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OLIVIA; !
IEI DOCTORS TWO LOVSI
\
BY I HX AUTHOR OF
* 77i- h'seond .Vi h. Tillo/Kon,” “*Vci'w i
Forgotten Etc., El’'.
> ff \!'TEH 111. |t oxtim’h*
'll.. -tewardefl* bail goue away early in
tut i ij.Lt, being frightened to death, she
si.ic. t>e**k mote genial companionship
thm it,.ne So I wan alone, with the blend
uc ii Li of the early dawn.and that of the
lux: j i. limit* feebly from tli° ceiling. I
Ku; i; in betfh and cautiously unstitched
Ur ug m the breast of my jacket,
lii ii uioiiths ago. "hen l first began to
this jineigencv. and while I was
-t..l allowed the use of my money, I had
a. .and oik- by >e. u few five-pound
■,<>:. (l the Hank of England. I counted
if: u i ei. eight of them; forty pounds in
.. sole fortune, my only means of liv
ing Tine. F had besid s these a diamond
rug , . “seuted to me under circumstances
Li i made it of n > value to me except for
t - '■ < rrh in money, .and a watch and chain
rivet to me years ago by my father. A
jewel*. had told mo that the ring was w orth
poniids. and the watch and chain
fort' but how difficult and dangerous it
won i Le for uc to sell cither of them!
i rir-: ‘liy my means w re limited to the
eigi notes of five pounds each. I kept
oat. (ie for payment of my passage, then
ropli. <d the rest, and carefully pinned
thou nto the unstitched lining.
'Eh* 1 began to wonder what my desti
i utroL was. 1 knew nothing whatever of
the bunuel Islands except the names
wiiioi I had learned at school—Jersey,
< oi r.sey, Alderney, and Sark. I repeated
<,(:•!* aver and over again to myself; but
winm of them we. were bound for, ox
i! v* were about to call at each oue, I did
cot .xow, l should have been more at
! on.* hid f gone to Paris.
hr the light grow I became restless, and
at no I left my berlli and ventured to
oil the cabin steps. The fresh air
smote upon me almost painfully. There
\v;u ~o rain falling, and the wind had been
lolling since the dawn. The sea itself was
grin mg brighter, and glittered here and
thor* n spots where the sunlight fell upon
it i. the sailors looked beaten and worn
oil v dt the night h toil, and the few pas-
Hci>gi 1 who had braved th° pnssag-*, and
"or* now well enough to conic on deck,
woo v.i ary and sallow-looking. There was
std : land in sight, for the clouds hung
lev ii the hoii/.on, and overhead the sky
wio; o'?on overcast and gloomy. It was so
oil 'Lai, in spite of my warm mantle, 1
shi*.< red fiom head to foot.
B' I could not bear to go back to the
loti* !!!-smelliug cabiu, which had been
stiri q> all night. 1 stayed on deck in the
tut In; wind, hailing over the wet bulwarks
uni t a/ing across the desolate sea til my
*l its sank like lead. The reaction upoli
ti i Blent strain oil my nerves was com
ing i cl 1 had no power to resist its influ
t'cefi 1 could fee! the tears rolliug down
ry !•• ks and falling on my hands with
out • ring to wipe them away; the moie so
i- it e was no one to see them. What did
toy te* is signify to any oue? I was cold,
uo t .ngry, and miserable. How lonely I
"in how poor! with neither a home nor a
Inuiii. ui the world! a mere castaway upon
the "ves of this ttoublous life!
“ik..m7.eUe is a brave sailor.”saida voice
b til me, which I recognized as my sea
man n: (he night before, whom I had well
ing! forgotten; 'but the storm is over now,
iuu' we shall be in port only an hour ot
two rehind time.”
' '"’hat port shall we reach?” I asked, not
ranug to'tuni round lest he should see mv
wei i' is and cheeks.
IS Peter-port.” he answered. “Mam’-
*■•'*’tlieu, does not know our islands?
? 1 said. ”V* here is St. Peter-port?”
‘ it- < rtiernsey. he replied. “Is mam’.
t< .e ng to Guernsey or Jersey? Jersey
mnb it two hours sail from Guernsey. If
ym w ere going lo land at St. Peter-port f
*nifd-t ' e of some service to you.”
! turned around then and looked at him
s‘.cai. y. Hits voice was a very pleasant oue.
foil i “ (one* that went straight to my
b< art and tilled me with confidence. His
face did not give the lie to it, or cause me
hl v disappointment. He was no gentle
man that was plain; his face was bronzed
and weather-beaten, as if he had often en
c< me red rough weather, Hut his deep
set. .'<t s had a steadfast, quiet power iu
them amt his mouth, although if was al
li.oi r idden by hair, had a pleasant curve
abo . n t could not guess how o’d he
wui Le looked a middle-aged man to me.
H i; r ' at, rough hands, which had never
wort gloves, were stained and hard with
lt.Vi and he hid evidently been taking a
shun i the toil of the night, for his close
fitting woven blue jacket was wet through,
am. ‘.'l' hair was damp and rough with the
"in and rain. He raised his cap as my
eyei coked stnrght into his. ami a faint
mi in. flitted across liis grave face.
