The morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, June 26, 1887, Image 1

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i ESTABLISHED IKSO. ) 'i J. H. ESTILL Editor and Proprietor, j DEATHLESS. apre lies in the centre of each man's heart A longing and love for the good anil pure, ml if out an atom, or larger part, 1 tell you this shall endure, endure, Hfter the body has gone to decay— ’ca. after the world has paused away. he longer I live and the more I see Of the struggle of soul* toward heights above, he stronger this truth comes home to me. That tiie universe rests oil the shoulders of Love— Igive so limitless, deep and broad bat men have renamed it aud called it God. jnl nothing that everVas born or evolved, Nothing created hv light or force, lit deep in the system there lies dissolved A shining drop from the great Love Source— . shining drop that shall live for aye ho’ kingdom# may perish and stunt may die. Llla Wheeler Wilcox. (OBSIXii NEWS LI BRAKY, NO. -JB. SiITOF IE ADIRONMIS. BY ANNE E. ELLIS. aothor of “them women,” etc. [Copyrighted, 1887, by J. H. Estill.] CHAPTER IV. “O! when meet now jich pairs in love and mutual honor joined? Pith goddess-like demeanor forth she went lot unattended. The sweet beauty and winning, artless Fays of Nora were a source of continuous leliglit to Sir Arthur, and now that he had tecome acquainted with her, their acquain ence had ripened into a warm friendship. To Nora the companionship of this hand ome, cultivated man was a source of the jreatest delight. It was what she had reamed of, read of and longed for, aud iow that her longing for the companion hip, for cultivated society was realized, she elt as if she had been translated to another Forld. Sir Arthur found Nora’s education very mperfeet, but she had a taste for the beau iful far above her station, and day alter lay saw these two wandering off together 0 the same bower where Sir Arthur had bund Nora. There he employed the hours n training her rich mind. The imperfect sketches became works of trt under her instructor’s careful tuition, md the rich voice sweet with melody. Nora would have done credit to a higher lirth and more elegant surroundings; her eady memory soon mastered the intricacies if German and French, and the young Englishman was proud of his beautiful pu pl. Timmy was delighted with the interest the itranger was taking in his pet, and as he teard her lisping her pretty French to her lutor his old eyes grew large with wonder. But with Mag it was different. She watched the growing interest of these two young people in each other with a jealous ;ye—and although she sjKike little her looks ihowed her anger at the growing intimacy. Sir Arthur often secretly watched the .'le sions of Mag. and wondered at the indiffer >nce she evinced towards her daughter. She was not positively cruel to Nora—tne dear girl was too sweet and lovely for that, but ihere was a carelessness and coldness not >ften seen in a mother toward her child. Timmy fairly worshipped the ground his daughter walked upon, and Nora dearly loved her father. But to a stranger’s eye it was difficulty to imagine that this sweet, delicate girl was the offspring of such par ents. One beautiful morning the young people started as usual for their bower, Sir Arthur carrying portfolio and books, and Nora looking fresh and sweet in her white dress and rustic hat. Timmy, who was sitting on the porch smoking his pipe, looked after them with ad miring eyes, while Mag looked line a she wolf ready to pounce upon them and tear them to pieces. “When be that chap goin’ ter leave these parts?’’ asked she, turning to Timmy. “I’m sure I don’t know, mother. I’d like him ter stay as long as he could,” answered Timmy. “Umph!” grunted Mag. “And do all the mischief he kin!” “Mischief, mother? What mischief kin he do?” “Timothy Tideout, you allers was a fool!” was the pleasant answer his spouse made him. “Why, what’s the matter now?” asked her husband, looking at her in surprise. “Matter! Don’t ye see they be gittin’ sweet about each other?” exclaimed Mag, her green eyes glistening with rage. “Sweet FVeplied Timmy, iu amazement. And then looking satisfied added: “Well, what if-they are, inotherj” “What if they are, you fool! What ef they are l Don’t ye know, mon, she kin never marry the likes of him?” “Why?” asked Timmy. “ Why l Ye don’t use the sense yer i nother give, ye! Anyone kin see he belongs ter the nig uns, and ye don’t ’spose he be bein’ ter marry her as'belongs ter common folks like us, and hain't no money, nuther?” ex- Mag, savagely. |BBhe's party enough fur anyone," replied Bmy, wistfully. "Yes, and that’s where the danger be. Folks sich as he likes money and a big name as well as looks, and they never means no good by them ns hez only the looks without the other,” responded Mag. “Pooh! mother ! she’ssafe enough with him. That man wouldn’t do a dishonest act fur nothin’,” replied Timmy, determined to de fend young Beaconsfielil, who had liocome a favorite with the old man. “ ‘There’s none so blind as won’t see.’ So ef any harm comes ter the gal I’ve warned ye. Them slick-lookin’ chaps is usually the woi*st,” replied Mag, discontented that she had not succeeded in influencing hoi - hus band against their guest. Meanwhile day after day passed away and week after week, although Romeo had been well enough to travel for some time. Flint it was a picture that could not be finished away from there, and then Nora’s French, drawing and music that detained Sir Arthur. But the real truth downed upon him that lie had learned to love this sweet,, gentle girl with a depth of affection that forbade pelt ing. The very thought of a separation was •gonizing to the young man; anil when he l>oke to Nora of leaving tho [Filing cheek and the tear that started in the swoet blue pye told him that his love was not in vain. It was such a sweet reality that Sir Arthur drifted into it without a thought of uome or friends. All he saw was the beautiful, pure vision t>f loveliness, which he wished to make all Bis own. As to Nom she walked or sat heside him r eoling a happiness ami content she had lover known before. Her btudies were more literesting liecnuse he was her teacher. As yet no word of love had been spoken. One lovely evening when sitting in the mossy bower whom they had flint met, and talking of the beauties of the scene before them, and coupling them with some of their favorite fancies which they had studied from the |wets, ami then singing sweet snatches of song together—just as the twi light shadows began to fall, casting a halo fPju iUormini m the distant west and making the lovely spot where they were seem unreal—their e\ es met as if to read each other’s thoughts and sympathies, and they each—these two— ica.d the stoi*y of the other’s love and— "My love!” and Arthur’s outstretched arms clasped the blushing, happy girl to his ■ roast, while the sweet lips were covered w ith rapturous kisses. , , sat there long—these two—happy in them new-found love, and forgetful of all else but their own jov. And when darkness shrouded vale ahd mountain in its gloom and the silvery moon shed its rays o’er the earth, they wended their wav along the beauteous mountain pa.h towards Nora’s homa Ah! little did they think of the black glittering serpent like eyes that were fol lowing them with looks of deadly hatred. And fortunate it was for them that they am not hear the muttered curses that came n oni the lifts of the owner of those basilisk eyes. VI ell for them that they did not, or their love dream would have been mingled with terror and foreboding. When the two reached Nora's rude home no one was to be seen but Timmy, who was smoking his much-loved pipe in the moon light. Mid meanwhile thinking and dream ing of the happy times when he was a sailor and longing for his old free life. Nora clasped her arms around tho old mans neck and kissed his wrinkled, weather browned cheek over and over again. Arthur took a chair and seated himself by Timmy, but remained silent. “What's the matter now, launnie?” said her tathor, stroking Nora’s fair hair with his rough hand. But Nora was too full for words; so bid ding her father “good night,” went to her room to dream of her new-found happi ness. After Nora had departed to her rest, Timmy and Sir Arthur sat in silence. The moonlight was magnificent, and both men were impressed with the grandeur of the mountain scenery by moonlight. "Purty, isn’t it, stranger: ’ said Timmy, breaking the silence. “Grand!” replied the younger man. “Hev any sich in j r our country, stranger?” “We have some fine scenery in England, but Ido not think it equal to America. There is a wildness and diversity about this that surrounds it with romance that our older country has not.” “But ye line England T asked Timmy. “Yes, I love old England, and I have not yet seen the country I would exchangorfor it. ” “That’s right, stranger, love yer own country better no: anything else—a man hain’t worth much that don’t. I like this country better nor any other because it’s mv home—the country I ware horn and riz ill—besides it’s a free country, whar every one's born free and equal,” replied Timmy, his old f;u lighted up with patriotism. Sir Arthur slightly shrugged his shoulders at this idea of social equality so new to him, and then replied: “I have learned to love something more than country, and I would gladly give up the latter, much as I love it, for that other. ” "You have! What’s that?" asked Timmy, with Yankee curiosity. "Y'our daughter,” replied the young man. “Nora!" exclaimed Timmy, in amaze ment. "Yes, and I v.