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m HE / H W M wu IPs j \h ’s bL ME J |B m ’ 8 fil £ sg§ /tan ffiw yv& / ®i 9|
kT T O kVe t At LA W-,
. Will pHfettee. ii m 'PMwrtlw ? H.ous
ton, Dooly, Pulaski, Macon, burotfr and
Word.. Also in (he Supreme Court of
Geaigia. sail in the United Suites ci*t:Uit
amt District Oovir;S within the State. All
busfneijs entrusted to hss bare will receive
prompt intention.
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
The Criminal Practice, a specialty.
January 4, 1877. jan4 ly
ATTORNEY ATLA W, j
VIENNA, GEORGIA.
nov!s tf
C. C. SMITH,
Attorney anti Counsellor at Caw,
And Solicitor in Eqdity,
•MoVILLE, --- - GEORGIA
Refers to Hon. Clifford Anderson, Capt.
■John C. Rutherford and Walter B. Hill,
Esq, Protessors of Law, Mercer Universi
ty Law School, Macon, Ga.
Pronmt attention given to all business
'entrusted to my care. mar 22 6m
A-H. WOOTTEN,
-Attorney and Counceller at Law,
Mount Vernon, Ga.
Will practice in the Middle and Oconee
'Circuits. Criminal defence a specialty.
Prompt attention given to the collection
•of claims. sept 27 tf
ELIAS HERRMAN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
EASTMAN, GA.
Practices in the counties adjacent to the
M. &B.R. R. Collections made a spe
cialty 06,25 tf
W. W. HUMPHREYS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
EASTMAN, GA.
Will practice in the Superior Courts of
’Dodge and adjoining counties, and will
bay and sell Real Estate, pay taxes for
bon-residents, make collections, etc.
0c)25 tf
P. J. HODGE,
•Attorney and Counsellor at haw,
Hawklns'nille, Ga.
’Will ptactice in the Superior Courts of
Houston, Dooly, Pulaski, Twiggs, Dodge
Wnd Wilcox. Special attention given to
Collections. oct4 ly
ROLLIN A. STANLEY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Dublin, Georgia.
Will practice in all the counties of the
Oconee Circuit. From long experience
in the Criminal Practice, much of his
Vime will be specially devoted to that
branch of his profession. feb24 tf
JACOB WATSON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Hawkinsfille, Georgia.
Will practice in the counties of Pulaski,
Dooly, Wilcok. Dodge,Telfair, Irwin, and
Houston. Prompt attention given to all
business placed in my hands. AptS tf*
LUTHER A. HALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGENT,
Eastman, "Ga.
■Will practice in all counties adjacent
o the M. & B. railroad, the Supreme
Court of the State ami the Federal Court
of the Southern District of Georgia. For
parties desiring, will buy, sell or lease any
real estate, or pay the taxes upon the
same in the counties of Dodge, Laurens,
Wilcox, Teirair and Appling. Office in
the l ourt House. npr!s tf
J. H. WOODWARD,
attorney at law,
Vienna, Ga.
WJ ILL practice in the Superior Courts
YV in the counties of l 'ooly, Worth.
Wilcox, Pulus-i ami Houston, and by
fepeciul contract in otlier courts. Prompt
attention given to all collections.
lMJlrt tt
l C. RYAN. B. MITCHELL.
RYAN & MITCHELL,
attorneys at law
AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Hftwkinsville, Ga.
W] ILL practice in the counties com
VV prising the Oconee Circuit, and in
the Circuit and District Courts of ths
tinited States for the Southern District of
Oeorfta, febHtf
J. M. DENTON,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
I PRACTICES in the Brunswick Circuit
I and elsewhere by special contract.
Office at residence, Coffee county, Oa. P.
O. address, Hazlekurst, M. & B. R^Rj
W. IRA BROWN,
ATTORNEY at law,
Vienna, Ga.
u PRACTICES in the. Superior Courts of
1 Ocanee Circuit, and elsewhere in the
Stale by special contract. Collections
g X business promptly
ATTORNEY AT LAW
AND REAL ESTATE AGEN*S,
Hawkinaville, On,
I > R ACTICES in the Courts of Pulaski,
LiyauM; J - as.
CHARLES 0. KIBBEE.
llawKinsvme, vs.
fur the Southern Distr.ct of Geofga, and
ft the Superior Courtsof Honst/m, liooly,
wdge counties.
JOHN F. LEWIS. D. B. LEONARD
| Buy and sell Exchange, Bonds, Stocks,
[ Goid and Silver, and sttenu promptly to
Witt also make loaus on good secu: ities.
.. prs ly
■ - - ” ... —-
Drs. Walker & Jordan,
Having associated themselves in the prac
tice of medicine, would respectfully offer
their professional services to the citizens
of Cochran and vicinity. Office on Second
Street, next door to postoffice. At night
Dr. Jordan can be found n> bis room in
the rear of his office. mar 22 ty
L M. WARFIELD
COTTON
Commission Merchant,
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
COMMISSION, 60 CENTS PEfc BALE.
