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iB TWO MYSTERIES. We km lllll what it is, dear, this sleep so deep JsUll. The foi* hands, the awful calm, the cheek so I* and chill; The ljtbat will uot lift again, though we may <1 and call. The s a S'* white solitude of peace that set s over all. We kv not what it means, dear, this desolate art pa in. The fad to take our daily way and walk in it ,-ain. \y e k'v uot to what sphere the loved who ■ ;ve us go, Kor **y we're left to wonder still, nor why we id not know. But is we know: Our loved and lost, if they should come this day Shod come and ask us, "What is life?” not one of us could say. f Bitfs a mystery, as deep as ever death can be; Yeoh! how sweet it is to us—this life we live and see! Tb> might they say—these vanished ones and blessed is the thought, “gdeath is sweet to us, beloved! though we may tell you naught; V may not tell it to tire quick, this mystery of death— may not tell us, if ye would, the mystery of breath.” ne child whe enters life comes not with knowl edge or intent, those who enter death must go as little chil dren sent. othing is known But I believe that God is overhead, uid aside is to the living, so death is to the dead. Many Mapks I)odge. morning news library no. 88. HUMANCE OF lUCIIMONl). BY WALTER M. RICHMOND. Copyrighted, 1887, by J. H. Estill. CHAPTER VII. pops take a world of pains To prove that bodies may exist sans brains; The former so fantastically dressed, The latter's absence may be safely guessd. —Park Benjamin. With a happy heart and an elastic step Virgil started immediately after breakfast Tuesday morning for Mr. Morriss’ office. As he was hurrying down Maine street he heard someone eall his name, and, turning quickly around, saw Mr. Pitce approaching him from the opposite side of the street. Mr. Price, it will be remembered, was a clerk in Mr. Morriss’ office. “Good morning, Paine!” said the young man, extending his hand to Virgil. “Are you on your way to the office?” “Yes. sir.” “Well, if you have no objection, we’ll go down together.” “I should be *' ~ sir, to have your company.” Virgil was of a reserved nature, and it was only under the influence of congenial company that hi . reserve meltel away. Price was a lively, impulsive young man— indeed, just such a person .to make a re served boy feel at his eg*-* Linking his arm in Virgil’s, he entered at once into a lively conversation, and soon the two young men were chatting with the freedom which congeniality inspires. After gaining a knowledge of each other’s personal liistory, the conversation turned upon Mr. Morriss. "You are to be congratulated, Virgil, upon having gotten in the employ of Mr. Morriss,” said Price. “A more perfect gen tleman thaii he cannot be found. He is a gentleman in every sense of the word—a high-toned Christian man. He is upright in all his dealings, courteous to both rich and poor, indulgent to those he employs, al ways walling to assist the needy, and ever ready to throw the mantle of charity over the weaknesses of his fellow-creature. In short, he is one of nature’s nobleman. He loves young people, particularly boys. If you are ambitious, I know of no one who would more cheerfully assist you to elevate yourself than Mr. Morriss. He educated one of the most prominent young physi cians in the city. This doctor, when a boy, attended the Sabbath school in which Mr. Morriss was a teacher, and, pleased with the lad’s honest, intelligent face, and aseer taing, upon inquiry, that the boy was tal ented, and desirous of obtaining a classical education, but that his parents, on account of poverty, were unable to gratify his thrist for knowledge, Mr. Morriss, in the largeness of his heart, sent the boy to Rich mond College and afterward to the Medical College of Virginia, defraying his entire expenses at both institutions. Mr. Morriss fen* done many other noble deeds, some of Which we shall never know, for all his good deeds are done in a quiet, unostentatious manner. I shall never forget his kindness to me. Homeless and almost friendiess, I came to this city from Fauquier county sev eral years ago, and on applying to' him, ■without any recommendations whatever, for a situation, he kindly gave me one. I have been in his employ now near six years, and during that time he has acted like a father toward me. But he isn’t an iota kinder to me than he is to the other clerks. He treats us all as if we wero his sons. He seems to forget that we are his employes.” On reaching the office the young men found their employer seated before the fire perusing the morning paper. Mr. Morriss rarely ever came to his office before 1* or 10 o’clock;but this morning lie had comedown earlier than was his custom to give Virgil instructions, so that the youth could enter at once upon his clerical duties. “Good morning, Courtney. Goal morn ing, Virgil,” said the tobacconist, returning the salutations of the young men, "I am glad to sec you together, and trust you will become fast friends.” When Virgil had divested himself of his overcoat, Mr. Morriss led him to a desk, placed before hnn a set of new books, in which to begin accounts for the now year, and, after giving him instructions with which to proceed with his work, turned to Price and said: “Courtney, I have some important busi ness on hand to-clay, and