-ant to ask you to-night to give her to me for my wife.” said the young man, for the first time anxious lest the an swer should be “no.” “And vou love her?" asked Timmy, doubt fully. “Better than my life!” replied Sir Arthur earnestly; so earnestly that no one could doubt his sincerity. Timmy remained silent for awhile, tho deep sighs and heaving chest showing the great conflict he was trying to subdue. In a few moments he turned to Sir Arthur and said; “Stranger, I love my darter better nor anything else. She’s the apple of my eye. But she never did seem ter belong ter Mag and me, and I'm gettin’ ter bo an old man. Mag never did seem to understand Nora, and I’m afeered if I’m taken away she’ll hev a rough time of it. I like yer looks, stranger,” resumed Timmy, after a pause, “and I feel that if I give my darling to ve ye’ll guard her from the rough ways of the world, and I won’t be afeerd ter die when my time comes. So, stranger, you kin hev her.” Timmy brushed a tear from his eye as he gave his consent, showing the mighty effort it had cost him to give away his darling, but like a true friend wishing to do what was for her good. Sir Arthur thanked the old man warmly and retired, alter getting Timmy’s consent that the wedding should be soon so Nora could go with him when he left. Nora’s happiness knew no bounds when her father and lover told her. But h?r joy was somewhat saddened by the prospect of leaving her oid father whom she so dearly loved. Mag said little when told of her daugh ter’s approaching nuptials, but her dissatis faetion was evident by her unusual cross and crabbed manner. To Sir Arthur she never spoke—and to Nora onlv in monosyllables, and then so savagely, that, accustomed as the young girl was to her mother’s peculiarities, she wondered and grieved. But Timmy stood between them and turned off the edge of Mag’s hiimtries’ so good humoredly that Nora was saved much. Poor innocent darling! Bhe little knew what a loss she would be to her old father, and with what unselfish love he was giving up his one sunbeam to save her after he was with Mag and her uneven temper, and miss day after day the loving kiss and gentle caress; but he knew how much harder it would be for Nora were he taken and she left so he crushed his own feelings to make his birdie happy. CHAPTER V. Olio of the frequent visitors at the house of Timmy and Mag—and indeed I might sav the most frequent visitor, for there was scarcely a day that he was not there, except at slight intervals when he was gone from the neighborhood for weeks—was a young man by tho name of Henry Duvanee. He was a tall, slight man, with black, flashing, cunning eyes and black hair; a swarthy complexion that gave him the ap pearance of a Spaniard, but his actions and accent were unmistakbly French. His face hud the impress oftewcumiing. Timmy aid not like him and showed his feelings oponlv; often and often he ex presJd the wish that hi* visits womd be less frequent. Between Mag and Duvanee there was evi dently an understanding—the covert glances and whispered conversations gave evidence of their intimacy. I luvance was evidently in love with Nora, and courted her attention in every wav pos sible but the beautiful girl—although she treated him with politeness as a guest—was evidently in continual fear of him. Nothing was know of this man. except that lie w as French aud made his headquar ter at, Barney’s while in tho noighbor h°Thare were whisperings that, he belonged to a band of smugglers and gamblers, but nothing was positively known. The young man luui evidently looked upon Hir Arthur with distrust from the first; and now that, Nora was so plainly attached to him the feeling had grown to that of bitter batitsl mid desire for revenge. t SAVANNAH, GA., SUNDAY. JUNE 26, 1887—TWELVE PAGES. Young Beaeonsfield liked the Frenehman no better than the Frenehman liked him, but his naturally gentlemanly bearing for bade him acting other than iii a polite way. When Duvaiiie heard of the engagement of Sir Arthur aud Nora he ground his teeth with rage, and the dark eyes flashed with anger; but he controller! himself and acted as if the news were the mast pleasant iu the world. It was a dark, stormy day following tho totrothal of the young people, and in the evening the storm raged with ungovernable fury. The ram fell in torrents white the cutting hail pattered against the windows. The family, with Sir Arthur and Du vanee, were gathered around a blazing fire which burned on the hearth; Nora frightened and trembling and the rest awed with the terriblenoss of the mighty tempest, which soeuiod almost as if it would hurl the house from its foundations down the mountain side. Timmy arose aud went to the window, hut nothing could lie seen but the most in tense darkness, except at intervals when all was lighted by a vivid flash of lightning—he shuddered and returned to his seat. “Mother,” said Timmy, at last, breaking the silence, “it were jist sich a night as this when our Nora was born.” “Yes,” replied Mag, looking feu*‘ f ully to ward the window as another blinding flash of electricity lighted up the room. “Ah!” said Sir Arthur, looking at the sweet, frightened face of his betrothed. The air of interest in Sir Arthur’s voice prompted Timmy to go on: “Yes, it ware list sich a night as this. Ma had been )xx>rly all day and had at last taken to her lied. Her sister Nell had