Cash Advances made on Consignments,
at best Bank Rates.
instructions carefully followed, and sat
isfaction guaranteed.
£3P~Offlce opposite Cotton Exchange.
aupßo-0m
L. J. GUILMARTIN. | J. E. GAUDUY,
Late cashier South
ern Bank State of
Georgia.
L. J. GUILMARTIN & CO.,
COTTON FACTORS
—AND—
Commission Merchants,
SfcUy’S Block, Bay Street,
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
Bagging an.l Iron Ties for sale at low
est market rales. Prompt attention given
t.i ail business entrusted to us. Liberal
cash advances made on consignments.
junel4-6m
JOHN FLANNERY, JOHN L. JOnNSON.
Managing partner late
firm L J Guilmartin
& Cos., 1865 to
JOHN FLANNERY & CO.,
(COTTON FACTORS
AND
Commission Merchants,
No. 3, Kelly’s Block, Bay Stieet,
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
Agents for Jewell’s Mills Yarns and
Domestics, etc., etc.
Bagging anti Iron Ties for sale at low
est market rates. Prompt attention giv
en to all business entrusted to us, Lib
eral cash advances lilade en consign
ments.
Our Mr. Flannery having purchased
ti e entire assets and assumed the liubili
(ies ot tile late firm of L. J. Guilmartin
& Cos., we will attend to all outstanding
business of that firm. junel4-6m
1871 1877.
FALL AND WINTER
Millinery Goods (
I have received from New York and
Baltimore my stock of Millinery Goods
'or the Fall and Winter trade, embracing
the latest styles of Ladies’ Hats, Ribbons,
Flowers, and all goods that Hiay be de
sired in the millinery line.
The ladies are respectfully invited to
call and examine my stock. 1 am pre
pared to show .ny customers some neiv
and attractive styles, and I am sure as
cheap as. they could expect.
Dresses made in the latest styles, and
satisfaction guaranteed in prices.
Mltf. N. WESTCOTT.
Hawkinsville, Ga, Sept. 11, 1877.
septlß 3m
JULIUS
HW
s®ll PVC&HWW
—OFFICE OF
W. I). KING,
Jeweler and Watchmaker,
BAWKimVILLF., GA.
Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Gims, Pis
tols, etc., repaired at short notice and up;
on the most reasonable terms. Al! work
guaranteed. octi If
You Must Settle.
Being in need of money, all persons lii
debted to roe (of goods, attorney’s lee*, of
cash advance'.*,. #|ll please cal! aud settle
an save utter .‘WOODWARD
Vienna, 6s, Nov. 2*. 1877. nov29 U'
s± _ _
Sash, Boot a, Blinds, Head Lights,
lfawS?iHc H ‘ Glared 0 ' Windows,’
from one doliat upward. sept3o-tf
I \\ | _ _.. -
oiifdf m dollars. Six months
fot one dollar
A deduction ttf 29 cents will be
allowed each subscriber in a club of
six, and in a cllib of ten an extra
copy of tbe paper will be sent gratia
No Cbedit subscribers taken; Tile
Dispatch has the largest bona fide
circulation of any weekiy papet in
the State.
Geo. P. Woods,
tf Editor and Proprietor.
Shernmn’s Raid in Georgia.
UNCLE REMUS AS A REBEL-THE
STORY AS TOLD BY HIMSELF.
For several months old Uncle Re
mus has been in the country raising,
as lie modestly expresses it a “Uair’-
ful o’ con’n an a piller case full o’
cotton.” He was in town yesterday
with some chickens to sell, and after
disposing of his poultry called around
to see us.
“Howdy, Uncle Remus ”
“Po’ly boss, po’ly. Dese here sud
den coolness in de wedder makes de
ole nigger feel like dere’s sump’n out
er gear in his tones. Hit sorter
wakes up de roomatiz.”
“How are crops, Uncle Remus?”
“Oh craps is middlin’. Ole Master
’mombered de ole nigget w’en he wuz
’stributiu’ de wedder. I ain’t com
plainin’, boss. But I’m done wid
farriiin’ after dis, lis fer a fac*. De
niggers don’t gimme no peace. I
can’t res’ fer um. Dey steal my
shotes, an’ dey steal my chickens.
No lungerin las’ week I wuz bleedzd
to fling a lian’full uv squill shot inter
a nigger what wuz runnin’ off wid fo’
pu.lets an’ a rooster. I’m a gwine
ter drap farthin’ sho. I’m gwine
down inter ole Putuion county an’
live alonger Mars. Jeems.”
“Somebody was telling me the oth
er day, Uncle Remus, that you saved
your young master’s life during the
war. How Was that ?”
“Well, I duhno, boss, with a grin
that showed that he aas both pleased
and embarrassed,“l dunno boss. Mars
Jeems an’ Miss Emily; de.v say I
did.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You ain’t got no time fer to set
dar an’ hety de o'e nigger run on wid
’is mouf, is you ?"
