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A VERY SESIOU3 OBJECTION,
From, the Boston Courier,
She had an eye of witching blue,
She had a cheek of crimson hue.
She had a wealth of golden hair
Which rippled over shoulders fair
Asanj lily, lips as red
AS coral from the ocean s bed.
And whitest teeth that e’er was seen
Their rosy portals flashed between.
A hand small, shapely, soft and fair,
Dione’s daughter's forii and air,
A step as light as sportive fawn,
A smile as sweet as summer dawn
When fair Aurora tints vbe skies
With colors caught from Paradise;
A voice as sweet as oriole’s song—
The sweetest of the feathered throng—
A temper, amiable and mild,
• 'he artlessness that marks the child?
All these in form and mild wero blent,
But then, she didn’t possess a cent.
NEWS LIBRARY, N O . SO.
BY ANNE E. ELLIS.
author of “them women,” etc.
[Copyrighted, 1887, by J. H, Estill.]
The new scenes and surroundings of the
great metropolis were a constant delight to
>7>ra, and especially when in company with
Sir Arthur had provided her with a
French maid, and the ingenuity, of her nin
ble fingers had transformed the already
beautiful girl into a being of unmatched
Nora’s exquisite beauty And graceful de
meanor attracted admiring attention from
all, and her young husband was charmed 1
with the modest grace of his bride.
Upon reaching New York, rooms were,
taken at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and Nora
provided with’a trousseau befitting her sta
The wonders of the great city of New
York were wonders indeed to Nora—she had
never been further from her mountain home
than the adjoining village in her life—and
now she was in reality among the scenes she
had so often read of.
Fifth avenue, with its magnificent resi
dences, the churches and galleries of art
and the beauties of Central Park, filled her
with wonder and delight, and the blue eyes
became more intensely blue as they sparkled
with new pleasure.
The class of society into which the rank
of Sir Arthur and the beauty and graoe of
his young wife admitted them, raved over
the rare specimen of angelic loveliness—and
although a rival women, who had reigned
supreme before, did not feel envious, so inno
cent was the Lady Nora of her superior at
Arthur gazed upon his beauteous bride
with eyes now love-lit as she stood before him
one evening for his inspection dressed in a
robe of satin of that delicate rose-tint,
which heightened the charms of the one
whom he had thought so beautiful in her
simple dress of white muslin a few months
There she stood—his wife. The beautiful
girl whom he had thought a creature of an
other sphere when he first saw her in her
rough mountain home.
The soft rose-tinted dress, setting off to
perfection the round, dimpled, perfectly
molded arms, the perfect neck with its
necklace of pearls—the latter a gift from
himself, and a fitting emblem of the purity
of the wearer. The small pink ears uh
marred by the unsightly scam that are
meant to contain the useless jewels; the
golden hair and the heaven’s own blue eyes
sparkling with happiness.
Sir Arthur took this sweet vision in his
arms, impressing kisses on the pure brow
and budding lips.
“Surely,” thought he, “my father cannot
blame me for loving this beautiful creature,
although she had no high-born dame—her
own sweetness will be a passport to his
heart, and my mother will love her
Of Margaret’s devotion he felt sure; she
loved her boy too well not to love his chosen
Sir Arthur folded the ermine cloak, with
its soft lining, around his fair bride, and,
donning his own wraps, assisted her to the
carriage, which soon carried them to the
doors of the opera where, as they entered
the box, all eves were centered on Lady
It w as rare that such beauty was seen in
New York, and although its possessor was
innocent of the attractiveness of her pres
ence—drinking in as she did the sweet
strains of music with rapture and forget
ting all else—still the people did not forget
Nora’s passionate love for music was be
ing cultivated where she could hear that of
a higher order. Her simple ballads had
shown her naturally sweet voice, but its
beauty and richness had developed to that
degree under the tuition of the best masters
that all who heard it were astonished.
Her French which she had commenced
studying with Sir Arthur before their mar
riage, she was now perfecting in all its puri
ty and spoke and read it like a native Pari
Arthur was enraptured with his bride;
but when he wrote home he avoided men
tioning her to his family—why he knew; not—
but there was a feeling of dread which pre
vented his telling the story of his marriage
—be thought each day he would certainly
ioS‘ * '* was always deferred.