* w aut. I said sml leuly, “to find a place j
wi evt 1 caii live very cheaply. 1 have not j
n i money, and 1 must make it last a
lei., me Ido not mind liow quiet the
ii.' .or how poo:. Can you tell me of !
Mud place?”
''• < would wui a j dace tit for a lady? ' J
k a- id. with a glance at my silk dress.
”' i 1 answered en erly. "I mean such
uco \ <jc as you would live in. 1 would do
njv own work, for 1 am very poor, and I
lit . know yet how 1 cm get niv living.
. I nu s’ he very careful of niv money til! 1
ud oit w hat I can do. AVhat sort of a
place do you and your wife live in?”
-I i face was c'oiule 1 a little, 1 thought, i
sol ’ • did not answer me til! after a short
Filer.- e.
My poor Utile wife is dead.” he an- :
swc-vco and Ido uox'hve in Guernsey or
Jersey. AVe live in Sark, my mother and
1 1 aiii a fisherman, but 1 have also a lit -
tli '..rrii. for with us !h laud goes from the
f.diir to the eldest son. and l was the eld
er t: is tiii- w ■ na\e one room to spare,
wr..u might do fot mam z-lie; but the
islar.i i- far away, and very Irish. Jersey
ts guy. and so is Guernsey, but in the win
le s ;;! k j s too iuournful.”
wdl be i.st the place I want, ' I said
t; . k? : “it would suit me. exactly. Can
)< ; uie go there at once * AVill you take
c.t with yon?"
. laJi/die.” he replied, smiling, “the ]
i . c must be made ready for you. and 1
ii._M fcoeuk to.rnv inoUtet. SorV
is t r miles front Guernsey, suit to-day
the \ as-age wou’d be too rough for you. If
Go s ads ns fair weather Iwi.l come back
v l\-ter-i>ort for you in three days. My
i ami s Tardif. \on can ask the people iu
hot -port wh t sort >f a man Tardif of
tic Havre G-osselin is.
I do not want any one to tell me what
sr ’ . t u man von are. 1 said, bo'ding out
mv i; aid, red and cold with the keen air.
He • • k it int > his large, rough palm, look
h ;• i:- wn upon nu- with an air of fiiendlv
prote tiem.
• What is your i.ante, uiairt /.elle?” he iu
my name :s Olivit, ' 1 sanl: then 1
,■:i and abruptly, for there flashed across
• the ue-cssitv fore ucealing it. Turd f
and . i_ot seem to notice my embarrassment.
iicre ar ■ some Olliviers >n St. reter
pv ’ he said. “Is mam zelle of the same
far v ■ Hut no. that is not probable. ’
. .ive to relat ii I answered, “not
>. n llng'an.i 1 have vry ft-w friends,
mo. loev arc all faraway in Australia, i
v. > i-oru tlv re, and 'r ■ i there till 1 was
”i- teati spr.i g to my eyes aghin, and
■ v ,>v frieud saw them, hut sod nothing.
Hi moved ofl' at once to the far end of the
dt.r to help one ot the crew m some
y piece o? work. He did not come
tti l * j-til the ram l*ogau to return —a fine.
d!.xa. v ; M il. which came iu scuds across
tt* v -a.
Main relic he said, “yon ought to go
be: : and 1 li t-1 vou whou we are iu
6rr fG-cscr."
I went IkJow, inexpressibly more satis
fied and comforted. AA’hat it was iu this
ma;i that won mr complete, unquestioning
confidence. I did not know; but his very
presence, and the sight of his good, trust
worthy face, gave me a sense of security
such as I have never felt before or since.
Surely God had seat him to me in mj
great extremity
CHAPTER IV
A SAFI. HAVE*.
AVe were two hours after time at St.
Peter-port, and then all was hurry and
confusion, for goods sad passengers had
to be lauded and embarked for Jersey.
Tardif, who was afiaid of losing the cutter
which would convey him to Sark, had only
time to g.re me the address of a person
w ith whom I could lodge until he came to
fetch me to his island, a:.d Ihen he hastened
aw yto a different part of the quay. I was
not sorry that he should miss finding out
;hat I had no luggage of any kind with me.
I was busy enough during the next three
'lays, for I lad everything to buy. Tha
widow with whom 1 was lodging curie to
ihe conclusion that I had lost all my lug
gage, and I did not try to remove the im
pression. Through her assistance I was
able to procure all I required without ex
citing more notice and curiosity. Mv pur
chases, though they were as simple and
cheap as 1 could make them, drew largely
upon my small store of money, and as I saw
it dwindling away, whi'e 1 grudged every
shilling I was oblig“d to part vvi'h. my
spirits sank.
1 usd never as yet known the dread of
being short of money, and the new expe
rienco was. r.eihaps, the more teirible to
me. Ther; was no chance of disposing oil
(he costly dress in which I had journeyed
without arousing 100 much attention and
running too great a risk. I stayed indoors
as much as possible, and, as the weather
continued cold and gloomy, I did not meet
many persons when I ventured out into
(he narrow, foreign-looking streets of the
town.