in my absence I commit everything into your hands. If Virgil wishes to know anything, you will kindly give him the information he needs. Good morning, Courtney. Good morning, Virgil.” And with a wave of his hand to each the gentleman left the office. As he passed out Mr. Walker caine in. The hitter was a young man of slender build aud dark complexion, and judging from his beardless, youthful face, could not have been more than 20 years of age. He bowed to Virgil an’d Courtney as he entered, and, taking off his overcoat and hat, went quietly to work. About twenty minntes later Mr. Brown, or “Fancy Brown,” as he was familiarly called, sauntered into the office with tnat self-important air which distinguishes the dandy from the sounder element of human ity. Ho was attired as usual in the "height of fashion,” his clothes faultlessly iittmg his plump little figure. In his hauil he held a cane whoso circumference was but little greater than that of a pipe-stem; on iiis small head, in dandy-uke fashion, was perched a beaver, the removal of which re vealed two huge “scallops” covering the greater portion of his low, fleshy forehead, and thus heightening the effeminacy of his small, delicately-cut features. Ah, Fancy, if your villainy had not carried you to an early grave, you would to-day be one of the brilliant stare in the flrmaiuennt of latter day aestheticism, and one to whom sweet Oscar would point with infinite pride! Fancy belonged to the class of young men styled “fast,” and by this class was held in high esteem; but by the more sensible of his acquaintances he was severely ridiculed. Although Mr. Morriss treated the young man with tho utmost courtesy, he found it impossible to like the dandy, and bad not the latter’s crippled father ami consumptive sister enlisted the sympathy of tho noble hearted tobaceonist, 1 fear Fancy would long before the openiug of this novel cave lieen sent elsewhere in search of employ ment. Since he had become a clerk iti Mr. Morriss’office, Pauline seldom ever came to the place, because of her repugnance to ward him. “I would just as lief pass a nest of rattle snakes as to pass that man!”she often de clared. “He. always stares at me so impu dently!” Charlie, too, cherished a dislike to the fellow, and always spoke of him as "that muskrat,” because of the sickening odor of musk winch lingered perpetually about him. As he entered the office, tho dandy went up to W alker's desk, and, slapping that young gentleman upon the shoulder, ex claimed, as a silly grin played about his small mouth; “Well, hello. Walker! But didn’t we have a jolly old time last niglitf You bet! Eh, old pard; Didn’t we have the fun, though;’ 1 Walker’s face crimsoned with shame. The sinful m i uner m which he had spent the night before rushed upon his miud like some hideous dream. Poor fellow! He was uot naturally bad. The heart that throbbed within his bosom was just as noble as the one which neat w ithin the breast of Virgil Paine, but, alas! the former had not tlie stability of the latter, and Fancy, discover ing Walker’s weakness, had led him into his own haunts ot vice. But. though his man hood was tarnished, Walker was uot yet lost. As he encountered tho lofty scorn stamped upon the faces of Virgil Paine and Courtney Price, he manfully resolved never again to yield to the persuasions of his evil genius. A sudden feeling of revulsion to ward Fancy sprang up wi hin his heart. He despised himself for having been led astray by so coarse and insignificant a creature. "Well 'pou my soul, the fellow ain’t got over his frolic yet,” said Fancy, with one ot those loud, vulgar laugh - which always fall so harshly upon a refined ear. "Never mind, old boy, you’ll get used to it when you get to be 25. By the way, Walker, I met that d— old Puritan up the street just now, and, as usual, he had to lecture me on fast living. I’d like to know what in the h— he’s got to do with me outside of this place!” With these words the speaker took from his pocket a handkerchief that savored strongly of musk and drew it over his red brown moustache, at the same time looking fondly at his reflection in a mirror opposite. Suddenly his gaze fell upon Virgil, and, ap proaching the youth’s desk, he addressed our hero in the same uncouth manner in which he had saluted Walker: “Well, hello, Paine!” “Good morning, Mr. Brown,” replied Vir gil, haughtily, disgust visible in every fea ture of his noble face. “And tho old Puritan has cauticned us not to blight your young manhood, as he calls it. Well, well, I declare! Whoever heard of such a thing! It may do tqp him, now that he is growing old to become sane tilled. But ho can’t keep the young man down. Say, can he, old pard? Ain’t keep ing you down, is he ? Going to see your fun, no matter what the old hypocrite says. Eh, old pard?” aud the disgusting fellow burst into another coarse laugh. “I fear, sir, you misjudge our employer,” replied Virgil. ' 'From what lean learn, Mr. Morriss would do everything in his power to contribute to the happiness of the young. ” “According to his idea of happiness,” said Fancy, with a sneer. “Well, Mr. Brown, it is imposible for all people to entertain the same idea of happi ness, since society is divided into two classes —the refined and the vulgar. He who be longs to the former class finds enjoyment