“Kemember, my son, that you are a Bea
consfield,” rang in Sir Arthur’s ears—and
tut knowledge of Nora’s lowly birth and the
naughty pride of his father filled him with
& dread of he knew- not what. .•
And yet he loved Nora with a blind idola
The charms and successes of the Lady
oetty were often spoken of by Sir Arthur’s
parents in their letters, but a suspicion that
“tty had plans in t hat direction for himself
ro-i’ ° nce e -t'bored his mind,
w o! u f "' r * °ttcn would the pretty Nora,
an her blue eyes resting lovingly on his
<'<h ask him to tell her of his sweet-faced
“inther and proud father; and also of his
°M nurse, Margaret,
I long to see them, Arthur, dear!”
„ sho one day as ho was telling her tho
And so you shall ere long, sweet,” re-
PM he, playfully.
;' ust to think that a poor mountain las
nrio'. m .vself should have been wedded to
ne so much above me in rank and wealth!
“ it not strange f”
i^ 0 ' R weethearfc. Many a Rower is born
tl.„ ,'i I' unseen, apd waste its sweetness on
but not thou, my love; the
•I nmm R pil’d scenteditohoney mid plucked
lily 10 Woom in fairer bowers,” re-
P w if. young husband, playfully.
U n • , J 1 I wonder, dear Arthur,” said
ca, I’blushing 1 ’ blushing at his praises, “how my lot
Wi ~ , cast in that rough mountain
hkmi. '' a iber was kind and loved me in
. r °ugh fashion, but mother was al
srim.u <TOfB until just before I left her; but
nn „ ow ’ Arthur, they never soem*i like
nrnts? w “ P are ntB. I always pictured my
ld\ , r L n m y° w n mind a* a sweet, gentle
shin and °f® presence I could almost wor
hJ’ 1 crimp* there is some strange niys
tnv h ' oniH 'rted with my birth—or is it only
"'istfuiily" that it should be sof” said Nora,
Hnin' t ' S " have thought there may be some
ttairJSm connected with you. I some
tWl, I .I 1 ffoni what I have' heard of tho
Mr, '* ** being born the same night, the
tui-niM nulr h °n the arm and Duvanee
or.. rfifO,° U ir 10 boa Dudly, that |jerhap you
*•„. ~ V liHdy Dudlv’s child and that it
thiir" *** B child that died,” replied Sir Ar
fcusbauip® her vvaudering eyes to her
motive, dear husband, could there
she 6be6n f ° r makm S such a change!” asked
ca nnot imagine—but you are
like the portrait of Lady
‘SAm I! Oh, am I?” cried Nora, eagerly.
Yes; and I often thins Mag could tell
much if she would.”
“Those papers, Arthur?”
a l * ll , in my possession. I cannot:
tmnk them of much, importance, and so will
aefer giving them to Lord Dudly until I
“But might they not settle the question
of mv birth ?” asped Nora.
'J. hardly think so. I only think Duvanee
or Dudly saw tho striking resemblance be
tween yourself and the late Lady Dudly,
land fearing that Lord Dudly might marry
aga*.i, and so cut him off from the inheri
tance, sought to marry you and palm you
off as the supposed dead child,” replied Sir
■Arthur. , r
I think Mag could solve the mystery if
she would,” answered Arthur. “But, my
dear, tha* small ebair. and locket around
your neck 1 Is it a precious talisman, that
you always wear it?’*
“Mother gave it to me just before I left
her; but I must not open it yet.”
bo saying, Nora showed her husband the
locket, but forbade him to open it.
gir Arthur examined it carefully.
• ‘N. D.’—strange! ‘Nora £ udly’—the
Tiame of Lady Dudly,” said he, thoughtful
ly, and your name is Nora.”
“Yes, dearest! Lord Dudly asked than it
should be so on the day of his departure
from our home.”
“It may have been a gift then for your
na.ue,” replied Sir Arthur: but notwith
standing this apparently plausible excuse
for Mag’s possession of the locket he pon
dered deeply on the subject—he knew if
Nora was Lord Dudly’s child Msg alone
; could tell it, but there was no use to try to
But Arthur resolved to write and tell
fLord Dudly of his suspicion as soon as he
could afford tho time.