But on (he third day, when I looked out
from my window, I saw that the sky had
cleared and the sun was shining joyously.
It was one of those lovely days which come
as a lull sometimes in the midst of the
equinoctial galc-s, as if they nre weary of
the havoc they have made, and are resting
with folded wings. For the first time I saw
the little island of Sark lying against the
eastern sky. The whole length of it was
visible from north to south, with the
waves beating against its hradlands, and a
fringe of silvery gold girdling it. The sky
was of a pale blue, as though the rains had
•vashed it as well as the earth,, and a few
A liny clouds were s'j 11 lingering about. The
>ea beneath was a deeper blue, with streaks
ilmost like a hear Host upon ii, with here
mil there tin* of green, like that of the
ky at sunse. A boat with three white
(ails, which were reflected iu the water, was
acking about to enter the h .rbor, and a
teconil, with amber sails, was a little way
>eb.ind, but following quickly in its wake.
I watched tneui for a long time. AVas
tillier of them Tardif’s boat?
The question was answered iu about twe
lours’ time by Tardit’s appearance at the
rouse. Ho lifted pi v little £>ox on tp hjs
H-oad shoulders and mar died away with it,
rying vainly to reduce his long strides into
iteps that would suit me as I w-alked beside
aim. I felt overjoyed that he was come
So long as I was at Guernsey, when every
norning I con’d see the arrival of the
jacket that had brought me. I could not
shake off the fear that it was bringing some
ne in pursuit, but in Sark that would be
ill different. Besides, I felt instinctively
that this man would protect me and take
my part to the very utmost should any
circumstances arise that compelled me te
ippeal to him and trust him with my se-
Tet. I knew nothing of him, but his face
was stamped with God’s seal of trustwor
thiness if ever a human face was.
A second man was iu the boat when we
reached it, and it looked well laden. Tar
iff made a eomfortablo seat for njo amid
(he packages, and then the sails were un
furled, anti we were off quickly out of the
harbor and on the open pen.
A low westerly wind was blowing, ano
fell upon the sai.s with a strong and equal
pressure. AVe rode before it rapidly, skim
ming over the low crested waves almosl
without a motion. Never before Lad I felt
so perfectly secure upon the waterr Now
l could breathe freely, with the seme of as
sured safety growing stronger every mo
ment as the coast of Guernsey receded on
the horizon and the rocky little island grew
nearer. As we approached it no landing
place was to be seen, uo beach or strand.
An iron-bound coast of sharp aud rugged
crags confronted us, which it seemed im
possible to scale. At last we cast anchor
at the foot of a great cliff, rising sheer out
of the sea. where a ladder hung down the
face of the rock for a few feet. A wilder
or lonelier place I hid never seen. Nobody
could imrsue and surprise me here.
The boatman who was with us climbed
up the ladder, and. kneeling down, stretched
out his hand to help me. while Tardif stood
waiting to hold me steadily on the damp
ands ippery rungs. For a moment I Hesi
tated and looked round nt the crags and the
ussiug, restless sea.
' I could carry you through the water,
mam’zelle,” said Tardif. pointing to J
hand's breadth of shingle between the
rocks, “but you will get wet. It will be
betler for you to mount up lr re.”
I fastened both of my hands tightly
round one of the upper rungs before lift
ing nty feet from the unsteady prow of the
boa'. But the ladder once climbed, the
rest of the ascent was easy. I wa’ked on
up a zig-zag path cut m the face of the
cliff, until I gained the summit, and sat
down to wait for Tardif and liis comrade.
So long as my money held out l might live
as peacefully and safely ns any fugitive had
ever lived.
For a little while I sat looking out at the
wild and beautiful scene befoie me, which
uo words can tell and no fancy picture to
thosa who have never seen it. The white
foam of the waves was so near that I could
see the rainbow to’ors playing through the
bubbles as the sun shone on them. Below
the e'ear water lay a girdle of sunken
rocks, pointed as needles, and with edges
as sharp as swords, around which the wav. >
fretted eeuselessly, drawing silvery lines
about their notched and denied ridges.
The cliffs ran up precipitously from th -
sea. caived gro'esouely over iheir whole
surface into s range and fantastic shapes,
while the golden and gray lichens em
broidered them richly, and bright se.-'-
flowers and stray tufts of grass lent them
the most vivid gorgeous hue*. Beyond tl
channel, against she clear west" 1 " Vv 1
pie mountain out of ihe opal sea. wln
Lay like a lake between us. sparkling a.
changing every minute under the light
the afternoon run.