only in those things that tend toward the elevation of his spiritual and intellectual nature, while he of the latter class, like the brute, finds enjoyment only in gratifying his lower passions. Tho refined man finds pleasure only around his fireside, for there lie meets with those he loves, and with them joins in genial converse, lively song, and in nocent and profitable amusements. For the vulgar man home has no attractions; the society of the vicious is more congenial to him than that of either his mother or his sister; Bacchanalian song is sweeter to his ears than the most refined music, and a night’s debauch has m re fascination for him than all the charms of the home cir cle !” A foot seemed to have been added to Vir gil’s height while he was speaking. His great hazel eyes glowed with the fire of elo quence; the pink flush which nestled per petually in his cheeks had deepened to a peony-red, and ovdr his beautiful brow had fallen in careless grace a lock of his raven hair. The insignificant dandy cowered beneath the scornful gaze of the boy, and, like a whipped cur, sneaked away, leaving our hero “master of the situation.” Price and Walker looked up from their work and smiled approvingl v at Virgil, and Charlie, who had entered the office unob served, while our hero was speaking, waved his hat over his head and proposed “three cheers for the gentleman from Culpeper!” Fancy, in the meantime, was bending over his desk, apparently heedless of what was going on, but down in his evil heart ho was heaping the bitterest curses upon the boy who had so fearlessly repulsed his coarse familiarity. “Virgil, my boy, you look superb!” ex claimed Charlie, winding his arm around his friend’s neck. “I imagined just now that I was listening to Cicero or Demosthenes, or some of those other grand orators who lived centuries ago. Virgil, you would make a beautiful Handet! I swear if I possessed your talent, bearing, voice and physique, 1 would prepare at once for the stage, con fident of winning everlasting fame!” Virgil only smiled. “Virgil,” said Charlie, after a pause, in an undertone, as he toyed mechanically with his watch-chain, “I came down here before breakfast to apologize for being out when you called to see me yesterday, and also for the rude manner in which my sister treated you- I know vou will forgive her when you have learned she is only a spoiled, thought less child, having been brought up under the influence of a mother who doesn’t know as much about rearing children as I do.” “I freely forgive Miss Flurine,” said Vir gil. “1 confess her conduct hurt my feel ings at the time, but Miss Pauline’s kind ness speediiv healed the wound your sister inflicted. Oh, Charlie. I shall never, never forget your cousin’s disinterested kindness.” At the mention of Pauline’s name Charlie’s face became radiant. •‘Oh, she's an angel!” he exclaimed, en thusiastically, and so loudly that Fancy burst into a loud, contemptous laugh. Charlie tu lied upon him with flashing eyes. “What do you mean, sir, by that derisive laugh?” demanded our young friend. “You low-bred, contemptible upstart, I cannot see why uncle Phil keeps vou in his employ. If I were he. I would kick you out into the street!” “But you see, my young gent, you ain’t got this shebang under your control, al though you strut up and down the place like a peacock and put on more airs than either Mr. Morriss or his sou.” “It is a falsehood, sir,” cried Charlie, be side himself with anger. “I rarely ever come here, and when Ido I treat you with as much courtesy as I do the gentlemen in the establishment." “Do you mean to insinuate that I am not a gentleman?” demanded Fancy. “Yes,” answered Charlie. “You have presumption enough to think yourself one; but, in reality, you are totally devoid of every quality tnat makes a gentl man! You have uot a spark of gentleness in your na ture! Gentleman, indeed! You are u coarse, ill-bred scoundrel!” “Look here, Morriss!” cried Fancy. “You needn’t think you can talk to me as you d— please, because your uncle owns the shebang. I am tired of your impudence. You and that boy there (pointing to Virgil) have done nothing but give me impudence since I have been here this morning. A man can’t stand being talked to so saucily by bo vs!” Virgil dropped his pen and fearlessly con fronted the dandy. “If you regard me only as a boy, sir," he exclaimed, “then you, as a man, should have crimsoned with shame when you sought a few minutes ago to fill my mind with low and brutish thoughts—when you attempted to embitter me against my no ble-hearted emplover! A gentleman, sir, however degraded" he may have become through hi own weakness, would pluck bis THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1887. eves from their sockets rather than utter in die hearing of a boy an obscene remark, lest it should have an evil effect upon the boy's unformed character!” Again did Fancy cower beneath the flash of those eloquent dark eyes, but only for a moment. Pale with rage, he cried; 'li you don’t shut vour d — mouth, hoy. I'll knock down your threat every one of those lino white teeth you seem to be so fond of showing!” “Yes, you will,” cried Charlie, placing himself between Virgil and Brown. “You would not dare touch Virgil Paine, you cowardly creature, for you know he is your superior