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AT EBB Or TIDU.
From 11;e flam? Journal.
When all tin* *<•* is l'-rttl ed in nielli
Au<l surfs break gently on the shore,
When je ir!y mountains u-.isten white
Acrr‘ss its s:n '“th an l p.*bb!(xl floor,
jrro-ii >'.u: the ebb t slmv retreat
A while stolei! triu with solemn ren-’h,
A phn.iium band with raytl.Kijt* reach.
Affrights the watcher on the beach.
jYo.u imder-wavr* (Mthodral wan l.
A merman pri *si mavimp has sent
Ills auoi\ te, with lift*•l hand.
To warn us from the sea s extent.
When dawn*.' red wine within the east
Is 111 t>l to the morning's lip.
Iso more the message of a priest
A shattered spar from ion? lost shin
Points unwar l. anchored by the sancf:
The hi 'h titles screen it for a space
Then ebi and sway it toward ihe land
And strive to tear it from its place.
ncVatb ghostly moon and gulden sun
* Through months and years, from day to day,
Its iron fibres, old and dun.
iiefy the tides and scorn decay,
morning news library NO. *B.
ROMANCE OF RICHMOm
by WALTER M. RICHMOND.
Copyrighted, ISB7, by J. H. Estill-
CHAPTER 111.
Though at times my spirit fails me,
And the bitter teardrops fall;
Though my lot is lim'd and lo'l'ly.
Yet 1 hope—l hope through all.
Mr*. Norton.
“Do not grove despondent, my son. You
will obtain a situation soon.”
And Mrs. Paine wound her anus around
her son’s neck and gazed lovingly into his
sad, downcast face.
“I trust so, motbe>- ” replied Virgil, de
jectedly, “but I fear my experience in
Richmond has greatly shaken my faith.
TVe have been here almost threq weeks, and
r.ot the least encouragement have I received
from anybody yet, although I have trav
ersed almost the entire city in search of
employment.”
“I know it is very discouraging: but
don’t despair, Virgil, for my sake at least.
It is not like my brave boy to give way to
despondency. You are usually so hopeful.
Walt patiently upon tlie Lord, as the Scrip
tures exhort us to do, and I feel assured He
will reward with success your noble, untir
ing efforts to obtain work. Allow me to
read some words from the Bible, which I
am sure will fall like balm upon my boy’s
weary heart.”
Mrs. Paine arose and \ procured a Bible
from the book-case, and, resuming her seat
beside Virgil, read in a low. musical voice
the beautiful language of Jesus contained
in the sixth chapter oi Matthew’s Gospel.
“Now, aren’t those words comforting?”
said the lady, a3 she closed the sacred vol
ume. “Oh, how can we distrust our Heav
enly Father? I will never again doubt
Him, for He has been so near to me in my
frief, and daily my faith grows stronger as
lean upon His love ’’
Virgil was heartily ashamed that he had
given way to despondency, when his mother
was bearing her a dictions with such exem
plary patience.
“Forgive me, mother," he said, “and kiss
me good night. I will try to be more hope
ful after this. Already your words have
Strengthened me."
Mrs. Paine drew her boy to her bosom
and imprinted a kiss upo'i his lips, after
which, with a brighter face and a happier
heart than he had had for a week past, he
ascended to his room. It was after mid
night. The ringing of the towii-be'l ■. and
the firing of cannon had just proclaimed the
birth of the new year.
“Has it any happiness for me?”mused the
vouth, as he stood by the window gazing
dreamily up at the starlit heaven. “Or
will it nc-t add more sorrow to my already
full cup?”
The latter thought saddened his counten
ance, but only for a moment. The misfor
tunes of the past should not becloud the fu
ture with misgivings. He would lean en
tirely upon God and His promises, and com
mit the future to Him.
Dropping upon his knees the boy prayed
first for tue fovgi - < &ss of his sius and "for
strength in tin.: of temptation; then he
asked God’s blessing upon his mother, Mil
ton and the old servants; and, lastly, he
prayed that he would soon obtain some
profitable employment.
The '‘peace that passeth all understand
ing” fell like balm upon his troubled spirit,
and, rising from his knees, he sought his
bed, softly repeating tiie words of the
Psalmist —"The Lord is iny shepherd; I shall
not want.”
The sun was streaming into his room when
he awoke the next morning. He had slept
later than usual, and, hastily dressing him
self, he descended to the sitting room where
his mother and Milton were awaiting liis
appearance.
“A happy New-Year to my lazy son "said
Mrs. Paine', kindly, as Virgil entered her
presence.
“The same to you, mother and brother
mine,” he replied. “I am sorry I slept so
late. Milton, you ought to have awakened
me when vou arose.”
