last, in my freDzy, I
wrote a startling letter to the little
flirt, declaring my passion, and asking
her which she intended to marry.
The answer soon came, saying that
6he loved me the best, but the other
fellow gave her the most candy 1 I
gave up the contest.’
An old-fashioned minister was
preaching in a tight, unventilated
church, in which, by some means, a
window was left partly open. A good
deacon, during the sermon, closed it.
The minister stopped short, and turn
ing to the deacon said in solemn
tones, ‘lf I was preaching in a jug, 1
believe you would put the cork in.' 1
.j.ioTrrj 7*
No shooten aloud hero, is the warn
ing which confronts the sportsman at
the gate of a suburban park.
It is a rig-lit for young people to use
a license to get married, but they
shouldn’t use too much license after
wards.
Sentimental youth—‘My dear girl,
will you share my lot for lifel*
Practical gal—'How many acres is
your lot ?'
Father—‘Why don't you say yer
grace ; Charley V
Charley—Why, 'cos I don’t like the
looks o' them there taters.
Horne Tooke being asked by George
111 whether he played at cards, re
pliedj No, your Majesty; the fact is, I
can not tell a king from a knavo.
4 i ■■■
A gentleman lately from the West
says, How happy a man must feel who
has a wagon to draw his salary home
from market on a Saturday afternoon.
■—
‘Mack!' said a bricklayer to his
'if you meet Patrick, tel! him
to make haste, as we are waiting for
him. ‘Shure an I will replied Mack ;
but what will I tell him if I don't meet
him V
A prominent public office in Nash
ville has this notice posted up: Don't
open this door; under which some
wag wrote the query, Why? and an
other responded, Because you can't;
it’s locked.
Mr. Smith, who has to lug a scuttle
of coal up-stairs three times a
reads with prospective joy the an
nouncement that the qoal-fiolds of the
world will be exhausted iu two thous
and years.
While growling at her husband last
summer, a New York woman was
struck by lightning and instantly kill
ed. If you wish your wife to see this
paragraph, cut it out and paste it on
the looking-glass.
A Californian tied oue end of a rope
around his waist, and lassoed a cow
with the other. lie thought he had
the cow, but at the end of the first
half mile he began to suspect that tho
cow had him.
A place for everything, and every**
thing in its place, as the old woman
said when she stowed the broom, bel
lows, balls of yarn, two babies, curry
comb, three cats and a gridiron, into
an old oven.
Two Irishmen were working io a
quarry when one of them fell into a
deep quarry hole. The other alarmed
came to the margin of the hole and
cried out 'Arrah Pat are ye kilt intire
ly ? If ye sphake. Pat an**
swered from the bottom, 'No, Tim,
not dead, but I’m spachless.
Many years ago a young man, a
native of North Carolina, was travel
ing on foot to Tennessee to seek his
fortune, and on his way was overtaken
by a distinguished citizen riding in his
carriage. The young man, weary of
walking, asked and obtained permis
sion to get up behind. The owner
and occupant of the carriage was
Gen. Andrew Jackson; the young
man hanging on behind was Audrew
Johnson.
Captain, said a fashionable lady to
an old-fashioned naval officer, who
stood up to go through a country
dance with her without gloves, per
haps you are not aware that you have
no gloves on. Oh, never mind ; ma'am,
answered the Captain; never mind.
I can wash my hands when we’ve
done.
NO. 11.