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JOURNAL AND MESSENGER . j RNAIi & MESSENGER. , ~N, OA.. MONDAY,. OCT. 20. I Hi; OLD KEEPER’S STORY. s a quaint room in which I sat, with the , t Cashing into each corner, and the stuffed ' ox es and polecats looking life-like in the .blaze- A quaint cottage room, but tho 'o! comfort. As I pulled at tho stiff glass r and whiskey and puffed my meershaum, . . comfortable. I was in no hurry . iu y wet water boots dried, which lay steam- Wl ;’ n the ample hearth. V vmporary host sat opposite; a fine, athletic with snow-white hail and whiskers. The ! (i;is coat and tho wary look on his weather . . honest faco sufficiently told tho cx-game .. had not the retriever pup at his feet and behind him added evidence. A linespec his class, ho was well-knit even at eighty of age, with a frank, cheery look in his eye j 0 f straight-forward truth and worth. • : jubeen snipe Hhooting on some marshes I V,i of the lady of the manor, and having got 'Hi in a deep rivulet from a fall, had sought ( r in the keeper’s cottago. To be a sportsman . (o be sure, a passport to his favor, added to t!) * grandson, Torn, was my invariable at ' mt nn d bag carrier. The old man I had seen ~ e , when on my renting the shooting from f ; t i W ood, ho, us her head keeper, had shown boundaries. The great hall was closed, for !' j inwood, a childless widow, lived perma "V ; ’ a yiee, and her fair estates were all lot. , 9a widow of a poor Lieutenant Colonel, . : d for gallant service, and had succeeded to property in lack of direct heirs. , niy host, was something more than head , . Kvidently he had been one of those au rusted servants to whom the honor andiwel a family are dear as to its own members. v . • the sad look on his face whenever he spoko ' i[ .ires of Lin wood I fancied some portion li.iily history was mournful and unhappy, 'you see much of Lady Linwood?” I asked. , Sever, sir. She always is abroad. And .Vs never been a Linwood here since the last Mite died.” -That was long ago?” ! sir, long ago. Fivo and forty years ;t -n sir,” said he, musingly, his eyes fixed on the Sn ; -rive and forty years agone—and like yes terday I was interested. Thu keeper’s manner, action .iidexpression were al4 unlike his class, and I felt curio.ni}', as we nil do when something tells us da hidden history. q suppose the last fcquiro had a good stock of pmef said I. sir. Hundreds of pheasants ho turned ■_! was a youngster then—undorkeopor—aud j Med to fetch all the sacks of barley to feed’em.” “And was he much of a sportsman ?” t'JVs, sir. With the gun, rod and horso ho was a.ed all the country round. Ho was stall, i limi, with coal-black hair and whiskers, pleas s. ii.ikind to tho tenants, but with a fcarfultem if anything should go wrong. Ilo’d ravo, aud ,ir, and smash all around him in tho room when ws in one of his storms. The only person who managed him was Miss Dora.” Here the keeper became silent, and a look of iajsadness came over his rugged faco. You’ll havo to stay a longish time, sir, for your .s are soaked. So, if you like to hear it, I’ll : t»i tho story. I supposo I’m like old men, ..cl like to maunder,” he added, with a smile uural dignity aud courtesy, which might havo befitted a prince. Mr. Gcorgo Linwood, five aud forty years ago, I.lit squire. Ho lived with his mother, a geu t. Slio was always on hor sofa, and never Belt, but kind as an angel to tho poor. Miss Dora Hi,Hand, her niece, came to stay up at the Hall v.. them. Her parents wore very poor, and she’d -isters; so they were glad—Miss Dora’s parents, I:;,an—when Mrs. Liuwood said she’d adopt her jji daughter. I heard this, you know, from the s maid at the Hall, who was afterward my tv. Sho died years ago.” And the old man s;lied, and glanced ut an empty chair near his ow. ‘Well sir,” he resumed ; “Miss Dora came, and Ha Linwood was very fond of her. So was •ybojy, for she was so sweet and gentle, and iii-t Mee'was like a blackbird’s. Everybody about u -late knew Miss Dora, and she used to go - :; in