“Well, X hated to ’sturb you so, brother,
’cause you've been looking so tired here late
ly,” said the lad.
“You are a good, considerate little fel
low,” and Virgil laid his hand caressingly
upon his brother’s head.
At this moment the beii rang, and the trio
passed into the dining room, where they
found a hot, delicious breakfast spread.
Old Jerry and Rachel gave them a warm
Ne%v Year’s greeting, and the former waited
ui>oii them throughout the meal with as
much dignity as he had ever done in the
palmiest days of the Paines.
"Uncle Jerry,” said Mrs. Paine, after
breakfast, “wouldn’t you and mammy like
to go with us to church this morning ?’’
"Is yer gwine to meetin’, sho’ ’imff,” cried
the old man, with a delightful grin.
“ ’Course, Miss Mary, de ole ’otiian ana me
am always ready to go to de house of God.”
“You act as f you were surprised,” said
Mrs. Paine, smiling faintly. “I am really
ashamed of my heathenishness, undo Jerry;
but it is not indifference that has kept me
at homo on Sundays. I shrink so from
publicity niul the possibilty of meeting per
sons I have known in the past. However, I
am determined to conquer this timidity. I
feel I must attend church this beautiful New
Year's day.”
With these words Mrs. Paine and berchil-
(Iren went to their respective rooms to make
their toilets, and quite a handsome appear
ance they all mado when an hour later,
they started forth to church. Mrs. Paine
was attired in a rich suit of mourning.
Milton wore a nicely-litting suit of black,
which was highly liecotniug to his fair,
boyish beauty. Virgil, too, was ntt ired in
black, and looked as he always did —neat,
grave and handsome. There was never vis
ible in his dress the least taint of foppery.
He never dressed in a manner he thought
would attract attention. His modest nature
shrank from anything so vulgar. He never
combed his hair after the fashion of dan
dies—his brow was too high ami uoble to
be covered by a mass of ert’eminute bangs or
“scallops.” He never walked with a cane
lie had not yet grown so decrepit as to re
quire the assistance of such an article.
It was u clear, cold day. The streets were
thronged with [xjoplo, most of whom were
hurrying to some house of worship. After
n brisk walk of fifteen minutes, the Paines
reached a chuch of their faith —a large mas
sive structure- on Broad street —in which
Mra. Paine hud worshiped years ago when
attending school in Richmond. fhe con
gregation was singing the opening hvmn—
those soul-inspiring words: “Nearer My Hod
to Thee.” Old Jerry and aunt Rachel as
cended the gallery stairs with several other
darkey worshipers. Mrs. Paine und her
children remained in the vestibule until the
singing had ceased ami the thundering
tones of the vast orgun had died away.
Then Vtrail soitiv o'lonod the door, and the
1 iiree passed into tli? edifice, which was filled
almost to overflowing. A gentleman mid
way the aisle arose and courteously gave his
seat to Mrs. Paine, ami the usher, after
great difficulty, procured seats for the boys
near the pulpit. Virgil had scarcely seated
himself when his eyes full upon the name of.
the renter of the pew —"Phillip C. Morriss.”
He turned, and at the farther end of the
pew behold his old college-mate, Charlie
Morriss, sitting beside a fair, beautiful girl
of about 10.
Virgil bowed to his friend, and then
turned his attention to the vouug minister,
who had just closed the Bible before him
and stood repeating his text—those sublime
words of Revelation: “And one of the
elders answered,' saying unto me. What are
these which are arrayed in white robes I and
whence came they? And 1 said unto him,
Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me,
Th’ se are they which came out of great
tribulation, and have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the
Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne
of God and serve Him day and night in the
temple, and He that sittoth on the throne,
shah dwell among them. They shall hun
ger no more, neither thirst any more;
neither shall the sun light on them, nor any
heat. Fortlie Lamb which is in the midst
of the throne shall feed them, and Shall lead
them unto living fountains of water; and
God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes.” ■
Charmed by the minister’s eloquent ora
tory, as well as by his.youtful, winning
countenance, Virgil never once moved his
eyes from the pulpit from the announce
ment of the text to the close of the dis
course.
It was a sermon of great power—simple
and comforting, yet full of grandeur aud
beauty.
At its conclusion the quartette in the
choir gallery arose and began to sing the
hymn beginning—
“ Who are these in bright array?”
in which the vast congregation heartily
joined. The singing ended, the regular
pastor of the church—a venerable old gentle
man—raised his hands and pronounced the
benediction, after w’hieh tee congregation
slowly dipersed amid sweet, joyous strains
of music.
Charlie came forward and grasped Vir
gil’s hand, exclaiming:
“How are you, mv friend? lam glad to
see you in Richmond. How do you like our
minister?”
