Newspaper Page Text
POVERTY.
Written for the Morning New*.
And they call yon rich-
You whose sated eyes have grown
XVea'ry of the brilliance and the bloom
Of costly art; . , .....
Fves that forget to raise t”eir languid lids
To gaze upon the exquisite tints
Of gorgeous sunset skies.
They call me poor—and yet. in truth,
j would not give the and -ep strange joy I feel.
As silently I make my own
The beauty of God s radiant skies.
For all your works of art, and all your gold,
Your table, nar, your whole grand house
i s oue bright place of hot house bloom.
And scarce one blossom wins a passing glanoe,
While I can dream a whole rose garden
Over one!my fragrant bud
You lavish princely suras for naught.
And sadly bored—endure
The harmony you scarcely hear:
ynd I—my weary heart stands still—
Once more I am a child and heaven is near,
Mv being ail absorbed—heart, soul aud will—
Pv inst one wild, pathetic strain.
Besides, you are alone so poor.
For all vour wealth could never buy
The little hand that nestles close in mine;
Your brilliant jewels dim and pa'e beside
The love-light shining in her deep blue eyes.
Sav thev are wrong tnv friend; 'tfs I
Ani rich beyond compare. Your home
Is like your heart —cold, desolate ahd base.
* -Pats.
morning news library NO. 28.
eomceoFeiotmond.
by WALTER M. RICHMOND.
Copyrighted , 1887, by J. H. EstilU
CHAPTER XL
Walk
Boldly and wisely in that light thou hast—
There is a band above will help thee on.
—Bailey.
A week had elapsed. Far away iu the
lonely depths of Hollywood Mrs. Paine lay
sweetly sleeping, while, with almost broken
heart, poor Virgil sat bending over his
desk.
The door leading into Mr. Morriss’ apart
ment stood open, and from where that gen
tleman was seated he had a full view of his
young clerk.
“Row sad the poor boy looks!” muttered
the kind-hearted tobacconist. “I have a
great mind to take him and Milton to my
house and rear and educate them as they
should be. They are both bright, good boys,
and if I were thus to befriend them, I am
sure 1 should in a few years feel proud of
them. I will speak with Virgil at once upon
this subject”
And, acting upon this impulse, he called
Virgil to him.
“What is it, Mr. Morriss?” inquired the
youth, coming forward.
“Close the door and then take a seat beside
me,” replied the Tobacconist in a low, gen
tle voice. “I wish to have a private inter
view with you.”
Virgil closed the door, and, drawing up a
chair beside his employer, seated himself.
There was a brief silence; then the tobac
conist, said:
“Virgil, if you were my own son, I could
not love you more than I do. My affection
for you, however, does not spring from the
fact that your father was once a dear friend
of mina No, no. Those who g 'in an en
trance to my heart must pave the way there
to with individual merit, and this, my boy,
you have done. Modesty and courtesy,
truthfulness and honesty, courage ad self
abnegation, and other virtue I find beauti
fully interwoven in your natura I have
stud ed your character closely, and find you
all I can desire. When you first entered
my office I admired you; my admiration
soon developed into a strong, tatlinHv
love. ”
The speaker placed his hand upon Vir
gil's shoulder, and, pausing for a moment,
resumed:
“When I discovered you were endowed
with so fine an intellect, and that night after
night, frequently until 1 or 2 o’clock, you sat
up improving your mind the best you could
without the aid of an instructor, I was anx
ious to send you right back to college; but,
fearing it would be ungenerous to nold so
great a temptation befoje jour ambitious
eyes when your mother and brother we e
dependent upon you for support, I said
nothing to you about the matter. But now
since God has called your dear mother to
Himself—now that you are both fatherless
and motherl ss—may I not do a father's
part by you? Will you not accept a home
beneath mv roof and the completion of your
education at my expense? Virgil, God has
given me wealth, and I intend to use it in a
manner that will benefit my fellow-crea
tures. Will you not, my son. let me take
you to my heart and home? I should 1e so
pro nr! of you, as my generous hearted wife
also would be; while my unselfish children
would be de'ighted to claim y u as their
brother We all love you, Virgil.”
“But what would become of Milton if I
should accept your generous offer's” asked
Virgil.
“Why, my hoy, do you think me a
heathen ?” said Mr. Morriss, laughing. “Do
you think I would send the little fellow to
the almshcfuse or the orphan asylum?
W hy, he should share every pleasure and
advantage that you should. You know
Miitou is a great favorite of mine—indeed,
I know no child that pleases me more than
he does. He has none of that pertness or
piesumption* which render so many ch 1 Iren
disgusting. Don’t trouble yourself about
Miitou, my son. You shall not be separated
from the little fell w. You shall both have
a life-long home with me. I shall hence
forth claim you both as my boys. Let’s see.
I have four boys—Bunyan, Charlie, you and
Miitou! Foul - boys! I wish I had three
times that number!’’
Oh, how the lonely, sad-hearted boy
longed to throw his arms arouud the neck
of his employer and heuceforth be guided
by that gentleman's tender, fatherly coun
sel! How he longed to become a member of
that pure, refined circlfi which he had just
been asked to join! How lie longed, crushed
ns he was by his recent affliction, to go hack
to college and finish his education! His
mind wavered for a moment; then his pride
triumphed over these longings.
“Mi - . Morriss, Ido not know how to thank
you for this last and greatest kindness to
me,” said the boy. brokenly, as his eyes
rested fondly upon the noble countenance of
his employer; “but, I cannot—oh, sir, for
give me, if I wound you—l cannot accept
so generous an offer from one upon whom I
have no claim. lam strong and healthy,
s r, and as long as 1 retain the blessings of
strength and health, I cannot look to an
other for support.”