“Oh, plenty of time.”
Boss, is you ever bin down to Put
mon county ?”
•‘Often.’’
“Den you know whar de Brad
Slaughter place is ?”
“Perfectly well."
“An' Harmony?”
“Yes.”
“Well, hit wuz right long in dere
whar Mars Jeems lived. W’en de
war came ’long, he wuz livin’ dere
wid ole Miss anil Miss Sally. Ole
Miss was his ma, au’ MiSs Sally wuz
his sister. Mars> jeems was just
eatchin’ fer ter go off an’ fight, but
ole Miss and Miss Sally, dey took
on so dot he couldu’t git off de fus’
year. Bimeby times ’gun to git put
ty hot, an’ Mars Jeems be got up an’
sed he had to go, an’ go he did. He
got a overseer to look arter de place,
an’ he went an’ jined de army. An’
bo was a fighter, too, Mars. Jeems
wuz ohe er de wuz kine. Ole Miss
useter call me to de big house on
Sundays, and read what the papers
say ’bout Mars Jeems.”
“Remus,” sez she, ‘here’s w’at the
papers say ’bout my baby,’ an’ den
she’d go on an’ read ontwell she
couldn’t read for cryin’.
“Hit went on dis way year in an’
year out, an’ dey wuz mighty lone
some times, boss, sho’s yon bo'n. De
conscription man come’long one day,
an’ he eVeflastlin'ly scooped up dat
overseer, an’ den ole Miss, she sont
srter me an’ she say:
‘Remus, I ain’t got nobody fer ter
look after de place but you an’ I
say Mistis, you kin jes’ pen’ on de
ole nigger, —(I wuz ole deo, boss, let
alone what I is now) —an’ you better
believe I bossed dem ban’s. I bad
dem niggers up fo’ day; and de way
dey did wuk wuz a caution. Dey
had plenty bread an’ meat, an’ good
cloze ter w’ar, an’ dey Witz de fattes’
niggers in de whole settlement.
“Bimeby, one day Ole Miss she call
me up an’ tole me flat da yankees
done gdne an’ took Atlanty, and den
presemly I hear dat dey wuz triarch
in’ down to’ds Putmon; an’ de fus’
thing I knows, Mars Jeems he rid up
one day wid a whole company uv
men. Hfe jes’ stop longer nuff ter
change hdsses an’ snatch up a rnouf
’ull uv Bnrilp’n t’eat. Ole Miss tole
’tm dat I wuz kinder bossin’ roun’,
an’ he call rile up an’ say t
“Daddy,—all ole MisS*s Chlllun
call me daddy—‘Daddy,’ he say,
“pears like dere’s goin’ ter be mighty
rough times roun’ here. Do yankees
is done doWti ter Madison, an’ 'fcwoht
be many days hefo’ dey’ll be all thru
here. Hit aiiA likely dat dey’ll bod
der mother ereis; but, daddy; ef de
wus comes tef de was, I spec’ yod to
take keer un ’em.’
“Den, l say, 'Yon bin know in* me
* “ "ieTeVtfuJ rba’byfd*addyTei
be- ’
‘“Well, den, Mars Jeems,’ s*2 J,
i * * __ „_ _ fill* fup ,J.
X4U an’ Miofl
loofc arter oie flaws au miss
ah’jump on de fifty I* bin savin’ fef
dere wuz gwinetef be sho’ nuff
trouble,, an’ so I begrin fer ter put de
house in order, as <fe seriptef sez. I
got all de cattle an’ de bosses toged-‘
der, an’ I driv’em over to de fo’ mite
place. I made a pen in de swamp
! "ffiVT U q CO ”, f , W ., e , an
by de time de yttnkees hed arrove, I
m^ax 6 Tween'my C * r °° m
, “Dem.yankees, dey jes’ ransacked
de whelb place, but dey didn’t come
in de house, au’ ole Miss, she sed she
hoped dey wouldn’t, w’en jes’ den we
hear steps on de po’ch, an’ lienreorae
two young fellers wid strops pn dere
shoulders an’ s’ords draggin’ on de
flo' an’ dere spurs rattlin’; I won’t
say I was skeered, boss, ‘cause I
wuzent. but I had a mighty funny
reelin' in de neighborhood- uv dc giz
zard.”
“Hello, ole man!” sez one. ‘W’at
you doin’ in here ?” Ole Miss didn’t
turn her head, an’ Miss Sally look
straight at the tier.
“ ‘ Well, boss,” sez I, ‘I bin cut
ti.i’ some wi.od foi ole Miss, and I
jes’ stop fer ter worn my hart’s a lit
tle.’
“Hit is cole, dat’s a fitc,’ sez he.
Den 1 got up an’ went an’ stood be
hine oie Miss and Miss Sully, a loan
in’ on my ax. De udder feller he
wuz standin’ over by the side-bode
lookin’ at de dishes an’ de silver
mugs an’ pitchers. De man w'at wuz
talkin’ ter me, he went up ter defier;
an’ lean over and worn his han’s.