“Your minister?” asked Virgil. “I thought
you attended the Episcopal church, Char
lie r
‘‘Oh, I do,” returned the boy, laughing,
“But you seel am no bigot, though people say
Episcopalians are more bigoted than any
other body’of Protestants. I repeat : How
do vou like tho young gentleman who
preached hero to-day ?”
“I like him splendily. I never heard a
more touching or eloquent discourse. I was
fairly spellbound. Who is he, Charlie? Is
he a relation of yours? You and he bear a
striking resemblance to eaeh other. ”
“You think so?” queried Charlie, yvith a
mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “Quite
a compliment, Virgil. He is my cousin, the
Rev. John Bunyan Morriss, and I assure you
I un immensely proud of so gifted and
pious a cousin. Allow me to introduce vou
1o his sister, Miss Pauliue Morriss, Mr.
Virgil Paine.”
While the two youths were talking the
girl was standing at tho farther end of the
!>ew. As the boys turned toward her she
blushed deeply, and, coming forward, ac
knowledged the introduction with a modest
bow.
“I am bappv to meet you. Miss Morriss,”
said Virgil, with that cordiality so charac
teristic of the country-bred, “as 1 have
heard Charlie speak so often of his cousin
Pauline. ”
“V ho is this little fellow?” inquired Char
lie, placing his hand on Milton’s head. “Is
this your brother of whom you used to
speak at college* He is a bright, sweet
looking child, isn't he, Pauline?”
The girl bowed assent.
“I don't blame you for being proud of
your little brother, Virgil,” continued
Charlie.
Miss Morriss was struck with tiie child’s
beauty, and taking his hand in her own
said:
“You are a sweet little boy. Will you
not give me a kiss?”
Mil ton was not a presumptuous child;
yet, like most children, he loved to be pet
ted and caressed, aud without the least hesi
tation he raised his pretty red mouth to re
caive a kiss from the young lady.
“You have a lot of cheek to kiss a young
man before this largo crowd.” a,d Charlie,
assuming a look of the blankest astonish
ment at his cousin's conduct. Then turning
to Virgil, in a matter-of-fact way he said:
“Well, my friend, you must come to see
me before” my holiday is over. Can you
not?”
“When will you return to college, Char
lie?” asked Virgil, drearily, as there aro.se
before his mind the grand old college, from
which fate had driven him out into a world
of toil and poverty.
“Wednesday. Come to-morrow aud we
shall have a delightful time together. You
can easily find my house. I live on west
Franklin street near the old fair groan Is.
Anybody will tell you where Mrs. Ed
mund Morriss lives. Can you not come,
Virgil ?’’
“I will try. Good-by, Charlie. Good
by. Miss Morriss.”
With a bow to each, Virgil and Milton
started down the aisle.
CHAPTER IV.
Hearts that are great beat never loud;
They muffle their music when they come:
They hurry away from the t.-imaging crowd
W ith bended brows and lips half Utimb.
—Abram ./. Ryan.
“Is that young gentleman a college-mate
of yours, Char hep inquired Pauline Mor
ris* of her cousin as they w ended their way
home from church.
“Virgil Paine? Yes; at least, he was last,
session and the beginning of tlii;; but be
was called home about the iirst of O itober
by tlie death of his father, and has never
returned. I presume he lias left college, as
be wrote Prof. Carroll and one of the stu
dents that ho was coming to this city to try
to got into business. By the way, I won
der if he has succeded! Poor fellow His is
by no moans an enviable lot. Mr. Paine was
a notorious gambler, and all of his wealth
went by degrees to gratify his passion for
gambling. His family, I understand, are
reduced almost to penury. I feel so sorry
for them, especially for Virgil. He is a
good, noble-hearted boy, and so thoroughly
uuselrish and generous in his disposition and
s) modest and gentle in his demeanor that
one cannot help loving him. He was a
great favorite at college. Besides, he is a
boy of decided talent. He w-on the fli-st
honors in all the classes of the
junior department last year, and would
doubtless have been as successful in the in
termediate classes this session if ho could
have remained at college. It is a pity he
cannot finish his education.”
“it is a pity—a groat pity,” said Paulino,
who was becoming greatly interested in our
hero. “His countenance impressed me so
favorably. Has he not a noble, intellectual
face?” ,
The serious expression of Charlie s coun
tenance iustantly vanished, and, turning
his mischievous eyes full upon his cousin, he
burst into a loud, merry laugh, showing a
splendid set of teeth as his lips parted.
“Fallen in love, eh i” he chuckled. “I saw
your eyts constantly wandering during the
service toward the other end of the pew.