The tobacconist’s brow darkened with
vexation.
“Virgil Paino, I did not know you had
anv such nonsense in your nature,” he said.
“Some old maid’s writings have doubtless
instilled such foolish ideas into your head.
I have credited you with more sense than
you really hava Discard such notions at
once! Away with them!”
“I am sorry, sir, you erred in estimating
my amount of sens',” said Virgil, with a
pi oud toss of his head.
A moment later, conscious of his haughty
mannor, lie grapsod Mr. Morriss’ hand and
humbly exclaimed:
“Mr. Morriss, don’t—please don’t —be an
grv with mo! lam so unhappyl You may
claim me as your boy if you wish to do so.
1 will look up to you as 1 would to my iaiker
if he were living, and hy your kind, father
ly counsel will the poor orphan boy be
guided, but, oh, please do not ask me to
compromise ray independence. I cannot,
sir, ave idly upon another’s hands.”
“Our interview is at an end, Virgil. You
may return to your work.”
And with those words, uttered in an icy
tone, Mr. Morriss turned and walked to a
side window.
This coolness on the part of his employer
hal the effect of fully arousing the boy’s
proud spirit, and with a majestic air, he
walked out of the room, noiselessly closing
the door behind him. He mounted his
stool and quietly resumed his work as if
nothing unpleasant had occurred. It is
needless to say that beneath this mask of in
difference throbbed a wretched heart.
An hour later, having finished his labors
for the day, the unhappy youth slowly
made his way homeward, hoping the society
of his littlebrother would prove a balm for
his woes. But Milton was not at home.
Mrs. Morriss aud Pauline had called at the
house an hour before, Aunt Rachel informed
him, and taken the boy riding with them.
Virgil seated himself at the window and,
resting his cheek uoon the palm of his hand,
gazed vacantly out.
Old Rachel stood uear, her dark eyes
fixed foudlv upon the boy; and, after sev
eral minutes silence said;
“You look mighty pale and werried,
honey.”
“Do I, mammy?” said Virgil, mechani
cally.
“ Yes, that you and i,” answered the old
negress. “I tell you what dis here sortin’
up tell 1 and 2 o’clock in de mornin’ toged
der wid grebin’ aider Miss Maryam fellin'
like smoke upon you. ’Deed it is, hone}’.
If you don’t ta' e better keer o’ yourself
you’ll hab a long spell of sickness—typhoid
or brain fever. Now, you just mini! what
old mammy says.”
And with this admonition, accompanied
by a solemn roll of her eyes, the old woman
turned to leave the room; but before she had
reached the door she stopped and said:
“Mars Virgil, thar’s been a yoOug gem
men here to see you.”
“A young gentleman!” said Virgil, turn
ing quickly toward the negress. “Did he
leave his name!”
“No. sir; but I’se mos’ sure he was Miss
Pauline’s cousin—that young gemmin you
kno what you write to at college. He
looked mighty like Miss Pauline—got her
very blue eves and her s imo sweet face.”
“It was Charlie, I presume,” said Virgil.
“The session closed yesterday, a dhe was
expected home to-dav. I would like so
much to see him. Why didn't he remain
till I came home!”
“He seemed mighty restless and said he
would w’alk around till he thought it was
time for you to come.”
At this moment the door-bell rang.
“Thar he is now,” said the old woman,
and she star ed to answer the summons,
when Virgil told her he would go.
The thought of meeting Charlie brought
an expression of pleasure to Virgil's face,
and, hurrying to the door, he found the visi
tor, as he had supposed, to be Charlie. There
was a warm pressure of hands between the
boys, after which they repaired to the par
lor.
“Virgil, allow me to sympathize with
you in your last and greatest affliction,”
said Charlie, before taking a seat. “I felt
very, very sad when Pauline and aunt
Bertha informed me of your mother’
death. My dear friend, you have had
enough trouble in the last year to crush ou‘
all hope and happiness from your life: bul
still I trust that yrur faith in God is not
shaken. Oh, Virgil, since I wrote to you
'ast God has forgiven all my sins Through
the merits of His blessed Son, and filled my
soul with a peace I never felt before. I
cannot describe it. It is so sweet! Upon
the world, with all its pomps and allure
ments, I lmve tuned my back, and toward
the New Jerusalen i have set my face, and,
by the grace of Gcd, I mean to press on
ward until I stand, saved aud crowned,
within her everlasting gates.”
As he thus stood, his fair, bovish face
illumined w’ith the peace of God, Charlie
looked really beautiful. And so thought
Virgil, as he grasped his friend’s hand and
exclaimed with unusual warmth:
“Your words infuse strength and comfort
into my soul, Charlie. lam glad to lear
you have become a Christian. A vein of
sadness has run through all your letters t<
me. Into the nature of that sadness 1 have
no right to inquire; but, whatever it may
be, you have acted nobl y and wisely in asking
Christ to help you bear your cross. The
noble and strong-minded person, in time oi
trouble, looks to God, who fills his weary
soul with visions of the gl rious and eterna
rest beyond; the weak-minded person, oi
the coot ary. seeks to drown his sorrow in
the whirlpool of gayety and dissipation,
and failing in this, puts an end to his mis
enable life, thus hurling to eternal anguish
his immortal spirit, which might have been
redeemed and beautified by divine grace
and made fit to dwell forever in the king
dom of God.”
As Virgil ceased speaking, he handed
Charlie a seat, after which iiesat down him
self. Charlie, in his old impulsive waj\
wound his arm around our hero’s neck, and,
after a pause, said:
“It has for a long time been the purpose
of my life to follow’ the legal profession. Il
was the desire of my father that I should
do so; but, with my conversion, comes a
longing to become a minister of the gospel.