Pus’ thing you know he raise up sud
den like an’ say:
“ ‘ W’at dat on vo’ ax ?”
“Dat's defier shinin’ on it,’ sez I.
“ ‘ I thought it wuz blood, sez he,
an’ don he laft.
“But. boss; dat young feller
wolildn’t a laft dat day, ef he'd a
knowd how nigh unto eternity he
wuz Ef he’d jeß’ lttid de weight uv
his ban’ pn ole Miss or Miss Sally in
dar diit day; boss; he’d never knowd
w’at hit ’im er whar he was hit at,
an’ my onliest grief would a bin de
needeessity of spilin’ ole Miss’s
kyarpit. But dey didn’t bodder tip;
body ner. nothin’, and dey bowed der
selfotil dey bad real good breed’
—dey did dat.
“Well, de yankees deji krip’ pasSin’
all de mornin 1 an’ it ’peered to me
dat dere wuz a string uv ’em ten
tailes long. Den dey commence git
tin’ thiner and tbiner—scacer an’
scaCef; ah’ bimeby I hear skirmishin’
goin’ on an’ ole MiSs she say it wins
Wheeler’s calerlry followin’ uv ’em
up. I knowd dat ef Wheeler’s boys
wuS dat close 1 wuzent doin’ no good
settin’ roun’ de house, so I jes’ took
Mars Jeem's rifle and started out to
look artist my stock: Hit wuz a
mighty raw day, dat day wuz, and
de leaves on de groun’ wuz wet so dey
didn’t make no fuss, an’ w’enever I
heerd a yankee ridin’ by I jes’ stop
in my traeks an’ let, ’im pass, i wuz
a standin’ dat Why in de aidge uv de
woods, w’en all of a sudden I She a
little ring uv bluh smoke btist outhn
de top uv a pine tree ’bout half si
mile off, an’ den mos, fo’ I could ged
der up my idees, here come de noise
—bang! Dat pine, boss, wuz de big
gest an’ dc highest On de plantasli’n;
an’ dere wuzn't a lira’ on it fer mighty
nigh a hundred feet up, an’ den dey
all branched out an’ made de top
look sorter like a umberill.
“Sez I to rnyself, ‘honey, you er
right on my route, an’ I’ll see what
kinder bird is a roostin’ in you I’
W’ile 1 wuz a talkin’, de smoke bus’
out agin, and den bang 1 I jes’ drap
back inter de woods an’ ekearted
roun’ so’s to fetcli de pine ’tween me
an’ de road. I slid up putty close
ter do tree, an’ boss, W’at you reckon
I see ?”
“1 have no idea, Uncle Remus.”
“Well, jes sho ez your settin’ dar
lissenin’ to de ole nigger, dere was a
live yankee way up dar in dat pine,
ah’ he had a spy-glass, an’ he wuz a
loadin’ an'a shoutin' at ,le hoys jes
as cool ez a cowcumber, an’ he had
his boss tied out in de bushas, ’caze
I heerd de creeter trompin’ roun’.
While I wuz a watehin un ’im, I see
’im raise dat spy-glass, look fru ’em
a minit, aLd den put ’em down sud
den an’ fix hissef fer to shoot. I sor
ter shifted roun’ so I could sec de
road, an’ I had putty good eyes in
dem days, too; I waited a minit, ttn’
den who should I see cornin’ down
dfi road but Mars Jeems I I didn’t
see his face, but, boss, I kriowd de
filly I bad raised fer ’im an’ she wuz
a prantiin’ an dancin’ like a school
gal. I knowd dat man in de tree
wuz gwineter shoot Mat's Jeems, ef
be could, an’ dat I couldn’t stkn’. I
had missed dat boy in my arms many
an’ many a day, an’ i hed toted ’im
on tny back, an’ i lamt ’im bow ter
ridean’howterswiman’how terrastlej
art’ i couldn’t b’ar de idee av stannin'
dere an’ see dat Utah abbot ’im. i
ltn.;wd dat de yankees wufi gwirie tef
free de niggers, caze ole Miss done
tole me so an’ i didn’t want ter llurt
dis man in de tree. But, boss, w’en
I see him lay dat gun ’cross ft lint’
an’ settle hissef foafc'k, an’ Mars Jeems
goin’ home ter ole Miss an’ Miss Sal
ly I disremembtired all ’bout free
dom, an* i jefflf raise up wid de rifle i
had an' let de man ifate all she had.
His gun drapped down and come
mighty nigh, ahoolin de ole nigger
when hit atrtftk de ground. Mare
Jtetns, heefcl dtf racket and rid over,
find when i tell on about it, you nev
er seed a mad tike on So; He come
dey wu* my eoOThtfns bin resting
** ‘How did he pet up there V
‘W>sLm>, be had oil a pa ; r ov
dese telejraf spurs—de kine wa’t de
fellers effcne poles wid.’