But 1 couldn’t imagine what the attraction
was. I had no idea it was Virgil. And you
think he has a noble, intellectual face, do
you? You aro dead gone, Paulie.”
"I wish to hear none of your vulgar
slang. Master Morris*,” said the girl, with a
flash off her violet eyes. “Your professors
sumly do not pav much attention to rhetoric,
or else vou would be more chaste in your
utterances. lam not in love with your
friend. lam merely struck with Ins coun
tenance. It is seldom one sees in this gen
eration of fast, effeminate-faced coxcombs
an intellectually handsome young man like
vour college-mate. ”
J “You are right, Paulie,” said Charlie,
“and it is seldom, too, one fluds a person as
tf-; irom i!'ncit - ul *“ Al ‘
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 1(1, 1887.
though endowed with a handsome face, a
graceful, magnificent form, and a brilliant
intellect, yet he moves along perfectly’ un
conscious of these gifts, while mast other
boys in possession of them are oaten up
with conceit and arrogance. Although de
scended on his paternal side from the Cav
aliers and on his maternal side from the
good and illustrious Roger Williams, ho is
too geuuine an aristocrat to boast of liis an
cestry. He places little or no value upon
birth or social position if individual worth
be wanting. He puts himself upon equality
with auy person however humble may be
that person’s origin, if the latter possesses
any intrinsic merit of his own. Virgil is
not bold. He never dresses, speaks, or acts
in a manner he thinks wall attract atten
tion. Though manly and courageous to a
wonderful degree, yet, with the modesty of
a girl, he .shrinks from publicity. Oh,
Pauiie, there’s something so gentle, so mod
es;, about Virgil that the beautiful words of
Father Ryan always recur to my mind
whenever I think of the boy:
“ ‘Silently, shrvdowly, some lives go,
And the sound of their voioes is all unheard,
Or if beard at all, Mis as taint as the (low
Of lieautiful waves which no storm hath
stirred,
Deep lives as these
As the pearl-stream seas!
“ ‘Calmly and lowly some hearts beat,
And none may know that they beat at all.
They muffle their music whenever they meet
A few in a hut < r a crowd in u hall.
Great h -aids those—
God only knows!’
I often wish that Florine, when she has at
tained womanhood, would meet Virgil, and
that an attachment would spring up between
and that such an attachment would eventual
ly terminate in a union. But 1 fear he could
never fancy such a girl as she. She is like
her brother—shallow-minded. I wish sho
were as good aud a* talented as you, Pau
iie.”
I “You are not shallow-minded, Charlie,”
said M iss Morriss, not heeding his compli
mentary allusion to himself. “You are al
ways under-valuing your own merits and
talents. In this respect, I think, you are
like your young friend, Mr. Paine.”
They haul reached Pauline's home —an ele
gant, old-fashioned house, situated in the
most aristocratic portion of the city.
“Won’t you come in, Charlie, and spend
the afternoon with us?” asked the young
lady, as they paused at the gate.
"No, thauk you, Pauiie. Mother and
Florine would be displeased if 1 were to
take dinner from home to-day. It is the
last New Year, you know, we shall all dine
together for five years or more. Oh, dear
me, how lonely I shall be when they are
gone! I fear I shall die of melancholia be
fore a year has rolled away. I must go. I
want to reach tSt. James’church before the
dismission of tho congregation. Florine
lias some foppish upstart always at her side,
and I am resolved to put a stop to her for
wardness. 1, and I alone will escort her
home to-day. Last Sunday night she
came from church with three of these so
ciety pests, and so severely did I reprimand
her that mother threatened to punish me if
1 did not cease my tyranny, as she called it.
Au revoir, cousin mine.”
And, with a smile and a wave of his
hand, Charlie started down the street, hum
ming one of the hymns he had heard at
church that morning.
"Poor boy!” said Pauline to herself, as
her eves followed him for a block, or two.
“How can aunt Nannie and Florine leave
Inin for so long a time? Mamma cannot bear
tiie least separation from either of her chil
dren. But X presume people are differently
constituted, and there is certainly a differ
ence between aunt Nannie and mamma.
Mamma is a gentle, Christian woman,
while aunt Nannie is a cold, haughty w oman
of the world, and poor Florine, I am sorry
to say, inherits her mother’s shallow,
worldly nature. But, thank heaven, Char
lie is not iik'them —hois a Morriss. He in
herits uncle Edmund’s kind, noble dispo
sition,” and with these thoughts Pauline
tripped lightly np tho walk, mounted the
porch steps, and opening the great, massive
door, sped with the elasticity of a young
deer down tiie long hall and into the library,
where, before a cheerful fire, sat her father
—a genial-faced, middle-aged gentleman—
dozing over his church paper.