But there was scarce'y time for the e
quisite beauty of ti.G scene to sink deeje
into my heart just then. Before ion",
heard the tramp of Tardif and h > eo?
lade following me; the r heavy (read sJ I
down ‘.lie loose stcues on the path phmgid
into the sea. They were both laden w _
jar. of the boats cargo. They stopped
rest for a minute or two at the spot vvlir
l bad >at dov. and the other I mat mail ! -
gan talking earnestly (<• Tardif in ( -
patois. of wnidi 1 did not v.nderstano
word. Tardif* face was very grave a“
sad. indescribably <o; and before he tnrUD
to me and spoke 1 knew it was some
rowful catastrophe he had to tell.
"You see how smooth it is. main zelk
re said—how calm and bountiful—do.
below us, where the waves are at play
little white children. I lots them, but tli_
are c tie! and treacherous. Avhiia I w J
away there was an accident down yond
just beyond these rocks. Our doctor a
two gentlemen and a sailor went out frt
our little bay below, tmd shortly after the
came on a thick dtrkness. with heavy ra
and they were all lost, every one of the:
Poor Renouf He v s a good friend j
mine. And our docto>-. too' If I had be
hrre maybe I might have persuaded the
not to brave-it. ”
It was a sad story to hear, yet just ther '
did not pay great attention to it I '-vast
much engrossed in my own ditfic-uUies -*u
trouble tfo far a- my experienr-e goes,
believe the heart is more open to otter
people'* sorrows when it is free from bur
dens of its own. I was glad when Tardif
took up his lead again and tprued his back
upou the sex
CHAFTEIt V.
w ir.L IT DO?
Tardif walked on before me toward a
ow thatched cottage standing at the back
:>f a email farm-yard. There was no other
dwelling in sight, and even the s:a was not
visible fiom it. It was sheltered by the
sleep slope of a hill rising behind, and
looked npon another slope coveied with
gorse-bnshes; a very deep and narrow ra
vine ran dowu from it to the hand-breadth
of shingle which I had seen from the boat.
A more solitary place I could not have
imagined: no sign of human life, or its
neighborhood, betrayed itself: overhead
was a vast dome of sky, with a few white
winged sea-gulls flitting across it and ut
tering their low. wailing cry. The ’ oaf of
sky and the two round outlines of the
little hills, and the deep, dark ravine, the
end of which was unseen, formed the
whole of the view before me.
I felt chilled a little as I followed Tardif
down into the dell. He glanced back, with
grave, searching eyes, scanning my face
carefully. I tried to smile, with a very
faint, wan smi’e, I suppose, for the light
ness had fled from my spirits, a id my heart
was heavy enough, God knows.
”AVill it not do, mam’zelle?” he asked
nxiouslv, and with his slow, solemn ut
terance; “it is not a place that will do fora
young lady like you, is it? I should have
counseled yon to go on to Jersey, where
there is more life and gayetv; it is my
home, but for you it will be nothing but a
dull prison.”
“No. no,” I answered, as the reeol ection
of the prison I bad fled from flashed across
me; “it is a very pretty place and very safe,
by-and-by I shall like it as much at you
do, Tardif.”
The house was a low, picturesque build
j ing, with thick walls of stoue and a
thatched ryof. which had two little do:met
windows in it; but at Uie most sheltered
end, farthest from the ravine that led down
to the s a, there had been built a smalt
j square room of brickwork. As we en
tered the fold-yard Tardif pointed this!
room out to me as mine. -
“I buitt it,” ne said softly, “for my poof
little wife; I brought the bricks over from
Guernsey in my own boat, and laid nearly
every one of them with my own hands; she
died in it mam’zelle. Please God, you
j will be both happy and safe there!”
AVe stepped directly from the stone
causeway of the yard into the farm-house
kitchen—the only sitting room in the houg
except my own. It was exquisitely clean
with tint spotless and scrupulous cleanli
ness which appears impossible in houses
where there are carpets and curtains and
papered walls. An old woman, very little
and beu*, and dressed iu an odd and ugly
j costume, met us at the door, dropping a
courtesy to me, and looking at me with
dim, watery eyes. I was about to speak to
i her, when Taiclif bent down his head and
put liis mouth to her ear, shouting to her
with a loud voice, but in their peculiar jar
gon, of which I could not make out a sin
gle word.
“My poor mother is very deaf,” he 6aid to
me, “very deaf; neither can she speak En-
I glish. Most of the young people in Sark
! can talk in English a little, but she is old
and too deaf to learn. She has only once
I been off! the island.’
I looked at her, wondering for a moment
what sho could have to think of; but, with
an intelligible gesture of welcome, she
beckoned me into my own room. The as
pect of it was somewhat dreary; the walls
were of bare plaster but daz.zliugly white,
with one little black silhouette of a woman’s
head hanging in a common black frame
over tin low, open hearth, on which a fire
of seaweed was smo’dering, with a quan
tity of gray ashes round the small center of
smoking embers. There was a little round
table, uncovered blit as. white as snow, and
two chairs, one of them an armchair, and
furnished with cushions. A four-post bed-
I stead, with curteins of blue and white
' check, occupied the larger portion of the
floo".