physically as well as morally and intelleoualiy, and that one blow from him would send you senseless to the floor.” And in his anger the hot-headed youth rushed upon Fancy and dealt him a blow in the breast. Tlio fop returned the tick, and thereupon a tight ensued. From the fre quent tights into which his impulsive nature had led him, Charlie had acquired consid erable skill as a pugilist; and on this occa sion as, upon most others, he came off vic tor. When the fight was over Price, with a mischievous gleam in hfe> eyes, proposed “threecheers for the gentleman from Rich mondcity!” : k “And you have put in your mouth, have you?” exclaimed tho whipped dandy, and in his passion he picked up from his desk an ink-stand and hurled it at Price. It missed that young gentleman, how ever, and struck Charlie on tho chin, in flicting a deep gosh, from which the blood gusheu in a copious flow. Virgil and Price rushed at once to Charlie’s help, and leading him to the marble basin beneath the hydrant, bathed the wound un til the blood had exhausted its flow. Then Walker, anxious to render some assistance, came forward, and, taking a piece of court piaster from his pocketbook, asked: “Wouldn’t this do the cut good?” “That is the very thing, thank you, Mr. Walker,” said Virgil, as he took the court piaster and applied it to the gash. “Bay, old pard,” said Fancy, addressing Walker. “Are you trying too to get in the young Puritan’s good graces? Well, well; there is some charm in his lordship 1 have tailed to see.” “Has that muskrat the impudence to squeal after his cowardly assault?” cried Charlie, becoming infuriated at the sound of the dandy’s voice. “If I don’t throttle him, my name is not Charlie Morriss!” •‘You will do no such thing!"’ said Virgil, gently yet firmly. ‘'You have already sullied your manhood by lighting with one you think your inferior.” A gleam of fiendish hate shone in the small blue eyes of Brown. He could have rushed upon Virgil and torn him into pieces; but the youth’s cool, fearless manner held the insignificant wretch, like a beast, at bay. "No, Charlie, you must go home now. You have fought enough to-day,” said Vir gil, loading his hot-headed friend to the door. Charlie hesitated a second, and then like an obedient child left the office. He loved Virgil dearly, and our hero’s cool, dignified demeanor always had the effect of calming his own fiery nature. Virgil, on taking leave of Charlie, re turned to his desk After the little episode we have related, business began to assume an air of activity, and the rest of the day passed away quietly. Late in the afternoon Mr. Morriss returned to the office He was delighted with the aptness which Virgil maui Tested for clerical work, and. gently stroi i ig the youth’s head, pas-ed into his own apartment, mutter.ng to himself: “1 xuve the boy already!” CHAPTER VIII. There's a cloud on my spirit; There's a gloom in my heart— A shadow —a something— That will not depart. — Mrs. Cornelia \f. Jordan. “Where have you been, Charlie?” inquired Mi's. Morriss, as her son entered the dining room while she and Florins were at break fast. “Why, what is the matter with youi chin ? Have you had a fail ?” “Fall, indeed 1” sneered Florine, as her beautiful lips curled with contempt. “He has lieen fighting. He is al hvays getting into a difficulty, and finally he will get killed if he doesn’t mind, and it would just serve him right. You young bully!” turning upon him with flash ing eyes. “Now, you are in a beautiful condition to attend the marriage, aren’t you, sir? If I were mamma, I would punish you by making you stay in your room to night i” Charlie was too deeply hurt to make an angry rejoinder. “If mother wishes to punish me,” he said, “she could inflict upon me no greater pun ishment than to compel my presence at her marriage. If I were to consult my own wishes, I should prefer to remain in my room to-night, and perhaps I shall.” The sad tremor in his voice touched his mother’s heart. “I should feel greatly hurt, Charlie,” said the lady, “if you wore to treat me with so little respect. ' Florine. you ought not to have spoken to your brother so unfeelingly. It was wholly uncalled for. You have wounded his feelings. Sit down, my son, and eat your breakfast. The oysters and ■ hocolate are growing cold. Bob,” address ing the waiter, “go and see if Malindy lias afy hot waffles. But here she is now. Bob, hand them to Charlie.” The boy placed a couple of the steaming waffles upon his plate and proceeded to eat. His appetite was generally good, hut this morning he seemed to have lost it entirely. He merely tasted the waffles and drank only a few swallows of chocolate, while the oys ters he did not touch. • • Why, you haven't finished eating?” asked Mrs. Morriss, as he placed his knife and fork across his plate, wiped his mouth, and leaned back in his chair. "Yes, ma’am.” "Are you unwell?” queried his mother, anxiously. "No, mother. I don’t feel like eating— that is all,” and a look of impatience eloudod his usually bright face. “But you must eat something. Bob, hand him those rolls. Perhaps he would enjoy them. Wouldn’t you, Charlie? Let me butter a couple for you.” But Charlie refused positively bo partake of another mouthful, and, finding her per ■uasions fruitless, Mrs. Morriss proposed i at they repair to the