Oh, Virgil, this life is so short, and how
could I spend it better than by toiling iu th
Master’s vineyard? Don’t think me a fa
natic. My conversion is not the result ol
any camp-meeting excitement, but of th<
quiet, effectual working of God upon my
heart.”
“I do not think you a fanatic, Charlie,”
repl ed Virgil. “I believe that you ■ con
version is real —the work of God—and also
that it is He who has created within youi
breast the desire to become a mirister. By
all means, study for the ministry. Yon
shall have my prayers. May God bless you.
Charlie, and—”
he entrance of Milton at this juncture
cut short Virgil’s sentence.
“Charlie, this is my brother.” said our
hero. “You have seen him before, have
you not?’
Charlie did not reply at once. He looked
at Milton in a puzzled manner. Surely the
pale, wasted child standing before him wa
not the same rosy, dimpled-cheek lad whom
he had seen with Virg.l at church the first
Sunday in the New Year. Virgil divined
his friend’s thoughtsand said sadly:
“Miiton is not well, Charlie. When he
came to Richmond six months ago be
weighed 55 pounds, and now he weighs
only 40 pounds. But he always loses
flesh in warm weather, and so I hope the
return of autumn will bring back the color
to his cheeks and the flesh to his body.”
“Oh, yes,” said Charlie, endeavoring to
comfort his friend. “He will n< as plump
as a squirrel when frost ialls. Won’t you,
Milton f Who gave you that beautiful mag
nolia'?”
“Miss Pauline. She is my sweetheart,
you know,” replied the little fellow, me
chanically gnawing the stem of the huge
flower.
“She is?” said Charlie, smiling. “Oh,
yes; she speaks frequently in her letters of
her little Romeo—her little knight—as she
calls you. But where d.d you see Miss
Pauline, Milton ?”
"I’ve been out riding with her and Mi's.
Morriss. We’ve been away up the Grove
road and all over Hollywood. There's
where my mamma is buried, you know,”
and the boy s lips quivered.
Here the"conversation turned upon Roger
Penn. For a long time Virgil aud Cna. lie
talked of their deceased friend, recalling in
husky tones the kind words and noble deeds
of the dead youth.
How ready boys are to forget the failings
and to maguify the virtues of a comrade
tnat has passed away I
CHAPTER XIL
Just men are only free—the rest are slaves.
— Chapman.
The following week theMorrissei left the
city for their farm, in Louisa county,
where they usually spent the summer
months. Milton acconipumod them thituer,
and, under the influence of the pm e, coun
try air, regained his strength and col >r.
When he returned to the city in the fad be
wa> fmiy restored to health and “as plump
as a squirrel,” as Charlie would have ex
pressed it.
Tne little fellow’s restoration to health
infused new life and hope into Virgil, and,
with a happy heart, he resu nel hi < studies,
wn.ch be had abandoned during the sum
mer months. His ambition was a flame not
to be easily supp eased. Though buried tor
a time ben'ea h the wreck of fortune, it had
leapisl forth brighter than ever before.
B oltkeepiug wai dally gr .wing and start dul
to nun, bis deep, intellectual mind longed to
soar in a wide aud loitwr sphere.
uikiAti* A iOUX.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. NOVEMBER 13. 1887.
Early in October ho began the study of
law under a learned and jirominent Judge,
spending three evenings of each week in the
latter’s office. Virgil’s brilliant mind and
noble character at once impressed the man
of law; he felt that his pupil was no ordi
nary boy, aud often did be remark that his
young student “would make the finest law
yer in the State, and a man of whom Vir
ginia would be proud.”
Judge Leon—for tyiat was the lawyer’s
name—was a warm friend of the tobacco
nist, and oue day when the two geutlemeu
were together, the Judge rimarked:
“Pail, you nave a talented boy in your
establishment."
“Of whom do you speak ?” inquired Mr.
Morriss, looking at his friend in surprise.
“Of Virgil Paine," replied Judge Loon.
“Virgil Paine,” repeated the tobacconist.
“Why, William, what do you know of the
boy ?’’
“Why, he is a nupil of mine. Are yon
not aware of the fact?"
“A pupil of yours!” said Mr. Morriss.
“How long has he been studying law,
pray?".
“Alxmt three months, and a finer mind
than his I have never found among the
manv young men whom 1 have turneefupon
the hustings.”
“Well, well," said Mr. Morriss. “I think
Virgil might have initiated me into his
secret. But it is his way of doing tilings. I
don’t understand the boy at all. He is an
enigma. He is possessed of an inordinate
ambition, yet the idea of accepting pecuni
ary assistance from any one is revolting in
the extreme to his prou 1 spirit. His pride
provokes me exceed ngly, but still I feel a
great interest in Virgil—indeed I love him.
I want you to do ev< rytbing in your powei
to assist the young eagle in his "tight; but,
lor heaven’s sake, don’t do anything to
wound his independent spirit.”
Pauline secretly exulted iu Virgil’s inde
pendence of spirit, and when her lather in
formed her of what he had learned from
Judge Leon concerning our hero, her face
became radiant, with joy. and, hastening to
her room, she dropped upon ner knots, and
breathed a short aud earnest prayer for
God’s blessing upon her talented, * proud
spirited young friend.
“0, God,” were the words that arose from
her heart, "bless him, oh, bless my young
friend! Lead him to eminence, but, oh, let
him never depart from Thee! Keep him
pure and unspo. ted from the world! Make
him a great, noble man—a blessing to ins
fellow-creatures aud an honor to Thee!"