"How do you feel now, papa?” inquired
the young lady, as she stooped and pressed
her warm red ID s to Ins.
The sound of her voice instantly aroused
Mr. Morriss, and. looking Up wit h ineffable
tenderness into the fair, sweet face of his
daughter, h said:
“I am better, thank you. my dear. How
unusually rosy and pretty papa’s little girl
looks to-day! You are destined to break
many a heart, aren’t you, little one? Where
are Bertha and Bunyan?”
“They are coming Charlie was at our
church to-day an i came to the gate with
me. That is why lam home before mamma
and brother. Oh, papa, you ought to have
heard Banyan’s sermon to-day. It was the
most eloquent discourse I ever listened to.
I am sure he will become as famous a
preacher as was the great and good mission
ary whose name lie bears.”
just here the door opened, and Mrs.
Morriss and her son entered the room.
The former was a handsome, weil-pre-
served la ly of about 45, and despite her
magnificent apparel and aristocratic bear
ing, her tender, motherly face spoke elo
quently of a nature that could warm with
love and sympathy toward the humblest of
her fellow-creatures.
Bunyan was a splendid specimen of young
manuood. He was fair complexioned, and
very much like h:s mother, while Pauline,
though also fair, resembled her father.
“How are you now, father?” asked the
voung minister, advancing toward his pa
ternal parent.
“Better, thank you, my son,” replied Mr.
Morriss. “I trust I shall be able to go to
the office to-morrow, i wish now I had
gone to chucli despite my indisposition.
Pauline tells me you delivered an excellent
sermon —the best she ever heard.”
“Now, if my little sister had heard any
other minister preach tiie same sermon, she
would probably have thought it only an or
dinary discourse. By the way, Pauiie,”
said Bunyan (who, with the instinct of a
modest young man. invariably changed the
topic of conversation when it savored of
complimentary allusion to himself), “who
are those boys that satin our pew to-day?
Aren’t they strangers? I don't think I ever
saw them before.
“The older one is Virgil Paine, one of
Charlie’s college assciates, and the younger
one is Virgil’s brother, Milton Paine. Isn’t
Milton a dear little fellow?”
“Yes; he is a very lovely child; but I am
more impressed with his brother’s face,
which is indicative of a rarely deep and
manly nature. Ido not profess to be a phys
iognomist, but 1 am sure anybody who lias
devoted his time to the reading of human
facos would say that I had correctly read
this young gentleman’s countenance.”
“Paine! Paine! What a familiar name!”
thought Mr. Morriss, as he listened to his
children’s conversation. “I wonder if they
are related to my old friend Frank Paine?
Poor Frank!”
CHAPTER V.
Methtnks I feel this youth’s perfection
Steal, with an invisible and subtle stealth,
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, lot it be.
— tihakeepearc.
Immediately after breakfast Monday
morning Virgil continued Ills search for
employment. Down Broad street and up
Main he wended his way, stopping here
aud there at some store he had overlooked in
his lormer rounds and visiting through
mistake several business nouses ut which ne
had applied before for a situation. Bat at
ovory place he met with U 1 success. No one
desired his s Mrvices. The stores were all well
supplies! with bookkeepers, salesman and
collectors.
“How unfortunate la.m.’ muttered the
poor boy, as he sauntered merliauically
along the busy thoroughfare. “Shall I
have to resort at last to the mechanical
world for a livelihood C
And he sighed, for he well knew the so
ciety in which his family hat always moved
debarred the mechanic from its circle.
Could heliear the slights he would surely
receive from his former associates if ho
wore to joiu tho working class? He feared
no diminution in tho frumushlo of Raver
Penn, for the Quaker boy had been reared
in a home of toil and poverty. But would
Charlie —the aristocratic Charlie Morriss—
recognize a son of toil as his equal? Surely
Charlie had more nobility of heart to suub
one because of his occupation.
“I must get work of some kind,” thought
Virgil, “or else we shall all soon be reduced
to absolute want. The hone I once cher
ished of becoming a professional man is
dead—faded with other di earns of my boy
hood. My efforts to secure a position m trio
mercantile world have all proved fruit
less. There remains but one thing for me
to do. I must seek employment in tho
working sphere. I will not be above hon
est toil. I will not regard the slights and
sneers of a few shallow-minded people. I
will not care for the opinion of society,
since it has done nothing to pre
vent my taking this contemplated
step. Hard toil, it is said, roughens
and soils the visage and renders
hands unfit for a person of refinement to
touch. But I will not heed what they say.
