Newspaper Page Text
m '}£ ' ! V • j| v^j\S|
IHHf- E< Mt T )IF°UD.
■pME VIII—NO. 1
' !***<■*-
),cr
it.wrti.'ii: Kitty
“Si ins, Ttinn-
' ' >tv rii-
•>' it.*' r\:il- t
K " new .noli ins. rlion.
.-harin' <•! 1" t"
rt i-' tin ' t !. r.
' 'JSEiw w particnli.r ixM.’f
-11 iililillP ••’ ’" ' ’• "1
ii Ek3s|u inmrl.il I'T I.*
lli'.ort mill 1
g*" inw
.it - 1 ' >■ ■Ni - r .■
■ ' gWtW „ T „.n will U liimlr- !-v m r:t•
"'SS|JaD\T.KT! SEMES I"
Lelert College,
'"dMfBOYS A.M> GlRI.s.
'Penn of this Institution will
v* 1 !*.
■>.
hlr'-i
fMPr tl.e citizens will E' :vi*i’ -
the teachers in tli* ir ttlmN t.
i
< I tin* country.
■ -. per month f- 0,)
: - <<a|list of insirmiM ?,! j ,-r s< ssi.-.i *J
Hoard
in private families ftt FIVE
pQ&HH}p.r month 'including 1 d-.:ii
ilaVK ot the \sr<K (from
to noon
r-l an xeeller.t opportunity
fcfSHiPl*" 11 r * towll i° chil
■ g the term, can be La<l at
iWIS-tf * President. |
'*t' ) \ *
MILL (i Kt\ KING H \OK J
PfO.
,rj‘ r.-ari .
inaßavT'o C '~~~-'.~n *.'. .-T
WBmi I 11 11 .S3
LE tel 1 UK_i^
'<S§DESY and. BEST
■rniture
IDDLE GEORGIA.
BLISHED IN 1831
flklK PRESENT PROPRIETOR,
■Sonias Wood,
Lanier Iloime, Macon, Oa.;
HHfitY DECEIVING TKESB ADDiTXOKI W
BOOM SETS,
EIhHIoU SUITES, Ac. (all atylts.)
fAFP ETS.
i*, Tapestry, S Ply Extra So per
''• Ingrain, Drugg©tt, lleuip,
■ Dundee arnl Cotta •.
rniNo new and cheap i
IW, COLLINS & EM,
■lMacon, (in.
ami Dealers in
ISMage-s, Buggies ad
Wagoiiw,
•SaF 1 bcogies k,, p t < ' nnst “ ;|ii >
satiKfactiou. Our pri.-.-i
: ©75 OO tocoo (10. lor
IHJjjBl t It beats all others; in tact it
k also call attention to our
ii- Sliop.
their busies overhaul'd
better than send
E. B. Vat-re,
n **®t circular.
. 'W& W- AS’. COLLINS A BKO.,
An** jA-tf Macon, Ga.
■I TTO MILL OWWERS. „
IT MILLSTONES,^
Bmnt Machines and E
Improve! M.U S
Addr<*s. =5
WM BRENNER,
ATLAJfTA, On.
TAIEOTTON STANDARD,
"T.l'NKSlny JANUAIiY ;), 18H.
Written lor the Standard.]
ESTHER;
OR THE
Tragedy of Millbank Bridge.
BY “I4ESA.“
CHAPTEL I.
MILLBANK BiilLllE.
The night was dark and tempes
tuous. The winds howled, and
raged among tliu trees, as infuriated
demons The rain was pouring in
torrents, while the vivid flashes of
lightning give the inky clouds a
a still more -ahle hue. The sullen
roar of the creen was hoard above
the peals of thunder, and shrieking
winds as the waters darhed over the
dam of the old Millbank mill, and a
man closely muffled, mounted on a
superb horse, was going towards
the Millbank biidge.
The bridge was old and some
what dilapidated. The railings were
broken and the flooring plank loose
and rotten, making it somewhat
precarious to cross in the day time
and exceedingly dangerous on a
dark and stormy night. Near the
bridge was an old broken down mill,
long disused and fast going to decay.
Once it, was the pride, and had been
the fortune maker in part of its own
er, Graves Millbank, a man of im
mense fortune, who had sold the
mill many years previous to the
opening of our story, and had re
moved to the far west, but the old
place lms always been called the old
Millbank mill.
