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H Ptrtcai S Th8 News an Herald. PCBU8HED ZTEHT TUE8BAT. L. B. CATES, Editor and Publisher. this op season PIOS : One copy one year, tn advance .. *L50 If not paid In advance, the terms* are *2.00 a year. A. dab of six allowed an extra copy. Fifty-two numbers complete the volume. THE NEWNAN HERALD. WOOTTEJf A CATES, Proprietor*. VOLUME XXII. WISDOM, JUSTICE AND MODERATION. TBBSS :••*!.50 per year in Adranee. NEWNAN, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JAXUARY 4, 1S8«. I NUMBER 13. The Newman Herald. PUBLISHED ETEBT TUESDAY avH t *ir \ott-Mtm Ono inch one year, *10; a colum oa. vear, *100; less time than throe moutna. V tw per inch for first insertion, ami 60 cents additional for each auosequent to- '^Notices In local column, ton cento per lino for each insertion. Liberal arrange- nents will l>e made with those advortiB- ^ttiMvortttnt. must b *0, a* St Address all'c^inmuiuoauone to Auarosa a ^ u.CATEo, Newnan Ga 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.