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I ESTABLISHED 1850. )
j J. H. ESTILL, Editor and Proprietor.)
lightening the burden.
“Let me carry your pail, my dear,
Brimming ovor with water*”
“No! I'll take hold, and you take hold,”
Answered the farmer’s daughter.
And she would have her own sweet way
As her nYferry eyes grew brighter;
go she took hold, and he took hold.
And it made the burden lighter.
And every day the oaken pail
Over the well-curb slipping,
Was upward drawn by hands of brawn,
Cool, and so softly dripping.
And everv day the burden seemed
Lighter by being divided;
For he took hold, and she took hold,
By the self-same spirit guided.
Till by and bye they learned to love
And each trust in the other,
Till she for him, one twilight dltn,
Left father and left mother.
The wedding bells were rung at morn,
The bridalblessings given,
And now the pair, without a care,
Entered an earthly heaven.
When storm and sunshine mingled, they
Would seldom trouble borrow-,
And when it came, they met the same
With a bright hope of to-morrow.
And now they’re at the eve of life.
While the Western skies grow brighter,
For she took hold, and he took hold,
And it made the burden lighter.
—M. A. Kidder.
JACK AND .TILL
BY ELIZABETH PHIPPS TRAIN.
* t Copyrighted , 1887.]
Considering how unamiable Mr. Rood’s
disposition was, it is certainly wonderful
that he was not put in very bad humor by
the announcement that two small atoms of
humanity, ushered into the world together,
would henceforth claim his paternal care.
Asa matter of fact they had more right to
complain than he had, for his demoralizing
love of strong drink had brought it about
that the twins first saw the light aud amid
the squalor of a tenement in Salvation alley
instead of in a comfortable home. But men
like Mr. Rood are not apt to think of it in
such a fashion. However, it is to his credit
that he smiled instead of frowning, and
contemplated the infants with no more se
rious complaint thau that he “could’t tell
’em apart” —and indeed their similarity was
remarkable, even at that early stage in their
development. Mr. Rood also acceeded to
his w-ife’s request that they should be called
John and Joan, only suggesting that they
should be nicknamed Jack and Jill, which
would have happened anyway. And the
children thus designated grew and flourished
physically, even in the blighted pasturage
of Salvation alley, a lucus a non, probably
indicating that the place could not by any
possibillity be redeemed.
Jack and Jill were marvelously alike in
feature, hut in mind no lass wonderfully di
vergent.
Tiie girl was clever, shrewd and energetic,
seeming to have absorbed all the bright
characteristics of their curious duality;
while the bov was correspondingly dull,
weak and idle. After the death of their
father, which occurred when they were IS
fears old, Jill became the mainstay of the
house, cheering and strengthening "her fret
ful, inefficient mother, earning many and va
rious sums at different source which were of
■onsiderable value in eking out the scanty liv
ing which Mrs. Rood derived from fine
needlework; and, in fact, by dint of hard
labor and determination fairly running the
domestic machine. She was rather a cu
rious child; fond of her mother in a per
functory sortof way, it was upon her brother
Jack that she lavished all the love of which
her ardent, passionate littlelicart was capa
ble. She. so quick-sighted to things in gen
eral. was totally blind to his shortcomings;
so clever and shrewd herself, she seemed to
have no perception of his lack of these
quantities. He was simply perfect in her
sves. and if the work, of which he de-
I’lared himself unceasingly in search,
eluded his grasp, it was not that lie did not
exert himself to procure it. “Oh, no! poor
fellow! luck was so dead against him.”
Jack and Jill.
the twins reached the age of 14,
Mrs. Rood, perhaps weary herself of the
continual fretting and complaining which
were so trying to Jill, concluded that life iu
'iji was n °b worth living, and, like him of
o and. gathered her feet up into her lied and
died, leaving the two children utterly de
pendent upon Jill’s small earnings for sup
port. Her death seemed to awaken Jack’s
languid, slow-working brain to a realizing
sense of bis own incompeteney, and one
toy when Jill returned, weary and worn
With hard work, he met her with a bright
smile on his somewhat vacuous counten
ance.
''• Sa y. Jill,” he exclaimed, triumphantly,
IjCf* job!’
hat!' she cried, incredulously.
„ Yes; true an’ honest.”
where, where, Jack ?” she asked in a tone
m which wonder, Pleasure and apprehension
were mingled. Her earnestness and eager
ness seemed even to his dull perception
rattier disproportionate to the value of his
answer, and ne sought to reduce them a lit
lle > n a shamefaced way.