* * * * * * *
Fiv© years had elapsed since Virgil began
the study of law. From a handsome,
graeefu. youth of 18 he had developed into
a splendidly-formed, nobie-looking man of
three and twenty, and though time ha .
flung over his features a more masculine
cast, yet the innocent ex] ression of the boy
still rested, like a lingering sunbeam, upon
his counte ance.
After three years of hard study he had
res gned his clerkship in Mr. Morriss’ estab
Lshment and entered upon the practice o
law, and now, alter the lapse of two years,
was considered the most treated and prom
ising young lawyer ip the city. His bril
liaut intellect and eloquent oratory, to
’ether with his irreproachable Cbnstiai
character, bad won for him a deep, lasting
place in the hearts of his townsmen, who
watched his career with the deepest in.er
est.
By the poor and the rich he was held in
high esteem. The former recognized in hin
a friend, who would stand between them
and oppression and ward off the tyrant’s
blows. The latter found tu him every char
acteristic of the true aristocrat. To every
fashionable hall and reception he had a cor
dial invitation, for many a wealthy mamma
was seeking to bring about an alliance be
tween her daughter and the handsome
young lawyer, who was so rapidly rising to
distinction, and many were the bewitching
smiles the younger portion of the fair sex
bestowed upon him.
The revenue derived from his pract ce
was sufficient to enable him and Milton t<
live in actual luxury. In the same building
m which Virgil’s office was situated, he am;
Miltou occupied a suit of elegautly-tur
i.shed rooms. Their meals were seut to
them from a neighboring restaurant. Th
excitement of hotel life was distasteful. t<
the young lawyer; hence his preference fo.
.;is present mode of living. He never ge
mnely; the pure boy .sk society of Milton
banished all dullness from his life.
It was the latter part of April—a mild,
delightful afternoon. At the window over
looking the street Virgil was seated, perns
iig a letter from Bunyan Morris, who,
with his y oung wife, was labormg as a mis
•nonary in Hindustan.
When he had finished reading the young
minister’s letter, Vi.gil broke the seal of an
epistle from Chari e. Our youug frieud.
having graduated the year lief ore with tin
distinction of M. A., bad for the past ses
sion be in a pupil of the Episcopal Theolog
cail he ninary at Alexandria.
Virgil ha 1 just fin.shed reading his old
college-mate’s letter when the door was
flung noiselessly open, and a handsome,
blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked boy of about R
years "entered the oliice, bearing in one
uand a satchel of books and in the other a
ounch of hyacinths.
“You’re late, Milton. It is pa-t 4 o’clock,’
said Virgil, consult! .g his wa ch. “I pre
surae vou were kept in, as usual, for gossip
mg with the girls.”
“Yes, I was Kept in,” said the lad, throw
ing his satchel in a chair, “just because i
pinned a piece of paper to Fred Latham’
jacket and kissed my hand across the room
to B ssie Gray, a'ud prompted Florenct
Overto i in his ory lass and showed Wilde
Scot how to w rk an example in pai tia
pay men t s—and—”
“That's enough,” interrupted Virgil,
laug ing. “I think for all those offense
you deserved to have been kept iu uutn
da k.”
“Now, brother, how could I -land by and*
see poor Florence miss her history less a
when I knew every line of it by heart?”
said the boy, fixiug his lips in a becoming
pout. “M.ss Hill says I am migjtv bad,
ut 1 am not mean enough to see a girl m.ss
her lesson when I know it all by heart. I’d
ieil her if I thong 11 should lie exjiol ed thi
next minute. \V non the old lad y caught me
prompting Florence, she fl wat in • like a
setting hen, and her old nose was us red asu
tur.sey gobbler’s snout,. She jerked me b\
the arm, took my hyacinths Florence gave
me. an 1 made me stand up in tne floor a
solid hour alter the other scholars had taxen
their seats, and then after schbol was out.
she kept mo an hour and made me write tne
wno.e history lesson over—three pages—be
sides analyze and parse two great long sen
teuces in grammar. But I got even with
heig and don't you forget it! When she was
not looking 1 crept up to her desk and took
mv flowers. I bad no notion of her wear
ing mv hyaucintli- in her old red head. Jus,
smell ’em, brother. Ain’t they sweet?”
And while Virgil was inhaling the fra
grauce of the flowers, Milto i danced a jig
about the room. Presently the boy ex
claimed with childish impulse:
“Brother, I am going to see Miss Paulie.
May If"
“Yes; but aren’t you going to wait for
your dinner? It will tie here in a few min
u.es.”
“No,” said the lad, turning around upon
one heel. “I am not hungry one bit. I
bo ight some bananas up tne street. Here
are two I saved for you. Good-bye.”
And placing two large bananas on the
window-sill near Virgil, the unselfish little
fellow bounded ou oi the room and down
the stairs, carolling in a sweet voice:
“Whenschooldays’ tasks nre over.
Come roam tne field< with me.
Where U Kiui.sUir honeyed clover
Where waves the bending t.ee,
Wnere woo l,uid birds are cdling.
The bronkslde paths we ll take
Where silver waters falling
There laughing music make."
As flie sweet strains il iuled through the
open door a smile flitted over Virgil’s face.
“Ob, what a biauk life would be wituout
his presence,” be exclaimed “God bless
him! God bless him!”
“Hello, Paine! Tnat brother of yours
makes this oid building ring when he is
around. He is a genuine bo., ehf”
V.rgil glanced arou id ai/1 saw standing
in the doorway a lawyer friend, wuo occu
pied an office In the sumo bunding.