her broad hat and carol her song, for all world like a blackbird in the holly. The cot ters used to know her, for whenever any one was ill there Miss Dora was, potting and cosseting them. "So. sir," resumed the old man after a pause, Vand-by Mr. George became fond of Miss Dora. He nsod to follow her about and watch all her wishes, lie broke in a chestnut filly himself, and s"il to ride with her. But she seemed shy to him. Ha temper was so shifty, and she heard his curses when lie was bitterly angry, though ho didn’t how she was in hearing; and she seemed to s: rink from him. She was such a beauty—goldeu air, and eyes, sir, just like tho sky on a clear day, - eh a deep, clear blue, while her complexion tho vkiage girls used to call roses aud lilies. I’ve card It said that a great portrait painter camo wn to paint her face, and showed it iu London m ti e greatest beauty be bad seon anywhere. "Mrs. Linwood, sir, the servants could all see was very anxious about Mr. George. Sho’d mur mur to herself for hours about him, and she was s-|'ays looking at him and Dora so wistful like, as f she didn't dare to say what was on her tongue. So things went on, till one day a company of sol diers marched into the village. The officer in command was invited by Mr. Linwood to dine, ar ‘d he did so, but he didn’t see Mrs. Liuwood nor Miss Dora, for they were both in with colds, and they stayed up stairs. The officer was a handsomo young man, with keen gray eyes and a quiet man t»r, and a look of real honesty about him, sir. Mr. Linwood asked him to como when ho could get leave and shoot. "Well, by aud by ho camo—Captain Colton was STJPPLEMEITT. MACON, GEORGIA, MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1868. bis name, and he wore the Water'oo medal, for lie bad been in tho heat of that; and he came in late one night after dressing, into the drawing room. There were Mrs. Linwood and Miss Dora. The Squire introduced him; when suddenly the captain grew very and Miss Dora gave a little shriek, and then looked so charming that half an eye might see, Polly, my wife said, where her heart was. “The ’Squire didn’t see this, and fortunately too, for only the day before he’d asked Miss Dora to marry him, and she, crying bitterly, had refused. “Tho ’Squire went off wild duck shooting with me, but lie laid his gun down in the puut, and kept staring sternly in the air, and muttering to himself. You may guess, sir, that I held my tongue. “Well, sir, at dinner nothing much was said, for Capton Calton seemed very silent, and so did Miss Dora. The'Squire drank a good deal, and talked about the shooting, but now and then looked at his cousin with such a wild eager look that made her blush like a rose whenever he caught her eye. “After dinner, when Polly was putting some em broidery away in tho cabinet at the end of the drawing room, she heard Miss Dora tell Mrs. Lin wood enough to find out that Captain Calton was her old lover whom she had met at Bath with her parents, and that they were to be married when lie got rich enough. Polly could not help hearing it, sir; all women aro curious about lovers,” con tinued the old man, smiling; “but she loved Miss Dora with all her heart, and woudn’t have said a word about it for the world. “Several days went on, and the ’Squire and the Captain went out shooting, and Dick Smith, the headkeeper, used to go with them. "One day Miss Dora camo down in the little pony carriage with the luncheon. The Squire was just finishing the beat of a copse, but Captain Cal ton was outside. When Miss Dora came up be took her hand and kissed it. But I saw it, though I wasn’t such a booby as to show myself. What was worst, sir, tho Squire saw it through the hazel bushes, and her pretty face blushing and looking happy. “I heard him grind his teeth where I stood, and whisper a curse. Did you ever hear one whirpered, sir ? It’makes a man creep all over. “Presently he came out with a very jolly air, and after lunch ho drank Miss Dora's health and then the Captain’s. I was carrying the bag, aud the Squire spoke in a bluff sort of a way, so I heard all: “ ‘My cousin is a pretty girl,’ said he. “ ‘Yes,’ said Captain Calton, nervously like, and I could see his hand tremble. “ ‘Ah, well,’ said tho Squiro, heartil3 r , ‘I used to be jealous; fori always admired Dora, that I did. But what’s the use now? Nevermind, old fellow, I wish you joy of her ; you must excuse my temper, it’s a devilish bad one.’ “That was truer than ho thought,” muttered the old man musingly. “Captain Calton answered him in a very friendly way, and the matter seemed all right. “The Squire was in a dreadful temper the nex morning with Dick ar.d me because we hadn’t killed some stray dogs that had been driving the woods. “Ho was very savage against poachers, and swore he’d have the spring-guns set for their dogs in the open runs of the copses. “So matters went on till just about Christmas, when a large party of the neighbors of the Squire came over to shoot under the pheasant covers. “That day we had no peace. All tho spring guns were taken up; damaged raisins put in tho runs to toll tho pheasants there, and the woods were watched every night. On the night bolore we met the Squire, who gave us a curse or two for running against him as he came round the copse. He’d been looking after tho raisins, he said, for he was a good hand at seeing his orders carried out. “The next day all the party went from the Hall to tho woods, only the Captain; he loitered to havo a few words with Miss Dora, lie drew her back into the hall and kissed her; and I shall never forget the way she clasped his hands and looked into his eyes, saying a word or two. The Squiro saw it. and I saw his face. It was dreadful to see, for he had bitten his lower lip in two. He pre tended not to see them, and walked on after the party. "The Squire was very particular in his shooting parties about every oue going just as ho wanted them to. So now ho gave everybody their instruc tion whore to go. And Captain Calton he fold to take a ride, which was narrow and through hollies, but a good one for woodcocks. He himself weut Into the middle of the copse, with me, and Dick Smith headed the beaters at the end. “Well, sir, the beating began, and tho pheasants got up well, and there were several shots fired, "l’was odd to me that the Squire never shot at any thing, though, for all that, several birds went by him. I didn’t dare to speak, though, for lie look ed so stern. “By and by he turned and saw Captain Calton *in another part. He swore, but that I took no notice of. »* ‘We’!! beat this wood again beforo lunch,’ he said • so of course wo all came out after an hour or two, ’during which tho Squire missed everything. Wo all went back to the wood again.” Hero the old keeper paused, and drow a deep breath. “What’s coming, sir?” he said, “has never been out of my mind since, day or night, for fifty years, I assure you. “We camo back to the copse, and were all put iu our old position, and the Squiro told the Captain to take the holly ride again. “ T suppose Dora will be hero soon with the luncheon,’ he said with a laugh. “ ‘Soon enough—soon enough, said tho Squire, with a dreadful sort of laugh, and his black eyes gleaming like coals. ‘‘The shooting went on, and suddenly a shot sounded from near the holly ride. “ ‘What’s that ?’ said the Squire, suddenly. «‘Captain shot a cock, sir, outside the copse,’ and Dick Smith, quietly winking at me, knew how savage the Squire was at men changing positions. ‘Here comes Miss Dora,’ said I, ‘she's going through the holly ride.’ . . «‘What,’ screamed the Squire, as ho wheeled round and saw her. ‘Dora! Dora! not there! Back! for heaven’s sake, back!’ “But she didn’t bear him, for tho spaniels were in full cry, and the beaters' voices drowned the Squire’s. *• ‘Dora!’ he screamed, sir—yes, that’s the word —‘stop ? You’re , “Beforo he got the word out there was a little report like a pistol—a wreath of blue smoke curl ed upward from Miss Maitland’s feet, and she fell —fell, with her pretty white dress all streaked on the bosom with blood. “Ah, sir,” said the old man, shuddering, “it makes my heart cold even to think of it. “I ran up and lifted her; she moaned once when we raised her. Her sweet face was all white and pinched with pain. “But Captain Calton camo up, like a man struck dumb. He knelt down and drew her, poor girl, on his breast; and laid her poor head there as if she was a tired child. “The surgeon of the village was out with us. He came up sir, as we stood round rough fellows as we were, all sobbing; he knelt down and looked at the wound, and then, sir, shook his head. “Meanwhile tho ’Squire was being held by two men, cursing, swearing, and tearing the grass, and cursing himself and his birth, and calling on somebody to blow his brains out, and they dragged him into the bushes so as not to be heard by the dying girl. ‘ “She looked up at her lover once, and her sweet blue eyes were all dim. Do you know the glaz ing, filmy look that creeps over one dying from gunshot wounds? Ah, it is enough to break one’s heart. “She caught her breath several times. Her lover kept his handkerchief over the wound, but it did’nt bleed much outwardly; only you could see her going; and she looked so beautiful, just like a wax mask, sir, white as a lily.” “ ‘Poor, poor Freddy I’ she murmured, and put her little hand on his heart. “ - My darling 1’ he said, and then he gave such a sob that seemed to tear his very heart up, sir. “‘Kiss me, my own,’she saidas her beautiful, dimming eyes, with tlieir last look of love, were turned to his. ‘I can’t see—its all dark, but I’m on your bosom, Freddy, dear—on your bosom— love.” “These words she murmured one by one ; and then she gave a long sigh; and it was all over. “He took her up, sir, with such an awful look of grief on his face that he seemed turned to stone. He’d let no one touch her, and he carried her in his arms home. “ ‘She said she was on my bosom,’ he said, in a voice that you wouldn’t have known for his; and then he walked on like a man in some dream. ‘•Well, sir, there is no more to tell. The Squire only lived two years, and died in a mad house. “He had set a spring gun in the ride, meaning it for tho Captain. As for the Captain, he went to the East Indies, I heard, and died. That’s my story, sir.” —Once a Week. BARBER SHOP AND BATHING ROOMS. MICHAEL LOH, UNDER POST-OFFICE, Lanier House build ing, keeps a neat and tasty barber shop, lree Iroin any objectionable features, and at all tlme3 orderly, and supplied with every convenience, and skilful employees. His BATHING DEPARTMENT Is nicely arranged, and Baths of any kind .Are turnished. ©a-Terms reasonable, i auly4-tf HOTELS. BYINGTONS HOTEL, Opposite Pa3sengor Depot, MACON, - - GEORGIA HAVING fitted up this Hotel with an entire suit of NEW aud Elegant FURNITURE, the Proprietor assures his old patrons aud the public generally, that the ROOMS, THE TABLE and the BAR are Unsurpassed by any Hotel in the State. *3. A Free Omnibus will run for this Hotel. J. L. BYINGTON. Oct. 9-ts MARSHALL HOUSE. A. 3. LUCE, Proprietor. Broughton Street, BAVANNAH, ; : : : : GEORGIA rsiHIS house has been, recently, newly fitted up I with fine furniture; has plenty of efficient servants, and the bill ol fare cannot be surpassed In the city. , . , Kates reasonable and saUslac* lon guaranteed. ie3o-tf UNITED STATES HOTEL. SASSEEN, YORK A JORDAN, Proprietors, Within 100 yards of the General Passenger Depot, corner Alabama and Prior Streets, Atlanta, Ga. K. oAoticjlhri, B. W. YORK, K. T. JOURDAN, J W. F. Bryson, R. T. Joubdan, Clerks. Iy2B-tf DENSE’S PLANTERS’ HOTEL, OPPOSITE CARHART A CURD’S, NO. 58 CHERRY STREET, MACON, GEOUGIA. B. F. DENSE, Proprietor. apr!4-tf CC l Leaveth \ UNIVERSAL LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY, NEW YORK, OFFICE No. 69 LIBERTY ST. The Original Joint Stock Life Insurance Company ot tlie I'niiecl States. The Business of this Company is Exclusively confined to the Insurance of First-Class Healthy Lives. STATEMENT JULY 13, 1868. ASSETS: United States Stocks (market value) $109,250 00 Bonds and Mortgages (City of New York)... 