Jill, I don't know’s it’s worth
„. n . sllf 'h a row ’bout, ’taint nothin’
p'eat I s’pose I mighter got somethin’
nough sight better ’f I’d only waited. I
know I'm fit for a better show”
ii cours<? you are. Lo’rl I guess yer
in" I ’*? mos b anythin’ yer set yer hand to,
if yer only got tn’ chance,” the girl
replied unhesitatingly, with a conviction
her utter faith and pride in the
qualities with which her love endowed him;
"V > yer sesi, my dear, they ain't never had
“ chance ter know yer. Now they've found
“w t . l yer all right- Where is itf’
well, ’taint only down on one o’ th’
uarves. They want a boy to do errands
mi kinder make hisself useful; they’ll give
me adollor’n* a half a week."
Why, Jaeky, that's splended!” she cried,
.. "'ft calculation in which she had become
"’ugh long practice rarely proficient en
. ,!*g her to see the vast importance the
d'tion of this regular sum would bo to
income.
1 uint much as you get, Jill.”
I 1 '■''tby near,” shosaid.aeprecatinglv, feel
k , ! an ‘‘*l 111 ‘J uncomfortable in the
n,. "'i 1 ," Ike that she, so greatly his inferior,
l “ u ''l '’am the larger wages. “(Kaxlnoa*!
shouldn’t wonder if whoa they see how |
ffhe JUflfning ffetoji.
smart you are they raise your pay right
They didn’t do this, however; but it was
something that he kept his place—more, in
deed, than their neighbors in the alley, who
knew the boy’s thriftless, vagrant Ways,
expected. These neighbors were generous
enough to give him all the credit he de
served, anil with these gossipings they min
gled th“ suspicion that poor little Jill had
worked too hard and too well for her own
physical good.
It was a fact, indeed, but a fact for which
there seemed no remedy. Many* peoplo who
were interested in the hard-working young
creature noticed, as the languorous spring
deepened, that she looked terribly thin ana
delicate; that her face was losing its round
ness and freshness, and gaining angles and
premature lines of anxiety and despon
dency. A heavy listlessness, impossible to
shake off, was slowly creeping over her,
making everything she did seem an effort,
and paralyzing her energies.
The winter had been a hard one, with the
expenses incurred by her mother’s death, and
burial added to those of their everyday life,
aud close, pinching economy had been neces
sary to make “both ends meet,” and vet.
ever and always, Jack was her first
thought. Her own hunger, bitter and mis
erable as it was to the hearty appetite of her
age, was yet endurable if he did not suffer,
and her pitifully slender proportions gave
abundant testimony to the fact that this
semi-starvation was no infrequent thing
with her; then, too, fuel was high, and
warm clothing almost unattainable, and the
toughening method of habitual exposure,
did uot seem to work very successfully in
her ease. She grew impatient with herself
that she should not bear the harsh winds
without becoming a victim to a cough that
racked her slight, painfully fragile figure so
terribly that it left her weak and exhausted
from its violence.
Sometimes, indeed, as she lay panting and
wakeful after one of these paroxysms, the
thought of death occurred to her. ‘ What if
she were to die and leave Jack alone in the
world to battle for himself! She put the
thought resolutely from her. It seemed
simply impossible that God should allow
such selfish shirking of her duties. She
had an idea of heaven—this child who had
surely seen little of its reflection upon earth.
It was a curious and original idea that she
had never divulged to any one, not even to
Jack.
Her heaven was a great, beautiful field,
where the grass was ever fresh and green;
where lovely flowers, su-has she sawon street
corners and in shop windows, grew in lux
uriant profusion; and the air. always mild
and gentle, was sweet with the exquisite
odors of the fair blossoms and musical with
the melody of birds. No miserable, stuffy
houses were there, but every one lived out
of doors—as we say—and, on a great
throne, built high and wide of choicest flow
ers, sat and ruled the great King. No suf
fering, no hunger or thirst, no cold nor
heat there disturbed any one—all was per
fect joy and happiness. “ Often in her fitful
slumbers she would dream that she was al
ready there, and the wretched reality
of actual life would be tampered for a
time by the memory of hel- vision.