sitting room. Char u. a nd his sister arose and followed her up stairs. Mrs. Morriss sat down on the sofa by the side of her son, and drawing his head down upon her bosom, gazed lovingly into the large blue eves upraised to hers. “Oh, my chilli! My child! Why are you so obstinate?” moaned the lady, as she passed her slender fingers caressinly through iiis hair, “I wish you would go with us! What shall Ido without my boy—my mis chievous, blue-eyed boy I" The unexpected outburst of tenderness surprised Charlie. He looked wonilcringly up into his mother’s face, and, with the simplicity of a little child, asked; “Mother, do you really love me?” “Of course I do, mother.” “As dearly as you love Florine?” Mrs. Morriss glanced admiringly at her beautiful daughter. Yesterday she might have answered in the negative, but now. as she held her boy—her first bora—to her bosom—as she gazed down into tho honest, handsome face upturned to hers—as .she re alized how soon they were to part,, pcrha]>K never to meet on earth again—she felt that lie was infinitely more dear to her heart than she had ever thought, and firmly, truth fully, slie replied : “Yes, Charlie, vou are iust as dear to my heart as Florine,'’ and she confirmed her avowal with a kiss. A happy, contented expression stole over the youth’s face, and winding his arm around his mother's neck, he said in a voice so strangely low aud sweet that it seemed to ring in nef ears to the day of her death: '•Mother, what has come over you? You have changed so I hardly know you. Your icy nature has suddenly melted away, and you have become what I have always want ed vou to be—a loving mother!” Mrs. Morriss did not reply. Him only drew her boy nearer to her breast, and. locked in each other’s embrace, mother and son wept like two little children. The touching scene did not in the least affect Florine. On the contrary, it aroused her jealousy. She could not bear the thought of Charlie's sharing as large a place in her mother’s heart as hers. If. “The idea of mamma’s petting that fat, overgrown baby,” muttered the girl, as she stood arranging a bunch of hyacinths in a vase. Florine was a beautiful creature. Her complexion was of a rich olive tint, with a deep rosy hue in either cheek. Her eyes were largo, black and brilliant, and the ex uberant growth of soft, glossy black hair which rippled below her waist was the crowning feature of her marvelous beauty. But her comeliness of person was by no means her only attraction. She poss >ssod wonderful fluency of speech, inimitable wit, and a great amount of natural grace, which, apart from physical beauty, would have insured her an exalted position in fash ionable society. Mrs. Morriss was very proud of her daughter. It was for Fiorine’s sake that she was about to re-enter the matrimonial estate. It was the chief desire of the moth er's heart to have her daughter's education finished abroad, and to gratify this pot wish of her life she nail accepted the hand of Mr. John Rolfe Woodbury, an immensely wealthy bachelor, and to-night the two were to be made twain of one flesh. * * * * * * It was 8 o'clock in the evening. Amid sweet, joyous strains of music, the bridal party assembled in the elegant, bril liantly-lighted parlors of the Morriss man sion. The clergyman, a venerable-looking old gentleman, robed in his sacerdotal gar ments, opened the Book of Common Prayer, and began the impressive marriage service of the Protestant Episcopal church. The ceremony, though a lengthy one, was soon concluded, and in slow, solemn tones, the minister pronounced John Rolfe Wood bury and Ann Elizabeth Morriss mail and wife. The guests immediately pressed forward to congratulate the couple. If the crowd had been gathering about his mother’s corpse, Charlie’s face could not havo worn a more dejected expression. The poor boy stood in a remote corner of the room regarding the scene for several min utes, and then, feeling himself unequal to the painful duty of congratulating his mother, dived a hand in each pocket and sauntered to a side window. Raising the curtain, he peered vacantly out into the cold moonlight. "Charlie! Charlie!” He turned slowly, and beheld Pauline standing before him, looking almost angelic in an elegant costume of white velvet. Bhe laid her hand gently upon his arm aud said: “Charlie, aunt Nannie is looking for you. Your failure to congratulate her seems to hurt her deeply.” “It does'” ho asked “Oh, Paulie! I can’t. 1 can’t! Oh, my cousin, pity me! I am so miserable! I thought I could part from mother without shedding a tear, but I feel now as if it will break my heart! Oh, Paulie, such a change has come over her! She is all love and tenderness. Not less ! hail a dozen times to-day she has folded me to her bosom and sobbed as if her heart would break! Oil, Paulie! Paulie!” and the poor boy began to weep. “My poor cousin!” said Pauline, her lips quivering aud her beautiful violet eyes fill ing with tears. Just here Florine approached them. “What, crying again!” she exclaimed, with a laugh in which sarcasm and merri ment were blended. “There’s nobody dead in the house, Charlie Morriss! Pauline, I thought you had more sense than to en courage such childishness on the part of a boy 18 years of age. He lias lieen clinging to mamma's apron-si rings "‘the live long day. I might