It was not a luxurious apartment, and
j for an instant I could hardly realize the
fact that it was to be my home for au in
defiuite period. Some efforts had evidently
been made to give it a look of welcome,
i home’y as it wois. A pret y china teacup
I end saucer, with a plate or two to match,
were set out on the deal table, and the
cushioned armcha r had been drawn for
ward to the hearth. I sat down in it, and
buried my face in my hands, thinking, till
Tardif knocked at my door and carried in
| my trunk.
“Will it. do, mam’zelle?" he asked; “willit
, do?”
“It will do very nicely. Tardif,”-I an
swered; “but however am I to talk to your
moth r if she does not know English?"
“Mam’zelle,” he said, as he uncorded my
I trunk, "you must order me as you would a
| sei\ ant. Through the winter I shall al
ways l*e at hand, and you will soon be used
i to us and our ways, and we shall be used to
you and your ways. I wall do my best for
you, mam’/.elle; trust me, I will study to do
my best, and make you very happy here. I
will be ready to take you away whenever
you desire to go. Look upou me as your
hired servarG.”
He waited npon me all the evening, but
with a quick attention to my wants which I
had never met with iu any hired servant.
It was not unfamiliar to me, for n my own
country J had often been served only by
m“ii. and especially during my girlhood,
when I lived far away in the country, upon
my father’s sheep-walk. I knew it was
Tardif who fried the fish which came in
with my tea; and when the night closed in
it was he who trimmed the oil-lamp and
brought, it ii, and drew the check curtains
across the low casement, as if there were
prying eyes to -ee me on the opposite bank.
Then a deep stillness crept over the soli
tary place—a stillness strangely deeper than
that even of the daytime. The wail of the
sea-gulls died away, and the few busy cries
of the farmyard ceased; the only sound
that broke the silence was a muffled, hol
*ow boom which came up the ravine from
ihe sea.
Before nine o'clock Tardif and his moth
er hid gone up staiis to their rooms in the
.hatch, and I lav. wearied but sleepless, in
The equinoctial gales came on again
fiercely the day after I had reached Sark,
and I stitched away from morning till
night, trying to fix my thoughts upon my
mechanical work. -
who meet m tneir country’s defeneif s
our citizens should turn out en mass<° u
and be in attendance upon the
cises of that occasion. This much irst
due those whose deeds we wouliM
commemorate. And we would im^ g
press upon our readers that this me <u
morial occasion and the decoration od n
the graves of the Confederate dead
our cemetery is not merely’ a town af-e.
fair, but is an occasion in which alFd
people from both town and
are expected and earnestly solicited v
to take part. The ladies of the me-?,
morial association especially insist '
-that the programme as to the order of i
marching, be strictly observed by all •
who take part in the exercises, this,
too, to prevent confusion, that every
thing may be done decently and in f
order. It is to be hoped that personal \
preference will yield and that every
body will conform to the order of the
parade, in order that the procession
will accord with the occasion.
Notice.
Two or three good broke mules to j
sell on time with good security, or
will swap for good horse or mare,
inch 23 tf. AV. C. Corley. i
its voyage out iuul iu, no letter* rouhl ar
rive for me. The season was so far ad
vanced when 1 went to Sark that those vis
ions who had been spending a portion of
the summer there had already taken their
departure, leaving the islanders to tbern
srlves. Thf*y were sufficient for them
selves; they and their o*u affairs formed
(he world. Tardif would bring home al
most daily little scraps of news about the
other families scattered about Sark, but of
the greater affairs of 1 ft !u other countries
he could tell ice nothing.
Yet why should 1 call these great affairs?
Each Uj Himself is tbs center of the world.
It wi* a more Important tjyugz to me that I
was safe than that (bs fi*doa* of Eaftasd
itself should be secure,
CHAPTER Vf. \
TOO MICH AI.ONr,
Yet looking back upou that tfaie, now it
is past, and has “rounded itself into that
perfect star 1 saw not when I dwelt there
in, ’ it would be untrue to represent my
self as in any way unhappy. At times I
wished earnestly that I had been born
among these people, and could live'forever
among them.
By degrees I discovered that Tardif led
a somewhat solitary life himself, even in
this solitary island, with its scanty popula
te n. There was au ugly church standing
iu as central and prominent a situation as
possible, but Tardif and his mother did
act frequent it. They belonged to a little
knot of dissenters, who met for worship iu
a small room, when Tardif generally took
the lead. For this reason a sort of cold
ness existed between him and the larger
portion of his fellow-islanders.
[to be coxTixrm. 1
Gunning for a B g.
A Detroiter who was skirmishing along
the Hiver Rouge the other day with a
gun met a farmer and a dog on the road
n uir the AYoodmsre cemetery, and as the
two mm stopped 1 1 speak the dog ran
down tin? highway about twenty rods,sat
up on end and began to bark.
•‘What’s the matter with your dog?’
asked the s|K>rtsman.
“Olu nothing. He’s simply getting
ready.
‘‘What for?”
“For you to shoot. Whenever any of
you folks come gunning around here I
s:d him up at twenty rods for a quarter a
shot.”
"You do. eh? Well, you can ray good
bvtohim at once, for I’ll kill him at the
.first shot. Here's your quart w.”