The change in her appearance, gradual
though it was, finally became perceptible to
even Jack’s obtuseness, and an incident
that happened one day (mused him for
awhile a perfect panic of fear. He was de
tained at his work one afternoon somewhat
later than usual, and on entering the poor
room, which served in so many capacities,
he was surprised to find it dark and de
serted. He wondered greatly, for gener
ally at this hour Jill was flashing about
making her preparations for their simple
evening meal. Solely perplexed, he closed
the door and moved slowly through the ob
scurity to light the small lamp, feeling a de
sire for even its friendly company. Sud
denly he paused abruptly, for his feet had
come into contact with a soft object lying
upon the floor. Stopping to discover its
identity, he became aware that it was the
figure of a woman.
“Come brick , Jill P
With a terrible agony of apprehension
gnawing at his breast he quickly struck a
match and lighted the lamp. The mellow
flickering flame disclosed a pitiful sight.
Stretched oil the floor, motionless and still,
lay .Till, her outstretched arms thrown above
her head, a-s though they had fallen so in
avain attempt to save herself. Along the
dark, hard boards of the rough, uneven
flooring shone two long braids of flaxen
hair, and in the thin, wan face, so white and
calm, no ray of life disturbed (he placid re
pose; even its weariness and fatigue had dis
appeared under the touch of insensibility,
and only the deep hollows and sad line about
the young mouth and closed eye - bespoke
the suffering that hail hrough. Uio brave,
womanly girl to this pitiful pass.
P or little Jill and poor little Jack! As
he watched the rigid unconsciousness of the
ill-clad, girlish figure a fearful thought
struck him. Hhe was dead! She, his sister,
comforter, friend and protector, lying there
before him, was dead! It could be nothing
else. He had seen death twice, and there
could he nothing else. lie had seen death
twice, and there could Ihi no mistaking its
grim significance. An awful sense of de
spair and desolation stole over him. Losing
Ins fear of the dread visitor in the necessity
of convincing himself of the reality of its
presence, lie stretched forth a small, dirty
hand, and touched gently the familiar yet
strange features. Their chill sent a sharp
pang to his soul.
“Jill! Jill!” he cried aloud. “Where are
you, Jillf Comeback. Don’t leave me. I
don’t know wlmt I’ll do alone.”
No response from the quiet lips; no flicker
on the unresponsive features: only and ever
that still, utter calm. Yielding to the lone
liness that possessed him, he drew himself
close to the prostrate figure, threw his arms
despairingly about it und burst into a fit of
bitting weeping. The hot team falling in
quiek showers upon the upturned face ap
peared to .Tack to have wrought a miracle.
Slowly the eyes unclosed and a tremor
moved the weak form; then, as the lad
gazed in almost terrified liewilderment at
the awakening face, the lijj* moved and
shaped his name.
Ever since that dreadful flay Jack had
treated his sister with a peculiar, wistful
tenderness, following liar about, during; his
hours of leisure like her shallow, waiting
upon her. sparing her strength in many
ways, and touching her loving heart to its
depths by his sitent devotion. She hail tried
to explain her swoon in a jesting way, but
the boy's slow wits were yet nimble enough
to penetrate the disguise of mockery, though
not sufficiently acute to divine a
remedy for the evil. Hoeing his
anxiety, Jill reproached herself for hav
ing caused it and took simple means to
prevent its receiving fresh imiwtus. Now,
SAVANNAH, GA„ SUNDAY, MAY 15, 1887-TWELVE PAGES.
when she returned from work she was care
ful to lock the door, lest, perchance, weak
ness should again overtake her.
She was sitting late one afternoon with
listlessly folded hands, resting awhile in the
chair, into which she had dropped from
sheer exhaustion on his entrance, trying to
gain a little strength before assuming the
mask of cheerfulness with which she al
ways greeted Jack’s home-coming, when she
heai'd his steps hurriedly mounting the
stairs, and before she could reach the door it
was rudely shaken by tiie tierce onslaught of
his fists.
“Jill, Jill!” he gasped, breathlessly, “open
quick, quick an’ let me in, girl.”
Bhe threw open the door, and as she did
so a figure with a pale, terrified face and
trembling, quivering features rushed past
her and entered the room beyond, panting.
“Lock it again, Jill, quick! They’ll be in
after me if yer don’t hurry.”
She hastily obeyed his command, and
then, with a heavy dull fear of she knew
not what, followed him into the next room.
