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the best of the bargain.
I’T.ORENCK E. PRATT.
Sally an' n:e was courtin', an like enough ter
hr splleed.
tVhen I lieern o' >uthin T calkilate needn't be
! i.l'! mo twiate:
I'er when we rtruv ter the village my fun was
alias spiled
Jly the folks a-nudgiu an’ snickerin', till their
actin' made me riled.
fai I clinn right emit of the waggiu’ fer Dobbin
wouldn't skeer.
An’l went straight up ter a gawky, an’ sez I,
•‘ow look a-here,
What be ye lafllu at, darn ye! a winkin' at me
an' Sal?"
• tv’y,' he sez, “yeou're drivin' an old white hoss
an' iKMUiin’ a red haired gal!
Anybody'll tell ye, an' it needn't git ye cross.
Wharever tliar’s a red-haired gal yeou’ll see an
old white hoss.”
The crowd all sez: “W'y, sartin,’’ so up to my
seat I clum,
Shook up the lines on Dobbin an 1 thought
ful meandered hum.
After a power o’ tliiukin' 1 traded the hoss next,
day
Ter Jededier Hawkins thet lives deown the vil
lage way.
J bed an oneasy feelin’ thet I'd swopped him at
a loss,
Put I vowed I'd nitber stick ter the gal and dew
without the hoss.
Wall, I went one day ter Sally's, whar I’d often
been afore.
An' it tuck me aback, fer the old white hoss
was a standin’ afore the door;
An' under the honeysuckles, as cotnferable as
ver please. ,
Was Jededier with Sally, a-helpin' her shellin’
peas.
1 went hum stayin' nuthm', fer 'twarnt no use
ter fuss,
An’ I set deown eout in the woodshed an’ ru
minated thus;
“Things is agin ye, Hiram; deown in yeour
profit and loss
Veou ain't got nothin’ ter put against yer gal
an’ a good strong hoss.
Things is agin ye, Hiram; better ter be re
signed ;
(let used ter seein' thet old white hoss with Sally
an' him behind."
It sorter seemed ter console me when I thought
what folks had said,
Thet tiler's alius a pesky temper inside of a car
rot head.
Jieow they’re up an’ married, an’ ter day Jed
come ter me
An' begged me ter take back Dobbin: “I'll trade
him cheap.” sez he.
Hut I shook my head an' answered: “I'm afraid
thet wouldn't dew.”
Fer Sally is dretful shrewish, an' I dreaded thet
she'd come tew. — The Judge.
MORNING NEWS LIBRARY NO. 8.
ROMANCE OF RICHMOND.
BY WALTER M. RICHMOND.
Copyrighted , 1887, by J. H. EstUl■
1
CHAPTER XIII.
A pure heart
That burns to akhes. yet conceals its pain
For fear it mar its hopeless source of love.
Is not to be despised, or lightly held.
— Boker.
“Oh, Miss Paulie, he is acquitted—David
is acquitted I’’
And, wild with joy, Milton performed a
double somersault upon the grass, ending his
acrobatic feat in one of Pauline’s flower
beds, and ruthlessly crushing more than a
dozen verbenas growing therein.
‘‘Look, you young monkey, what you
have done!” said Pauline, pointing to the
crushed flowers, and endeavoring to ap
pear angry, although she could scarcely re
frain from laughing outright.
A sorrowful look instantly swept over the
boy’s face.
“Miss Paulie, please don’t get mad,” be
cried, clasping his arm around her waist.
“Please don’t get angry with me. I'll go
right*straight to the flower garden and
buy some verbenas just like the ones I’ve
broken.”
“You shall do no such thing, Milton. I
am not angry with you, darling. If you had
broken every flower in the yard, I could not
find it in my heart to be angry with my
little Romeo,” and she passed her hand car
essingly over his head. “Never mindabout
the broken flowers. Tell me about the trial.
Are you just from the court house!”
“Yes, ma’am. As soon as I could get
through the crowd after the reading of the
verdict, I came up town to tell you the good
news, and then to think how thoughtless I
was to break Vour flowers!”
“Don't mention those averbenas again.”
said Pauline.
“Then you are not angry with me i”
“No, Miiton.”
“Not a bit!”
“No.”
“Well, to show you have forgiven me.
will you kiss mel” and he slyly raised his
blue eyes to the young lady’s face.
“Certainly,” she answered, laughing, and
stooping she kissed his lips, forehead and
hair. “Now, are you satisfied, sir?”
“Perfectly,” replied the boy, as a deep
flush came into the dimples of his cheeks.
“Well, let us take a seat in the honey
suckle arbor,” proposed Pauline.
Saying which, she and her comprnion re
paired to that spot.
“Now, I want you to tell me all about the
trial,” said the girl. “I presume Virgil’s
argument was eloquent.”
“Eloquent,” repeated Milton, his eyes
aglow with enthusiasm. “I should say it
was! Brother commenced speaking at 11
o’clock, and kept everybody spellbound for
three hours —the Judge, the jury and the
spectators. The court house, hall, win
dows and pavement were nil just packed,
and thougn it was so awfully hot, uot a
soul stirred while brother was speaking.
Everybody kept his eves fastened on him as
if he'had been old Cicero just come to life.