The scenery around it was wild
and picturesque*. Tall rocks, # and
magnificent trees surrounded it,
while bright sweet flowers grew
spontaneously, for it was in the
centre of Florida, the glorious land
of flowers. It was a great resort for
the romantic maidens and poetical
youths, but all look upon the gloomy
and time worn building with feelings
akin to awe and superstition.
The waters of the little creek usu
ally so placid are now seething and
foaming, beneath the old bridge as if
angry at the slight restraint, caused
by the broken dam. The horseman
draws near and pauses, endeavoring
to penetrate the darkness and ascer
tain the condition of the biidge be
fore venturing to cross. We know
he is certainly a stranger, or he
would not hazard his safety by try
ing to cross that boiling stream on a
broken bridge that is so much di
lapidated.
And as the horseman dismounts
his frightened steed, carefully hold
ing him by the bridle reins, and pro
ceeds cautiously to the foot of the
bridge, let us take a view of this iin
prudent stranger. And penetrating
the gloom, we find a tall stoutly
built man whose face and healing
might well be taken for a brigand,
for fierceness and passion shone
forth from the dark fiery eyes, as
well as being -trcmgly depicted in
that stern inflexible visage. A large
felt hat was drawn closely over his
brow but not concealing the black
locks that were long and wavy. He
was enveloped in a long cloak, be
neath the folds of which closely
borne on his left arm was a small
sleeping child, not seeming to have
heeded the pouring rain or rattling
thunder.
‘Curse the bridge!' muttered the
man as he stamped his feet with rage.
<7 must cross, and here I find the
b.iidge so dilapidated and the waters
looking so black and threatening as
the styx itself,that I really think old j
Charon would let the spirits hover a |
few hours rather than venture over
such a foaming abyss. Hut cross l |
must, come what will, for this y'oung
one will soon awake and commence |
to cry and then I‘Jl be in a deuced j
fix. Daylight must Dot find me in j
fifty miles of here. Hut, blast it !
what am Ito do? 711 ‘
‘Just hand over all your change, j
together with your watch and other j
valuables, before we send you to try I
your swimming propensities in the
Millbank pond, 1 exclaimed a rough
voice near him, w hile a vived flash
of lightning revealed to dark figures
with pistols pointed towards him,
causing him to fall with fright.
‘Don't raise a disturbanceJLindscy i
AOODNTUY NEWSPAPER Full THE MASSES DEVOTED TO CIVILIZATION AND MONEY-MAKING.
TALBOTTON GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, JANUARY 3,1877.
Clayton,‘continued the same voice,
‘wo know you nml also are aware
that you have a lurgo sum of money
about your person. Perhaps if von
will give it up quickly, we will let
you go in peace, if not, we will linvo
to resort, to our little persuaders, tor
we will have your money or your
life. 1 And the pistols were placed
almost directly in the stranger's face.
‘You wish my money do you ? If
yon get it yon will take my life too.
And as quick as thought a pistol
was discharged at the ruffian, who
staggered backwards." You mid
night theires and assassins. I'll
teach you to attempt your nefarious
work against Lindsey Clayton, 1 ex
claimed the stranger hoarse with
passion.
‘Will you sir? I advise you to
learn the lesson of prudence and
take care of yourself,' replied the
other ruffian as lie discharged his
pistol at Lindsey, the bull penetra
ting only his cloak and passing
harmlessly by, as he sprang towards
his horse and attempted to mount
him but with a wild frightened
snort he bounded away bis hoofs !
heard in the distance above the roar
of the waters and storm,while Lind- i
sey Clayton stepping on a atone was I
precipitated to the ground and be-I
fore be could regain his position ills ;
ruffians hud seized and disarmed ■
linn.
‘Ha, sir! You are in our power
now, and by the fiends of hell, you j
shall not escape mo, but account for
this wound you have given me. \\ e
told you, sir, we only wanted
your money,had you given it quietly
there would have been no farther
parley. Hut now if you were to hi
me on your knees for your life, I
would not spare it. You can save
yourself the troublo to hand out
vour gold, we can remove it more
conveniently when the life is out of
your body. Hu',by Jupiter! v.liat in
that ?‘excitedly exclaimed the man
I in much surprise as the child tried
I to scream, and remove the thick
| covering from its head and body.
