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Th8 News an Herald.
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THE NEWNAN HERALD.
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VOLUME XXII.
WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION.
TBBSS :••*!.50 per year in Adranee.
NEWNAN, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JAXUARY 4, 1S8«.
I
NUMBER 13.
The Newman Herald.
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Our lives are albums, written through
With good or ill, with false or true.
THE WORK OF YEARS.
The yrars but make tb»f fairer, love.
As by us they ore roll il:
Thy charms arc but th • rarer, love,
Thou never wPt tfrow old.
Thy brow it but the whiter, love.
As swift tie* days go by;
And yearly prowrth brighter, love,
Tl»*- sweet light in tliy rye.
Mon- delicate carnal ion. love.
Thy rounded cheek doth woo;
And it s no revelation, love,
Thy lipr, have found more hue.
A»d wouldst thou know the wherefore, love?
The secret's no surprise.
Yet one that thou wilt care for, love;
My heart U in my eyes.
—W. J. Henderson.
M01IGILEES VISIT.
In the office Father Mougilet was con
sidered a curiosity—he had never been out
of Paris but once in his life. It was now
the last of July, and each of us would go
every Sunday to roll on the grass or bathe
in the water of the surrounding country.
Ansiers, Mai son and Passy each had its
habit lies and admirers, who spoke warmly
of the advantages of these celebrated
places, so delightful to those who work
in Paris.
But Father Mougilet would say: “You
are all a flock of sheep with your ‘beauti
ful country;’’ and we would answer:
“Well, Mougilet, you never go any
where; you never take an airing!” ••Par
don,” said Mougilet, *1 take my airing in
an omnibus. When I have taken my
breakfast at my leisure, over there in the
cafe, I climb up to the top of the omni
bus, open my umbrella, stir up the
driver, and lo, I see many things—more
than you do in all your promenades. I
change my quarter, and it is as if I had
made a voyage across the world—the
people are s*» different in one street frof.i
another. There is nothing more amusing
than to watch the entresols as we pass,
the barber, the modiste, the washerwoman
— it is a theatre, a true theatre of nature,
seen by the trot of two horses. I would
not give my promenade on the omnibus
fur nil your promenades in the woods.”
To this we answered: “But you have
never tried it—come with us one time mid
see!”
“I di«l try it once,” replied the old man;
“it was twenty years ago, and 1 have
never tried it again.’
“Tell us about it. Mougilet.”
“As you will; so here it is: You all
know Bolvin, the old clerk whom we
called Boileau. Well, he was my com
rade in the office. '1 he old rascal had a
house at C , an ! he was always beg
ging me to come ami spend Sunday with
him, boosting o f the jolly time we would
have together. One lay I concluded to
accept his invitation, and started by the
early train. I arrived at a little
village, a country village, where
one sees nothing, and ended by find
ing myself inn little lane between two
walls, at the end of which was an old
wooden gate with an iron bell. 1 rang,
and waited a long time. At last the gate
was opened, and by something that looked
like either a woman or a monkey, I could
not tell which. It was old and ugly and
wicked, and covered with dirty clothes.
It lind feathers in its hair, and looked as
if it would devour me.
“What do you want?” it demanded. .
“Mons. Bolvin.”
“What do you want with Mons. Bol-
vin?”
I felt ill at easd before the interroga
tions of this old fury, and I stammered:
“He expects me!”
“Ah, it is you,” she replied, “whohave
come to breakfast!”
1 mumbled a trembling “yes.” Then
she turned toward the house and cried in
a harsh, croaking voice: “Bolvin, here is
your man!”
It was the wife of ray friend!
Ixittle Bolvin soon appeared at the door
of a little plastered lint covered with zinc,
so small that it strongly resembled a foot
stove. He had on white cotton trousers
and a crushed Panama. After shelving
hands he took me into what he called his
garden. It was a square of ground about
ns big as a pocket handko*rJ
rounded by. houses so high
'reached it only for an hour or two during
the day. Some pansies, pinks, wall flow
ers and rose bushes struggled to grow at
the bottom of this well, without air and
*s hot as a furnace from the reflection of
the roofs.
“1 have no trees,” said Bolvin, “but
the walls of my neighbors take their place;
1 have shade ns if I were iu a wood.”
Then he took me by the buttonhole and
said, in a low voice:
“You will do mo n great favor—yon
saw the citizen ess—she is not handsome.
To-day, as 1 have invited
She placed her hands upon her hips.
“Yon have not had enough, I snppose.
Because yon bring some people here that
is no reason why you should devour every
thing in the house! What would I cat
this evening?”
We got up. Bolvin took me by the ear
as we went out. “Wait for me a min
ute,” he said. Tie passed into the kitchen
where his wife was, and I heard him say:
“Give me twenty sons u? .Nearest!”
“What are you got* /to do with the
twenty sous?” / /
“One does not F >tv what may hap
pen,” he replied ft is always good to
have a little money.”
She fairly howled her answer so that I
could hear her: “Xo I will not give you
twenty sous. Since this man has had
breakfast with you it is as little as he can
do to your expenses for the rest of
the day.”
Bolvin came out to me again and as 1
wished to be polite I approached the mis
tress of the house and bowed, stammering:
“Madame many thanks! Gracious recep
tion 1”
“That’s all right,” she replied; “bnt
don’t you go and bring him back drunk,
because if you do you will have to settle
that with ne: do you hear?”
We started on our promenade. A large
field, hare as a table and boiling hot,
stretched before us. We had to cross it.
Bolvin said: “Have a little patience;
we shall soon be at the bank of the river.”