1 ‘ How much longer shall we remain in this
dear, delightful New York, dear?” asked
.Nora, her face beaming with the happiness
with which her heart was overflowing.
“Not much longer, darling, I am afraid.
My parents expect me home on Christmas,
and I have more to show you of this world
which you think so beautiful before I pre
sent my mother with her sweet daughter,”
replied Sir Arthur, playfully.
“And then! oh, then! dear husband. I
shall have the sweet gentle lady I have al
ways longed to call ‘mother,’ ” cried Nora,
“Yes, darling! She will love you tender
ly, I am sure!” replied the proud young hus
band, clasping her lovingly in his arms—
while Nora laid her golden head upon his
breast devouring every dear feature with
her sweet eyes. *
Aye, lovers! enjoy the happy present, but
the future with its heartaches is yet to
Sweet Nora was too innocent and too
trustful to think that her beloved’s parents
would scorn her on account of her lowly
As yet she knew no difference in rank or
blood —she had only been wafted to the en
chanted land she had longed for in her
dreams, and she expected to find all the rest
like a fairy bower.
Her American blood and training knew
no difference in rank as yet, and she was de
lightfully happy, her pure brow un wrinkled
by a single care.
Not so her husband. He felt that he loved
this angelic creature better than all else be
side —but he feared and dreaded the conse
quences of the step he had taken, but he
breathed not a suspicion of what he felt to
The time soon arrived when Sir Arthur
and Lady Nora were to leave New York and
the United States.
For some unexplained reason the young
man decided to take his wife to Germany
before presenting her to his parents.
Nora sailed away from the home she had
always known with a light heart for—was
not her husband with her!—and was she not
going to the arms of a dear mother—the
sweet and gentle lady for whom she had
always longed ?
The voyage was favorable, and not many
days elapsed ere Nora found herself domi
ciled in one of the odd chateaux she had so
often read about.
The German forests and mountains —for
although Nora had been accustomed to
mountains all her life, yet there were so
unlike those she had seen in her Adiron
dack home that the young bride was in con
stant wonderment and delight—these were
a great source of pleasure, fraught as they
were with legend and romance.
The German matrons, as were the Ameri
can, were charmed with the sweet, inno
cent beauty of the young lady.
In all her travels, and now particularly,
did Nora apply herself to her own improve
“I am Arthur'6 wife now,” said she one
day to herself; ‘ ‘and must I not try to appear
well and not make him feel ashamed of me
before his high-born relatives?” And the
sweet face lighted with pleasure at the
thought of improving herself for Arthur’s
Most urgent letters were received from
his home urging Sir Arthuajs return; and
his father's missives showed so much impa
tience that he feared he could not remain
away long enough to carry out his plans in
regard to his voung wife.
He had wished to show her more of
strange countries before he returned, but ho
now only pleaded for a month more in which
to finish a painting of a view of the Thur
ingian mountains which he wished to place
in the coming exhibition.
Often Sir Arthur seated himself to con
fess to the Earl his marriage and ask for
giveness for his violation of filial duty for
taking such a step without his consent —and
then he thought he would write to his much
loved mother, knowing that her loving heart
would understand and plead for him.
But words would not come to express him
self, and he at last decided to wait and pre
sent his bride without explanation, leaving
it for her sweet beauty to plead for him.
“Stony, indeed,” thought he, “would be
the heart that could steel itself against such
Letters came often, Timmy writing in
his scrawling chirograph}’; they were short,
but brief as they were, they told that the
old man missed his darling sorely—but ho
rejoiced in the happiness of his child.
“Your mother, wrote he, in a late letter,
“has been poorly ever since you left, butsho
savs I must not tell you for fear I should
worry the child. She seems to be worryin’
about something all the time—if I ask her
if it’s about you she’s greavm’ she says
‘no.’ Yer Aunt Nell has not been heard
from sine© she was let out of jail, and it
seems to provoke yer mother to hear her name
mention**!, I don't wonder after tho
way she acted.”
It caused Nora much uneasiness to learn
of her mother’s indisposition and she not there
to comfort her —such was the kindness and
gentleness of the young wife’s character,
that notwithstanding Mag’s continual un
graciousness and indifference, yet Nora re
membered that she was hor mother, and her
heart yearned to comfort her.