have some compassion for him if he were denied the privilege of accom panying us abroad; but Since he is too proud to eujoy any luxury at the expense of papa—for it is my dutv to call Mr. Woodbury such, you know—l have no sym pathy whatever for him!” Charlie’s brow darkened, but, before lie could frame a reply, a youth of about 16— a nephew of Mr. Woixlbury—Btepped before Florine and smilingly said, as his head al most touched his feet in bowing: “Miss Florine, may I have the pleasure of your company for a promenade?” "Certainly, Clarence,” aud gracefully taking his arm she walked off. As the youthful pair strolled away an other of the young Woodburys—a youth of about 18 or 19—if we may judge from the dark penciling which nature’s hand liad wrought upon his upper lip—approached Paulino, and with even more disgusting affectation than his brother had manifested said: "And may I have the pleasure of your company for a promenade. Miss Paulino?” Charlie's angry countenance frightened Pauline, and, fearing that the hot-headed boy might say something ungentlemaniy, she hastened to reply: “No, thank you, Mr. Woodbury. Don’t you see I have eompanv ?” "Excuse me, Morriss,” said Woodbury. “I didn’t see you. 'Pon my honor, I didn’t! A fellow, you know, is very likely to overlook the presence of those of his own sex when a pretty young lady is around.” “No apology Is necessary, sir,” said Char lie, with fi eezing politeness, aud as Wo<>d bury sauntered across the room, the foraier turned to his cousin and quoted: •* ‘Oh save me ye powers, from the ginks of the nation! These tea-table heroes! These lords of crea tion !’ If I had my way, Paulie, do you know what I would do with such fellows as those Wood burys?” “No, Charlie. What would you do?” asked the girl, smiling. "1 would salt and pack in boxes, like people do sardines, all such self coaceited upstarts and ship them to New Zealand for the cannibals to feast upon.” ‘‘Horrors, Charlie!” cried Pauline, with a fictitious shiver. “How cruel-hearted you are! You should not be so uncharitable to ward the weak-minded of your sex. The dandy is a poor, harmless creature. Think of what a dull world this planet would be if it acre not for his presence! Think how monotonous our evening parties would often prove if it were not for the amusing antic* of this human donkey! Heafforusme more amusement than all the manageries and circuses I ever attended! But there is your mother looking in this direction! Bhe is beckoning for you. Come, Charlie!” Charlie made no further resistance, but meekly followed Pauline aero:* the room. His mother met him with open arms and clasped him to her bosom. “You are tardy in your congratulations, mv son.” she said, in an injured tone. Mr. Woodbury stood near with a good natured smile upon his coarse, red face, and as his bride unoasped her son, he held out his large, fleshy palm to the youth. Charlie hesitated u moment, and then slowly placed his hand in the one extended to him. We think our young friend’s dislike to his step father had sprung rather from prejudice than from any good cause. Mr. Woodbury was indeed coarse-lookitig, and had the misfortune of creating an unfavorable im pression upon a stranger’s mind; but that he was a well-bred, honorable gentleman nobody could refute. Mr. Woodbury had taken a great fancy to Charlie, and had tried every means in his power to win the boy’s affection, but had failed. Charlie had conceived an unconquerable hatred toward the gentleman. The youth felt that his father’s memory had been slighted. He had loved his paternal parent with all the ardor of his warm, impulsive soul; often had his boyish heart been touched with a sense of his father’s wrongs, and never had he hesitated to bold ly take Mr. Morriss’ paid? in the domestic wrangles. Heuce the unnatural coolness which had existed until to-day between mother and son. His painful duty performed, Charlie re joined his cousin. As they passed the piano they encountered Florine seated at tho lu siriiment, surrounded by a group of young sters, whoso ages ranged from 15 to lb years. The scene brought to Pauline’s mind the incident of yesterday. The image of Vir gil arose before her. His beautiful eyes seemed raise 1 to hers in mournful eloquence, and her lips unconsciously curled as she thought how superior he was to the foolish, gurralous upstarts gathered Sround Florino. Was she in love with the bovf As she asked herself the question a blush over spread her checks. No, she assured herself; she had not been so uuwatcbful as to let the passion steal an entrance to her heart. “And those are the kind of young men Florine likes," said Charlie, averting his head in disgust; “but at a sensible boy like Virgil Paine she turns up her nose. Par don my vulgarism, Paulie.” At the mention of Virgil’s name Pauline blushed again—this time to the roots of her hair. “By the way, Paulie,’’ said Charlie. “I went to the oltiee tills morning to see Vir gil, and he was extravagant in his expres sions of gratitude toward you. Ho says ho will never forget your disinterested kind ness.” A joyous expression lighted up the girl’s face,' heightening her beauty to seraphic loveliness. Charlie saw the sudden change of her countenance, and an expression of ineffable sadness came over his own face. “I understand it all, 11 he mentally