“YoattMars Jeems must be very
‘Lor,’ fhile, dey ain’t nutiiin Mars
Jeems isjgot dats too good for me.
Dat’s wli; make me say er’at 1 do. I
aint gwfce ter be work-'ng ’ronn’
here ’m<g dese chain-gang niggers
w’en i got a good home down yunder
in Putrobn. Boss, can’t you give de
ole niggrif' a tlirip fel to git ’im some
soda watijr wid ?
And the faithful old darky went
his way# J. C. H
TffE LASTLINK.
I was alone and friendless, with
the ex- ep'iop. of my brother Willis,
an 1 he vgjs far away when Miss Les
trange toon me to her home—took
me weeping from my dead mother's
arms, and sooihed 'me with gentle
words. All my early life 1 had been
a petted child, and I shrartk from
coldness as sensitive natures will
ever do,but in my first wild sorrow
for my mother’s death; Mildred Les
trange was so thoughtfully tender to
me that mv lonely heart.' turned to
her, giving love for love.
In all my life I have never seen a
woman as beautiful as Mildred.
What though some sorrow lay in
the depths of her eyes, were they less
deeply, darkly blue, and were not
her features perfect from the low,
broad brow, with its halo of golden
hair, to the daintily rounded cltin ?
One evening Mildred and I were
sitting together in the twilight, that
strange, weird hour between daylight
and darkness, she gazing with weary,
wishful eyes over the shadowy green
fields, and I, with my eyes fixed
dreamily on her face was thinking of
my brother Willis—\\ iliis who, a
year before; had been Miss Les
trange’s guest; who had come down,
his heart filled with love for his sis
ter, and no woman, save the memory
of our mother, holding a higher place
in it, and had gbne away loving Mil
dred Lestrange—loving her, but
knowing his love was vain.
1 thought of the day he kissed me
farewell, and for the sllke of Mildred
he was going abroad again.
“Oh, Willis!” I had cried; “why
will she not be your wife ? Does she
not know it will break my heart for
y.tju to go forth a wanderer ? Oh 1
Willis, you will not go ?”
He smiled.
“Little sister,” he said, “better
men have done that before, and
women less fair than she, but I,
Clare, have gone abroad before, and
what better could I do than go again,
where, amid other scenes, I may hope
to overcome my love for Mildred ?
Good-by.e, Clare,” he said, folding
me in his arms, “and love Mildred
as you have always done.”
“Clare, little one," Mildred Said;
turning from the window, “what are
you dreaming of if”
“I—l was thinking of Willis,” I
aiiswefed ; then, after a moment’s si
lence, “Oh, Mildred, Mildred, why
could you not love hihi ?”
A shadow fell over the beautiful
face, and her sweet blue eves grew
sadder;
“Clare,” she said gravely, “I will
tell 3'ou the story of my past life,
then judge is my heart one to be giv
en in return for the first loyal love of
Willis Stanton.
“When a child of six I went to
live with my Uncle Charles, my
father’s only brother. I was left
lonelier even than you in niy child
hood, Clare, for 1 had not even a
brother, and I got no share of my
uncle’g heart, for all the love he had
was lavished on my cousin Ralph,
ray uncle’s only child. Love was no
name for the passionate worship his
father gave Ralph—at was little short
of adoration. To me niy uncle was
always, kind, but he had ho love to
spare—it was all to Ralph!
“Ralph and I grew up like brother
and sister, but like very quarrelsome
ones, for lie was a haughty, imperi
ous boy, and, having no one else to
lord it over, he generally spent his
temper on me, and I, being seldom
submissive, a day nevdr passed that
something disagreeable (lid not oc
cur. Still we played together and
liked each other in a certain way.
“About four miles from us lived
Dr: Carlyle, my uncle’s family pby
sieianj and his son Deace spent a
grerit deal of his tiirie with Ralph
and I; in fact, being our constant
companion, and even then I liked
Deane much better tlirtn my cousin.
He was the complete opposite of
Ralph, being gentle rind courteous in
bis manner to all girls, but to me in
particulaf. He was a handsome hoy
as well, though not so handsome as
Ralph.
“When I was twelve years old my
uncle sent me to a fashionable board
ing Scho’ol, und Ralph went to col
lege at the same time, because Deane
Carlyle was going, and they might
as well enter it together.
“Six years passed and then I re
turned to my uncle’s.
“Ralph had been home the year
before, but had gone abroad to trav
el, and Deane Carlyle was studying
law in London, but when he heard I
was at home he came io see me, and
spent a month at his father’s, resting
himself, he said.
“One evening he came to fife;
grave and earnest, and asked rife in
imploring tones to hts his #'ife.
“My darling,Vbe Said, *it the
old, tender smile I liked So well;
“can you give me' ydur love', ami wait
till lam able ttf claim you 7 It may
be many ydarS, dear, though I will
work hard for yoitr sake.”
my him "wi'dlTt
thrill of jf oy:
r or
! "““ioilovTm" 4 Mildred ?’ he .aid,
j and, reading his answer in my fa'ce',
ho folded nle ih his arms." “You
will wait for me, Mildred ?” he ad
ded. Then, kissing my lips, he bade
me farewell, aud went ImcK to hi.
life of toil.