.She would like to have returned home for
for awhile, but Sir Arthur was not willing
to have her leave him to cross the Atlantic
alone and he could not go with her-so with
„ tifrh of patient resignation and a sweet
smife she gave up her idea and left her trial
W ForNorawasone of the beheving, tmrt
ing kind of Christians who had full faith m
the power above without repining at God s
picture was finished and entered upon
the list of competitors, and Sir Arthur
started homeward with his sweetwife-
As he drew nearer his ancestral halls his
heart misgave him, and he trembled for the
rooentionne would receive.
But as the young man looked at his beau
tiful wife he coulo not see how any one
could resist her loveliness.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JULY 17, 1887.
“Dear Arthur,” said Nora, raising her
beautiful eyes to his, “you do not know how
I long to meet your gentle mother! How I
shall love her!” exclaimed she, with rap
ture, as she thought of having a lady of cul
ture—a real lady to call “mother”—and
whom she could win by her loving atten
tions to call her “daughter.”
Sir Arthur gazed wistfully at Nora and
trembled —he knew not why.
When they arrived at the station at
Stonehenge they found the carriage await
ing Sir Arthur —not Nora—for he had made
no mention of her.
Andrew, the faithful servant of the Bee
cousfields advanced to meet his young mas
ter with smiling face as he beheld the fa
miliar face as ho alighted from the railway
Sir Arthur first assisted a young and beau
tiful lady to alight, and then shook the old
retainer warmly by the haud.
“Andrew,” said Sir Arthur, as Lady
Nora took his arm, “this is my wife, Lady
Nora smiled graciously and put forward
her small, gloved hand.
Andrew’s astonishment was so great that
he forgot his manners and stared almost
rudely. Sir Arthur’s engagement with
Lady Betty was so well known and had
been so much talked about that the servants
of the hall had taken it as a foregone con
clusion that soon after Sir Arthur’s return
there would be a grand wedding and the ac
As tho carriage approached the Castle
Nora thought sho had never seen anything
so lovely before.
The sloping lawn shaven smoothly looked
like velvet, while tho terraces and bowers,
the urns and vases full of flowers of varied
hues and the immense trees overshadowing
the avenues seemed like fairy land.
The fountains cast their silver spray aloft
and then fell in shining mist in their marble
basins in which white swans were floating;
while pooping at the prancing horses from
leafy shrubs could he seen the bright eyes
of deer with their antlers tov ering above
The sparkling river beyond with the rus
tic bridges overhanging and tho pleasure
boats moored to the piers was most en
The hill beyond showed the handsome
house of Lord Dudly with its lofty towers.
Nora gave an exclamation of delight as
she came in view of the castle.
She saw a stately marble pile with im
mense pillars, the sculptured bases carved
with leafy friezes. The windows with their
many colors cast shadows like rainbows all
“You think it beautiful then, my love?”
said Sir Arthur, pleased at the delight of
his beautiful darling.
“Yes, my husband! so very beautiful!
And this is to be my home!” cried Nora,
with paling face and abated breath.
“Yes, my love! I hope you will spend
many, many happy days within its walls,”
“O, I am sure I cannot be but happy In
this lovely some, my husband!” cried Nora.
“And I hope, my darling, you will never be
disappointed in your mountain bride,” con
tinued she, seeing a shadow of trouble on
“That I am sure I never will be, sweet
wife!” said Sir Arthur, gazing at her beau
tiful, upturned face with the deepest affec
tion. “Remember, whatever may hap
pen your husband loves you always—that he
would willingly give up father, mother,
friends —everything for your sake!”
“Would you! O, would you! my own
darling! O, what bliss! what rapture to bo
loved like this!” cried the delighted girl,
looking into the face of her husband and
clasping her small, white hands in rap
As they approached the castle the great
doors of the entrance wero thrown open,
displaying rows of liveried servants ranged
on each side, forming a wall of protection.
The valet, dressed in livery of gold lace
and scarlet cloth, came to the carriage and,
throwing open the door, said at tho same
time bowing low:
“Welcome, my lord; welcome home
But seeing Lady Nora’s sweet face he
started—but a well-bred English servant sel
dom shows outwardly any surprise he may
feel in the presence of his superiors—so he
merely bowed again, and ushered the pair
through the rows of smiling, bewildered at
tendants to the drawing room, where the
stately father and lady mother awaited their
“The father was steel and the mother was
They lifted the latch and they bade him be
Bnt loud on the morrow their wail and their
He had laughed on the lass with her bonny
—Sir Walter Scott.