ejacu lated. “She is in love with Virgil. But why should 1 wonder at it; He is hand some—intellectually handsome, as she her self says; he is extraordinarily talented and asgooilund gentle as he is handsome ami in tellectual. ’i'ne idea of her loving me—a shal low, hot-headed, harum-scarum fellow —is absurdl Wjiat a fool i have been to cher ish the hope of her returning my affec tion! I win crush the passion at once, or I will at least conceal it! Pauline Morriss shall never know tuat I love her! lam too proud to avow my love for one who i know loves another!” The happy expression instantly faded from Pauline’s face at sight of her cousin’s dejected countenance. “Cheer up, Ctiurlie,” she said, tenderly, laying her hand upon his arm. '•'Let me alone,’’ Ue replied, sharply. Pauline looked at him in astonishment. Never lief ore hud ho spoken to her m such a manner. Tears came into her eyes, and, stung deeply by his harshness, she turned to leave him. But instantly he caught her arm, ami said penitently: “Paulie, don’t get angry with me! I didn’t mean to bo cross to you, my sweet, angel cousin! I believe lam possessed of Satan, i wish I were dead, for I don’t de serve to live auother minute after speaking to you so harshly! Forgive me, my cousin, will you notf” “Yes, Charlie; I forgive you; but you had no right to speak to me as you did.” “I know I didn’t,” he replied, sorrowful ly. “But you will forgive me, Paulief” “I told you I would, Cbarli replied the girl, touched by his plaintive voice. “I Know you didn't mean to speak to ine harshly. So don’t trouble yourself about the matter further. It was very wicked in you to wish for death. Hero comes brother! Charlie, doesn’t lie look manly and uoble; 1 never saw him appear so handsome ill my life as he does to-night. You and he are so much alike, Charlie. You grow more and more like brother every day. Just look at Blanche Watson casting shy glances at him. The cunning creature! Oh, brother 1” “What do you want, little sisterf” said the young minister, placing his hand under her chin and looking fondly into her fair, sweet face. “1 want you to assume the role of Help and assist this Pilgrim out of the Slough of Despond,” she replied. “Poor Charlie!” said Bunyan, turning to his cousin. “I knew you would grow sad as the time of parting drew near, although you boasted up ,o last night you could part from aunt Nannie and Florine without shed ding a tear. 1 knew your warm, impulsive nature was incapable of such stoicism. I fear, my boy, if mother and Pauline wore going to leave me ail hour or two hence for live years, 1 should be deeper in the Slough than you. 1 fear I can I give you but feeble comfort. However, f will try my best.” And lie did try, but without success. A shadow blacker man the shadows of night had fallen upon the boy's spirit. To him the future seemed but a drear}' waste of years, along which he must journey with a broken heart. Pauline —she whom he had loved from his earliest boyhood—loved an other. She had not said she did; but had not her countenance convinced him of the facti Dreamily he moved among the crowd; mechanically he listened to the sweet strains of music that floated at intervals through the parlors. As the wounded deer longs in his dying moments to flee to some hidden spot in the wilderuoss where neither man nor beust may tiehold its sufferings, so poor Charlie, in the anguish of his heart, longed to escape to some place of solitude to mourn over Ins suddenly-faded hope. The evening passed pleasantly away to all except the sau-hearted boy. At 10 o’clock supper was served, and an hour later Mr. and Mrs. Woodbury, accompanied by Florine, left for New York, lrom which port in early spring they proposed to sail lor Liverpool. After much persausion ou the part of his uncle’s family, Charlie reluctantly accom panied them home. The next morning he departed, with a Heavy heart, for college. Lto be continued.] Consumption, Scrofula, General Debil ity, Wasting Diseases of Children, Chronic Coughs and Bronchitis, can lie cured by the use of Scott's Emulsion of Pure Cod Liver Oil with Hypophosphites. Prom inent physicians use it and testify to its great value. Please read the following: “I used Scott’s Emulsion for an obstinate cough with hemorrhage, loss of apiietite, emaciation, sleeplessness, etc. All of these have now left, and 1 believe your Emulsion has saved a case of well developed consump tion.” — T. J. Findley, M. D., Lone Star, Tex. STEAM LAUNDRY. Lace Curtains, Collars, Cuffs and Shirts TO DO UP LIKE NEW, SAVANNAH STEAM LAUNDRY, 131 Congress Street. fy* All floods are insured against loss by fire. UNDERTAKER. JOHN H FOX, XT udertafcer, MaHonic Temple, CORNER LIBERTY ANI) WHITAKER STS. Beeidence, ilti Abercorn. WOOD. A. S. BACO N, i’laniD. Mill, Lumber and Wood Yard, Liberty and East Broad sts., Savannah, Ga. ALL Planing Mill work correctly and prompt ly done. Good stock Dressed ana Rough Lumber. FIRE WOOD, Oak, Pine, Lightwood and Lumber Kindlings. FRESH BULBS. Hyacinths, tulips, crocus, snow DROPS and JONOUILS. A'so PANSY and VIOUCT SEED. S'i’iCOhG’fci JJ.au U iSIGRE. DRY GOODS. Re-opened at the 013 Stand! David Weisbein, 153 BROUGHTON ST., SAVANNAH, Announces to his many customers and the public at large that he has re-opened business at his former place, 158 BROUGHTON