“Good evening, Mr. Warde. Come in,"
said Virgil, rising, and offering his visitor a
chair.
Waldo daintily raised his Prince Albert,
ands ;t down, after which he took from his
pocket a plug of tobacco.
“Don’t chow,do you, Paine?" he asked, as
he bi off n mouthiul of the filthy wood.
“No, sir.”
"loom oo is a companion to mo,” con
tinued Ward*. “I couldn’t live without it.
Chewing is not a very nice habit, but then,
as I have said, it is a companion hi me.
Paine, you ough to try it Asa remedy for
loneliness. ”
“Thank you, Mr. Warde," said Virgil,
“but I couliiu't like so uncongenial a com
panion."
A brief silence ensued. Then turning
sharply upon our hero, Warde said:
“1 have come to reason with you. Paino.”
“Into what error have I fallen, sir?”
“Avery grievous one. Judge Leon las
iust informed me of your purpose to defend
David O'Lafforty. Paine, is this true?”
“Yes,sir; it is.
“Paine, you are a fool!”
“Thankyou," said Virgil, with provoking
coolness,
“ xes, you are a fool,” repeated Warde.
“As sure as you defend that young Ii .shman
you will lose caste among the better portion
of our people."
“Whom do yon call the better portion o f
our people?” demanded our hero. “The
class to which Fancy Brown belonged—the
class of conceited, perfumed, brainless, up
si arts who carry their hats to the pave
ment in courtewying to Indies of fashion,
aud under the cover of night insu't quiet,
inoffensive working-girls who are obliged to
lie out after and irk? With this class of men
known as ‘bloods,’ ‘swells,’etc., I havenevei
associated; from their society self-respect
uas kept me aloof; those with whom I do
associate are so far above these whipsters,
morally and inte lectually, that I care a
little for the opinion of the latter as I do foi
the Larking of a lot of curs.”
“You cannot deny that Brown belonged
to an excellent family, and that he was a
great favorite iu fashionable circles. Con
sequently, if you delend his low-born mur
derer, you will lose social cas e. You mind
what T Ray!” aud Warde shook his head sig
nificantly.
“I am not the representative of a false
aristocracy’” exclaimed Virgil. “I am a
defender of the right, and as long as I re
main such I shall have the sympathy ol
every good man, whether he be rich oi
poor. I will certainly defend this poo
Irish boy, if God spares my life. He acted
precise y as you or I. or any other man,
would have done undpr the circurn tauces.
If a man should insult one of your s.sters,
would you allow the villain to go unpun
shed? No, no: you would not. Your cou:
t nance darkens at the mere thought of such
a tiling. Now, isn’t David O’Laffcrty's.sis
ter as dear to h is heart as your sisters are t<
'/our heart ? For years, sir , my sister ha
been sleeping in a country g aveyard; but
there is one as dear to me as that sistei
would be if she were living, and if one of
these‘bloods’should dare insult this young
.ady or any ottier lady friend of mine. 1
tear I should forget the sixth command
ment just as poor O’Lafferty did.”
Virgil paused, and brushing back a lock
' f hair which had talleu over his brow, con
tinued:
“me man who would Insult a woman is a
coward and a brute! He does no desorvi
to be called a man. He should not be al
lowed to move lmong good men and pure
women. He deserve even to live.
I coul 1 see him suffer the tortures that were
nflicted upon Arethusius. Ah, you look at
>ne in surprise! You wonder at such lan
guage from one who prolestes to be a Chris
dan! You doubt ess think it heartless and
unbecoming! Perhaps it ts, sir; but let ill
tssure you tha I have not tae iea-t sympa
thy for a villain—one who could insult or
betray an innocent woman!”
The speaker arose, and, after a pause, re
sumed:
“Our women must be protected from the
•owardly insults of these podded, perl utned;
affected rascals made in the shape of men,
md while I do not justify any man in tak
i ig another’s life, yet I do think that honor
ible acquittal should await the man who.
stung to madness by an insult offered to hi
sister, shoots the foul-hearted insulter; and
„he jury, ir, that would conv,ct such a man
is composed of men devoid of every spark of
chivalry!”
Warde moved uneasily in his seat and
nresently, at a loss for something to say,
remarked:
“It doesn’t seem as if you admired
Brown.”
“Admired him,” said Virgil. “How eoul ’
I, sir? With a w • se man I never came m
contact. I studied hischar icter elos dy, bu
failed to And in it a single redeeming trait
Ho had respect neither for G id nor 0 iris
ti n tv. Allihu ch members were thieves,
hire a id hvpocntes; wo-nei were all in
ferior to men, and rot one woman in five
hundred, he o"ten de dared, was deservin'
of the title of ladv, though l.e had the pre
sumption to think himself a gentleman I
and r* iay there is many a vou g in n n
Richmond who was fi stle I into the h um
of vice by this apostle of Sat in. Out in
Hollywood is the tomb of one of his vie' i us.
Ah, sir, when I visit that grave I weep lik
a child, for the one who sleeps ben 'ath Ilia'
mound was ve'-yd-oirto mv heart. Three
vears ago he enter and Mr. M rriss’ o'Tic • as a
clerk. He wasonlvl7 years of as* —jus
budding into manhood. He wa an orphan
ike myself, ami my whole heart went out
to him. He was an ble, handspin * boy
an i of a gentle, poetic temnerament: bu'
u fortunately, he was easily ted a tri .