Lord Dudly—Earl Beaconsfield’s nearest
neighbor—was, like the Earl, of proud
He had married early in life a beautiful
girl—but unlike Sir Arthur’s bride, who
was of humble parentage, his fair voung
bride was of noble birth; her family had
become impoverished, but they hail always
maintained their pride with some show.
When Lord Dudly married the golden
haired lady she was without dowry, but
only a short time elajsod after their nuptials
when an heirless relative left her a fair es
tate with jewels and plate—all of which she
had willed to any daughter that might be
born to them, and if they should have no
daughter, then it was to go to a younger
The title of the Dudlys was entailed, but
not the estates.
A few months after their marriage the
health of Lady Dudly became so precarious
that physicians urged her removal to other
scenes, and, after travel on the Continent
without benefit, Pord Dudly resolved to
cross the Atlantic to Canada and tho United
But, alas! to no purpose! And it was
only when Lord Dudly saw the young wife
fading so surely before his eyes that he
yielded to her entreaties to remove her to
her English home.
Fate decreed that she should never reach
that home. While crossing the wild Adi
rondack region on their way from Mon
treal they were overtaken by a terrific
storm, and Lady Dudly was carried to her
last resting place from the rough shelter of
After her death Lord Dudly had refused
to look upon the face of either his wife or
hor babe—all arrangements had been male
by her maid and attendants, and the pre
cious remains hail been taken to England
and placed in the family vault.
Nell and Mag were both English, and Nell
had lived in the family of Lord Dudly be
fore his marriage, but had been discharged
in disgrace for her thieving practices.
The desire for revenge hail sunk deep into
her heart and she lived only for that—with
not a thoughtof gratitude that sho hail been
saved from arrest and imprisonment by the
intervention of the one she hated.
Both Nell and Mag had emigrated to
America shortly after Nell’s disgrace, and
Mag, by some hook or crook secured honest
Timmy for a husband.
Nell led a strange sort of existence—
sometimes at service, and at others in a way
no one but herself and her evil companions
knew —but sho lived in constant purpose of
being revenged upon the Dudlys—but sin
gular as it appeared, the innocent cause of
her hatred came to ner in America instead
of Nell crossing the Atlantic to vent hor
spite on her victim.
In his grief the young husband had not
recognized the attendant on his wife, or,
knowing her character, be would have been
As It was he was left with neither wifenor
child living, while Nell and Mag chuckled
over their triumph.
Before leaving, Lord Dudly had placed a
sum of money In Timmy’s hand with the
request that Timmy’s child should be called
“Nora”—and he had often sent her presents
of money, clothing and books.
After nis wife’s burial Lord Dudly went
into no society, but shut himself up moodily
in his large house with no companions but
his books, dogs and trusted servants.
It was only of late that he had come out
from his seclusion and entered society, and
then it was the knowledge of the utter un
worthiness of his only heir that arouses! him,
and rather than allow the title and estates
to fall into such hands he determined to
So the mansion and grounds were put in
order and thrown open, and again resound
ed with music and mirth.
Lord Dudly had become sincerely at
tached to Sir Arthur, and it was through
this affection that a warm friendship had
sprung up between himself and the Earl and
The startling resemblance of the mountain
Nora to his dead wife had set him to think
ing, and he resolved to see the young girl
and give her more advantages at an early
Lord Dudly made his arrangements for
his journey to the United States, and started
with an eagerness he had not shown for
Before sailing for America he had made
all arrangements at his home for the recep
tion of Nora should she prove worthy of his
intention of adopting her and educating her
as a lady,
He could not endure the thought that one
who bore such a striking likeness to his dear,
dead wife should be reared in poverty—if
she was not his own she resembled his own,
and he hoped she would be to him as a
daughter, and perhaps more—for fond hopes
filled his breast that this living likeness of
his wife might be won to take her place.
For the third time a noble guest alighted
at the doors of Timmy’s humble dwelling.