‘•Off-hand shot, you know? 1
“Of course.'
The spoilsman got ready, and the far
mer chewed away at at twig and gently
whirl ’d ‘•>Fo!!i • Darling.” The rifle
cnuk'id, the -moke flew away, and the
clog frisked aro tnd in high glee.
“Better try another,'’ suggested the
farmer.
‘T 11 do it! Fll try a hundred! Here’s
a dollar, and that dog lias seen the last
spring break-up!”
It was a repeating rifle the man had.
and he blazed away again and again un
til he had fired the four shots. Tne dog
cha; e l his tail around a circle, and the
farmer said:
“Mebbe it isn’t your day for shooting,
you know?”
“Mebbe it isn't, but here's another dol
lar ! ’
He cracked away another four times,
and as the last shot rang out the dog
came toward him on a trot, ears cocked
up and eyes looking around for rabbit
tracks.
“AA'ell, T guess I must be joggm’ along,”
said the farmer, “I'm very much
obleeged for—”
“Not by a blame sight!" shouted the
hunter. “Eve got left, and fii blow
every cent of it in on that pup! trend
him back !”
‘•Stranger, the limit on this game i
two and a quarter. You’ve struck hard
pun. ”
“T 11 give you fifty cents a shot.”
“Not tc-dav. Iu fact, John Henry
won’t stand over nine shots without
bolting.”
“Say a dollar a shot!” shoutrd the
hunter.
“Can't do it. I'm making eighteer
shillingsi- id day ofi’ that dog, and 1 don't
want f> play dirt on him. If you are
down this way to-morrow whistle for me
and mebbe I'll raise yer bluff. Come;
John Henry.”
“Five deodars a shot!” desperately,
shouted the- turn ter.
“Not at present. Cosm 1 out. to-mor
row. Come heeled to shoot all clay.
Good-bye, ■ stranger f* —.Detroit Free ftm
“Professional.”
The following story leaked out this
morning on :u prominent railroad mau,
who lives oiu the south sid - oi’ Bag
street.
Last evening filkiis railroad ticket agent
was standing indror.fi of the Park theatre,
looking with longing eyes at the people
who w< re going into the show.
Suddenly one of the St. James hotel
musician* passed! Mm on the steps, and
the railroad main heard the musician
say to the doorkeeper: “Profession.”
“What?” replied! tie and orkceper; “St.
James hand.” “Pas*,” replied the door
keeper.
All this the raiiroad man took in.when
suddenly- the idea struc-k him that he,
too. might gei aqiass.
Pulling down his vest and clearing his
throat the railroad naan “waltzed" up to
the doorkeeper, and putting on a ‘-Ko
lvo-like” expression, winked at the ticket
man. and, in a> most indifferent fashion,
drawled out. -“Pif ssion.” “What?’’
Th's was a stagger* a* the railroader hail
not thought of what kind of a show he
should have said, lie-belonged to. “Well
—ah—” stuttered the railroadman. “1
nu a professional lia-,” a! length lie
blurted out in desperation. ‘ Pass the
gentleman in,” yelled the doorkeeper,
and in he went.— Vaioi...
Lovc’& Young: Dream.
A student of fche university- of
met Kosciusks Murphy on the street.
“Ys>u seem to.be in a wonderful good
humor to-day. Did you get the medal
this week for goad behavior!” remarked
Kosciusko.
1 “lamina good humor. Let me tell
you something ia confidence, in strict
i confidence.”
‘•Ail right. Propel.”
‘•Miss Birdie McGinnis asked me for
my photograph day before yesterday.”
“Pshaw! That’s nothing new. She
told me about it yesterday evening. She
i has got a stupid servant girl, who can’t
, distinguish one face from another. Miss
Birdie gave your picture to the servant
girl, so that she will be sure to tell you
that her mistress is not at home when you
: eall. Miss Birdie t>!d me that was the
only way to keep you out of the house.”
Texas Siftings.
Yon Can Rely ou Mary Ann.
Pompano—‘T think we had better gel
a dinner set of 144 pieces.”
Mrs. Pompano—“ Nonsense! Too many
by far. I shall not get more than titty-six
pieces.”
Pompano- — “On second thoughts, my
I dear, you are right. Mary Ann will
j makeup the 141 pieces in less than a
> wo‘*k.”— Ccdl.
THE CHANGE O THE SEASONS. |
When ihe ban to cackle
Ami the rooster 'gius to crow,
AA'hen the duck begins to quack la
And the sun to melt the snow.
Then we know that spring's a cree-in’
Iu upoa us full of che.ms.
And lie snow begin- a wipin'
Oi itself away in tears.
AVli-u we bear the martins siugin
Anil a tirin' round the shed.
AYheu we see the pee wees wingin’
And the geese begin to wed,
Then we get the boss and wagon
And around the barn we scratch
And manure commence a draggiu'
Out upon the tater-pat?h.
AYheu the buttercups are bloomin
Audthe frog is beard io creak,
AA'hen the thunder is a boomin’
And the lightiu' bugs the oak.