' Whose young one is this?*
‘lt is mine, and let me ask of yon,
if you arc determined to kill me, let
jour knife be hurried in her heart
too, for I had rather she would die
a thousand deaths than he in your
power. 1
‘Kill her, to be sure we will, for
what do wo want with a young
screeching brat, to he a living w it
ness against us VH e know,too well,
the sensation will he great over wiiat
what, they will call the ‘Millbank
Tragedy.’ Hut say ycur prayers
von have hut. one moment to live."
The pojr benighted man folded
his arms around the child and
quietly awaited Iheic a! h blow,as the
ruffian made ready with his pistol
and the ball true to his aim, pierced
the form of Lindsey Clayton, and he
and the child fell to the earth with a
groan.
The men proceeded to remove his
money and valuables, as well as the
darkness would allow and removing
his cloak, they wrapped it around
the child and laied it beneath a
shelving rock. And then taking the
body of tlie dead man, they proceed
ed to the bank of the stream and
plunged it beneath its foaming
depths, rapidly leaving the spot, for
getful of the little innocent they had
left near the bridge, for above the
storm could be heard an approach
ing horseman. And approach he
did, but instead of being mounted
on a magnificent horse we find him
on a mulish mule, that obstinately
refused to move as be neared the
foot of the bridge, and the shelving
rock beneath which lay the unfor
tunate child.
The rider was a boy, not more
than fourteen years old, enveloped
in a large great coat with seal skin
cap drawn closely over his head.
And as his beast suddenly stopped,
without a moment's warning, he al
most fell over the animal's head,but
no amount of coaxing or beating
could induce him to make one step
from the spot.
‘Hang it, what does the mule
mean ?‘ cried the boy. ‘Just as if a
fellow had the patience of Job, and
I think the old mun's patience
would have almost been spent, if he
had to ride a stubborn mule on a
dark night, particularly when ho has
had no supper and he knew his
mother was at holme a most crazy
about him, with hot coffee and lots
of good things waiting for him.
Want the mule 1 Go along here,yon
lunte, and wait, until we get acros*
Millbank bridge, before .you com
mence your mulish tantrums. 1 But
hlowjafter blow,between the lengthy
ears of the animal was all in vain.
And springing to the ground to try
the effect of leading, the boy was
startled at that moment by hearing
quitOjimar him a feeble cry t that
caused him to recoil with fright, as
all the old ghost stories he had evei
heard of the old mill rushed to his
mind, and with an effort only, did
he prevent his cap from rising off
his head, although the fastenings
seemed secure. The cry was repeat
ed, this time louder and quite dis
tinetly, saying:
‘Oh, I am so told, where is mv
mamma? Oh, mamma,do come to
Essie, her is so told and hungry. 1
‘By Nimrod! that must have been
a living ebild. But where is she ?
Where are von little east-away, or
waslmd-away, which,ever you are ? j
I have not the eyes of a eat, though I
1 think it. woug! take the eyes of j
\rgus to penetrate this blackness 1 , j
said the boy as lie grasped in the di- |
lection from whence the sound j
came. At last :: flash of lightning I
revealed the child* seated under the I
rock, who had disengaged herself |
from the cloak.
'Little one, for the love of mercy j
how came you here ? Did you fall j
from the clouds this dark night ?
Weie you placed here by a Naiad or I
Siren ? You must have been by the !
firmer 1 to judge by your dripping |
hair,‘ And the boy passed his hand j
over the dripping locks of the child j
again saying ; ‘Do tell mo how
you came here ?‘
Oh, boy! I dout know,there was a
heap of folks and a lag party at mv
mamma's, and I had a heap of
goodies, and then -then they put
me to bed. 'When 1 waked up, I
heard some body talking and a gun
shot- Oh, / does'nt know where /
am 1 wont's my mamma.* Vnd
t.lio little one commenced to cry
most pitkmsly again, and the more
the hoy endeavored to quiet her the
louder she would scream.
‘Oh ain't I in a pickle? Lardy!