When wc reached it there was a fearful
smell of stagnant water, and the sun boil-
in • j down upon it mmlwne sick. I begged
Bolvin to go in somewhere to escape it.
He took me into a sort of barracks full of
men—a tavern for fresh water sailors, and
said: “This does not look very nice, but
it might be worse.”
I was hungry, and ordered them to bring
an omelette and some wine; but with the
second glass Bolvin lost his head, and I
then understood why his wife did not give
him his wine pure. The old reprobate
jumped to his feet and wanted to make
a speech, and then he mixed himself upps
a pc: cmaker In-twecn two drunken
sailors who began to fight, and we would
both have been knocked in the head if it
hadn't been for tin* proprietor of the estab
lishment, who clinic among us in time.
I dragged Bolvin away, and dropped
him in the first thicket I came to, and
laid down beside him. lie fell asleep at
once, and I soon followed him. It was
night when I awoke. Bolvin was snoring
like an engine. I shook him and made
him get up. He was still drunk, but not
so much so as before his nan. We started
in the darkness to cross the fields. Bolvin
pretended that lie knew the way, and led
mo first to the right, and then to the left,
and th n to the right again. We could
see neither heaven (*r earth, and seemed to
he lost in thicket of thorns which struck
nr, about the height of our noses. Wc
circled around there for an hour or two,
turning, twisting and feeling our way
like a couple of bewildered fools, and al
ways coming back to tlie same place.
Finally Bolvin stumbled over a stick
and fell to the ground, tearing a hole iu
his cheek. He remained where he had
fallen, yelling at the top of his voice:
“Lay to! Lay to!” while I cried: “Help*
Help!” lighting some wax matches lo
show any passersby where we were, and
also to give us some courage. After
awhile a belated peasant heard us and
came and put \:s on our road.
I conducted Bolvin lo his own door,
but just as I was leaving his wife np
THE PASSION.
peared with a candle in her hand. When
she saw her husband, for whom she had
been waiting since the close of the day,
sho rushed toward me. howling: “All.
canaille, I knew you would bring him
home drunk!” She scared the very wits
out of me, and to save myself 1 r; : all the
way to the station. For fear she pursued
ine I locked myself up in the baggage
room, for the next train was not due U
half an hour.
That is why I have never married, an
why I never leave Haris.—Translated for
The Enquirer from the French of Guy
de Maupassant by E. C. Waggencr.
▲ youth, light hearted, rollicking and bold,
I sail'd upon th" sea.
And in a California gathered gold
And Afric ivoric.
While, Arab like, ashore I pitch-:- ! my tent.
Which, scarcely pitched, was furled:
My dreams were mine. and. easily content.
Was monarch of a world.
Ah mo! ah me! a wild flower saw, and now
I pine and mope alone;
The sail's unstretched, and, motionless, the prow
Obeys no master tone.
—Frederic Lucca Squires.
BILLY HITCH I NS.
It was undeniable that the big box
stove in Dave Rcavis’ store was the mo.-,
inviting rendezvous in Little York a
rainy uftemoon in late October, 165,; for
cold and cheerless was the wind whistling
down the old emigrant trail, and the
driving rain obscured the new sign of the
Blue Wing saloon on the other side of
the plaza. Little rivers sought channels
among the twisted roots of the giant pines
swaying uneasily in the gusts which
brought down green spray and dried
branch in disagreeable confusion. Closed
were the livery stable, butcher shop and
blacksmith forge to the east; to the south
two private residen :es showed closed
doors and veiled windows; to the west
the hotel, Dine Wing, and gambling shop
made a gallant struggle against the pecul
iar depression of the day; while on the
north the stores, stables and warehouse
of the controlling commercial magnate
were open to such necessary attempts at
trade as the purchase of gold dust (for
cash) or the exchange of bacon, fionr and
good whisky for bad accounts on a series
of already overloaded books. The crowd
of miners and loafers, calmly watching
with lazy satisfaction the combustion of
a quarter of a cord of fat pine wood in a
giant stove, regaled itself from time to
time with stories more or less veracious
or decent, and in a corner Tennessee
Jack, the Judge, lxmg Harry West (the
expressman), and handsome Dick (a gen
tleman who left New York city by re
quest) were engaged in financially sustain
ing their private ideas of classic poker,
it was a day of idleness.
Tlie door opened and the beaming
though dripping face of Billy Ilitchius
appeared. General social movement of
chairs and proffer of three fingers of
whisky and a seat. A prompt accept
ance of both by the wet and wearied miner
who had done his two miles, and a half
up the winding trail from Bear river,
breasting the gusts with the sturdy
pluck of a Briton, for Billy was a bright
Cornish lad of it. whose quiet, cheerful
wav had made him a general favorite.
II*'' cabined alone in a little nook near
Bear river, where he had a hank claim
and toiled alone, save for the chattering
companionship of a few Chinese, who
were already cleaning up the abandoned
riv?r claims, skimmed overby tlie rest
less and unthrifty whites.
It was soon noised about that Billy had
sold his bank claim to the slv but good na-
tured Chinese, who marked his returns,
and was to give possession on tlie morrow,
and only reserving the right to clean up his
ground sluice and leave a clean set of
boxes and riffles for the Mongolian part
ners. whA were already weighing up the
purchase price in dust, and with reed
stylus and Chinese yellow slips figuring
up with keen eyes the deposit due from
x i- c* TT.... Cnn Wa nrtil ttio ntllPl"
A False Kind of Economy.
