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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.”