At first she did not see him, then from
among some torn and ragged garments
hanging upon the wail appeared a boyish
face from which all brightness and youth
had fled and left it haggard, ghastly and
guilt-laden. Could this be Jack, the care
less, irresponsible lad to whom fear had ever
been a stranger—this panic-stricken, quiv
ering creature, hiding from even the
shadow of his imagination] In a moment
his need had restored Jill’s strength; ignor
ant, yet apprehension of the cause of his
terror, she approached him, cast aside the
miserable draperies, laid her slim young arm
tenderly about his neck with a gesture of
protection, and, looking pityingly into the
shrinking blue eyes said, reassuringly:
"Jackv, my dear, what is itf’
He gazed nervously, timidly about, and
she divined his fear and hushed it.
“Don't be afraid, dear, ther ain’t no
one here but us. Don’t be scared; I’ll help
3 - er, whatever you done.”
Thus comforted the lad bent, his head—the
head so like her own—close to her and
whispered a few scarcely audible words in
her ear. As he did so a horrible pallor, like
that he had seen on it once before, whit
ened the gil l’s face even to the very lips. A
new agony assailed him—what if she were
to die again, and this time he should fail to
reawaken her?
“Jill,” he cried, his voice broken by weep
ing, “don’t look like that. “Oh, Jill, I done
it for you! See—”
She recoiled hastily and involuntarily as
he held forth Ins hand, and opening its
fingers disclosed a roll of crumpled, dirty
bills; then, seeing the effect her horror
was having upon him, gathered to
gether all her strength and with only one
passing shiver of repulsion stretched out her
hand and took from him the price of his sin
as one would grasp a quantity of sharp
knife blades; then, summoning a beautiful
smile to her quivering features, she leaned
forward and kissed tenderly the colorless,
trembling lips, saying:
“Jacky, you done an awful thing, my
dear; but never you fret, we’ll make things
all right again.”
Jill’s plan was not allowed to mature, for,
earlier than she had expected, Jack’s theft
was discovered. He did not go out the n“xt
morning, but about 10 o’clock there came
the sound of a strange, heavy footstep upon
the stairs of the poor tenement in Salvation
alley; aloud, peremptory knock shook the
frail door, and a coarse but not unkindly
voice demanded John or Jack Rood.
A pale, awkward lad responded to his
call, and without remonstrance or hesita
tion, save for a moment granted by the of
ficer, which in sight of the latter was spent
in a passionate leave-taking of a slender
girl who sat weeping violently at a little
distance, the boy accompanied his conduc
tor to the police headquarters. Arrived
there, the young prisoner, with a gentle
ness and candor that immediately vvon him
favor, confessed bis crime and restored the
money. His confession was made with a
rough eloquence that moved even the stolid
officers of justice.
"Yer see, sir,” he said, “Jill an’ me we's
left all alone in th’ ally. Mother she died in
th’ winter an" I wam’t ever very fortunate.
I alius was a meanin’ to do somethin’, but I
didn’t hev no luck till lately. Jill, she was
my twin and ‘twas all along o’ her I stole
th’ money. I don’t mean ter sav as she was
a-knowin’ of it, 'cause she warn't and would
up hindered me. She was niltis a-lookin’
out fur me, Jill was, and Id done th’ same
fur her if she’d a-needed it. She was alius
a big strong girl an’ more abler sort o’ than
me.”
The tears filled the lad's eyes here and in a
broken, quavering tone, he added, softly:
“I’ve kinder thought to myself lately that.
I ain't quite all right here”—tapping his
forehead —“I seem ter be sorter weak-like
an’ I don't think I could get ’long very well
'thoiit Jill. Oh, gentlemen, don’t some o’
yer know o’ somethin’ ter give Jill to make
her what she used to be? What'll I do
’thoufcJill? T can't lookout fur myself, 1
ain’t able, an 1 Jill, she’s alius took care o’
nip, but lately she grew so weak'n’ miser’blr,
so sufferin’-like, that I got kinder desp’rate.
I couldn't see her a-pinin' away for want o’
somethin’ ter eat. Have yer ever been real
hungry, gentlemen?”
The sad, blue eyes scanned the buxom,
well-fed, comfortable-looking men as he
made the inquiry and shamed them into
guilty consciousness of the difference be
tween their goodly proportion* and the
slender, attenuated fra me‘lief ore them.
“I mean real, starvin’, gnawin’ hungry,
as if somethin’ was a-bitln' at yer inside ah’
yer couldn't shake itoff? Well, I guess Jill’s
felt that- way sometimes air kinder cold an’
shiv’ry like, too. Yer see, gentlemen, I
loves her so that whn 1 thought thut. may
-I>e she was sti fferin’ that way made me kinder
crazy, an’ when yesterday I sees them hills
a-lym’ careless on tIT desk an’ no one ’round,
an’ thought how many things they’d buy
Jill, p’raps life even, then I couldn't stand
it an’ up an’ takes 'em. It were all fur her
I done it. I’d a died sooner nor done it fur
myself."