STREET, so well and favorably known, and which has been patronized to such extent that it became known as THE POPULAR DRY GOODS HOUSE. TTTE have in stock every quality of goods „p the VERY FINEST, and our pricetfVlll be found ▼ ▼ to bo far lower than they have ever been, and by far lower than the same qualities can be purchased anywhere, New York city not excepted. We are aware that this is a far-reaching as sertion. but we mean exactly what we say. Call and test us We are willing to risk our reputa tion that this is not an advertising dodge. We stake our honor upon its truthfulness. Wc lusist That What We Say Are Indisputable Facts and Easily Proven. niTi) pp lvo run no OTP PC Contains the best, choicest and largest assortment in the city, and UUI IJII Md UUUIJJ fllULfl our prices are about one third loss. Ol'K BIACK DRESS si I KS Arotb * best '' Vearln S silksin a n y market, and one-fourth cheaper. nun Oil lA VPIVICT? PI Plain and Fancy. Moire Satins in all shades, and all the Utli Culm iLlilLlo, ILI All M, novelties of Trimmings in Jot and Braid are the latest styles and at remarkably low prices. Hill! RI IVL’L'T PL'DIDTMIi'YT Is complete In every sense of the word. We have White ULII DLiAimM IHMA II 1 Jl Eat 1 Blankets as low as 85c. a pair and up to $25. We especially recommend our $5 Blanket ; they are simply immense. HUP PI i\’VPI nPPARTIMFVT Contains every grade, stylo, quality and color, from the Übll I bail ALb DIM All 1 ill;.' 1 humblest grade to the finest Eiderdown, and we aro sure our prices are very low. flf!R L’VP.I KII WAUnVG I im’Tl’ Wraps, Circulars, Jerseys, Children's Cloaks are un- ULII L.lUuloll IIAIiMiMI uAI/IYCilu, questionably the l>est. most fashionable and elegant in the market, and the prices by far lower than elsewhere. fll’P L’lll LI HYP HFP4RTM PVT I s superb. We arc nroud of it. See our various grades at Unit MU ULU ’ L DIM Mil l .'I t/l” I ,V)C , (Sc., sl, etc. They are positively worth double. Our 500. 4-Button Kid cannot lie matched anywhere for less than sl. We are fully prepared in every style of Gloves for Ladies, Gents and Children at the very lowest prices. Gentlemen Mesh ing a good Dress or Driving Glove will find an immense variety and NOT fancy prices. nrn rvni’PHTIR IH'PIPTMFVT Tor Ladies, Children and Gents contains every variety mil U A ULII It LAB ULljllll .UL.I I from the ordinary to the very best Children's Vests as low as 15c. for a very fair quality. Gents’ All Wool Scarlet Undershirts mid Drawers as low as 60c. We direct also attention to our very superior li le of Half Hose and Stockings in Wool, Meriuo, Cotton, Silk and Lisle Thread. clip T inis' PI riTFK Damasks, Linens of all kinds, Sheetings, Calico Comfortables, Mar i’lLlV 1A DLL I bll I IIP, seilles and other Quilts and Bed Spread i. In fact, every article neces sary for housekeeping we have in the Un rest variety and al the lowest prices. We offer full width New York Mills Bleached sheeting at 1914 c. nrp ruUHY'Tir fITDI PTW.’YT Is beyond doubt unequaled. We offer the celebrated Lons- Ulil UU.HLPIII ULrAn I ill LA i dale Bleached Shirting, yard wide, genuine goods, by the niece at Bc. Also the well-known yard wide Fruit of the Loom at *A>e. Splendid Canton Flannel us low oh sc. The very best Standard Calico at 5c.; sold elsewhere at Bc. LADIES’ MUSLIN UNDERWEAR, SUtsfrom 4 toll year, in large variety at nearly halt OUR BAZAR Will be opened on SATURDAY, the 20th October, and will contain the best and unapproachable bargains in Fancy Goods, Hosiery, Buttons, Toys, etc. We will inaugurate this open ing by a Special Sale of Towels. They are warranted to be pure linen and worth 2-sc. each, We will sell them on Sat urday, Oct. 20, and Monday, Oct. 31, at the uniform price of 10 cents. DAVID WEISBEIN. - - " y-v'”- , ■ .... ........ DltY GOODS. ECKSTEIN’S WEEKLY AD. The Old Reliable Dry Goods House OFFERS THIS WEEK: High Novelties in Dress Goods. ECKSTEIN’S. High Novelties in Ladies’ Wraps. ECKSTEIN’S. High Novelties in Trimming Velvets. ECKSTEIN’S. High Novelties of Every Character. ECKSTEIN’S. WILL SELL THESE EXCLUSIVE CHOICE STYLES AT EXTREME LOW PRICES. THE BEST GOODS AT LOWEST POSSIBLE PRICE. N. B. We invite the attention of the Ladies in particular, and o"-- patrons in general, to our New Stock of Elegant G-oods, and to complete lines White Blankets, Comforters, Kid Gloves, Hosiery, Knit Underwear, Flannels, and invite the trade in gen eral to inspect our grand assortments before purchasing. GUSTAVE ECKSTEIN & CO. MILLINERY. KROUBKOFFB Oftiing of to Fall ton 1881. However attractive and immense our previous season’s stock in Millinery has been, this season we excel all our previous selections. Every manufacturer and importer of note in the markets of the world is represented in the array, and display of Millinery goods. We are showing Ilats in the finest Ilatter’s Plush, Beaver, Felt, Straw and Fancy Combinations. Ribbons in Glacee, of all the novel shades. Fancy Birds and Wings, Velvets and Plushes of our own im portation, and we now offer you the advantages of our im mense stock. We continue the retail sale on our first floor at wholesale prices. We also continue to sell our Celebrated XXX Ribbons at previous prices. TO-DAY, 500 dozen Felt Hats, in all the new shapes and colors, 35 cents S. Maws lira SIMMY HOUSE iUtUUUJiXU.N BTUEKT. 5