Economy means the pnrchc.se and use
of the very best, articles, so ns to get the
very best out of them. A sick horse may
be bought for a little money, to be of little
or no use, a care on your mind, an ex
pense to your pocket, and a bringerto yon
of nothing but worry. This is an ex
travagant horse. Competition, which
seeks to lower the price of everything, is.
the death of trade. It cuts down lower
and lower, until at last no profit is left
any one. Then the factory stops. The
workman lias nothing to do. The boss
fails, absconds or goer, in other business,
l Competitive cheap labor docs not tend to
tV t The sun thakc arfistar rvv hsgeuhto make imi-
‘ 1 j tutors, copyists and counterfeits. .
A shilled needlewoman—one who took
an artistic pridolu her work—said to me
after a week’s experience in one of New
York’s groat retail bazaars, where scores
j of cheap dresses “iu tlie latest style’’ were
■ turned out daily: “There is no cucour-
agi mont in our workshop for good, care-
I ful, painstaking work. The girl who can
I rush the most thread through the most
j yards of cloth and turn out the most
l dresses, in reality not much more than
j basted together, is the one best praised
sluThns I ;m,i best paid by her employer.” When
given me mv clean clothes, but if I spot : 7®“ *'UJ . K “ cu ti ’btem on (uci..ir.. = ,i
them there will be the devil to pay. So I j yon " encourage “ work
TSffiKSed up -one without conscience ami only for
my sleeves^and be 1 cas! >- 1 on discourage honesty. \ ou di.
rns&eu tne cnestnut curls away
from Ills forehead and I think a tear from
his honest Irish eye. The frightened
Chinese clustered around us and the de
clining day began to throw a soft pall of
shaili ws over the scene of death. And
THE WOOD THRUSH.
What is it you are whispering, solemn woods?
What hide and hint ye, slopes of sombre preen.
Whose dark reflections blur the crimson sheen
Of the lake's mirror, whereon sunset broods,
the rushing river sang shrilly over its j Trance-like and tender? Speechless, conscious
rocks, “Too late! too late!” while the i moods
great swell of the forest organ moaned: j Are yours, ye purple mountain shapes, that
“Gone home! gone home!” oJdvinzdorr. What mav mean
A litter of poles was constructed, an< . ^ ' still „,^ through whose wil no thought
the poor bruised face veiled with a cloth. ; intrudes
and slowly np the trail, borne by the will- With e arth-shod feet? Can any voice unfold
ing arms of his rough friends, “Billy The tremulous secret of an hour like this.
Hitchias came for the last time to
the camp. A comittee was appointed
by the justice to take charge of
his cabin, and when the cortege, swelled
by all the male inhabitants of tlie ridge,
reached the plaza the darkness of night
was npon us. The justice’s office was
considered the fittest place for temporary
rest, and there the poor lad’s last night
above ground was passed. It was notigod ^
as an evidence of nice dHcriminition fr^.t*
the Blue Wing had closed its doors r.ud
decent whisper conveyed to the less guile
less portion of the community that the
Arcade would deal no game for the first
time in five years. The absence of Jack
Feathcrbridge, the dealer, would have
necessitated their suspension, as it was al
ready known that Jack was five miles
away on his ride to Nevada after Parson
Cleveland, remarking that “if coin would
fetch the preacher he’d have him on the
first deal.” The time made by “Kicking
Kaje,” Jack’s marc, on this occasion
stands yet unequaled, and is explained
by his calm desire “to do poor Billy
proud.” At the mass meeting presided
over by Col. Howard a series of resolu
tions. passed nem. con., were prepared and
neatly engrossed by Ned Gaylord for trans
mission to the absent and aged mother
whose only boy had “cleaned up his
last ground sluice.” It was unanimously
resolved to do the square thing by Billy,
and a committee of three, with power,
was designated to take charge of the con
siderable effects and prepare to send the
glitering grains, for which lie gave his
life, to the mother he toiled for.
There was much decent emulation as
to tlie preparations for the funeral. It
was decided tlie best the camp could do
was not good c lough for Billy. Already
on the hillside, where the'manzanitas
were the handsomest and a few live oaks
el istered in simple grace near a giant
sugar pine, a spot was selected for the
grave, as remote as possible from all
contingency of further auriferous re
search.
The delicate question of writing to liis |
So burdened with unutterable bliss?
Oh, hush! oh, hear the soul of twilight sing!
One poet knows this mystery. Everything
The landscape dreamed cf has the wood thrush
t0ld —Lucy Larcom in The Atlantic.
A BROKEN HEART.
Down in the heart of Kent—that most
beautiful of English counties—stands the
grand old Norman castle of Avonleigh.
Built upon a gentle elevation,it commands
a splendid view of the richest scenery.
Broad stretches of forest whose giant
trees dwindle into mere atoms in the dis
tance. Gently undulating hills, merging
into the bluest skies in the dim distance,
with here and there a tiny glimpse of sil
ver sea.
It was the eve of that most disastrous
internal struggle, “The War of the
Roses,” when the fair flag of England
was stained with the blood of her noblest
sons. Lord John de Gray, the master of
Avonleigh, had already declared himself
a warm adherent of the house of York,
and when the tide of war mingled its
turbulent stream with the pure and
peaceful waters of domestic life the gray
haired earl was found fighting bravely
beside his only son.
A mellow day in autumn is drawing to
a close, the soft light of a harvest moon
is contending for supremacy with the
shadows of the sinking sun. In a little
while the castle is bathed in the tender
moonlight, the clinging ivy leaves glisten
like silver and trenrtfle tram the faintest
perfumed breeze.