97,000 00 Brooklyn City Bonds (market value) 25,187 50 Virginia State Bonds (market value) 14,700 00 Casn deposited in New York Guaranty and Indemnity Company (at interest) 45,000 00 Cash on hand and in Bank 10,182 00 Balance due by Agents (secured) 25,478 23 Office Furniture 5,235 22 Deferred semi-annual quarterly Premiums... 72.165 31 Premiums in course of Collection 66 664 64 Interest accrued, not due 4,640 67 Other Assets 3,819 21 Total $468,822 87 LIABILITIES: Amount required to reinsure out standing risks—Homan’s Table —5 per cent $243,200 Unpaid Losses, not due 15,00C —$258,200 00 Surplus over and above all Liabilities $210,422 87 Ratio of Assets to Liabilities, 181% to 100. Number of Policies in force 3,034 Insuring $7,926,810 Policies issued since January Ist, 1868 1,138 Insuring $2,713,250 THE UNIVERSAL Offers the following original and popular surance: Ist. Th* Rmubn Primium Plan: Upon which uoli cies are issued at rates less than those charged by Mutual Companies, guaranteeing the return of ail premiums paid, in addition to the amount insured. 2d. Thk Reduction or Premium Plan: By which poli cies are issued at rates lees than those charged by Mutual Companies, guaranteeing a reduction of 50 per cent, of the premium after the third annual payment. OFFICERS: WILLIAM WALKER President HENRY J. FURBER Vice President JOHN H. BEWLEY Secretary CHARLES E. PEASE Assistant Secretary D. PARKS FACKLER Consulting Actuary EDWARD W. LAMBERT, M. D Medical Examiner ALEXANDER & GREEN Solicitors s®,Agents Wanted throughout the South. Address J. W. SHACKLEFORD, Manager Southern Department, Atlanta, Georgia. J. W. BURKE, Agent for Macon and Southwestern Georgia. oc6-8m PLANCHETTE, SCIENTIFICALLY CONSTRUCTED. rriHE theory of Planchette Is, that It gathers the 1_ magnetism, or electricity, generated by those who place their fingers thereon. This, when suf ficient, gives an automatic motion to the instru ment aud pencil. The improvements consist— -Ist. In the Interposition of an Insulating ma terial or compound between the wooden tablet aud castors, which prevents the transmission ol the magnetism to the table on which the Plan chette rests, thus charging the instrument in the shortest possible time. 2d. Iu the construction of the stylus which car ries the pencil, giving greater ease aud smooth ness of motion. 3d. The construction of the castors, reducing the friction to the least possible degree, while the wheel is from one-third to one-half larger than In any other Planchette made, so that the instru ment will obey the lightest impulse. Planchette has sometimes been wayward, and would not respond to the touch. The cause of this has been its imperfect arrangement, manu-_ facturers paying but little if any attention to its* philosophical or mechanical construction. To those who have hitherto been disappointed we would sav, buy ours. In Its construction have been fullfilled all the philosophical conditions necessary to make it a success, while those be yond the pale of science we have not disturbed. This little instrument Is a source of never fail ing amusement—to the philosopher who specu lates on the soul of things; tho mystic who wishes to unveil futurity; and the doubter who is desirous of being satisfied that there are more things in heaven aud earth than his philosophy has dreamed of. Childhood, youth, and age are alike attracted by Its marvelous movements. Every family should have one, and that one should be of the kind we offer, for they are not only the most per fect Planchette in the market, but a much finer article for the money than any other ofiered tor sale. Price $1.50. For sale by J. W. BURKE A CO., au g 22 Macon, Ga. ON THE HEIGHTS; A NOVEL: BY BERTHOLD AUERBACH. ON THE HEIGHTS has been pronounced by competent critics the finest German Novel since Goethe’s “Wilhelm Meister.” In one volume. Price $2.00. J, W. BURKE A CO. Crandall’s Building Blocks. NEW SUPPLY OF THE VARIOUS SIZES Just received by _ seplS-tf J. W. BURK 8 4 00.