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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