jist lost her place where she hed ben out to ser vice in a noble English family (my wife's an English woman), and Nell had crossed the Atlantic and had come homo to take care of mother. Wo were in the greatest fear,” continued the old man, after another blind ing flash had startled him into silence, and after a few minutes chance to recover him self. "We were iu the greatest fear-fur fear the doctor would not git here in time owin’ to the storm —when what should we hear but the noise of a carriage driyin' up to the door, 'flunkin' it ware the doctor, I hastened to the door jist as a thunderin’ knock was given by someone outside. As soon as I opened it I found a man standin’ with a face that looked as if he was skeered to death. ‘For the love of heaven!’ said he, ‘for the love of heaven give us snelter; my lady is dyinY I told 'em‘welcome,’and a gentleman alighted from the carriage carry m" a lady that, was bundled up so in wrap pin's that I could only guess what she was. iL carried her in and put her oil the boil of the best, room, where her maid who was cryin’ and wringin’ her hands followed her. The doctor aid not git here till near morriin’, but before the (lav broke there ware two wailin’ baby girls in vhe house aud a corpse, for the poor lady nad died, and it was only a few hours till the baby died too. It was the saddest sight I ever did see—the hus band took on dreadful. It must hev been hard ter see his purty voting wife lav in’ in her coffin with her dead baby lyin’ in her arms; fur she ware as purty as a pec ter, even arter she was dead, as I ever seed. There is a look sometimes about my Nora that ’minds me of her—she hed jist sich hair and fair.skin. IVhat seemed odd to me was that the lady’s baby was dark-skinned like Mag and me, andour'n was fair-haired, anti there was a strange lookin’ mole on Nora's arm that I never seed on her when she was fust born.” “Nonsense, dad!” exclaimed Mag, with a suspicious look on her face. “You can't tell what a baby looks like when it’s so lit tle!” “Maybe not! maybe not !” answered Tim my; but resuming: “The gentleman made us promise before he left that we would name our baby Nora after his dead wife, and he made her a handsome present before he left, and often sends her a gift from that there English hum of hL'n. By the way, stranger,” said he, turning to young Bea eonsfield, “he was a countryman of yourn, wasn't he?” "Ah!” exclaimed Sir Arthur, with sur prise. “What was his name. 1 ” “Dudly. Lord or Duke or sumpthin’or other big. I can’t ’zaetly ’member jist now.” “Indeed! He was a near neighbor of ours,” replied the young man: “and now,” said he, “I remember where I have seen a face like Nora's before. For a long time I have been at fault, but since you mention the name of ‘Dudly,’ it reminds me that your daughter is the living image of a por trait of Lady Dudly that I liave seen at their castle. ” I remember seeing Lady Dudly once when I was a very little boy at her marriage, but do not remember moro of her than that she was very sweet and pretty; but I know she died in America, and her husband was nearly heart-broken at her loss. What seems most singular is that the heart-shaped mole you speak of is a family mark of the Dudlv’s. I found that out while talking to an old family servant.” “It do seem strange.” said Timmy, mus ingly. “Nora never did seem to belong to us.” “Whose else would she be?" exclaimed Mag, sharply. “I don’t know. I love her the same as ray own: but she be different from us,” an swered her husband. “It’s ’cause you've coddled her and spited her ’till she thinks she’s too good fur us,” growled Mag. "O no, mother! not that!” cried Nora, with a look of distress. Her mother let her cry go Timmv piatted the golden-head and wiped the distressed tears from her eyes with a gentle hand. “Never mind, lambie! never mind!" said he in his soothing way. Arthur looked at Mag with indignation, aud caught for the first time the startled, meaning looks exchanged between the old woman and Dnvanee. Ho knew by Mag’s looks that she was frightened by the conver sation. Looking at Nom as a thought entered his brain, he exclaimed mentally; “Can it be!" and then the absur it) of the idea of Nora truly being a chai Sung ho banished t he idea, only wishing sh. Hr not the daughter of these rough pieopl The storm subsided and Du had those inside have heard the oaths as lie left the house they been more careful. {J <9l CHAPTER VI. There was now an added charm to "ir Arthur and Nora in each other's society since they were so soon to be one in name and heart. The sweet love of Nora shown in so many pretty, innocent ways marie her still more precious in the eyes of her lover. Sir Art hur insisted on an early marriage, and they were only waiting for the arrival of some necessary article* which he thought his bride should have and which he had ordered from New York, to have the mar riage ceremony performed. “Where shall we go to-day, love?” asked Sir Arthur, as they wended their way along the