Lordy! I don't know what, to do,
with the young gal, or bettor sav
young wild cat.,the way she scratches
and bless my soul the old
plegued mule half way home by this
time, for I had forgotten him. Want
mother he scared. And I'll not ho
surprised if I don't meet her com
ing after roe. Hut, (lie question
now is, what must 1 do witli this
blithering piece of humanity. I
cannot let her stay here, that is cer
tain, hut, by George ! f don't know
what to do ‘ 'ldle rain had ceased,
and the fitful rays of the moon, as if
occasionally shone forth from be
hind the dark flying clouds, revealed
to Horace Gleason, the small shiver
ing form ot the strange, and sadly
bereaved child. A feeling of pity
thrilled the heart of II mice as he
gazed upon the helpless creature.
‘HAH, he eventually exclaimed, ‘f
suppose there is nothing to be done,
except to take tier along witli me,
but /II be banged if /like tiro idea
of carrying a young wild cat in my
arms, while I‘m tn ading over broken
bridges, and muddy roads, with the
prospects of measuring my length
in a ditch.' The child had ceased
to cry, and sat up-right looking at
the boy H r ice with staring eyes
‘Are you a little t Id man, or a lit
tle young boy ?‘ she asked at last.
‘And what makes you talk to yersclf
so much ! Why dont you take me
to mv mamma, and tell roe who it
was brought me here ? Oh, 1 wants
to go so bad !‘
‘How the deuce do I know who
your mother is, or who brought you
here ? Hut come along with me, I
will at least try, and find you a
shelter, and dry clothing. Let me
wrap this thing around you.‘ And
he covered the child's dripping
form with the cloak, and lifting her
into his arms, proceeded to cross
the bridge, not without a great deal
of danger, on account of the broken
floor, beneath which the dark boil
ing waters were foaming. At length
he succeeded in reaching the oppo
site side,and the road being familiar
he walked away as rapidly as he
ponid. Hut a healthy four year old
child, enveloped in 1 eye ob-.fc
throughly saturated with water, was
no light burden, even for an athletic
youth, and Horace at lust sank al
most exhausted upon the road side.
‘Two miles farther to go yet!‘ ex
claimed Horace, and my arms fool as
if they had boon battered by a
sledge, and more than all, the moon
has gone down, and those woods
are dark as midnight. They do say
long rears ago a man was murdered
near the old mill, and his spirit can
he seen all through these woods on
dark nights, and that it always—Oh
mercy ! what is that? 1 He exclaimed
for a noise was hoard quite near
him, and straining his eyes through
the darkness, he saw a tall figure
moving towards him, enveloped iu a
long white garment.
Horace was forgetful of his fatigue
and sprang to his feet with his bur
den clasped in his arms, arid ran
with all possible speed. But the
frightful object, 'pursued him, and
was rapidly gaining on the terrified
bov. He felt, the hot breath of the
hobgoblin, upon his cheek, and giv
ing himself up for lost, again ho
sank t > the earth, breathless wth
fright. Not feeling a murderous,
and claim grip upon his throat, he
raised hi- head, and staring about
him sprang to bis feet, with a loud
laugh, as he discovered he had been
pursued, by bis own mule, which
had stopped to graze upon tho road
side, and the white garment was a
holt of white cloth he had pur
chased for Ins mother, and attached
to his sad,tie, and it had become
loosened bv the bushes, and w3
streaming in the winds over the ani
mal, giving him a most ghost like
appearance.
‘//. aven ! bless yon old Sambo?
You good old J/iile ! if it was not for
this sleeping child 1 would give you
a rousing hug, but could not prom
iso a kiss. You have given me a
a terrible fright, as well as atrouble
; some race. Hut I forgive you, old
| fellow, and new carry me home in a
hurry.* And mounting tho animal
he was soon at his mother's door
without farther udventuro.
CHAPTER 11.
CRAZY NELL.
Horace Gleason, and his mother,
livid near the outskirts of a busy
thriving little villago, not far from
the Millbank bridge. Their cottage
>vas small but comfortable and neat.
The few acres of ground that be
longed to them was cultivated by
Horace, and yielded sufficient, to
gathor with earnings received by
Mrs. Gleason for Hewing and em
broidery, to enable them to livg
above want, and allow Horace to st
tend the village school, whore he
had acquired a good education, for
he had applied himself diligently,
encouraged by his mother, who as
sisted him in his studies. Anil
when the fanning season arrived
lie was compelled to remain away
from school, would instruct him,
not wishing ho should be left behind
his class-mates, principally tho sons
of fortune, who know not the trials
that attended the poor anil ambi
tious.