Brown, discove met is infirmity of thelsiv.
oon su reeded in tern- ting him away from
the right path. The weak-tnin Id, -infill
man tried in every manner to poison th
hoy’s niir.ri against me. Such terms n
hypocrite young Puritan, sake in t.n
pass, wolf in sheep’s clothing were up
n'ied to me hy Brown. His young victim
s‘■•med for a time to believe me dos >rviir r
of those apoellations: and, fascinated with
his tempter, accomnanel him night after
ightto som 'bole of iniquity. The ma -
ne in which my young friend avoided me
wounded me oe 'Ply, and outwardly I was
as cold toward him as I was toward the
wretch that had wrecked his vj tne; bu ,
ah, sir. ben a h this mask of endues* in
liea-t bl"d for the poor wavward boy. who
whs fast goi gt > detraction. I loyal him.
an I never did I pray that I did not lies
aloft to the throne of glare his name with
my own little brother’s. My prayers wets
finally answered. The boy saw the e"ror of
his wav, but not until his health wis
wrecked. About six months ago, before he
hid uttaitiesl his 20th bi th lay, be died on
mv breast, blighted and broken-heni tf*d
but, thanks be to Go I. with the blessed ho|-
of entering into that rest where there ar*
no tempters to draw him away from the
right.”
Clinked with emotion, Virgil paused, and
raising liis handk-TCmef to h.s eye. wnwd
tne tears fh refro.n. Wit dn tnat maiiiv
breast throbbed a heart as tender as any
woman’s.
“It the world were rid of all such men
as Fancy Brown," said Virgil, at length “it
coul 1 boa t of purer and healthier men, for
it is hy such as he that the youth of our
land are led as ray.”
Here a waiter entered the office with'Vir
gil’s dinner, and, arranging it nont.y on u
tahie near the young lawyer, boWed and
withdrew.
“Mr. VVar.le. will you take dinner with
me?” sui 1 Virgil, as lie proceeded to place
an extra chair at the table.
“No, thank you. Paine. It’s time I was
going up home Good evening,” aud risin
the vis tor left the office.
As the reader will learn from the above
conversation Fancy Brown had l>e n fatal y
shot hy an Irish youth named David
O’Lafferfy for having insulted the latter’s
sister, a quiet, inoffensive working girl.
The affair hail created a grea. deal of ex- 1
citoment. Great indignation p availed
among the “bloats,” many of wnoiu dt
cgired that “ii the Irish scoundrel wa* not
hung lor h.s crime, tue.v wool f leave the
grand old mother of Pres dents, as dear y
as they loved her, and never again put their
feet upon her soil.” These “dudm” hail
raise t amo igst themselves a large sum of
money WAii which they had employM two
of the ablest lawyers m the (State to assist
the Oomtnomwealtb's attorney.
Virgil, ascertaining from her employer,
her friends and her confessor, that the girl
whom Fancy had insulto 1 bore an irre
proachable character, had volunteered to
act as counsel for the defense.
The trial was to commence at the May
term of the Hinting* Court, ad ihe nsu t
was awaited with intense anxiety by alt
class's.
Alter dinner on the even'ng of which we
write Virgil wrote for an hour. Then,
closing his office, he sauntered out for an
afternoon walk, and an hour late was seen
entering the home of the tobacconist.
Pauline and Milton were out riding: but
Mrs. Morris* was at home, and received our
hero with that cordiality so characteristic
of gentlewomen.
“Allow me, dear Mrs. Morriss, to con
gratulate you on your having risen to the
dignity of grandmother,"said Virgil, after
talking for some time with tne lady.
“Then you have heard the news?” cried
Mis. Mon i.s, laughing
“Yes, ma'am. I received a letter from
Bunvan to-day, and in it tie wrole that God
had given him a co laborer in the mis
siouary field—one of the loveliest, blue
eyed boys in tlie world. I presume Mr.
Morris* is beside himself with joy.”
“Oh, yes, returned the licly, laughing.
“He snys lie is going to Hindustan very soon
to see his grand on.”
At this juncture Pauline and Milton
were heard coming down the hall carollyig
one of their Sunday school hymns. A mo
ment later the two entered the room,
hand in hand.
“And here comes aunt Paulle.” exclaimed
Vi'gil, hastening forward to greet the
you g lady.
“Well, sir, how could you leave that
horrid old law ofiiee long enough to come
up town!” she cried, as she shook the ex
tended hand.
“Easily enough. I felt tired and lonely,
so I thought l would S| lend the evening
with my little sister. 1 want you to enter
tain me royally; you must sing ine some of
your sweetest songs, for I Rhn I not tie able
to visit you again until alter the trial
of David O’Laflerty. Pauline, you loos
unusually charming this evening. You
don’t look a day older than 14. How admi
ably a blue dress becomes you! What
tieautiful rosebuds! I wish I h and one of
them, and tne speaker’s eyes rested long
iglv upon three exquisite white buds at
the young 1 dy’s throat.
“It i.s uot manly to hint, str," was the
girl’s reply.
“Ah, indeed?” said Virgil, laughing, and
at the same time disclosing his tieautil u
white teeth, which ailvays impa ted un ir
resistible charm to bis laugh. “Mss Mor
ris-, will you please to give me a rose-bud?"
A coquettish gleam spa k ed in her dark
blue eyes. She hesitated a moment, ami
then, taking the most perfect of the three
buds, laid it in his hand.
“Thunk you," he said, bowing. “I pre
sume Dr. Evans gave you these flowers, did
ue not?”
A mi chievous light shone in his eyes as
lie asked tlie question. A look of vexation
p issed over the girl’s countenance.
“Dr. Evans and 1 are uo longer friends,
indyou know it, too, sir,” she cried. “As
Milton and 1 were alighting from the phae
ton lie was passing the house. Ho spoke to
Milton, but treated me as if I hail been an
entire stranger. I wonder if Paul Evaus
thinks I care for his airsf”
“Puulie, you treated Dr. Evans shame
fully. He says you have blighted his Imp
oiuess, and amo tuat you aie a heartless
flirt.”