So long as I ktep my heart and body ua
soiled, it doesn't mat ter about my bauds or
face. I will lay aside all pride and toil
bravely, unselfishly —in a blacksmith-shop,
ii I can get nothing to do elsewhere—for
Milton’s sake. He shall have what fate
denies me—a finished education. He shall
shine in the intellectual world, if he have
the intellect. Oh, how sweet it will be by
and by, when he will have reachesi the pin
nacle of human knowledge to point to him
and proudly claim: ‘He is my brother!’
How gloriously shall Ibo rewarded then
for the years of toil aud sacrifice! I will
live for him—not for myself! God bless
him—my bright, beautiful brother! I
could bear anything for his sako! Hei'o is a
carpenter-shop. Shall I enter?”
He halted for a moment, undecided
whether he would enter or not. Then, man
fully, he opened the door and walked into
the shop.
"Are you the foreman of the establish
ment. sir?” he inquired of a man whose self
important air was sufficient proof of his
"bosship.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the pompous fellow,
in affable tones, thinking Virgil had come
to have some work done. “Want some
buiiomg or repairing done sir? Walk
round here to the tire and warm yourself,”
and the speaker, liis race wreathed in
smiles, placed a chair before the stove.
“Thank you, sir; but I do not care to sit
down. Do you want a boy to learn the
trade! ’
“No,”said,hls lordship, the affable expres
sion fading instantly from his features.
“Ain't got ’nough work to keep what hands
I got agoing. Spect I’ll lie blcoge.i to put
off two or three Saturday night Judging
from your appearance and your tvatcu and
chain, I was iu hopes you was a customer
when you come in here.”
"I am sorry, sir, my visit rais9d false
hopes.”
And, politely bowing to the coarse, pom
pous man, Virgil left me shop.
He made several more efforts to get
work, but without success; an 1, at last,
tired and dispirited, he resolved to return
home, lie changed Ins mind, however, as
he turned int * Franklin street.
“1 will go to see Charlie,” he thought.
“An hour or two of his cheerful society
will do me good. Good company is often a
better specific for despondency than asa
foetida or any other drug.”
He continued ids walk up Frankiin street
until he came within sight, of the tall,
pr.son-'iiko fence surrounding tiie ol i fair
grounds (since converted into Monroe
Dark). Pausing before a large, elegant
mansion, he askerl a boy if he could direct
him to Mr. Morriss’ house.
“You are standing right before it, sir,”
was the child’s reply.
Virgil thanked the little fellow for his in
formation, and, mounting the front step,
rang tiie bell. The door was opened by a
mulatto man, to whom the youth handed
his card.
“Oh, you’se Mr. Paine,” cried the man,
reading the name printed upon the bit of
pasteboard. “Mr. Charlie’s been looking
for you all the morning, and an hour or
two ago, thinking you warn’t coming, went
out t iding with hri mother. But he told
ni9 if you should cSme while ho was away,
I was to make you stay until he comes
back.” ,
“When do you think he will return?”
“It won’t be long, sir. Walk iu. Walk
in and wait for uiin.”
With these words, the mulatto ushered
our hero into the parlor. The sound of
voices convinced Virgil that the room had
other occupants, and, turning, he beheld
only a few feet from him, near the folding
doors, Pauliue Morriss, the young girl to
whom he had been introduced the day be
fore, standing by the side of a beautiful,
dark-complexioned girl of not more than 15
years, who was seated at a piano, with hor
slender fingers gliding mechanically over
the keys.
“Excuse me young ladies,” he stam
mered, somewhat confused. "I trust I am
not an intruder.”
Pauline saw his confusion, and, though
embarrassed herself, resolved, with the in
stinet of a well-bred person, to put his em
barrassment to flight. •
“Certainly not,” she said, smiling. “My
cousin has finished practicing. Florine—
turning to the girl beside her—this is Mr.
Paine, one of Charlie’s friends.”
As Florine turned to acknowleged the in
troduction, Virgil was struck with the girl’s
dark, Indian-like beauty, which stood out
in prominent contrast with tiie fair loveli
ness of her cousin, and a strange sensation
stirred his young heart.
“Can you play, Mr. Paine?” asked Pau
line, at a loss for a topic upon which to con
verse.
“Yes, Miss Morriss,” he answered, but at
that moment he heartily wished he could
have replied in tiie negative.
| “Can you not favor us with some music?”
continued Pauline.
I He hesitated.
“Oh, please, sir,” pleaded Florine, turning
| her beautiful black eyes upon him, aud
: smiling at the same time in the most bo
i witching manner.
Those eyes and that smile were more than
Virgil could resist, and, rising from his
seat, he took the one she hail vacated.
“I trust you will be kind enough to par
don all blunders,’ he said, his face as crim
son as a rose. “I haven’t performed upon
an instrument since last summer.”
“Oh, certainly,” said the girls, simulta
neously.