Timmy and Mag stared with astonish
ment as Lord Dudly, with stately bearing, ad
vanced to meet them.
It had been seventeen years since ho had
been there before, and although he was still
a handsome, elegant gentleman, yet neither
recognized the young, sorrowing husband
who had left their doors so long ago.
Mag, who had been ill, had not seen Lord
Dudly, but Timmy had, but the fair Saxon
face showed lines of care, and the silky,
curling locks were well besprinkled with sil
Stranger-though he was, Timmy bade
Lord Dudly welcome; and Mag, more gen
tle than usual, bustled about to get tho
“This is Timothy Tideout, is it not?” asked
Lord Dudly, after being seated.
“It is sir—l have the honor of bein’ that
same,” replied the old man, starting with
amazement at this grand gentleman who
knew his name.
“I am Dudly,” said that gentleman,
by way of introduction.
“What!” exclaimed Timmy, more aston
ished than polite.
Mag, frightened and nervous, stared.
“Yes, my friend—young Sir Arthur
Beaconsfield sent a picture of your daugh
ter Nora whom, yki will remember, was
born the same night as my unfortunate
babe, and I was so struck with her beauty
and singular likeness to my dear, lamented
wife I came to see her.”
“Sir who did you say?” exclaimed Tim
my, in astonishment, doubling himself up
in a squatting posture, putting his hands on
his knees and gazing into Lord Dudly’s face
with staring eyes and wide open mouth.
“Lord Dudly smiled at the ridiculous
figure before him and replied:
“Sir Arthur Beaconsfield.”
“And who may he be?” asked Timmy.
“Why, my good man! he -was the gentle
man who stopped with you and helped res
cue vour daughter.”
“He! Why he was a picter taker!” cried
Timmy, sitting on a chair and panting for
“Yes, I believe he did paint some, but he
was a lord for all that,” replied Lord Dud
ly, laughing outright at the old man’s aston
“A lord!” gasped Timmy. •
“Yes. ha was the son of one of the proud
est Earls in England—Earl Beaconsfield.”
“Oh, my!”exclaimed Timmy.
While Mag, who had just entered the
room with a plate of bread and a mug of
beer, almost dropped them in amazement.
“Mother!” cried Timmy, turning to the
astonished old woman, “our gal’s a lady!”
Mag was speechless and looked first at
Lord Dudly and then at her husband.
“Jist ter think of it, mother!—a lady! a
“Well!” replied Mag, as soon as sheeould
recover sufficient breath to sjieak.
“I allers told ye, mother, that Nora was
too good fur us, and that the Lord intended
her for something better.”
“Umph!” replied Mag, looking with a
frightened expression of countenance from
Lord Dudly to her husband.
It was the Englishman's turn now to be
“Your daughter a lady?” asked he. “May
I ask you what you mean?”
Timmy’s face brightened as he understood
his darling's good luck, and he told the story
of Sir Arthur and Nora’s marriage.
“Where are they now?” asked Lord Dud
ly, anxiously, as Timmy finished his narra
“Well, sir, they left here and traveled
some, and the last we heerd he was goin’ to
take her to England to his home.”
Ah well knew Lord Dudly what that re
ception home would be.
None knew better than he the haughty
pride of the Earl and how he would frown
upon this mesalliance—and how bitterly he
would take the interference of his plans for
his son and Lady Betty. He resolved to
hurry home and protect his favorite and the
young wife, if possible, from the Earl—and
if he could do no bettor give them a shelter
under his own roof, which he was sure they
Lord Dudly rested a night under Timmy’s
roof and then hastened home to England.
Mag, while her noble guest was in her
house, looked often at him wistfully as if she
had something to say, but she aguin re
lapsed into her usual, sullen silence.
Well would it have been for her ha/1 she
have opened her lips and confessed her sins
—muny a heartache she would have saved
the gentle girl she had learned to love and
the young husband who had so unthinkingly
made this fair lassie his bride.
After the departure of their guest, Tim
my sat most of the time on the porch smok
ing his pipe and exclaiming to himself:
“A lady! my gal areal lady—aa earl’s
The news seemed too good to be true to
him that his daughter should have such good
It never occurred to him with his unso
phisticated ruind and American ideas that
this proud family would not receive his low
born daughter—she was good enough and
beautiful enough to be an angel, and earth
born mortals would lie glad to receive hex.