Mrs. Gleason who was a widow,was
once th# only daughter of a fond
but ambitious father, that had be
trothed her when young, scarce
more than an infant in long robes
and bibs, to Giles Danforth, who
was several years her senior. He
was the son of an old e illege chum,
and fast friend of .Mr. Charlton the
father of .Mrs. Gleason. Both, Mr.
Danforth,and himself were exceed
ingly wealthy, and wishing to unite
their vast fortunes, formed the
compact of betrothing their chil
dren when young, to ho united in
marriage the day the daughter be
came seventeen.
The children were raised up with
this understanding, Funny being
taught to look upon Giles, who was
a haughty domineering youth, as her
future husband. He regarding her,
as ha would a very valuable pieco of
property, that was to carry the large
estate of Carlton Lodge, anil unite
it with his own immense fortune.
At the age of fifteen, Fanny Carlton,
was placed in a boarding school, to
remain until near her seventeen
birth day, when she was to bo mar
ried to her betrothed. When she
returned, all was surprised to find
what a miraculous change, hud
come over h- r.hoth in pers mill beaa-
D and dignity of manners
Gilos Danforth rode ‘over to con
gratulate her on her return, and for
Appearance sake, oormiH 'her con
cerning their fast approaching
nuptials, although it was wholly un
necessary, for arrangements had
been made, even the bridal robes
bring in readiness. On beholding
her beauty and grace, his selfish
heart was fired with love, and he
would have married her then, oven
if she had have been a milkmaid,
instead of the heiress of Carlton
Lodge. She told him she did not
love him, no, nor scarce respected
him, for his penurious and exacting
disposition, and begged to bo re
leased from the bend formed Uv
their parents.
lle obstinately and firmly refused,
while.fl/r. Carlton was incensed at
tho change in Fanny, and was anx
ious for tlie day to arrive, when the
marriage w ould bo consummated. A 1
tilings were in readiness,'awaiting
the appearance of tho bride elect,
who had asked to bo alone, fora few
moments, to commune with her own
thoughts, and composo herself .be
foro going through the terrible
ordeal. Impatient at the delay tho
bi ides-maids cut.ercd(her room, but
found# her gone, tho bridal vail
remaining ..here she lmd thrown it.
An alarm was given, and soon
guests, and nil had joined in the
search for the missing one. At last
a ladder of ropes was found attached
to-lier window, and each’came to
(lie conclusion a?ho , had escaped.
Giles Danforth was ns an infuriated
demon, vowing to find her, and was
hastily leaving the room, when a
strange man rushed in; and giving a
note to Mr. Carlton, quickly retired.
Tearing open the note with trem
bling hands, he read:
Mit. C & ill,To s: Do not bo alarmed, eon
rprniiif; tin', lain of your daußhtor. Sho in
now iiiv wife, lmvitiß bnonmiwriod but alow
moments ago at the old Church, by the
Rector. I have loved tier for two years,
and could not pivo her up, not oreu to snob
a wealthy speculator, us Mr. Giles Daa
forth. Ere this reaches yon wo will ho on
our way to my home, far off in the .State.
Adiou Annum Gleason.
Hut hoar me ye Gods 1
They shall know the power
of tho man they have insulted, hissod
Danforth, grinding tho note with
heel, and returning to his own
home.
Arthur Gleason was a noble,
worthy gentleman, that had won the
love of Fanny during her attendance
at, school. Ho was poor but with a
good position earned enough to buy
him a little homo, which was to
Fanny an earthly Paradise. Several
years had passed away happily to
them,for prosperity smiled upon thei
efforts, and to crown their earthly
joy they became the parents of a
bright eyed boy, on whom they cen
tered their chief hope and care.
Mr. Carlton had never forgiven
them, Fanny often shedding tears as
sho thought of his loneliness, and
anger against her. Otto day Giles
Danforth came suddenly to her door
and informed her coolly,that he was
planning revenge and warned her to
beware for he had never forgiven tlis
great disappointment and humilitn
tion, she had caused him. Some
time had passed, when a theft was
committed in the bank to which
Arthur (Henson belonged, and he
was the one accused, hut a sufficient
amount of proof not being obtained
to convict him, he was discharged
and utterly ruined. Ho had spont
the greater part of his prosperity in
the defense of his character, and
now they were utterly miserable.