mountain road with portfolio in hand. “To the copee just over the ravine, dear Arthur,” answered Nora, view is lovely from there,” replied she, Joyfully, slipping her tiny white hand in bis. These two walked along merrily until they found the spot, and seating themselves on a mossy rock just overhanging the ravine and with the close cause just behind them, they prepared for sketching, for they had arranged to waste no time before they left, and now that the autumn had begun the beauty of the scenery was at it* height. But before they began the view before them was so grand that they forgot all else. So absorbed were they with the beauty and grandeur of the lovely valley beneath with its varied foliage and rippling streams, that they did not hear the faintest sound of the step behind them. In but a moment aud before he had time to turn a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder, and young Beaeonsfield was hurled from his seat ftito the yawning abyss be low. So suddenly was it done that Nora looked in amazement until, realizing the horrors of her lover’s situation, she gave one wild shriek. A ga" was thrust into her mouth before she nan time to make another outcry, and she was earned fainting to a carriage that, was waiting on the roadside. Duvanee, for it was none other than he who had wrought this mischief, placed his helpless burden in the carriage and sprang in himself. “All right, pal?” asked the driver, who had appeared from behind some bushes, while Duvanee did his nefarious work. “All right!” replied the Frenchman, with a fiendish laugh. “Don’t think she’ll come to and holler?” again asked the mail, anxiously. “Trust me for that! she won’t, squeak till we get her there—but drive on, or we'll be caught.” “Aye! aye!” was the response, and in a moment the horses were rattling over the mountain road at a swift rate. The carriage wended its way down tho mountain and then took an unfrequented road through the forest. Thus far they had met no one until they came to a cross road that led from the one in which they were driving. Duvanee hud thrust his head from the carriage window to give some direction to Barney the driver, when two countrymen on horseback came toward them from the other road. Duvaunee hastily pulled in his head, but not before he was' recognized and Barney also. Barney they knew by his burly form and heavy eyebrows, notwithstanding his at tempted disguise of false beard and mous tache and slouched hat drawn far over his face. The men suspeetod something wrong, and had they known of the precious burden the vehicle contained would have risked their lives in her rescue. But knowing the revengeful character of the men with whom they would have to deal, and suspecting nothing of the true character of tiieir villainous work the farm ers rode quietly on, only glad to get out of their way. The carriage was driven into the heart of the forest, and stopped near a small two storied huh It had the appearance of lieiug uninhabit ed, but a rap brought a toothless old woman to tho door, who nodded approvingly os Nora was carried upstairs and deposited on a couch in a room that was evidently in tended for her. Duvanee left the girl still unconscious in the charge of the old woman, who imme diately applied restoratives. Even her hard heart was touched with a feeling of pity as she saw the exquisite beauty of the girl. The dinner hour came at Timmy's, and Sir Arthur and Nora did not make their ap pearance. Mag did not seem disturbed, but Timmy went to the door every few minuses ami, shading Vis eyes, looked up and down the road. “Come in, man, and eat yer dinner, and don’t stand there lookin’ like a fool! Y’o can't exnect them us is heart over head in love with each other ter think of their din ners,” ealle l Mag, as he went out for the fiifth or sixth time. Timmy attempted to obey, but it was a pooi - dinner he made, and as soon as he had finished he took his hat from its peg and went out. He had not gone far before he met a man hurrying towards him. “Is anything the matter?” asked the anx ious old man. “Yes!” answered the man, fanning him self with his hat. “Nora?” gasped Timmy, now' thoroughly alarmed. “No, I don’t know' nothin’ about her, but the stranger that was stayin’ with you be found liurted,” replied the' messenger. Timmy shouted for Sampson, and the two hurried with the messenger to the spot where Sir Arthur had lieen found. Tliev found the young man lying on the grass In the valley' where he liad been car ried. Two boys hunting for bird’s nests had discovered what they thought, to lie a dead body lying on a ledge just under where Sir Arthur had lieen sitting, which ledge had happily broken his fall. The boys had at once given the alarm, and the men who had come to the rescue had carried the young man tenderly to a more comfortable place. Sir Arthur was still insensible when Timmy arrived, and, as he thought, dying. A litter was quicklv constructed, and the bruised and mangled form of the young man