Not until he had taken his scat at the pi
ano did the poor boy fully realize the em
barrassment of liis position. Wnat should
he play ? Surely in bis depression he could
not stoop to such mockery as to render any
light or joyous music. At length, how
ever, his embarrassment wore off. He
seemed to grow oblivious of the presence of
the two girls, and, touching the keys with a
grace that seemed perfectly natural, he
burst forth in the sweet, plaiutive hymn of
Muhlenberg—the language of his, sad,
weary heart —
“I would not live always: I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er tho
way;
The few lucid mornings that dawn on us here
Are followed by gloom or beclouded with
fear."
tTO BE CONTINUED. ]
"Worth Knowing.
Mr. W. H. Morgan, merchant, Lake City,
Fla., was taken with a severe Cold, attended
! with a distressing Cough ami running Into
Consumption in its first stages. He tried
i many so-called popular cough remedies and
I steadily grow worso. Was reduced in flesh,
J had difficulty in breathing and was unable
to sleep Finally tried Dr. King’s New Dis
covery for Consumption and found inune
diate relief, and after using about a half
dozen bottles found himself well, and has
had no return of the disease. No other rem
edy can show so grand a record of cures us
; Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consump
tion. Guaranteed to do just what is claimed
for it. Trial bottle flow at Lippman Bros. ’
drug store.
The Blue Grass Country.
John H. Jones, Tuttle, Ky., writes: I have
been selling medicine for seventeen years.
I pronounce Dr. Biggers’ Huckleberry Cor
dial the best I evtA sold. It gives *joy U)
everv ujurhsi'.
DRY GOODS, ETC.
SPECIAL
ANNOUNCEMENT!
OPENING OF
Fall and Winter Goods
AT
tola 4 Dower’s,
SUCCESSORS TO
B. F. McKenna & Cos.,
137 BROUGHTON STREET.
ON MONDAY MORNING
We will exhibit the latest novolii s in
Foreign and Domestic Dress Goods,
Black and Colored Silks,
Black Cashmeres and Silk Warp Henriettas,
Black Nun’s Veiling,
Suitable for Mourning Veils.
Mourning Goods a Specialty.
English Grapes and Crape Veils,
Embroideries and Laces.
Housekeepers’ Goods
Irish Tab!* Damasks, Nankins and Towels of
the best manufacture, ana selected especially
with a view to durability. Counterpanes and
Table Spreads, Cottou Sheetings, Shirtings and
Pillow Casings in all the best brands
Hosiery, Glove*, Handkerchiefs— Fbwnlarly-
Diade French and English Hosiery for Indies
and children, Palbrigyun Hosiery, Gentlemen's
and Boys' Half Hose, Ladies' Black Silk
Hosiery, Kid Gloves.
Ladies' and Gentlemen's Linen Handker
chiefs in a great variety of fancy prints, .and
full lin*s o. hemmed-stitched and plain hem
med White Handkerchiefs.
Gentlemens Laundrier* and Unlaundrted
Shirts, Bays’ Shirts, Gentlemen's Collars and
Cuffs.. La lies' Collars and Cuffs.
Corsets 'lmported and Domestic, in great
variety, and in the most graceful and health
approved shapes.
Vests Ladies', Gentlemen’s and Children's
Vests in fall and winter weights.
Parasols -The latest novelties in Plaiu and
Trimmed Parasols. .
Orders All orders carefully and promptly
executed, and the same care and attention
given to the smallest as to the largest commis
sion. Samples sent free of charge, and goods
guaranteedto be fully up to the quality shown
in sample.
Sole agent for McCALL'S CELEBRATED
BAZAR GLOVE-FITTING PATTERNS. Any
pattern sent post free on receipt of price and
measure.
ORPHAN & DOONER.
AT I. A. DUMAS’
YOU WILL FIND
\N elegant line Fancy Dress Braids. A beauti
ful assortment Passementeries.
All Silk 40-inch Black Lace Flouncing $2 50
yard.
All Silk 27-inch All Over Black Lace to match
$1 75 yard.
Full assortment Ruehings sc. yard up.
Corsets, all grades, 85c. pair up.
Handkerchiefs, all grades, 25c. dozen up
Neat assortment in the late “novelties,”
Girdles.
Full line Ladies’ and Misses’ Hose 10c. pairup.
Try our 4-Button Stitched Back Kid Gloves,
guaranteed, 21 pair.
Job lot samples Hair, Tooth, Nail and Clothes
Brushes at New York cost price.
Full line Gents' Furnishing Goods.