The earl’s only daughter, Lady Miriam,
a fair haired maiden wfth a wondrously
beautiful face, is down in tee quaint old
garden, drawn thither by fhe singular
beauty of the night; and, verily, moon
never shone upon fairer form fhan hers,
and the flowers sent forth their sleeping
inceDse to greet this living “Rose of
AvonlJlgh.
w As she stooped to pluek a white rose
mother was unanimously left to the three J from its thorny stem the delicate finger
married ladies of the camp, aud I am j was pierced and a crimson drop stained
sure thrt tender tears fell that night over j the rose’s purity, but no murmur escaped
the little bundle of mother’s letters and j her, and gathering up the folds of her
farnilv relics handed, with his best Vir- I white robe she walked slowly back to the
ginia bow and a slight clearing of the
throat, to them by Col. Howard. Poor
old colonel! It is to be hoped that some
kindly woman cheered the last hours of
your gallant boy, Chandler Howard, who
tried to get inside of Hancock’s lines at
Gettysburg in the later, then unborn,
years. With the remnants of Pickett’s
division he did not go back, but lay on the
stricken field, remembering his old Vir-
castle.
Young and beautiful, surrounded with
wealth and pleasures, this young girl
knew not what unhappiness meant; like
a bird whose gilded cage protects and
shelters her, life indeed was all sunshine
without a shadow.
Though rumors of war were in the air
and men spoke in serious tones of the
strife which seemed inevitable,
ilia motto: “Not to go back on any- thought of danger marred the calm happi-
thing.”
Morning again, calm and still, and up
the wooded hill wound the little proces
sion. By the open grave etood the entire
ness of her existence.
Already she had given her heart to
young Wilfred Aylmer, as brave and
handsome a youth as the sun ever shone
uv sleevcs^and began to turn tne arm oi , . . ® , .•„,,, ,
in old pump which whistled, wheezed and courage the v.ork ’ „ ‘ %
allied like * consumptive, bringing a drains, skill car^ consctcnce aud
ti,lirti,. That is another name for arctic
rattled
stream of water the size of my little
finger; it took me ten minutes to fill the ,
watering pot. 1 was all in a perspiration.
Bolvin directed me: “Hero, this plant—a
You discourage honesty.
L be put
and time,
•istic work.
You arc helping on fraud. You help rns-
i cality. You oppose yourself to justice
and fair dealing. If you buy where you
little more—that’s enough-now, "this cau buy the cheapest, without regard to
one—” The pot leaked in » perfect stream | s ; u 0 the getrin„ o£ an nrfi lt
anil my feet received more water than the for the least possi.m. money, yon ^.re t n
plants. The bottom of my trousers were ! conragtng fraud aud mj^Uee. Prenace
soaked and thick with mud. Twenty Mulford to ban Francisco Chronicle,
times at least I recommenced, rewet my
feet, reperspired, in trying to make the [ Ahead of the Eastern jugglers,
old pump go; and when, completely ex- 1 “The Japanese were the original jug-
hausted. I wished to stop, Bolvin took me glers,” says D’Alvini, who is an Knglish-
by the arm supplicatingly and said: “One man with a command of ten languages,
more potful only one and it is done. ” ; "but- Iho Kuropcans have improved on
And when it was finally done, as a ; their example. As jugglers, conjurors
recompense lie gave me a rose, a great big 1 and masters of all the arts of legerdemain
rose. Bnt had scarcely touched my but- i Europeans surpass the world. Y.'e hear
tonhole before all its leaves fell off, ieav- ' a great deal about Indian juggling and
ing only as a decoration a little green the wonderful tricks of the marabouts,
pear as haul as a stone. 1 said nothing, j such as bringing bird? into existence,
but I was astonished. I causing them to lly a short distance and
The far off voice of Mme. Bolvin was then ret in:; bnt such stories are Indian
now heard: | tr.’.e;—mere fairy tales. I traveled for
“Will you come when one tells yon all months in India and I never saw any
is ready?” ’ ] trick there that I could not perform my-
We approached the footstove. If the ‘ self. The people of that country are very
garden was full of shade the honse was 1 ignorant, and have no knowledge w’nat-
full of sun, and the second oven of the ever of electricity and compressed air, two
baker was cooler than the salle-a-mangcr important elements of our work. Enro
ot my friend. Three plates flanked by peons and Americans can beat the mara-
pewter forks, badly washed, appeared on bontsat their own trade.”—Chicago Her-
a table of yellow wood, in the middle of aid.
which was au earthen dish containing tVUv the Women Are Pleated,
some boiled beef with potatoes warmed The women of the United States seem e»-
over. We began to eat. A great carafe pecially gratified at the compliment paid their
of water, slightly tinted red, caught my by the superintendent of the bureau of
eye. engraving and printing in selecting the
Bolvin, confnsee. said tohis wife: “Say, vignette of Martha Washington to adorn the
now, my dear, for this occasion couldn't new fl silver certificates. Mr. Graves has
yon give us a little pnre wine?” received a large number of congratulatory
She frowned furiously: “So that you letters from tlie friends of the women’s move-
conld get drunk, both of you, and stay nuait ail over the country; but the present
here gi-azling all day—no, I thank you!” superintendent deserves only the credit of
Bolvin said no more. selection, for, as a matter of fact, neither the
After the ragout she brought another vignette of Martha Washington nor that at
dish of potatoes, made up with bacon, and grant, which is on the *5 notes, has
when we finished that she said: “That is en grav>id expressly for this purpose,
all—yon can go now.” Bolvin looked at They were chosen during the administration
her stpnefied. of gasilear in the bureau of printing and en-
“But nmpigeOD, my dear; the pigeon I giving, and have been waiting for yean to
aaw you pluck this morning?” ’ be used.—Washington Letter.