Lord Dudly returned to his home to lie
again disappointed—his servants told him of
the storm Hir Arthur’s love-born marriage
had caused, and that he had been to Lord
Dudlys’ and, finding him absent, had loft a
package for him and left.
Lord Dudly was inexpressibly sorry at
this fresh disappointment, and made every
effort V) trace tlie young couple to their new
lie learned that they had gone to France,
and there all traces for the tune ceased.
Tiie nobleman opened the package left by
Sir Arthur, but finding them only the pa
pers of his disreputable relative, he locked
them in his escritoire to road another time;
had he have only done so then much misery
might have been saved.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Bough on Rata,"
Clears out rats, mice, roaches, flies, ants,
bedbugs, beetles. Insects, skunks, lack rab
bits, sparrows, gophers. 15c. At druggists,
“Bough on Itch."
“Rough on Itch” cures akin humors, erup
tions, ring- Worm, tetter, salt rheum, frosted
feat, chilplains, itch, ivy poison, barber’s
itch. 50c. jars.
“Rough on Catarrh”
Corrects offensive odors at once. Complete
cure of worst chronic cases; also unequaled
as gargle for diphtheria, sore throat, foul
“Bough on Corns."
Ask for Wells’ “Rough on Corns.” Quick
relief, complete cure. Corns, warts, bun
147 Broughton Street!
ll* Citadel of Low Prices.
Gray & O’Brien
Organized and Equipped
And Lowest Living Prices!
Introducing More Dash, More Brilliancy of
Purpose, More Power and Effect, More .
Mental Strength, and More Physical
Strength Than Ever Before.
DO YOU WiVNT IT ALEP
Dynamite reerlcss Colorcd Lawns ' Bomb
Hand 44 Soft Firish lilcaching ' Grenade
Gstllfis Ten Gun
at 5 cents.
Needle 12£c. White India Lawn I Gun
at 5 cents.
Electric tinned Torpedo
at 5 cents.
Many Other Desirable Bargains for This Week.
All we ask is an inspection,
And you will find the truth of our assertions.
"E PLURIBUS UNUM.”
NEW YORK, * SAVANNAH, AUGUSTA, COLUMBUS
CAPITAL PRIZE, $150,000.|
“HV do hereby certify that we. supervise the
arrangements f>r all the Monthly anti Semi* '
Annual Drawings of the. Jxyuisia.no, State Lot*
teru Company, and in person manage aiul con*
trol the Drawings themselves , and that the same
are conducted with honesty , fairness , and in
good faith toward all parties, and we authorize
the Company to us* this certificate , with fac
similes of our signatures attached, in its adver
JT> fh* under *ftpied Rank* and Ranker* will
pay all Prize* drawn in the I .mils ian a State. Lot
teries which may he presented at our counter*.
J. H OGLESBV, Pres. Louisiana Nat'l Bank.
PIERRE LANAUX, Pres. State Nat’l Bank.
A BALDWIN Pres. New Orleans Nat’l Bank.
CARL KOHN, Pres. Union National Bank.
Ij Over Half a Million Distributed.
LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANY.
Incorporated in JBBB for iis years by the LegflS*
lature for Educational and Charitable purposes
—with a capital of $1,000,000 to which a reserve
fund of over $550,000 has since been added.
By an overwhelming popular vote its fran
chise was ina<ie a part of the present State con*’
stitution, adopted December 9a, A. D. 1870.
The only Lottery ever voted on and indorsed>
by the people of any State.
It never scales or post nones.
Itn Grnud Single Number Drawing* take
rtlace monthly, and Die Semi-Annual Draw*
ugs regularly every •!& moiithii (June and
A SPLENDID OPPORTUNITY TO WIN
A FORTUNE. EIGHTH GRAND DRAWING,
CLASS H, IN THE ACADEMY OF MUSIOL;
NEW ORLEANS, TUESDAY, August , IHHJ
—207 111 Monthl\ Drawing.
Capital Prize, $150,000.
t&~ Notice -Tickets are Ten Dollars only.
Halves, $5; Fifths, $2; Tenths, $l.
I.IHT nr PRIZES.