Desirable goods at popular prices a(>
H. A. DUMAS’,
23 BTJLT-z ST.
PIANOS. ______
MHyNSI
|
THE above is ono of our fine Carved Pianos,
manufactured by G. HEYL. Fu’l 7-octaves
th’ee strings to ear note. Italian Walnut
Cases. Finest Mirror PolLh.
Our latest acquisition, E. ROSENKRANZ,
Dresden, make. 7-octaves. Three strings to
each note. Cases ebonizod and gold.
The above imported instru
ments warranted for
six years.
>v 1 , ■■ - ■ •
Prices cheaper than the common cheap do
mestic Pianos.
Quality oi material, tone and durability un
surpassed.
y ('•
Schreiner’s Music House.
PLCMBEK.
l. a. McCarthy,
Successor to Chas. E. Wakefield.
PLUMBER, (iAS and STEAM FITTER,
street, SAVANNAH, UA.
n W7JL
PRY goods.
After the Fire!
The undersigned respectfully begs to announce
to his many friends and the public
at large that we will
RE-OPEM OUR mm
AT THE OLD STAND
153 Broughton Street,
—ON—
Wednesday, October sth.
WE PROPOSE TO SURPRISE THE PUBLIC IN SHOWING THEM
The Handsomest,
The Most Elegant,
The Newest,
The Most Stylish
GOODS EVER SHOWN IN SAVANNAH OR ELSEWHERE,
AND AT
PRICES SO LOW
As to enable every one almost to wear the
BEST GOODS IN THE MARKET.
PLEASE REMEMBER
We Have No Old Stock to Work Off.
We respectfully ask the public to pay us a visit, whether
they wish to purchase or not, and we will take pleasure in
proving to them that we have not exaggerated.
David Weisbein.
FURNITURE AND CARPETS.
EMIL A. SCHWARZ,
Furniture & Carpets.
New Designs,
Elegant Assortment,
Low Prices and
No Misrepresentations.
Relying upon our hitherto successful method of offering all grades of goods at low
figures, we now offer our fall stock of FURNITURE aud CARPETS with this end in
View, having devoted much thought and labor to the selection of vine to meet the varied
requirements of our trade. The improvement in our selection o’ goods is marked and
■will be apparent to you upon a careful inspection of our goods.
EMIL A. SCHWARZ,
IRON WORKS.
KEHOE’S IRON WORKS
Broughton Street, from Reynolds to Randolph Streets-
Sa-vannali, - - Georgia.
CASTING OF ALL KINDS AT LOWEST~POSSIBLE PRICES.
THE RAPIDLY INCREASING DEMAND FOR OUR
SUGAR MILLS AND PANS
a a IT AS induced us to manufacture them on a more extensive scale than
Al ever. To that end no pains or expense has been spared to maintain
KW their HIGH STAN ART) OF EX< 'ELL,INC E.
H These Mills nre or the BEST MATERIAL AND WORKMANSHIP, with
Kg heavy WROUGHT IRON SHAFTS (made long to prevent danger to the
B V operator), and rollers of the best charcoal pig iron, all turned up true.
,'f <Aj They are heavy, strong and durable, run light and even, and ore guaran
te,'u capable of grinding the heaviest fully matured ’-rtira .
R'Jv'iMiliSySSsffiiaSS All our Mills are fully warranted for one year. Safty 9
iP'raW <mr P® lll * being east with Lie bottoms down,
BBgnS&JBgXsHUI |**' durability and ur.fonnltv of MHsuslSjSr
tlilekuess EAR SUPERIOR TO THOSE MADE IN
y W Having uusuriiassed facilities,
WE GUARANTEE OUR PRICES TO BE AS LOW AS ANY OFFERED.
A Large Stock Always on Hand for Prompt Delivery.
Wm. Kehoe & Cos.
N. B.—The name “ KEHOE’B IKON WORKS.' Is cast on all our Mills and Pans.
SASH, DOORS, BLINDS, ETC.
Vale Royal Manufacturing Cos.
/ 0
H. p. SMART QAXT A NTM AFT H- A t. c. brvan.
President. OA V XXiN AN xiLl, LJXI. Seet'y and Tree*
LUMBER.
CYPRESS, OAK, POPLAR, YELLOW PINE, ASH, WALNUT.
MANUFACTURERS of RASH. DOORS. BLINDS, MOULDINGS of all kind* and descriptions
CASINGS and TRIMMINGS for all classes of dwelling*, PEA’S and P W ENDS of our own
design ami manufacture, T RN.<ID aul SCR ILL BALUSTERS, ASH HANDLES for Cotton
Hooks, CEILING, FLOORING, WAIXSCOTTING, SHINGLES.
Warehouse and Up-Town Office: West Broad and Broughton St%
FycLory and Mills: Adjoining Ocean Steamship Co.’s Wharves;
5