Shunned and looked upon suspiciously
by fill, he moved !o another portion of the
State, hut there his accusation followed him
and he was soon out of huHines*
l ime after tiroo L * had thought, the and irk
cloud was aispeKiriK, hut ere night, the
cl ai l would ho blacker thau before, by tho
workings of a MV-ret foo. At length they
Dime to the little cottage near MiUbunk
Bridge, and threo years passed happily, by
tlie sondy tried pair, the ceil fortune that
had attended them so long seemed to hi* to
ceased, and with it* disappearance, arcs*,
fond hopes,of again rebuilding their ruined
fortunes.
The Millbank Mill was th'Ui in operation
and Arthur 4 Gl?aon was tho mnimgcr and
director, having gained tho confidence and
os'eem of the ovrnor, Orates Millbanks. One
dark and stormy night, he did not return
homo as early as usual, and his wife grow
ing uneasy at his delay, I-ft her hoy of flto
summers in the car <• of m s rv int, and wont
in search of him, not heeding tho boating
rein and howling winds, for a dreadful np
preh'uisi'-n had sri/.-'l her hat till vg*. not.
well vjth !> r hit*’ nud ’: ' g
TERMS, fig.OO' ft Year In Advance.
WHOLE NUMBER 342.
tho ci 11 clammy face nf Arthur fllMson*
still r\d lifoiwin.
Morning 6ame bst Mr s. (fleeton 414 twt
return. Tbs fprrsnt, taking ths strttd,
proessded to essrch tr her and Iks eight tkM
mst List frightened gane, sho Iks
bridge, wns ens to strike terror end awe, ts
tho stoutest Iwurt. Mrs. Glesson set with
her husbands dead body clasped tu her
arms, while her garments were dripping
wiih the rain, her "owj\ faoe looking ax
white and death like as the oue she so ton&lj
clasped. A frightful, ganh was lu his tem
ple, and a stream of blood had stained the
bridge. An inquest wan held and the ver
dict rendered:
‘Came to his death, by falling and strik
ing liiw head against the sharp corner of
stono. ‘ For ouo wras lying near on which
was blood.
For bo me years, Mrs. Gleason had lived
alone iu the little cottage, with her son, and
the faithful old uegress, the only on they
possessed. Sho at alone before tho bright
cherry fire, awaiting tho arrival other non,
thcpiight our story opens, hi* supper via*
awaiting him, and the littlo teakettle fling
ing merrily in response to the srickoU chirp
iu tho corner. The homo scone was a plcM
ant one, but the lady was restless and un
easy.
•Why does not Horace come?' aho
murtnered. arising and going to the window,
pet rod out into the darkness. “Nina yoar*
ago to night, Arthur lost his life, on Mill
bunk Bridge ! It is now broken the water*
will rise, and it will bo dangerous to try k>
cross, he will try, I kiw*. Oh, my God !
tho two nights are similar. Will 1 be colled
upon to drink from the name* bitter cup,
that wns my portion then ? Why <lo*h h
not come VMy brain will go wild ? But
God is my refuge and I will trust in hiui.*
So Raying nlic took the well worn Bib!©
from the Bland, and opening it rcrereutly
read that touching Fh.iliu that hnn Bpoke*
comfort to the hearts of many.
•Tho Lord ih iuj Shepherd. I nhnll no*
want. 4 ml th©n fell oil her knees, and
poured forth a prayer of supplication, for
the safety of her child, and Christian grmow
and resignation to bear any affliction that
might tie placed upon her. She felt th
soothing powvr of the Holy Spirit and area©
ouch more resuming the work tlmt had been
thrown aside. A violent knocking wm
heard at the door, and she sprung to open
it with a thankful cry for she thought ifi
must be Horace returned. But instead of
her w>m, a tall female, with dnppiug gar
ni mts and streaming hair, rushed iu, rang
ing Mrs. Gleason to almost flwuon with
fright.