The sentence.
The next morning the lad, looking terri
bly wan and white, was taken to the court
house and summoned before the Judge. The
huge room was close and noxious with the
swarm of curious idlers who, for lack of
other employment, flock to such places—
and as the boy was led to the dock a shud
der of repulsion and disgust convulsed him.
For a moment his strength failed, he
dropped and clutched at the officer for sup
port. then he roused hitus'lf, drew his slight
figure erect, threw back his head and con
fronted the Judge, Whqae usually stern face
softened a little a< his eyes rested u|>on the
young criminal. He was of a type n differ
ent from his fellow-prisoners that the elo
quence of his delicate, suffering fare ap
pealed to the man's good heart.. The rougli
woven suit of coarse, gray doth hung loose
ly upon the fragile, si nil frame: there wm a
mute pathos gazing from out the sad eyes,
b nt so wistfully upon the Judge: and a tar
rible evidence of misery in the shrunken,
pallid features.
“I’d niver a thou't a bve could change
loike that in a few hours, Airs, Main, dear,”
said a woman among the spectators to her
neighbor. “Indade, I'd hardly know ’twas
Jack Rood, begorra!”
The woman she addressed was intently
scrutinizing the partial view of the pris
oner’s face which was all that she could ob
tain from her seat. Suddenly the lad
turned a swift glance uj>on the assemblage
and she started violently. Leaning toward
her companion she whisperod a few words
in her ear. The other gave a grunt, of in
credulity and then looked attentively at the
dock; after which she exclaimed in o’ tone of
amusement and awe:
‘■Both’ powei-s, ye're right! Th’ saints
hilp th’ poor ehoild!”
She stopped for the Judge was speaking.
“What is your name!”
“John Rood.”
There was a peculiar slur upon the first
name that led the Judge to conclude that the
lad was of foreign birth.
“Are you of American parentage!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is this your first offense f"
“It is.”
“You have, I am told, confessed your
theft from your employer and restored the
money. The court, therefore, taking into
consideration your youth and the fact that
this is your first offense, commits you to de
tention in the House of Correction for 30
days. What!”
It was no word—that inarticulate sound—
nor was it a moan. It was simply un effort
to suppress the ruddy stream 'that came
welling up from a child's weary and broken
heart. An indistinguishable murmur from
the white lips, a swaying of the delicate
frame; then a fall and a confusion of voices,
above and surmounting which came a cry
of anguish from someone in the crowd —so
sliarp that it smote even the most hardened
breast in the great room; a rushing sound
and pushing aSide of intervening liorlies.
What was this that came tearing and fight
ing its way through the mass! A queer
figure, clad in dingy, girl’s draperies, a
rough, tear-stained face, surrounded by
short, fair hair, working in a convulsion of
fear and grief; a harsh, broken, lad’s voice,
crying aloud in agony:
“Jill! Jill! Let mo to her—l will get to her
—she's my sister. Oh, Jill, you said ’twould
all come right. Jill! She is dead; I have
killed her r
A hush of expectany and wonder fell upon
the court. Involuntarily the human mass
parted to make way for the insistence of
that st -uggling, sobbing figure, so uncouth
in its strange dress. In n moment it hut
reached the dock (where already the kindly
officer hail raised the fallen body in his
arms), and with a prat-’-ting, awkward,
jealous movement, awl thrown its arms
about the unconscious form, gathered it to
its breast, and peered wildly into the still
face.
“Jill, Jill! Oh. come back, come back
again! She is not realiy dead, is she, sir!”
turning to the officer. “She done tins be
fore;'taint nothin’, is it! See, she's coinin'
alive now!”
“And, indeed, the eyes were slowly un
closing. A moment the lids were stretched
wide and two pair of blue eyes held each
other in a steady gaze—then (me seemed to
grow gradually dim; the lips moved gently
and a whisper came from them.
“.lucky, Kiss me, dear. Don’t-say-nothin’-
to-nobody.”
A soft, short sigh, a tender smile, and lit
tle Jill had gone to the flowery kingdom of
which she had so often dreamed.
A pause, during whinh an intense silence
filled the room, then a mighty cry in a
cracked, boyish treble.
“She's tone —Jill's gone.—an' 1 kills'! her—
I let her done it. She said ’twouldn’t do no
harm an’ she could get free—an’ she never
tole me a lie—did you J ill!”