1 CAPITA!. PRIZE OF $150.000... $150,00*
1 GRAND PRIZE OF 50,000.... fiO.OO#
1 GRAND PRIZE OF 80,000 ... 80,000.
2 LARGE PRIZES OF 10,000.... 20.000 C
4 LARGE PRIZES OF 5,000.... 80,000)
90 PRIZES OF 1,000 ... 20,00(8
80 PRIZES OF 500.... 25.00#
100 PRIZES OF 1500... 30,00#
800 PRIZES OF 800.... 40,00#
NX) PRIZES OF 100.... 50,00#
1,000 PRIZES OF 50 ... 60,00#
100 Approximation Prizes of s4ol s3o,nn®i
100 “ “ 800... 20,0(tt|
100 “ “ 100.... 10,00#!
2,179 Prizes, amounting: to $585,000-
Application for rates to clubs should lie mad*
only to the office of the Company in New Or
For further Information write clearly, (giving
full address. POSTAL NOTES, Express
Money Orders, or New York Exchange In ordi
nary fetter. Currency by Express (at our expensed
addressed M. A. DAUPHIN,
New Orleans, La.
or M. A. DAUPHIN,
Washington, D. C,
Address Registered Letters to
NEW OIiLEANS NATIONAL BANK,
New Orleans, L*.
DCMCM PCD That the presence of Gen
|A tl IVIC. IYI DL.lv nra ) g Reaurcg&rd and
Early, who are in eharge of the drawings, is •
guarantee of absolute fairness and integrity,
that the chances are all equal, and that no ona
cun possibly diviuu what number wilt draw a
REMEMBER that the payment of all Prizes
is UI'ARANTEED BY FOUR NATIONAL
BANKS of New Orleans, and the Tickets are
signed by the President of an Institution, whos*
chartered rights are recognized in the
Courts; therefore, beware of any imitations or
COTTON NEED WANTED.
to producers and Shippers
The southern cotton oil company
will bo ready to buy Cotton Saod by Sept.
Ist, 18H7, anil will want It shipped to our Mills ah
Atlanta and Savannah, (la., and Columbia,
H. C., whichever city Is nearest to you, by rail
iff. a FITZSIMONB Is our Traveling Agent,
and will take part in discussions as to the rela-|
five value of Cotton Seed and Cotton Seed Meat
at any agricultural meetings, If they desire it. 1
We consider this important, as there am,
many erroneous ideas about buying, selling and!
exchanging Seed for Meal.
Address oil communications to SOUTHERN
COTTON OIL COMPANY, and send your postj
office address to the mill that Is nearest you, iC
you wish us to quote you prices.
We aslt shippers to remember that it is the
erection of our Mills that will give you better j
prices this year, and aHk your Support in return.;
We refer you to the banks in the above cities!
for our financial responsibility.
SOUTHERN COTTON DIL COMPANY.
P. S. OLIVER BROS, beg to inform shipper*
that they have no connection with the "Olive*-,'
Oil Company” Mills at Columbia, H. C., and l
Cearlotte, N. C. Although these Mills will runrj
under the name of “Oliver Oil Companies, ,
they are owned by the AMERICAN COTTON
Shippers wishing to deal with the OLIVEM
BK< >B, will please sliip to SOUTHERN COTTOJT
OIL COMPANY MILLS.
Former Owners Oliver Oil Company Mills.
EDWARD LOVELL & SONS,
Iroa and Turpcntioe Took
Office: Cor. State and Whitaker streets.
Warehouse: 138 and 140 State street.
DRUGS AND MEDICINES.
Don’t Do It! Don’t Do What?
TTI7HY don’t walk our tony streets with that
t nice dress or suit of clothes on with Stain*
or Grease Spots in, to which the Savannah dusß
sticks “closer than a brother,” when
Japanese Cleansing Cream
will take them out clean as anew pin. 25c. *
bottle. Made only by
J. R. HALTIW ANGER,
At his Drug Stores, Broughton and Drayton,
Whitaker and Wayne streets.
SAVANNAH STEAM LAUNDRY,"
131 Congress Street.
Blankets and Lacs Curtains
Cleaned as Good as New.
SEE OUR NEW REDUCED PRICE UST.
VVorkL'allod lor and Delivered,