carried carefully to the house, while a mes senger was dispatched for a surgeon. The physician soon arrived and, after dressing the invalid’s wounds, pronounced him in a fair way of recovery if care were taken. The sorrow and excitement of fiudiug his young guest in such a lamentable state had taken all thought ot Nom out of Tiinmo's head. That Sir Arthur's accident was the result of a mischance step was tne conclusion of all. But as soon as he knew his friend was out of danger Timmy gave the alarm, and search was made for the missing girl. But no mew could be found. The track of the carriage wheels were seen, but they so soon intermingled and had been cut in by other wheels that hojje failed. Indignation ran so high that people far and near wore ou the watch for the villains who had perjietruted such an ohtrage. Kir Arthur was delirious for several days after lie was found, so that nothing could to learned from him, but when he did re rover he could tell nothing except that he had been sitting by Nora and had felt some one push him, and he had fallen, and that was the last he remembered until ho found himself in hi* room. To a strong, vigorous constitution like Sir Arthur’s it did not take long to recover; and in about ten days, although somewhat weak, he was able to be about. Duvanee had not shown himself since the attempt on young Beaeonsfield'* life, and suspicion pointed strongly to him, but noth ing could, as yet, to proven, so it had to rest, on suspicion. As soon as Sir Arthur was at all able to be about he sent for an expert New York detective, and a few days brought another rough looking character to the neighbor hood of Barney's. He was so evidently one of Barney’s own crew that people gave him a wide berth. He smoked, drank and gambled at Bar-, ney’s with the rest, and his rough joke* and brusque ways made him a welcome guest. Martin Dobbs was so evidently one of themselves that Barney and his chum* took him by the hand most cordially. It was not long ere Martin nad formed a warm friendship with a frequenter of the tavern who called himself Paul Dovrefleld. Dovrefleld never made his appearance at Barney’s until after night, and then he was wrapped in a long cloak and had bis hat drawn over his eyes, which he never re moved in the bar room. “He drank and played late and then left, disappearing no one knew whither. Notwithstanding the intimacy between Martin and Paul the latter never once hint ed as to where he lived, nor invited Martin to accompany him. ITO BE CONTINUED.] THE TOMB OF THE LEES. Description of the Mausoleum Erected at Lexington, Va. FVoni the Xeic Orleans Times-Deneocrat. Gen. Robert E. toe was prostrated by his final illness on September 28, 1870, and died on the morning of October 12. He was bu ried in the library room of the Washington and Lee University chapel on Oct. 15, this place being selected bv Mrs. Lee after the university authorities had placed at her dis posal any part of the grounds for which she might express a preference. I he funeral service was conducted by Rev. W. M. Pendleton, rector of Grace Memorial Church, of which Gen. 1 ,ee was a communi cant. On the day of tile funeral a large number of ex-Coufederate soldiers met and organized the "Lae Memorial Association,” and decided to take immediate action in t he erection of a handsonn*monument over the dead chieftain’s remains. His wife was re quested to designate her wishes in the design of the proposed monument, and, alter care ful consideration, selected a recumbent fig ure of Gen. toe, lying asleep on the field of battle. This work, of pure white marble — stainless and without a blemish, typical of the man it was to honor—was furnished by Virginia’s distinguished sculptor, E. V. Val entine, of Richmond, at an expense of $5,000. It w as received in Lexington about the mid dle of April, 1875, and was placed iu one of the rooms in tho college building prepara tory to finding a proper site' for its location. Some time was consumed in receiving spe-c ideations for a building, none of which were approved by the association. In 1877 J. Crawford Nelson, a leading Baltimore architect, offered a design for the mauseloeuni which prof-osed a rectangular apse to lie placed in the rear of the chapel, and this was promptly accepted. The chap el, used for public aud religions exercises of tho university, was modeled from designs which contemplated the erection of a hand some spire by Gen. Lee. An insufficiency of funds in the hands of the trustees has not enabled them to complete this part of the structure, and it, now stands us built in 18(12, surmounted by a cupola. In consequence of this incompleteness comments are fre quently heard derogatory to the architect!! ral toauty of the building. As ordinarily contemplated it designed a largo audience hall on tho main floor 50x125 foot, a library ill the basement 50x50 foot, together with two office rooms, one of tiie latter being oc cupied by Gen. Lee until within a few days of his death. The mausoleum