“Six months later Ralph came
home, handsomer, statelier, more im
perious than ever, and forgetful of
our childhood’s battleo. he arid I be
came the best of friends.
“Best of friends? Ob, Clare, I
must have been blind not to see that
he was learning to love me me
whose every pulse thrilled for Deane
Carlyle. God knows I never sus
pected the truth till one fair June
evening, standing amtd Ihe fitjwers,
he told me his love. Pained beyond
measure, I tried to stop him, but he
would not listen;
“ ‘Mildred, my darling, tell irie yon
love mo 1’ he cried; “tell me j’our
heart is mine.”
“‘I cannot tell you that, Ralph,’ I
answered, ‘for, save as a sister’
“ ‘As a sister ? Oh, girl! do you
love another that you mock me with
that expression ?" I ask lor corn,
von off-.r me the husk ! Think you,
Mildred, I will accept it ?’
“His face was flushed, his eyes
flashing, the blood of his Spanish
mother leaping in his veins, and I
shrank back, pale and trembling.
“He laughed mockingly.
“‘You are pale,’ he said; ‘find you
slit ink from me now: brii I tell you,
Mildred, you will j‘et be my wife
Do you hear, Mildred—my wife?’
“And then he held me in his arms,
and kissing me passionately; mur
mured :
“ ‘Darling, darling!”
“Mad with shame and hori'ol - ; I
struggled to release myself.
“‘Deane, Deane I’ I cried in ray
terror.
“‘I am liere, Mildred,’ said the
voice of my lover, as Ralph loosed
his hold.
“With a glad cry I sprang to him,
and the sight must have maddened
Ralph.
“‘So this is j ! orir lover, Mildred,’
he said; and then he raised his hand
and struck Deane across the face.
“Deane was by far the stronger of
the two men, and my heart stood still
as he put me gently aside, his face
colorless, his eyes blazing.
“‘Coward!’ he said, facing Ralph.
“‘Deane, Deane!’ 1 hlled wildly,
‘do not strike' him, if you love me.—
Ralph, for God’s sake’
“1 heard Ralph say, scoundrel!’—
and the next moment they closed in
a deadly clasp.
“Oh, the anguish and fright of
that moment as, pale and trembling
1 sank on my knees, a wild shriek
ringing from my lips.
“I saw Ralph dashed to the ground
and lie there motionless, saw Deane
bend over him, and then I sank sense
less on the ground as hurrying foot
steps "told me my shrieks had reached
the house.
“When I came to my senses again
Ralph was dead, and the man I loved
a wanderer on the face of the earth.
“Yes, Ralph was dead—dead in
his pride and beauty—dead in his
strong young manhood, a ted stain
oozing through his chesnut curls:
“When Deane had dashed him to
the ground his head had struck the
root of a tree; and when they raised
him up he was almost unconccious:
“He only spoke onch after they
carried him into the house.
“‘lt was all my fault,’ he said. ‘I
I loved Mildred and she—and she’
’ and then lie had fallen back
dead.
“I never looked on the face of
Deane Carlyle again, for 1 could not
wed the man ridio had taken the life
of Ralph—even though it was his
own fault—-and so it was better we
should hot meet again.
“Without a word of farewell lie
went abroad, and those who saw him
before he left could scarcely t, 11 the
Deane Carlyle of old.
“Clare, little friend, is my heart
that lias known what it is to love
and suffer—one that y-ou would wish
your brother to win?”
“Miss Lestrange,a gentleman down
stairs,” said a servant, opening the
door. “Looks like you, Miss Clare,”
lie added.
“It is Willis, Mildred,” I said ; and
then we went down together, and in
a few moments I was folded in my
brother’s arms.
After kissing me tenderly lie re
leased me and turned to Mildred.
“Miss Lestrangc,” he said, “I am
the bearer of a message to you from
a dying man. On my travels, almost
a year ago, I became acquainted with
a man who, somehow, attracted my
sympathy, but why /could not tell.
VVe became friends but not confi
dants, for he was strangely reserved
about himself, and, though we were
together for many months, we knew
little of each other—at least I knew
little of him. One night he met with
an accident and was carried home
fatally injured, and the next morning
he was raging in brain fever, and—
and, Mildred, he raved of you. I
stayed with him and did all I could,
but he was doomed to die. The
night of his death the fever left him
aud the light Of reasori returned to
his eyes.
“ ‘Willis,' f he said, ‘wheti tam dead
will yofi seek Mildred Lettrango and
tell Her—-tell her Define Carlyle is
defid/ arid ask be# to give one tear to
my memory, for I have loted her ter
the last ? Tell her I have looked on
he# fate trhen she never dreamed I
#as hear. Mildred—Mildred 1’ he
cried, holding out his hands as if
you were nea- him, as 11 he saw yoto
They were bis last words. He gaVe
one weary sigh and sank back dead,
with year name lingering on bis
lips.”