There was scarcely a dry eye in the place
as two officers passed through the ranks
bearing in their arms two figures so closely
alike that even in the two powers that held
1 hem, death and his twin Brother, insensi
bility, there was not greater resemblance.
NOT AN EXCEPTIONAL CASE.
Southern Merchants in Many Cases At
tempt to Settle Ante-War Debts.
From the Few York Evening Sun,
“There is nothing remarkable in the story
that is told of the paying over to Daniel
Hand, of Connecticut, of fyoo.tlfio by his
former partner, George W. Williams, of
Charleston, except the amount so paid,”
said a lawyer. “Mr. Hand at the outbreak
of the war cam? North, leaving his pron
erty in the charge of Williams, to save It
from confiscation. Since the war Mr.
Williams has turned over to his old partner
the property and the amount it earned,
1*700,000 in all. Yet there are many New
York merchants who have had equal or
greater proof of the business
honor and integrity of many South
ern merchants with whom they
dealt before the war. All debts to Northern
men were confiscated by the Confederate
government, and through poverty, bank
ruptcy and stutnto.-y limitations many mer
chants were absolved from payment. Yet
1 know of many ea**s where they have made
their debts good. On.- ! recall is that of a
New York firm now extinct, which did a
large blank book business in the South.
Some years ago I received a letter from my
Ooorgia correspondents asking mo to ar
range for a settlement with that firm on ac
count of clients of my corres’xmdent. I
found the firm had gone out of business,
the partners were dead, but I was urged to
hunt up the heirs. I did so, and the Geor
gia merchant sent in 50 par cent, of the
amount of the debt, which was the best
they could then do, and promoted to remit
the whole sum with interest in time. Tills
was twenty-four years after the debt was
incurred. 1 know of a similar payment
made to a Ann of carriage mak-rs, and I
have heard of a Mobile firm which has Ix-en
vainly looking for the heirs of a New York
merchant to pay a considerable sum for in
debtedness Incurred before the war. There
are many New York merchants, and I think
business men elsewhere, who have had the
same experience, it is my belief that the
majority of Southern merchant* who we; e
able to resume business, and who hod a
reputation for business integrity Wore the
war, have male efforts to pay Northern
creditor* some or all of the indebtedness in
curred prior to 1801.”
St. Louis' Invitation to the President.
From the St. I/min FontDitpatch.
The binding of the mammoth invitation
to the President and Mrs. Cleveland to at
tend the Encampment of the (Irund Army
ha* been under way for several week* now,
and is almost completed. It will bear a
picture of the big bridge in the centre, and
in the lower right-hand comer a copy of the
seal of the city of Ht. Louis. All tills will
bo carved in relief on hard wood. The
back of the volume will have carved on it
a picture of the court house. Tho inside of
the covers will be padded and covered with
satlu. The binding, it is expected, will be
completed on Wednesday noxt. On tho
Haturday evening following the delegation
amsiinted by the Mayor will take It in
charge and hear It to Washington. It will
b<“ presented to the President on Monday,
May 10. hv the delegation, headed proliably
by Mayor Francis and eacorted by Senator
Veet.
Miss Minnie Brown, of Ilka, N. Y., ban
brought suit against the Knight* of tabor of
that town for damages at the rate of .*M a
month for time lost while on a strike order**) by
them.
A MOUNTAIN &ULLY
Who Turned Out to Be One of the
Bravest of the Brave.
From the Knoxville Sentinel.
A few years ago there died in a mountain
county in East Tennessee a man who was a
noted bully. Ho was a splendid specimen
of physical manhood, and was in every re
spect a fighting bully. He would fight at
the drop of a hat, and could knock out a
half dozen ordinary meu in one round. He
would light for the fun of it, and he who
would dare cross his path was
indeed a reckless man. In the
old days of State militia and
“muster” he was a prominent man in the
neighborhood and colonel of a militia regi
ment-. On muster days, when the drill wits
over, he would proceed to clean up the regi
ment. When he shed his coat, twisted his
huge fist around a few times and yelled at
the top of his voice: “Hide out-, little uns,
I’m a comini” there would be a general
stampede. This was how he came to be
called “Old Hide Out” in after years.
When the late war came on he joined one
of the Confederate regiments and made a
brave, tearless soldier. During a slight
skirmish his company hod with the Federal*
down in Georgia he took his gun by the
muzzle, and, with his old time watchword,
“Hide out, little uns, I’m oomit'cr!” rushed
into the midst of the Federal soldiers, put
ting them to flight; not, however, without
receiving a serious wound in the head, which
put him into the hospital for months and
permanently Injured his mind.