Ah Sam. Hop Kee, Sun Wo and the other
wanderers from the Flowery Land who
ornamented Bear river crossing. “Going
home.” Magic words—“made his pile”
—“Lucky dog.” It was vugucly under
stood the pile was about $27,000, with the
addition of the price of tlie bank, of which
Billy had been the managing partner at
A bhe end of a long handled shovel, and the
e^r nest egg concealed in the lonely cabin.
Sailor Bill, an old man-o’-war’s man,
suggested “as liow Billy ’ud clothe hand
some tiling” before leaving, and efter set
tling some preliminaries Billy departed,
as tile stores were already lessening, hav
ing engaged several pack mules to in to
on the morrow his few personal effects
tn the “Bnrg.”as it was proudly called.
Men envied the honest lad, who had not
turned the golden tide of fortune down
Ids throat, obstinately expended it in sup
porting peculiar visions ns to the relative
order of exit of flic last three cards from
the faro cases presided over by the" hand
some Frenchwoman who ornamented the
“Arcade.” The cold rain ceased splash
ing, forgot to patter, and the bright,
laughing stars sparkled in the clearest
skies on earth. The swaying pines seemed
to swell their genprous breasts and gently
murmur: “Going home! Yes, going
home. ” In many a straggling cabin that
light were little parcels mad
f.,r Billy’ to leave at tlie ’oa},
New York, and Sailor Bill, bor
rowed a beautiful specimen to send to the
buxom lass who presided over the bar at
the “Foul Anchor.” at Portsmouth. By
the flickering candle light here and there
roughened hands wrote words of cheer to
absent ones at home, for here was the
first friendly chance in two years.
Morning in the mountains! Far reaches
of bine distance touched with liquid gold,
down the pine clad canyons poured the
sj -akiing shafts of light, and dark gorges
gave up their shadows prisoners to these
bright lancets of the growing day. Little
York shook itself up—assumed its respec
tive burdens of toil or laziness, blinking
vie * was sleeping off its last night’s drunk
—the ringing sound of the blacksmith's
hammer was musically breaking t he sweet
silence, and the rattle of the dice box w:ts
hushed in the Arcade, whore no sound
was nflible save the buzzing of the half
inebri. *ed flies aud the tinkle of the bar
keeper'.- spoon as he mixed “the same”
for old Col. Howard of Virginia. The
colonel was on his way to Sacramento to
try the celebrated case of the Five-Spot
company against the Natchez Belie.
Higher climbed the golden snn and
passed the meridian. It was 2 o’clock
when shouts broke the drowsy stillness
of tlie camp. A breathless bareheaded
Chinaman, snuffling np from the Bear
river, fell exhausted in front of the store
and panted out: “Pilly Hitchin, Pilly
Hi.cilia: him hank cave in!” “Billy
killed. Great God, boys, Billy's under
the bank!” yelled Lazy Jones, the idlest
lounger in (own, as he led a motley pro
cession of the bystanders at an unpre
cedented speed.
Deserted was shop, forge and saloon as
the whole town streamed along the nar
row trail. Long indeed were the two and
a half miles, albeit downhill, and many a
good heart fell out in that heroi: race for
another’s life. As the spot where the high
red bank gaped its ugly jaws was neared
the chattering cries of excited Mon
golians were heard. The gnrgling rip
ples of Bear giver seemed to cry hurry,
hurry; while the tall forest sadly whis
pered. with rustling lips. “Gone home,
gone home.” “Turn on the sluice, boys,
we’ll wash him ont,” cried handsome
Nell Hicks, who now sleeps far from
home on the same red hillside. It was
the work of a moment. The frightened
Chinese had brought all their picks and
shoveis, and as onr friends madly hast-
population of the camp, and tlie solemn J upon, and whose strong, young arm shall
— also be wielded in the cause of the noble
house of York.
Through the wide, dimly lighted hall
way Lady Miriam walked slowly and al
most unconsciously, clasping the now hall
crimsoned rose to her bosom, until she
reached her father's study.
The old carl sat In profound thought
and did not heed the soft footfall until a
tender cheek was laid against his own.
“What a dark brown study my dear
father is in,” murmured the sweet voine.
The earl’s f;ice was seamed and shad
owed with care as he lifted his head and
words of Parson Cleveland fell cold and
distinct as rifle shots on the stillness of
the bright monntain day. Men listened,
moved strangely by the unfamiliar utter
ances. At the head of the grave the three
sobbing mothers gave evidence of woman
ly sympathy and modesty. At the out
skirts of the crowd Mmo. Celestine leaned
on the arm of Jack Feathcrbridge, who
calmly reasoned on the new discovery of
feeling in his fair charge, whose silent
tears attesteil her womanhood in common
with her more virtuous sisters of the
openly acknowledged world. Poor Jack,
he was just as calm three months later ; a sudden paleness overspread his features
when he lay on the floor of the Magnolia j w h e n he saw the white rose which she
saloou at Grass Valley with five bail holes laughingly held np to his gaze,
in his breast, and faintly murmured, j “I was flunking of yon, my pearl,” he
pointingTo his shapely feet, “Boots!” and ■ replied, drawing the fair head down to
they were taken off. and poor Jack slept j Him and kissing the sweet, childish
far away from his fathers. I mouth, “but now that yon are here,” he
The mournful ceremony achieved, the added, “like a, gleam of sunlight among
procession was slowly withdrawn and a ; my shadows, I am no longer sad.” Brt
few brawny Cornish lads filled up the ; seeing a shade of pain in her eyes he
grave, which was shortly neatly inclosed. | added hastily
The parson was solemnly dined by the j “j was indeed thinking of the time
three families Col. Howard lending his ! when some one would rob me of the fair-
stately presence. Little knots of men dis- |
cussed the details of the obsequies with j
local pride, and it was agreed that Red :
Dog, Liberty Hill, and Dutch Fiat- could
not have approached the eminently satis- .
factory handling of sudden and saddening
events by the people of the camp. The
action of the commi$tein donating Billy’s i, ut beautiful faces of other Lady Miriams
cabin and loose tooLs|to the kind hearted locked down npon her.'