was an addi tion to the building on the eastern end. 11l x 88 fret, completely firo-prpof, conforming in its exterior to the chapel, and is a two story building, the basement a cryptof solid masonry (Rockbridge county gray lime stone), the superstrilfeture of brick, and brick constituting the inside finish save where Cleveland stone is made to show large panels of most beautiful tint. This crypt contains twenty-seven niches, designed by the association for such of Gen. Lee’s rela tives and descendants as may express a de sire to have their remains deposited there. In making the bequest the association made this a condition, which was accepted by the trustees. in one of those niches repose the ashes of pen. tor, the floors of his office toing just opposite, and when the doors are thrown open the casket is plainly visible from th office itself. This office is no less an object of interest to visitors than the tomb itself, from the fact that it presents the same ap pearance, alter the lapse of nearly seven teen years, in the position of the books, fur niture, etc., therein that it did when the Confederate leader left it. tor his sick cham ber, which became his death chamber. The room containing the recumbent fig ure in on a level with the speaking platform or stage of tho chapel. The stat ue is in plain view of the audience assembled in tho chapel, this view being cut off at, pleasure by means of massive sliding doors of iron. The mausoleum is connected with the chapel by an ante-chamtor and a large arched opening heavily curtained loads from the chapel in to tii** ante-chamber. The mellow light, as admitted through a large window of tinted glass i:i the celling immediately over the statue, adds greatly to the effect, lending a somborneas' that, far from toing unpleasant, is like the realization of Wads worth’s fancy of The light that was never on land or sea. The figure and couch, which are of statuary marble, are mounted on a sarcophagus, sim ple iu its severity of design, which rests on a granite base course. Tiie sides of the sar cophagus are composed of two marble pan els each, the space between the panels bear ing, in basso relievo, on one side tho Lee roat-of-arms anil on the other the arms of Virginia. The head and foot consist of one panel each, the former toing ornamented by a simple cross, the latter touring the legend: EGBERT EDWARD LEE. BORN January 19, 1807; MED October 12, 1870. The figure is more than life size, and rest* on a heavily draped couch, in an attitude of easy repose, the head toing elevated to a natural position, with the face turned slightly to the right, while the feet are lightly crossed and the right forearm lies lightly across the breast, the hand holding by simple weight the blanket that rovers the lower part of the body. The left arm is fully extended along the couch, this hand resting on the hilt of a sword, and the con tour of the llinto toing plaAly seen through the covering which fails over the lower part of the body. The fund of (130,000 used for the erection of this building and tiie cost of the statue was raised through the efforts of the “Lee Memorial Association,” and the mausoleum with its treasure, when completed, was turned over to the Washington and Lee University. Tiie association, after the ob ject of its organization was attained, re garded itself ns functus officio, and dis solved. Tho day set, July 28, 1882. was noted as the time of the unveiling, Miss Julia Jackson, (laughter of Htonewall Jackson, drawing tiie oorl that pulled away tiie cano py over the statue, and for hours the vast throng pass'd through the building, viewing wit.ii admiration the tonutiful work of art. In another of the niche* lire the body of Mary Custis wife of the hero and mother of (e. G. VV. C. Lee, President of the university, und in the one adjoining hers are the remains of the daughter Agnes. The mausoleum, like the grave of Jack son, i* visited annually by reverent pilgrims from all |>art* of the country. A Ftjjntv isrmr.ST occurred at *n auction sale last week. The vrlelder of the hammer was try ing to obtain a l>ict of s."> on an article which a lady was evidently anxious to get. ‘-Who'll offer five"' he saw. “I'll give you six." she ex claimed in her excitement, much to the amuse ment of the bystanrtws. This brings to Julud a story told by a storekreper in this city, w ho was salted to purchase some goods in bis line of Imsl ness by a childish messenger. "How much do you want for them?" he Inquired. "Well,’ was Ibe hesitating reply, "msmraa told me to ask MV., but said I might take 83c. if I could not get ]>' more.”