When he returned to bus native country
ho was not the fearless bully of old, but a
much-broken, stoop-shouldered and crazy
old mail. He would stroll through the
neighborhood aimlessly and seemingly un
conscious of his whereabouts, always mut
tering to himself as he went : “Hide out,
iittle uns, I'm a reining.” Little boys ana
girls would make sport- of him, and “Old
Hide,” as they called him, paid no heed to
their mockery. He had become perfectly
harmless.
At last the old man became mortally ill.
He was a! no in a little cabin provided for
his use by an old comrade in the army A
few friends wiio had known him in his
better days gathered around his humble
couch expecting the end. It was now late
in ttyj afternoon, and the old fellow had not
spoken for days. He was rapidly sinking,
and someone remarked that lie would go
down with the sun, which was then pouring
its last rays through the chinks and crevices
ol the cabin wall. Just then his face seemed
to lighten up, his eyes twinkled, and he
opened his lips:
“Hide out, little ’uns, I'm a com ”
But he never completed his sentence. He
had gone.
HERE HE IS AGAIN.
More Proof That the Sea Serpent in
Visiting the Pacific Coast.
From the Uiatreide Enterprise.
Jacob Liebig- resides about ten miles to
the southward of Riverside, and for several
years has been making permanent improve
ments on a tract of land which he has
brought to an excellent degree of cultivation.
A few days ago he had occasion to ascend
an elevated ridge adjoining his ranch, which
commands a somewhat extended view in
the direction of Los Angelos. He was
accompanied by bis nephew They were
looking for some lost cattle and tiad taken u
powerful field glass with them While
closely inspecting the valley beneath their
attention was attracted by a strange move
ment in a sand dune at the foot of a cliff.
In ft few momenta they began to realize
that a vast python had camped there for
the night, and was lieginning to unwind
himself for another day travel. The snake
by estimate was about 130 feet long, with a
head something the shape of a huge beer
cask. Its body was covered with scales, any
one of which would make a splendid roof
for an ordinary dwelling. Its eyes were
fiery, and resembled the head light of u
locomotive Men at a considerable distance.
Mr. Liebig became somewhat excited, and,
loading his shotgun, tired four times at the
loathsome monster. Borne of tiie shot must
have taken effect, for the serpent raised his
head about do feet in the air and bellowed
hideously, opening his mouth very wide.
The view of the interior of his mouth was
appalling. It, was like looking into a great
tunnel lighted by slumbering volcanic fins.
Mr. Liebig and bis nephew took to their
heels, and never stopped until they reached
Riverside. No one doubts their story in the
least, and it is generally believed that this is
the great sou serpent which was swimming
around Hanta Monica a few days ago. The
snake probably started for Los Angeles, but
hearing that the smnll]sx was getting to lie
pretty tied, he altered his course and pushed
inland. The fact, that Mr. Liebig and his
nephew had been on ft spree for a week, and
had yvn quite a number of other strange
objects, in no wise detracts from the merits
of their storv. Mr, Liebig is the gentlemen
who some time ago endeavored to enlist
local capital in a project to crown Mount
Baldy with an immoral orange grove, to te
irrigated with salt water. If anybody els"
sees the snake prompt information should be
stmt to this office.
VON MOLTKE’S SCOTCH BLOOD.
The Great German General Descended
thorn the Highlanders.
fYom the fieoteman.
The Macgillonie* of Strone acted against
the interests of their chief, Lochlel, and se
cured the favor of the Lord of the Isle, for
the names of their lands are not in the char
ter that was given to John Garvo for the
other places in Lochaber. On one occ-qg
sion, when the Macl<aans were defeated, the
young widow of one of them tied with her
child to Htrone, and placed him under the
protection of the Macgilionies, who acted a
most friendly part to nim, anrl reared him
carefully until in the course of time he was
restored to his kinsmen. He became a stal
wart man in the course of years, and was
known ns John of Lochaber, lain Abrach,
which term continued as the patronymic of
the lairds of Coll until they ceased to exist
as such.