J qnesteo to lead mm to tne presence or
Lady Miriam.
Throngh gorgeously decorated halls,
where the air is heavy with the odor of
flowers, huge vases of white roses greet ■
the eye at every step, dropping, ns if iu
welcome, their rich petals at his feet. ;
Truly the fairest and fittest welcome to
the victor.
(too(Try Vane was a brave gentleman
and a gallant soldier who had often con- ;
fronted death in many shapes—a man to
whom fear was a word without meaning
—yet to-day his heart sank weakly and his j
limbs trembled as the rnstle of a woman’s
dress fell upon his ear. In another mo
ment he is bending low before Miriam
Grey, who is his consin and whom he has
never seen until to-day.
There is glad and gracious welcome in ■
her face and her voice as she holds ont
her hands to him. Ah! how can ho tell ;
her the story which may quench the light j
in those bright eyes forever or mayhap ]
chill to death the white hand now lying
in his own!
Oh, victorious white roses whose beauty
is sullied by the life blood of father,
lover and brother, well may yon droop ;
your heads in the great halls below nntl
shed your pale leaves in pity for her whose
peerless head is well nigh level with the
dust. Aye, this day of glorious victory
brings grief unutterabe to the now deso-
late Lady Miriam.
The October winds arc sighing among
the gables and turrets of the castle, whis
pering the woful tale to tho leafless trees
and dead flowers. The crimson and gold
leaves are being buried beneath the snow
which is piling high above them, and all
nature puts on her saddest garb as the
magnificent mausoleum nt Avonleigh ;
closes its ponderous doors npon the dead
victors.
Like a white shadow the helpless Lady
Miriam paces ever throngh the lonely
halls and galleries, where the dead roses ;
are still untouched. No hand has been al
lowed to touch the withered emblems of j
welcome since that fatal day.
Frozen and cold as the beautiful eidel- j
weiss she hus buried herself from the i
world. Patiently and hopelessly has ’
Geoffrey Vane tried to warm tlie dead '
heart to life. I.ong and tenderly he has ;
hoped that the stricken heart tendrils j
might revive and bloom again in tlie sun-:
shine of his love.
The springtime has come again with its
soft blue skies. The tender flower bnds
are unfoldingto tlie snn god whose breath '
nurses them from the brown bosom of tlie
earth. The snramer has come with all its •
gladness. But yet no bloom comes to the
checks of the widowed girl—no bright
ness to her sad eyes.
Again the Octolier moon is bathing the
castle of Avonleigh in its yellow light,
flinging grotesque shadows upon the
stately mnnsolenm and the dying flowers
are sending forth their last perfumed sigh
ere the rude touch of winter comes upon
them. Up in her boudoir the golden head
is bowed in prayer; she hears not a foot
step until Geoffrey Vane utters her name
reverently. She lifts her head, looking at
him with eyes that seem to emit the very
light of heaven itself. His heart bounds
with great joy. Alas she is waking to his
patient love. The cold hands are not with
drawn from his now. For the first time
the weary head is restin g against hi.*, heart.
At last his unwearied love lias found an
echo in the sweet bosom and moistened
the parched heart. Tho lips, which his
warm kisses fall upon for the first time,
are cold, bnt oh! the love and life und
promise that he sees in the ineffable smils
with which she tries to reward him. It
was truly
A moment's gleam of 6un,
Sweetening the very edge of doom;
The past, the present—all that fate
Can bring of dark or desperate
Around such hours.
But make them cast
Intense radiance while they last.
Speechless with his great happiness he
holds her closely in his arms. For onr
brief moment the beautiful lips are up
raised to his, and in that one long kiss the
wounded white rose breathes her last lov
ing sigh and Geoffrey Yflne holds the dead
Lady Miriam in his close embrace.—Mary
Mahoney in Chicago Journal.
est flower in my garden of roses.”
She chided him lovingly for thinking
too soon, and, with her accustomed prayer
and good night kiss, left him.
Up the wide staircase she goes, slowly
and thoughtfully, now throngh the great
picture gallery, where the old fashioned
D. I. DOUGHERTY & CO.,
ATLANTA, GA.
No Introductory Chat with onr friends. There is no apol-
orey to offer for this, either, because this is a
BUSINESS ADVERTISEMENT!
And Don’t You Fokc;et It!
CLOAKS AND WRAPS!
We can openly <le;v the whole state on these goods. W e have an overwhelming
stock and will close them out at wonderfutlv low prices. The winter has on j >
gun. t he prophets and the -‘goose bone” all predict cold weather ahead. Lome
wiule we can afford to give you timely bargains. Jerseys at very “low cut prices
—away nndei what they were earlier in the season.
KNIT UNDERWEAR!
Here again we are defiant, liec.mse nobody can touch us. Knit Underwear [or
Ladies, Children ami Men We do all the business of tlie town in tins line, and
are not afraid of being touched by factory prices. We liavo bought out the facto
ries and are underselling them.
LOWER YET.
Oil Flannels and Pant Stuff, we are ahead of the closest competitors. We have
an immense stock, and cvervthinjr is down to low rock prices.
A new and extensive stock of handsome holiday goods, something useful an<
something to please everybody.