Theu we know that Summer's try in’
For to hustle Spriug awav ,
And the mud begins a dryiu'
And the dust hegius to [>lay
A Irm wj see the snake a crawlin'
And the crow begin to caw.
And the cat-bird is a squallin'
Ami the magpln 'gins to jaw,
Tli 'ii we get th > s. ytba and sickln
And begin to whet and grind,
An 1 the grass commence to tickle
An l the wheat to cut and bind.
When the frost begins a nippiu'
Of the sweet pertater vine.
A', lien the rarnbo and the pippin
Through the leaves begiu to shine.
Then we know that Autumn’s prowlin'
Round the tail of Summer's blouse,
And the wind begins a howlin’
Round the gables of the h ui .e.
AYheu the hickory -nuts are droppin’
And the pawpaw’s get tin' soft,
When the buzzard’s wings are floppin"
Kor the south to sail aloft,
Then we ga’her in the pumpkin
And tli" fodder ’gin to shock,
And the corn begin a huskin’
In tli-- crib to feed the stock,
ATkea e hear the pigs a squealit.
And th? snow-birds ’gin to play,
When we se? th? rabbit stillin'
In beneath the stack of hay,
Then we know that AYinter’s squeezin’
In old Autumn's shoes to take,
And the ice begins a freeziu'
And the snow begins to flake.
AV hen me hear the trees a sighin’
And their arms are lookin' bare.
When we feel the cold a (lyin'
On the sharp and frosty air,
Then Ihe wood we 'gin a ohoppii.
A ud around the fire we meet.
Then the corn begin a poppin’
And the nuts and apples eat.
—Squire Hobbs.
i*mi anTT point.
With a shoemaker the last is the first
resort.
The Knights of Labor are aiming to
bring about days of prosperity. Boston
Courier.
A yearning for sausage will now and
then pop up in even the most poetic
breast. -Ch irago Ledger.
ft is seldom that a man is sufficiently
color-blind to be able not to tell a green
back when he secs it.— Puck.
A woman hates to pass a pretty bon
net in a store window, but she is always
willing to go buy it.— l'acijir Jester.
In Russia a man may appear as a wit
ness in a lawsuit against, his wife—if he
has the grit to and > so. C/i/mgo ledger.
If a man wants to know how insignifi
cant he is. just let him go with liis wife
to the dressmaker’s.— Newark Register.
Au actor, unlike other men, can some
Dines build up a most excellent reputa
tion out of a very bad character. Boston
't'ro h Script.
A man may refine to be a friend to a
principal in a duel because he desires to
be second to no man in the country. —
l.oicCJ Courier.
A student of human nature says auv
rliing cun be sharpened. Put a lead-pen
ei! ini woman's hand, and see.—liing
ha niton Rep util iron.
A minister may occasionally be carried
away with the inspiration of his theme,
but: he generally gets back in time to take
up t.l-collection.— Fall Hirer Adranee
A. Dakota editor advertises for ten
thousand girls, it seems to us that this
is a: large numb rof girls; but perhaps
lie intend* to keep a boarding house. —-
Purl.
There an art iu putting on gloves,
;sy :• a fish Urn paper. Come to think of
if. you have t > get your hand in, as it
were, lb putt ing >u a glove properly.—-
Boston. Courier.
Ahe- --What man you are, George;
always- making tutu of the ladies’ taper
waists. ' He -“And what should I do
witlnai t a!xi to make light of it ?”
Bosta Tea /.- ipt.
Ages will co* and go: but woman
wii’kuot ]? perfectly happy until she cau
have eye? attached to her shoulders, so
that she usay look up and criticise her
own back hair.- Judge.
Wife-—“ You ought to stop iu and see
the dm-tosg H-.-ury, and get some medi
cine for your throat.” 11 ushand —• ‘What,
when (her sure- several bottles of medi
cine yet l:a'f taken in the house. We
must be mm economical. Tift-Bits.
Aji oid-fk-hso;i'-d corner clock stood so
long in one- piece that it* wooden feet de
cayed. and it fell across the dining hall,
while a Little R e k family were at din
net-, severely injuring two grown persons
and a erdid. Wl-at time was it? The-
Mock -truck three. Hot Springs Xeir-Si
ska insri. sphinx;.
There is beauty m the soundless shower a/
saov.
There i- rhythm ' the rattle of the hail,
B it I love uiernerry spring,
\Yioa th* pretty blip* birds sin-r.
And ihe early flowers bevin to deck Ihe <ate,
AVbeu the gloomy winter's go no
Andi he robin on the lawn
Is a-singing an 1 a-wagging of his tail
— Hr sf in ('ohJriee.
“I hop *, my dear." said Mrs*. Wise,
who. very properly, dislikes owing
money. *‘that you paid Mr. Friend the
dollar he lend you i i-i week..'' “Of
course l did.” replied h r hnsJemd. “I
aiv.avs 'pay my debt- promptly, l bor
rowed *5 of him ye toiday ansi gave him.
back *!.'— lf'Jrjnrs Bazar.