Count Von Moltke is the direct descen
dant of this child so kindly sheltered in
Strone: in fact, he is a Mac Loan of the
house of Mar lain Abrach, his grandfather
having been a son of one of the lairds of
Coll. The grandfather and one of his
brothers went as young men to Copen
hagen, where they were succesfful in push
ing on to good positions, amt the Count has
proved true to the warlike proclivities of
fus race. The Count is not the only distin
guished son of lain Abrach whose name has
mien known to this generation, for the late
Hobart Pasha was a great-grandson of the
laird of Coll, whose daughter was married
to the Earl of Buckinghamshire. The
present exoellet chief of the clan Camarora—
the late M. P. for Invernesshire— is also the
great-grandson of this dew -endent of the an
cient foe of his house, through his mother,
Lady Vere Hobart: und among the others
we may mention the name of Commander
Cameron of African fame, who U the great
grandson of a |lady of the house of Coll.
This lady's husband was the son of Dr.
Archiiiam Cameron, tlie brother of the gen-,
tie Lochie! of the '45, and their s,m Hector,
the grandfather of C* immander Cameron,
was born in Oban. This Hector was a dis
thrgwiiKt soldi or- and was Mayor of Paris
during the occupation of the allies after the
rapture of Nnuolwm Bonaparte.
MILK.
A New Style of Package!
Tii order to meet the wants of the public the manufac
turers have placed upon the market a smaller can of the cele
brated Highland Milk, known as
BABY SIZE, 1
Which Sells at 10 Cents a Can.
In hot weather some difficulty may be experienced in keep
ing the milk after can is opened, therefore it would be wajjjL
that the public should
(now low lii Keep Higlitajid Mil
The Highland Milk is simply milk, without a preservation
after can is opened, and must be used as quickly as
boiled milk
The mode of keeping the same is in as cool and cleaaM
place as possible. Under all circumstances it must be pIH
tected from dust and sunshine, and should never be stirnH
except with a dry clean spoon.
If Ifjilil It is Mml|
For Table Use It Is Preferable te Sugared Milk
On account of its fine, natural flavor, to which any degree of
sweetness may be imparted by addition of sugar. To fresh
inilk, because it is reliably pure and free from all germs oi
disease often contained in same.
As An Infants’ Food
It is far superior to sugared milk, according to best authori
ties, since it is producing bones and muscles, which will re
sist, sickness much better than the fat produced by the su
gared milk.
A Can Should Be Used the Same
Day It Is Opened,
As it can be applied to various uses, not only as an addition
to Coffee, Tea or Chocolate, or as a food for infants, hut dis
solved either its a beverage or for all purposes of liquid milk.
FOR SALE BY ALL GROCERS.
S. Mill & Si,
STATE AGENTS, • j
SAVANNAH, GEOIIGI A~
EDUCATIONAL.
The Park Collegiate School.
(Family and day) for a limited number of Boy*,
83 EAST 59th STREET, NEW YORK CITY.
(Near Central Park.)
This School prepare* for College, Sdentiflo
Schools and Bailnese; Is progressive and thor
ough, employing only expetiencud teaeber*, and
the appointment* are excellent. In addition me
chanical Instruction aud practice arc given in
Drawing. Free Hand .-.nd Mechanical and Indus
trial Hand-work Circular* or other Information
mav be received by addressing the Principal.
ELMER K. PHILLIPS, M. A.
PENNYROYAL 1M1.1.5.
-CHICHESTER’S ENGLISH.”
The Original and Only Oeniiine.
Safe and always Reliable. Beware of worthless
Imitations. Indispensable to LADIES. Ask
your DruagLt for "Cldehester's KngH*h" and
take no other, or inclose 4c. (stamp) te u* for
particular* m Irttn by return mall. ,\4>IK
1* vI'HK. Milt healer Chemical Cos.,
3313 Matllnoit Square, Phllada, Pa.
cold by DrugaUla everywhere. Ask lor “CM
rbrder i Logltsli” Pennyroyal Pills. Toko
no other.
I PRICE AlO A YEAR. I
1 a CENTS A COPY, f
I*l BUCATION'H.
City Delivery'
—OFTHE
SAVANNAH MORNING NEWS.
The unde rsljrned Is prepared to deliver the
MimNiNO Nkwh (payable in advauce) at the fol
lowing rates:
One Year , #lO 00
Kix Months 6 no
Three Month* 3 50
One Jlouth 1 00
WILLIAM KSTILL,
(Est M's News Depot, No. *t Bull Ht.) <
WOOD.
WOOD.™
Bacon, Johnson & Cos.
Have a tine stock of
Oak. Pine, Lightwood and Kindling,
Comer Überty and Emm Broad .troata.
Teh- phone 117.