- Boston (iatette. A. K. ALTMAYER <S- CO. ILlltiiyer & co. Our "rand clearing sale pre paratory to annual inventory will be continued this week with enormous attractions in every department. We ad vise purchasers to call early in order to secure bargains. Many lots will be offered at prices that will make them move like a cyclone. SPECIMEN Clearing Prices: 7,000 yards Colored Lawns, fast colors, at 10. a yard. Just think of it, a full dress pattern, 10 yards, for 10c.; makes up handsomely and wears won derfully. The best quality yard wide Lawns,very handsome designs, 8 l-3c.; last week 12 l-2c. The tip-top of all wash Dress Goods is an all linen Lawn; makes up a handsome, cool serviceable dress, always holds its color, in beautiful designs, 19c.; sold all season from 25c. to 35c. The best Seersuckers, the best Ginghams, the best Crazy Cloth, the best Printed Dimity and Persian Lawns, and nu merous other wash dress fabrics among the hot-weather things are cut wonderfully low. The way the White Dress Goods are going out is a caution, hi very day since we first an nounced this great clearance sale there has been a most-of the-time jam at this counter. The cheaper grades arc ail sold but we got a good substitute. We reduced all the finer qual ities to nearly one half their regular price, or in other words, our 12 l-2c. India Linen reduced to 8 1-3 c.; our 15c. finality reduced to 10c.; our 25c. quality reduced to 15c.; and all better grades in the same proportion. Next to our White Goods Department we will offer 300 full size white Honey comb Quilts at 43c, each; generally sold for 65c. and 75c. 2,000 yards Check Crash Toweling 3 l-2c. a yard; for merly considered.good value for 6c. and Bc. They are offered at t hose ruinous prices in order to insure a speedy sale, and never can be dupli cated again. Small things, such as odds and ends in Flouncings, Cam bric, Swiss and Nainsook Em broideries and Laces marked down to nearly half price. 42-inch Embroidered Flouncings, very handsome patterns, 85c., 95c. and $1 15; reduced from $1 25, $1 50 and $2. Wo are headquarters for Ribbons. We carry a full line of shades and widths. We have an immense variety to select from and the following prices speak for themselves. Superior quality all silk, satin and gros grain Ribbons, in all colors, No. 9, 12 1 -2c.; No. 12, 15c.; No. 16, 20c. Gents’ Furnishing. Business will be lively this week. Our offering in this department deserves univer sal attention. 100 dozen Gent’s White Unlaundried Shirts, all sizes, linen bosom and bands, made of good shirting and well fin ished, at 2oe. each. It is a surprise to know how. they can be made for the money. (PRICE am A YEAR. I 1 5 CENTS A COPY. | A. R. AI.TMAYFR A CO. Gents’4-in-hand Silk Scarfs, satin lined, beautiful styles, 15c. each; worth 35c. Gents’ Lisle Thread Hose, seamless, fast colors, 18c. a pair; good value for 35c. Trimmed and Cntrimmed Millinery. We shall close out the bal ance of these goods at driv ing prices. By driving price# we mean prices so far below their usual selling figures that they’ll be driven speedi ly oft’ our hands: for instance, .$lO trimmed for $5, $l2 trimmed Hats and Bonnets for $6, and $l5 trimmed Hats for $7. Remnants Crepe Liss e Ruching, short lengths, in black, white and fancy tints, 15c. a yard; worth from 35c. to 50c. 1 lot Ladies’ Black Jer seys, vest front, plaited back, nice fitting goods, 75c.; re duced from $1 50. Shall it be a nice Jersey Suit for the boy? Nothing neater, either in blue or brown, lace front, sailor col lar, trimmed with white braid, at .$1 98; positively worth $3 50 to $4. Boys Linen Duck Suits, neatly made, pearl buttons, at $1 49; formerly sold for $3. Boys’ White and Striped Duck Vests, size 10 to 17 years, 49c.; worth $1 25. Odd Pants, plenty of them, for the little fellows; they are always in need of them. Now is your time; all sizes at 23c. a pair: honestly cannot be made for double the money. Ladies’ Muslin Underwear lower than the material can be manufactured for. 50 dozen Ladies’ Chemise, made of good muslin and trimmed with torchon lace, 23c. each; worth 40c. 50 dozen Ladies’ Chemise, tucked bosom, cambric ruffle, trimmed with lace and em broidered, 47c. each; reduced from 75c. Leather Traveling Bags, large size, a big drive, 98c; regular price $1 50 to $2. SOMETHING SPECIAL 10 pieces all-silk Pongee, each piece measures 22 yards, $5; reduced from $lO. 8 very handsome embroi dered Pongee Robes at $7 50; reduced from $l5 and s2o. f Never again can these goods be had for near the price. The greatest slaughter ever known in the prices of white and colored Embroid ered Robes as long as they last, at 50 per cent, under actual cost. Don’t fail to see them. Wake up, friends, wake up. We feel this warm weather just as badly as you do. We also feel that we have 1,400 pairs Ladies extra fine Kid Button Boots that should have arrived here three Months ago; they only arrived on last Thursday’s steamer. These goods were bought to sell for five dollars, but as it is the wrong season for high quarter shoes, and to close them out in a big hurry we have de cided to let them go at $2 49 per pair, There is 8., C., D. and E. widths. Common Sense and Opera Toe lasts in this lot, seen on our bargain coun ters in Shoe Department, price $2 49. (NT MU Orders receive careful and prompt attention. llimr&k (J Broughton and Bull Streets.