White as death grew Mildred’s
face as memories of the past swept
over her. She turned to me.
“Glare/’ she said piteously, “f may
His face grew pale, and his eyes
met mine with an eager, questioning
look.
“Clare do yon mean Ihere is hope
for me—do you mean she can ever
love me ?”
“Ever love yon, Willis ? She loves
you now, but she is unconscious of
it. She loved Deane Carlyle with a
girl’s passionate, romantic fervor,,
but her woman’s heart is yours.
Willis, you would not refuse one
hour's sorrow to the memory of
Deane Carlyle, and the memory of
the love he gave her ? ”
Years have passed since then, and
Mildred is my sister, happy find be
loved, as well as loving, and it is
seldom a shadow crosses' her beautis
fill face; but if ever it dues I know
that tile voice of Willis, speaking
tendeily to her, can banish it as
quickly as it came, for I know that
Mildred is very happy in the loyal
love of her husband.
THE SKELETON HAND.
Yielding to a riaiserable habit had
ruined me. It had blasted tnv pros
pects, dest-oyed my business' alien
ated my friends, and brought me
do wn to the lowest point of existence.
The habit bad altogether overcome
me ; in Vain I strpgglhd against it.
One evening I was sitting in my
miserable bdmti erttving for the stim
ulus that now was necessary to my
life. Rising, I walked to the cup
board where it was kept. My wile
knew well my intention. She fol
lowed me witli her eyes.
I went there desperate and care
less—only eager for the gratification
of my appetite.
1 reached forth my hands, trem
blingly seized the bottle, and was
about raising it to my lips.
But at that very moment, just as
the bottle touched my lips, I felt a
terrible sensation. It was as though
someone had grasped my throat.
“Wife 1” I cried, in a deep, fierce
Voice. “Hag 1 do you dare V” and
turning with clenched fist, I struck
at what I supposed to be my wife.—
For I thought HUS Was trying in this
Viblerit way in desperation to kee{>
me from drink.
But to my surprise, I saw my wife
sitting by the fire place with her work
in her hand.
It could not have been her evident-
A terrible feeling passed through
me. Sliudderingly I raised my hand
to feel what it was at my throat, or
if there was anything there at all,
which seemed to be grasping me so
tightly,'
Horror of hon ors!
As 1 raised my hand I felt the un
mistakable outlines of a bony thumb
and bony 'fingers pressed against tny
flesh. It was a skeleton hand that
clutched me by the throat.
My hand fell down powerless by
iriy side, the bot'le crashed on the
floor. My children awoke at the noise,
and wife and children stared at me
with white faces.
There I, tremblingly in every limb,
stood transfixed witli '.error, the aw
ful feeling of the supernatural now
fully possessing me. Unable to speak.
I gasped with fear. I drew away my
body but my head was still held by
the same dread and invisible power.
I could not move that.
But at ifist 1 felt the grasp relax.
1 staggered back, the grasp ceased
altogether, and I drew off to anothei
corner of the room, endeavoring to
go as far as possible from the place
where this mysterious thing had
seized me.
Soon my wife and children turned
awajj the former to work, the latter
to sleep.
And, now, gradually, my craving
returned. Yet how could I satisfy
it ? My bottle was broken.
I took my hat, fumbled in my
pockets and found a lew cents, and
taking an old bottle that lay in a cor
ner, 1 went forth into the darkness.
It was not without some feeling of
trepidation that I entered the dark
passage-way. Fear lest the same
thing of horror might return again
agitated me. But I passed on un
harmed and reached my old resort,
where I laid my bottle on the coun
ter. The clerk soon filled it. With
an irresistible impulse I clutched the
bottle and rushed forth to drink the
liquor.
I hurried off for a littlp distance
■and came to the head of a wharf—
Here, unable any longer to resist my
craving, 1 pulled out the cork so as
to drink<
Scarce hfid the bottle touched my
lips when I again experienced that
terrible feeling.
My throat was seized/ this timfc' tnore
violently, more fiercely/ as if by some
One #no had already warned me. and
was (foraged at having to rep'eit (he
warding. A thrill of horror again
Shot through die. Again the bottle
fell from my trembling Hand and was
crushed to fragments upon the storie
pavetoent.
•Again I raided toy hafiffs to
throat, though to deadly fear ; but the
motion da* mechanical—a natural
and involuntary effort to tear away
the thing that had seized my throat—
to free myself from the pain and hor
ror of that mysterious grasp. A gain
I fejt thefc under my touch, plainly
and unmistakable, the long, hard, bo
ny hand which I had felt before. One
touch was enough. My hands fell
down. I tried to shriek, bnt in vain.
I gasped for brea'h and thought that
1 would b i suffocated.
tf6. of).