“Because I rejected his offer of marriage?”
cried tlie young lady, her eve growing
lusky with indignation. “I didn’t love
hi n, and do you tni.ik I would ever marry
a man 1 ilidn t love?”
“But he says you led him to believe you
loved him.”
“I did no such Ihing, and he knows I
didn't. He dare not sny such a thu g in
my bearing,” and the fur speaker stamped
tier foot in her iiidiguat on. “I never in my
life attempted to play the role of coquette.
I coal'i not stoop to uuyt.ung so unwoman
ly. I had no idea that Dr. Evans cherished
ither than a friendly feeling toward mo un
til two weeks ago, when be asked me to be
come bis wife. I had always regarded him
ns I wou and a broth r—as I regard Buuyan,
Charlie ami Mil on.”
“Anil myself,” said Virpil, evidently hurt
at the omission of ms name in the list of
ciose for whom she cberis.iod a sisterly re
gard.
‘ Yes—T forgot—yes—you tori,” she stam
mered, a blush ove .s re id.ug her face.
But, fortu lately, V.rgil did not notice her
oonfus.ou, his attention at .hat mo nent.be
mg diverted by the entrance of Mr. Mor
riss.
“How are you, my boy?” cried the genial
tobacco ist. gras iug the you ig lawyer’s
Hand. “Have you cane to congratulate
grandpa and grandma? Virgil. lam oueoi
the happiest men in ihe word. I (eel at
this very moment as if I could sing t e “Tv
ileum” a dozen times. Ami nere is Miitoul
God bless the children. I wisii I had fifty, ’’
and the ge t.em n, h.s fat cheeks s inking
with 1 ugiite a id bis llu eyes aglow with
in ■rrime.i , s o >pe i aa l Kissod M.lcoii with
t ie warmth of a parent.
“Be tha, dear, I have some more good
news from over t> e ocean,” said Mr. Mor
riss, tur i mg to h.s .:e.
“You have?” asked the lady. “What la
it, Ph.ir
“I have ju't received a letter from Ftolfe
Wi o .bury, s.atiu ; that he and N umw in 1
F.o iue wou l sail in ale v weeks for New
York and arrive iu R.cauiouJ about the
first ol June.”
The vision of a dark, beautiful girl, with
flowing raven hnr, aro-c i e ore Virg.T
mind, and, and -spite his elf n't io cast tne
mu e awav, it n inn ted him t iroijh uttlie
oven, ig anil eveu appeared in u,s dreams
that night.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
What a Change!
A few short weeks ago that young girl
was the personification of bo lit i, vigor and
beauty. The blush upon her cheeks rivalled
that of the rose; her step was light and
buoyant, her e' ery movement was a revel: -
tiou of pel fct physical health. Yet now
she .s pahid mil haggard, and her super
abundant v.tality has given place to u
s range dul.ness and lassitude. What has
nmol this change? Functional irregu
larilies, which can be cured by Dr. Pierce’s
“Favor.te IJ.C'Ci'.ption,”l J .C'Ci'.ption,” a remedy t > wnieh
thousands m women to-day owe their lives.
Ail druggists.
Black. Nutt and Brown Stiff Hats, the
latest, at Belsinguf’s, 34 YVUituker street.
PIANOs.
hi® v aurnns
Sold In Savannah Alone.
Satisfaction in Every Instance Recorded.
Sweet Singing; Quali'y of Tone Excellent
Durability First-Class Material
and Workmansh o.
Low Price*. I<:iy Irii-tlallments,
WARRANTED for six years.
SCHREINER'S MUSIC HOUSE.
DltY OOOIW.
PSlj’s Bit Dress Goods.
Ilf E to announce that w* have In stock 25 different tyle* of the celebrated English maim
t f t’ac untr, I’iUESTLEY. Th\<e goods are as well known among laditw aa Coates’ Spool Cot
ton and we therefore take pleasure in c tiling nttentl >r to them. Thev comprise in part of;
TRIISTLEY’S Silk War)) Henrietta 010 hat 76e., $1 and 20.
PRIESTLEY S Ravenna Cloth, entirely new tliis season.
PRIESTLEY'S Drnpde Alma, always desirable.
PRIESTLEY'S Melrose Cloth, a beautiful design.
PRIESTLEY’ S Panama Cloth: I his Is nn exceedingly handsome clotlx
PHIESTI.KY S Black India Cloth; everybody admire* ik
I’KIES i’i.EY’S Silk Warp Melrose Clota.
I‘HIESTL Y’S Black Diagonal Cloth.
PIUKSTI.KY S Black Hortense Cloth. •
PKIESTLEY’S Satin Strirxsl C! Cl
rniKSTI.KY’s All Wool X ill’s Veiling.
P IKSThKY’S Silk Warp Nun's Veiling.
PHIESTLEY’S Cashmere do Inde; cxtraorfllnarily beautiful.
We call attention to the fact that our prices are strictly the
lowest In the market, and invite ladle? to examine these goods
and compare prices. There Is nothing out this season in
FANCY DRESS GOODS
Which we have not in fttook. We claim that our V>re*s Goods stock Ir superior to anything yet
seen in this city, and we claim to !>• able to sell the U*st ■ odnat such prices at. hich only medium
qualities can be purchase?i el.sewnere We know talk is cli a We as< you to inveutifc.ite. If vvo
do not come up to promise we can't make you pure as *. Hence we cordially invito you to call
apd satisfy yourself wlietlier our promises are good or not W’e hav* more to risk tnan you have
In making this am.ouncetnent. We risk our reputation. You risk a little of your time.