Water Proofs and Repellants
For ladies’ and childrens’ suits. We know we are underselling everybody here,
and we sav it boldly. Cotton Flannels, from 5e to20c, immense bargains, and yon
will not fail to sav so when v.m get the go-ids. New Wool Hosiery. New Wool
Mittens, for ladies und children. New Silk Mulders. New Silk Handkerchiefs,
we have them from 25 to 50c, sold last season at from 50 to Toe. New Cotton ana
Linen Handkerchiefs in great variety, very low.
BM1K3STS MB COMFORTS.
Let everybody blow their horns, hut von will make a m stakejif you fail to come to
us for any of* these goods. Blankets from 85e to $15.00. E per
er than any house in Georgia. Comforts from 50c to and $4.00. ^ow tneso
are big values, and we won’t deceive you when you come.
DRESS GOODS.
A fearful reduction in everything we have in the way of Dress Goods.
We have a heavy stock, a superb selection, choice material, and we in
tend to surprise everybody who will come and look at them. New
Evening Silk in great variety. New Silk Cord and Buttons to match
for evening (rimming. The handsomest line of Holiday Millinery ever
brought to Atlanta.
GLOVES.
New Kid Gloves in all colors, 50, 65,75, $1 and $1.50. Our $1 Gloves
are guaranteed.
TABLE LUMENS.
We will save you 25 per cent, on these goods. New Ruohings. New
Collars and Cuffs. Big drives in bleach *<i and unbleached Domestics
Good Prints at 3 and V/,e. Prints at 5c. cheap at 7j4c.
SHOES.
We are ahead of our own purposes In Shoes. We run more men and
have more Shoes and sell more Shoes than any house—than any two
houses—in Atlanta. Shoes for everybody and Shoes cheap enough to
open your eyes.
D. I DOUGHERTY & CD.
Lit
CbinfiSL.who assist* so handsomely in
the ineffectual attend.was •un
proved and Hop Wo. the running mes
senger, was an especi.-.l favorite and free
from Caucasian violt ;;ce forever, ^le
committee of three was discharged upon
the acknowledgment of the English consul
of the receipts of the estate, and the stiff
but hearty complimentary letter was long
a pride to the old timers. Jack Feather-
bridge escorted the parson home to i
Nevada in knightly style, and the current • ^ unruffled bosom of a clear, calm
of life in the camp ran its even way, only ; i a fc e . Her placid bosom had never been
broken in several months by the receipt of disturbed by a sad thought. True, within
a tender letter from the bereaved waiting j past few months, her heart had awak-
mother in far off England, who begged to i ene d t budlike, to the new and sweet
thank the three kind ladies and all the j knowledge of another love. That very
camp for their unexpected kindness. ] morning s h e had been plighted to Sir
Sailor Hill remarked “as how Billy’s been • Wilfred Aylmer, and their marriage
How He Kept HU Trowscr* Creased.
There is a dude in the department of
state the creases in whose pantaloons are
the admiration and envy of his fellows,
and they long sought In vain to discover
how he kept them so. It was a secret he
refused under any circumstances to dis
close, and there was a belief in the de
partment that he had a tailor come in
every morning and do them up. But the
mystery was discovered when he went off
imiua 011 k* s vacation not long ago. He had
Woo *1.-'i been away for a few days when one of
i upon ner. \V as it the weird ... J i « (ir ,
.... .. * . - .. - ' , , - i his ch n ms received a telegram from him
▼TRanEgm mat made those dead faces > ^ - ,7,
6wm "> --"J Iran “; - p 5„ „„1 b, .»». at one. .
ZTS? tti mueol l^ipUM —•
she passed beneath them?
She soon reached her favorite room,
high in the west wing, a cozy nook,
where she loved to look npon the moon
light scene without and inhale the faint
fragrance of the garden beneath.
Lady Miriam’s life had indeed been like
done well by,” and I have reason to know
that the words of the thankful letter were
communicated to Mme. Celestine, who
was strangely moved thereat, being then
darkened in sorrow for the unreturning
Jack.
To-day the camp is lost; yawning
chasms show where hill and gorge have
been moved away bodily liy the giant
search for gold of great companies; there
is no town of the name; the dwellers
therein are scattered and the familiar
places know the old time* no more.
Nothing left but the memories of the
quaint old days gone forever: nothing
speaks of the Gush times: the plaza has
gone bodily into Bear river and the only
main rock structure of the cleft gorge re
mains. Far on the heights the lofiy pines
sway and sing at night and the rustling
leaves whisper sadly of the past. Yuu
could not find to-day “Poor Billy Hitch-
ins’ ” grave, and many of the actors in
the little scene have learned the bright
secrets hid behind the shining stars.—San
Francisco Chronicle.
The dull days for wool and mutton are
going to be over at last.
Finest Historical Library.
F.x-President Andrew D. VTi-ite, of
Cornell, is said to have the finest histori
cal library to the country. It numbers
over C0.CU0 volumes, besides maav val
uable manuscripts.—Detroit Free Press.
Originated in . Kneipe.
During the same year I spent a few days
in Bonn, Germany. In a ‘•fcneipe’’ I noticed
in the centre of the table a thick cord, the
mme as you And in am. of the old restan-
ened down the trail a hundred stout arms • rants for call bells. To the cord was fastened
were working with frenzy in hopes the
thirty feet of soft surface earth might
yield tip its prey alive. At last, at last,
the sickening sonnd of a shovel striking a
soft, yielding body was heard, and poor
Billy lay before us, pale yet warm. A
professional opinion was given by hand
some Ned Boland, who left the doctor’s
scalpel in Dublin for the shovel it Cali
fornia. “Gentlemen, no ho Da.” said Ned.
a fox’s t.;i and whenever any one told a dry
story or related an exploit that seemed doubt
ful there was a call for “Fox,” and a junior
student, who acted as waiter, or fag, as the
Knplish call it, pulled the fox’s tail and rang
a bell. I was told thiscuctom had .listed far
fully 200 years.