An exchange says a woman may no*
lie able to sharpen a pencil or throw a
stone straight, “but she can pack more
articles in a trunk than a man can put in
a one-horse wagon.’’ No wonder. The
ladii s' trunk bu’lt fOr summer (travel
hold- more articles than a foiu-horse
wagon. Norristown I [■■raid.
“Old rhyme-" .r now manufactured
in every enterprising newspaper office
and they are verified quite as often as the
“old rhymes" rcaic a century ago. Here’s
one, for instance, that may be depended
upon; If .June, July and August no
rain there be. Avery diy summer* you’ll
surelv see." —yorristow , lfaaid
GEM DRUG STORE
Te res to nYu m tli > publi • that it * s iil keeping a nicely ass< rted st >c’.s o
Drugs, Perfumery, Patent Medicines, Soap, Hair Brasbts, Combs,
Face Powders,
and everything else u-uaHv kept in a well arranged DRl T G SIORIv /la
the mo-t complete line of
STATIONERY AND VISITING CARDS
both plain and fancy, combining the latest styles in the city.
OUR PRESCRIPTION DEPARTMENT
is a- heretofore under the charge of
MR. Gf. NT. ROCKWELL,
Which is siith’ient guarantee of ne itu?3s aud care being exercised in that Hue
Call and see them.
THURMAN Sc MURPHEY, Proprietors,
Open Sunday from 8 to 10 a. m.
WE HAVE ON HAND
For Sale, at Popular Prices, Ready to Ship!
2 New 12 II P. Return Tubular Boilers J lid H. P. Automatic Engin?.
1 “ do *• “ n— t. j p_> • a oa
1 “ 2.*> “ “ “ “ motive Bo ler.
1 “ 50 “ “ * “1 12 “ Center Crank un Eoco. Boilei
I 2.1-hnnd 15 H. P. “ “ “ 112 “ Stitionury E igine
1 “ 10 “ Upright Engiue. 120 “ “ “
1 “ 0 “ “ " 2 l “ Portable ‘ ou wbee's
l “ 4 ” “ “ I 0 “ 21 hand Portable
A I.HO —
A Fuli T.iue of Engine Trimmings, Wrought Iron Pq>e, Pipe Fittings. Brats
Valves, Lubricatois, Saws, Belting, Emery Wheels, eie., etc.
ALL KINDS CASTINGS AND MACHINERY MANUFACTURED.
And special attention paid to REPAIRS OF MACHINERY. Haueock s In
spirators and North American Injectora" are the best Boiler Feeders on the market.
We are Genera! Agents for their sale.
J. S. SCHOFIELD Sc SON, Macon, Ca.
THE FARMER’S KEY TO SUCCESS
Fanners sav it is je.sl what they have been looking for ever since the war.
THE BOSS OF ALL CRUSHERS!
By which farmers can make their own fertilizers, grind steamed hone, phosphate,
and land plaster rock, marl, co’-ton seed, dry stable manure, corn and cob for stock
ANYTHING THAT IS GRINDABLE!
li will make good corn meal when you can’t do any better. By its use the fart®*
cr will grow rich instead of poorer all the time.
SEND FOR CIRCULARS, giving full particiiiars; also state if you would Iflc#
circular* of the Deloach WATER WHEEL, Portable Mills, etc. \Ye sell PortaW*
Mil!* as low us. SSO; guaranteed to make good meal.
A. A. DeLQACH & BRO.,
fn writing mention this paper. ATLANTA, GEORGIA.
WIT Eng ines, Saw Mills, Cotton Gins, etc., at low prices, especiallly Engine®.
INSURE IN THE
EQUITABLE
Life Assurance Society
OF
NEW YORK.
The Strongest and Most Reliable- in the World I
At SETS December, fll, 1885 —5Cfi.005,387.60
INCREASE OF SURPLUS IN 1885, 3,378,622.03
INCREASE OF ASSETS IN 1885, - 8,391,461.96
This company issue? Polices npon all the various Plans with Tontines 10: 15 and 23
veafis- including the Unrestricted Tontine, upon the best terms of any first class company.
H. HORNE,
Agent at Macon, Georgia.
CHAS. J. WILLIAMSON,
f tHb Soliciting Agent, Proctor House, Forsyth, G*
Empire
Drop
Wheel
Planter.
E. M. BREWRY, Griffin, Ga.
Opposite D. W. Pattyrsou.
D. J., PROCTOR, Agt., Forsyth, Ca.
M. L. MUNGER,. -
PIANOS AND ORGANS!
Tit Oil! Bittern Pirn ail 0r Bust l it Still.
A large and complete stock of Instruments of all styles constantly on hand, et very
moderate prices for CASH OR ON LONO TIME.
It is folly to pay high prices lor Inferior Instruments v-hen you can get the VERY
BEST here for !es3 money. Catalogues, Elites and Particulars sent to any addrea*.
Correspondence solicited.
CsU j* Mason;.: Temple, 16 Mulberry street, or address
_ M. L. MUNGER, Macon, Ga,