The face was as wbito and polished aa
marble, but tho eyes had a wild vacant
stare, that told tho sad talc of dethroned
reason. Tho natural grace and refinement,
giving her the air of the lady but tho vacant
oycH, and constant moving lips; gave her a
pitiable look, that almost brought tears to
th eyes ot Mrs. Gleason, who had always
stood in horror of lunatics, but this poor
creature inspired ft feeling of pity instead of
fear. So going to her, ns sli# Blood before
tho fire, warming her long transparent
hands, mnUeritig 4 to herself, or in a iov
voice, singing snatches of songs.
Gleason spoke to her iu gentle tones.
‘Your clothes are wet and yo* or© to ooiA.
Let m© give you soma dry ouor, wkiia y©%
sit down in this arm chair by th© uice warm
tire. Come ,be good now, 4 and she tried tw
force her in the chair,
‘Oh no !* replied tho maniac, placing h mr
hands on her dripping garments, and si lik
ing her voice to ft lower ky. *His gar
ments ware dripping aad there was hlojd
on them as well ns on his hands ! There U
blood on his hands again to night ! Do yo
not see it ! Soo the dark circles coining na
mine, that I have tried o hard , to, wank
away. Inst ldo yon not hear, thr Win!
Imps, and Black Spirit©,howling *n hoands
from the JNutoaian Kingdom? 'J hey &n
beging now. Hark 1 SLih ’ They havs
ted tk blood an th© | bridge ! Blaw4 I
blood ! blood is th©ir cry l Did yea art
hear that death groan ? Wau the ritygia
Pool darker than that foaaiing litresm I
They tried to keep me in -but 1 knew he
would oome, and lake my hand ae b©fo*s
and dye it with the blood that in ou hit.
See the dark lineM uro gone, and my Land is
white again. 4 And tho poor demented crea
tore h-ld the talon like hand to tho light,
with a mirthless laugh.
Mrs. Gleason blood as if stupified with
horror, at the wild words; alarmed ncisted
her, as she asked herself: ‘Una Horace been
murdered, and was this poor lunatic th©
moans of informing me. 4 Theae thought*
passed raj idly through her mind. Bk©
turned to the woman and asked:
•Wlmt is your came‘poor lady, andwkare
do you live V*
•What is my mime, you usk me that?
Ha ! ha!
Once they called me,Star-eyed Fairy,
Once they called me, charming Boll©,
Once / was known, as the pride of 4t.
Mary.
But now they call mo Crazy Nell. ‘
J La ! ha ! ha ! ‘
At that moment an inpetioim knock wm
heard again at. the door, and Mrs. Gleoaaa
knew it was Horace, and as she ojjeutd
the door, in he walked, with th© straug©
child m his arms, when his mother clasped
him iu her arms, regardless of th© bundle,
she supposed ho carried.
‘Slop, mother, stop for mercy snk© I
Dont squzo inn to death. Do nave tu*
little i© 11 to ii ut ol breath I lmvo left. 4 And
hr, Let down in a chair, while ms mothor
eyeing the bundle in bis arias seeming to
move as if something alive, asked:
‘What is that, 1L >ruee, you have got now ?
What animal lmvo you picked up? 4 And
she heard a Round, between a whine and a
scream, issue from the cloak.
‘Dont knew mothor, what kind of an arj
mul you would call it. But l think it a
species of the Wild Cat.* And Horace *di©-
engaged the child from the cloak, pUood
Imr on a chair, while lie laughed loudly at
his mothers horrified looks.
'flush Horace ! hush l and tell roe wh*i
this moans ? W here did you find tbiw child ?
At that moment the little ouo gave a frigh
tened cry, causing the lunatic; to cease h©r
mumblings, and with a glad cry, started to
wards her Raying:
‘My RAcet darling !‘ but suddenly ah©
stopped, aud gave a cry of horror recoiling,
as she pointed at tho cloak. ‘Did I not tU
you the Black Spirits RceuteJ the blood ?
Did I uot tell you I. hoard th© (Wixgroau ?
See tho blood ! lurthinksl feel its clammy
touch, and she cover© 1 her handsaw if they
wore indeed dyed with the datk ©tain, that
was so plainly viable-, on the cloak and
clothing of tnc Utile child. 4
[This Story will bo continued in tha
Sta.vi>a:u> for next w<-*k ami until it is fm
i hod. It w. i run thrmigt”. nunj number*
,‘.n.l will I • n r .and t, in*-- ‘d|n* Tf