But at length the grasp slowly and
unwillingly relaxed, I breathed more
freely, At length the touch
longer felt,
1 paced the streets, for a longtime'
V t first every vestige of my appetite
had been driven away by the horror
of that moment. As time passed ft
began tqrgtttrn. Once more I felt
the craving. True, the fear of another
attack was strong, and fora long time
deterred me ; bnt at last the craving
grew too strong /of the fear.
Nerving myself up to a desperate
pitch of resolution, I rushed back to
the shop where I had last purchased
the liquor.
“See here 1” J cried ; “I’m crazy
for a drink; I broke that bottle t
Give me a glass, for God’s sake—only
one glass 1”
Something in my face seemed to
excite the man’s Commiseration. He
poured out a glass for me in silencet
With trembling eagerness I reached
out my hand to seize it. With trem
bling hand I raised it toward my
lips. The grateful fumes already en -
tered my nostrils. My lips already
touched the edge of the glass.
Suddenly my throat- wka seized
with a tremendous grasp. • ~
It >vas as though the power which
was tormenting me had become erf
raged by my repeated acts of Oppd.
sition, and wished now by this final
act to reduce me to subjection for
ever.
This time the grasp was terrible,;
it was fiercer than ever, quick, impet
uous.
In that dread grasp my brealli
ceased. I struggled. My senses*
reeled. I raised my lianas in de
spair. 1 felt again the bony fingers.
1 moved my hnnd9 along bony arms
In madness I struggled. I struck
out my fists wildly. They struck
against what seemed like bony ribs.'
At last all sense left me.
When I revived I found myself ly
ing on a rude bench in the bar.
I r..se to ray ft and tried to get
out. The noise that I made awoke
someone inside. He called riu€ to'
me:
“Hallo, there ! are vou off?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Wait, I’ll let you out..”, „
He appeared in a short time.
“You had a bad turn,” said he, not
unkindly. “You’d better take car*
of yourself, arid not lie out at night.”
I thanked him and left.
Wjien I reached the house my wife
waked up and looked fearfully at me.
Amazement came over her face at
she saw that I tfus lober.' I kissed
her and sat down in silence.
She looked at me in wonder. Tears
fell frotrf tier eyes; She sal® nothing,
but I saw that slife' was prayin'#.
As soon as the shops were opened
I went out and managed to procure’
some food which I brought to the
room. I then left to go to my em
ployment. Through the day /felt
an incessant craving, but my horror
was so great that /would tel rather
cut my throat than have risked hav
ing that hand there again.
My wife said nothing. / saw,how
ever, by her soft eyes, the gentle Joy
of her face, and the sweet, loving
smile with which she welcomed me
home, how deeply this change in roe
had affected her.
Tims forced to be sober, my cir
cumstances improved. There wasno
any danger of want!
fot i came, and peace and pure do
mestic joy.
Ilemorse for the sufferings which 1
had caused to my sweet wife madtf
me more eager tq make amends for
the past, that so 1 might efface bitter
memories from her mind. The re
vulsion of feeling was so great that
she forgot that 1 had eVef been un
kind. 1 made no parade of rofortff!
1 made no promise and no vow. Nor
did she ever allude to the change—
She showed her joy in her face and
manner. She accepted the change
when it came and rejoiced in it.
1 still felt an anxious desire to get”
at the bottom of this mystery, and
once 1 told the whole story to my
medical man.
He was not at all surprised!
Doctors never arei Nor iy(f doc
tors ever at a loss to account for any*
thing.
“Rooi, i” said he, i.idmerently—.
“That is common enough. It’s ’ma
nia a potu. The brain, you knowj
becomes congested, and you see arid
feel devils and skeletons. Cases liks
yours are common enough.”
To me, however, my case seethed
very uncommon, but, whether it brf
or not, my case lies resulted in my
salvation. And never will I cease,’
even amidst my horror, to be grate
ful to that power which came down
clothed in terror to snatch me from
ruin with that Skeleton Hand.
Saying smart things does not pay.
It may gratify your spite at first, but
it is better to have friends than ene
mies. If yott cannot make peopUr
at feast refrain fyom adding
tri their misery. What it this woman
is not yoor Weal (ft worrianty perfec
tion, of that riisin trior ritodlrmanf
Your mission on eSrth is not in
mind them of the fact. Each of us
has faults of bis own or her own; in
correcting them we shall find apipl#
occupation. A “sting” or a “dig"
neter did any good—never helped
any one to be better. One who falls
into the habit of giving them sooil
looks ill-natured, it is not alwaytf
possible to join the Mutual Admira
tion Society and be a good membar,
bnt at iea£t one can hold om’i
tongue. “
“How was the sermon this riioro
ing, my darling 7” ‘frijjt waa bor
rid, stupid and dull, ma —something
about—let me seri—‘Thou s#alt half
no idols’—'T don’t rri'memtAsr eJtfgiAllf
for I w as so put out by that silly flirt
Belle Hinesaw coming into the next
pew with fourteen button kids wliod
1 had only 'twelve, that I conkin'#
keep my thoughts collected.”