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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.