Do You Think We Can Afford to Sham?
If we have convinced you of the above facts, wo beg you to look through our Silk, Velvet and
Plush stocks.
OUR BLACK AND COLORED SILKS
Are lmipiestionahlv of the t>est wearing Silks in the market* Wo warrant every yard to give
s tisfaeti >n. We have them at nil price*. We would kiudlv a k you to eramine our $i aud $1 35
{■blks. We feel that we can justly brag of tuem. You need not buy any, but we would like you to
know what we have.
Our Silk Plushes and Silk Velvets
Are of every shade and line in plain and fancy designs. We also desire you to see our Moira
Satins. They are very pretty and cheap.
Braided and Beaded Trimmings.
We have everything In that Un" to be found only In the most extensive trimming houses 1b
New Yor <, and w'e also insist that our prices are much below the fancy prices you have to pay for
them elsewhere.
Our English Walking Jackets, Dolmans, Wraps,
Tailor mad*, in Plush. Velvet. Silk, Cloth and Fancy Material*, l* unsurpassed in stria, general
make-up. assort nent and prices. Y<m cannot off rd to *L<wtien*. it is absolutely
neeesKary that you nee our at *ck aud judtf* for yourself lief no purchasing. Remember, we do
not nsk you to take this all in good tail Abut io investigate what wo h:..v said, ok it is to your
bruetlt as well os ours.
Dll IT MM E TILS SA M P LES.
We have purchased a large lot of Drummer’s Sample* at 50c. on the dollar, and offer them
correspondingly low. They comprise Hai.d in.ule Knitted T iboggan*. Infant's Sacquos, Infant’s
ram. Silk and Worsted St*M aud Mitt* Also, a large Ifnc of Infant's and Children's Marina
Embroidered fcacques and Cloaks.
OUR BAZAR
Contains a most superb stock of all kinds of FANCY GOODS
Plush and heather Work Boxes,
Plush and licather Manicure ( itses.
) lush uinl 1 leather Shaving Cases.
Funs of the most elegant designs In Lace nnd Ostrich.
Feathers, Bisque and Bronze Figures, and thousands of other elegant articles
suitable for Wedding Presents, etc.
This Week We Offer in Our Bazar Two Articles at Special Sak
100 dozen full regular SE \MLEBB EALBKIGGAN LADIES’ HOSE at 10u., which cannot be
had elsew .ere for Uvis than 35c.
250 dozen 4o inch DAMASK TOWELS at 10c., worth 25c.
David Weisbein,
133 liDOIT.IiTON STREET.
MM & ABRAHAMS,
158 BROUGHTON STREET, 7
New and ZReiSTLiozo-aTble
CLOTHING!
IST eo'kwear,
Slb-±x*ti3,
CT nderwear,
XT mlDirellßS,
Rub ber Coats.
Latest stylos in TI\T3. host $1 SHIRT in the city.
Suns mini- io order. Sa’isfaeiion guaranteed.
I* \ IM’I KS in the COUNTRY can have goods expressed
C. 0. L). Irei u 1 charge, with pnvihge of returning if not
M ENKEN & ABRAHAMS.
NEW YORK OFFICE,
U.V) hH<l': 1 -I•>
RUBBER PAINT.
JAS. B. MACNEAL, President. JAS. E. TATETvTcePrSidenti^'
RUBBER PAINT COMPANY",
O F B A LTI M ORE, MD .
SOLE MANUFACTURERS OF
(Under U. 8. Patents.)
RUBBER ROOFING PAINT.
Liverpool. England,
EimoexAX Oksick:
30 TITHEBAUN, BT.
Baltimore, Md., U. B.A.
Ms is Okkiok.:
H 4 8. CALVERT ST.
The Best Paint In exiate ice for Tin, Iron, Metal, Felt and Shingle loots, and all exposed Metal
Su, faces, also for Cars, Wagons, Bridges, Fences, Cloth and Leather Coverings.
NEW AND OLD ROOFS MaDK WATER TIGHT AND TO LAST FOR YEARS.
IT IS THE M ST ECONOMICAL AND THE BEST.
One gallon covers UOJ square feet on tin or iron roofing, and 100 square feet on shingles or
wooden roofing.
Ii tsan excellent paint for painting brick walls of Houses where parties are troubled with damp
walls.
Price 60 cents per gallon. Any one can apply the paint with a common whitewash brush. Send
all orders to our wholesale agents.
A P. TRIPOD. Atlanta. Ga.
BLODGETT, MOORE A CD., Savannah or Augusta. Ga , and Jacksonville, Fla.
N. B.—Cent rants taken for painting roo s.
mui, uww, Hum, no.
Pnxddent. SAVANNAH, GA Beet y iuU Tran*
LUMBER.
CYPRES?,, OAK, POPLAR, YELLOW PINE. ASH, "WALNUT.
Manufacturers of rash, do ms. bunds mouldings of an kinds and description
CASINOS an 1 TRIMMINGS for nl, clauses of dwelling!, PEWS and P W ESDSof oar own
design and maiufact ira, f K > ID and SCR ILL BALOSI’ERS, Aoil HANDLES for Cotton
Hooks, CEILING, FLOORING, WAINSCOITING, SHINGLES.
Warehouse and Up-Town Office: West Broad and Broughton Sts.
Factory and MJIs: Adjoining Ocean Steamship Co.’s Wharves
PHILADELPHIA, PA
Omen
114 ARCH STREET.
NEW YORK, N. Y.
Oitick:
309 WATER STREET.
5