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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.