Norf if that doesn’t explain the origin of
the -**—“-"* bell call me stupid.—Philadelphia
would toe celebrated when the war cloud
had rolled past.
Long and sadly the earl mused that
night; his heart was full of foreboding of
coming sorrow. What if in this war
which every day seems more imminent he
should fall? What if this, his one ewe
lamb, should be orphaned—desolate? He
tried to drive away his gloomy imagin
ings by recalling the sweet face of her
who had just left him with words of love
and hope, and prayed that this “bitter
chalice” might pass away.”
Bnt, alas! a month later saw the rival
parties engaged in determined and deadly
strife—saw also the white haired earl
and his son fighting side by side with
yonng Wilfred Aylmer.
Oh, selfish kings and avricious princes,
how little ye reckon the cost of yonr
crowns; how little ye care. News trav
eled slowly in those days, bnt medimval
maidens did not sigh and pine like us of
modem times, but looked hopefully for
the triumphant return of their victors,
their minds being molded and tinted to
their warlike surroundings. Battles
boded only an access of honor and glory.
Rumors at length reached Avonleigh
that a great and decisive battle had been
fought, in which the house of York had
triumphed. Preparations on a magnifi
cent scale had commenced at the castle
for the return of the victors. Joy bells
rang from every steeple and belfry in the
village. All were jubilant in the belief
that their noble lord was coming home
with honors.. Ah, bnt here was a mes
senger at l^et riding in hot haste. He
looked neither to the right nor the left os
he rode past the gay banners and resound
ing cheers of the happy villagers. Both
horse and man were sore, jaded and cov
ered with foam from long and continued
riding, but he never drew rein nmtfl he
reached the castle, whose gates were
thrown wide open, bar and bolt giving
way to graceful arch and emblems of wel
come.
In the outer courtyard he flings the rein
to a servant, who stares at him in silent
wonder. Another atoniahed lacker to re-
mattress on my bed.
The friend attended to the errand, and
his compensation was the knowledge of
the process by which the dude kept his
pants creased. Now no clerk in the state
department goes to bed without first plac
ing his breeches under the mattress and
the result is a marked improvement in
the appearance of their legs.—Chicage
News.
Admiral Aube’s New Gunboat.
Admiral Aube, of the French navy,
seems to be a wide awake and lively old
salt. His new gunboat has jnst been
tried and found worthy, her speed being
ov**r nineteen miles an hour. He proposes
to build a great fleet of these boats, each
carrying a single gun of the most power
ful description. Half a dozen of snch
boats, it is now believed, would be more
effective in a naval engagement than one
large iron cladship. A firstclas3man-of-
war of the modem type would, it is
thought, lie as powerless against a fleet of
snch lively little gunboats as a bull
against a swarm of hornets. The Ger
mans arc also turning their attention to
smart gnnboats of pretty much the same
kind, and possibly in the near future com
petitive examinations to the tactics of this
new marine cavalry may form part of the
programme of naval service reform.—
New York Snn.
THOMPSON BROS.
Bedroom, Parlor and Dining Room Fornitnre
Big Stock and Low Prices.
PAROR AND CHURCH ORGANS,
WOOD ANSTfiSEilLIC BDBIAL CASESl
The Snn Bear’s Claws.
“Yonder is the hardest animal in the
world to keep confined in a cage,” said
the reporter’s escort, indicating the sun
bear, an importation from Borneo. “We
were compelled to line his cage with iron,
as you see. He has claws on him nearly
a foot long and as sharp as knives, and
he’ll cut his way through the hardest
woed in no time.”—Cincinnati Enquirer.
Mexico City’s American Hospital.
The American citizens that live in the City
r*f Mexico liave issued another appeal for the
American hospital to be erected in that city.
A very desirable site has been secured, on
which it proposed to erect four small pavilions
with an administrative building in the center.
One of these pavilions is fast approaching
eompi?tion and it is hoped if funds are avail
able, t * erect the central building soon. The
whole plan calls for about $50,000, of which
about £30,000 has been subscribed. It is hoped
that many Americans will aid this most
worthy object.—New York Tribune.
The Crown Prince’11 Dairy.
The dairy on the farm of the German
crown prince near Berlin yields 1,00$
quarts of milk every day, and he has ar
ranges to sell the produce to Berlin
parties
eplft- lv
^Orders attended to at any’ia-'tr day or night.jET*.
THOMPSON BROS Nawn^eT Gt
E. VAN WINKLE & CO.
Manufacturers and Dealers in
Wind Mills, Pumps,
Tanks, Etc.,
ALSO
Cotton Gins, Cotton Presses
Oil Mills, Etc,
CONSTRUCT
Public and Private Water Work*,;Railroad Water
Supplies, Steam Pumps Pipe and Brass Uoads.
Mend.for Catalogue and Prices.
E. VAN WINKLE * CO*,
52-13 Box 83, ATLANTA, GA.
o C ISON.
g. g. McNamara
NEWNAN MARBLE AND GRANITE WORKS.
-:0:-
ISON & McNAMARA.
DEALERS IN
MARBLE&GRANITE,
MONUMENTS, TOMBS AND HEADSTONES, TAB
LETS, CURBING, ETC.
QjtF S|>erial Designs, and Estimates for any desired work, ]
application.
NEWNAN, GEORGIA.