I couldn’t tell you the number of times he
had the Judge and jury wiping their eyes
—indeed everybody cried at times. Brother
talked so feelingly and beautifully that the
people, you know, couldn't help crying. I
cried too. Oh, Miss Paulie, you just ought
to have seen brother! Oh, he did look so
grand, so beautiful! I tell you what 1 let
everybody around me know lie was my
brother. I’d have given a hundred dollars
if old Bob Winters had been there. You
know Bob is always bragging at school of
llis being a descendant ot Patrick Henry.
But I assure you be never brags about his
grown brother! Why? Because he can’t
do it—because his grown brother is one of
i hese fancy fellows. His forehead is so soft
that if you were to touch it witli your
linger the flesh would give away and your
huger would go right through to the brains,
ft he has any. It seems to me that the de
scendants of groat and noble men like Pat
rick Henry ought to live in a manner that
would reflect honor upon the memory of
their ancestors. Don’t you think so, Miss
Paulie!”
Miss Morriss smilingly bowed assent. The
boy continued:
“A few minutes after 2 o’clock brother
concluded his argument, aud the crowd was
just about to make the old court house ring
with their cheers when the Judge arose and
threatened to fine every person who in
dulged in such barbarous conduct, as he
called it. I heard everybody praising
brother in the highest terms, and I heard
one gentlemau remark to another: 'That,
fellow Paine is a trump as sure as you live.
He is a young man of whom Richmond is
proud, and it will not be long before the
whole State and country also will lie proud
of him. lam happy to say he is my towns
man!’’ Oh, Miss Paulino, you don t know
how happy I felt, because it was about my
own dear orother they were talking. If I
had had room in the court house, 1 w ould
have performed a double somersault right
then and there. As soon ns brother took his
seat, Mr. Perkins, one of the lawyers, you
know, that assisted the Commonwealth’s
Attorney, arose and close: 1 the argument for
the prosecution, and a grand old argument
it was I He walked up nnd down the plat
form as nervously as a hyena and threw his
arms this way and that way ns if ho was
trying to keep off a swarm of hornets or
yellow- jackets, aud every live minutes or
more he wonkl get so mad he would give a
howl like a sea lion. The way he did try to
imitate brother certainly did amuse me.
But, goodness! the way he did talk vulgari
ty and curse aud abuse people disgusted me!
He called poor David a 'blood-thirsty, law
less son ot Erin;’ he spoke of brother as a
'renegadearistocrat;'and the low. cow ardly,
uugeutlenianly manner iu which he spoke
of poor Biddy O’Lafferty, jnude me feel as
if I wanted to knock every one of his teeth
down his throat. And, to cap the climax,
he said that Fancy had died the death of a
martyr. He went oil in this foolish, senti
mental strain until 4 o'clock, when the oaso
was submitted to the jury. After being
out five minutes, the jury returned a ver
dict of 'not guilt}'.’ As soon as court was
dismissed everybody rushed forward to
grasp brother’s hand and to congratulate
him. Old Mrs. Laffcrty rail up to him, and,
pulling his head on her breast, kissed him
and cried and called on God, Jesus, the
Blessed Virgin, the saints, and everybody
else in heaven to bless the noble man, who,
she declared, had saved her boy from the
gallows or penitentiary I w-anted to go up
and tell brother how proud I was of him,
but I knew that I would have him all to my
self in a little while, when I could hug aud
kiss him as much as I wanted to. So I
pushed my way quietly through the crowd
and put out up town to tell you the good
news. I ran every step of the way. I was
so afraid Mr. Morriss might tell you first.”
Milton paused a second. Then exclaimed:
“Miss Paulie, aren’t you proud of brother?”
‘'That I am, Milton,” replied the young
lady. “Morning, noon and night for five
years I have never neglected to pray for his
success, and now that my prayers have been
answered, no one rejoices at his success more
deeply than I do.”
“I have always prayed for brother’s sue
cess, too,” said Milton; “but there is some
thing else I have prayed for too, Miss Pau
lie,” and a mischievous gleam twinkled in the
boy’s dark blue eyes.
“What else have you prayed for Milton?”
asked Pauline, without the least suspicion of
what the lad meant.
“That you and brother would love each
other iu a sweetheart way—you know like
Romeo and Juliet loved each other—and that
von and he would get married. Oh, Miss Pau
lie, Ido love you so—so much —indeed bet
ter than anvbody else in the world except
brother. Vou are so good, so sweet, so
beautiful!” and here the boy, in an uncon
trollable outburst of affection threw his
arms around Pauline’s neck aud pressed kiss
after kiss upon her cheek.
“God bless you, my darling,” said the
young lady, as she gently brushed a lock of
tair back from his beautiful brow. “If
you were my own deal- little brother, I
could not love you mors than I do. You
are a part of my life. But I wish you to dis
card at once such an idea as that of Virgil
and I ever becoming man and wife. His
affection for me is only of a brotherly na
ture. How often does he speak of the
striking resemblance I bear to your sister
Beulah, who, if she were living, would lie
just about my age —21. Virgil loves me as
he would a sister—that is all, Milton.”
An expression of ineffable sadness clouded
the girl’s face, and a heavy sigh uncon
sciously broke from her lips. Neither the
look nor the the sigh escaped Milton’s no
tice.
“But you love brother in a sweetheart
way, don’t you, Miss Paulie?” he asked.
The young lady started and turned
dealthv pale If a thoughtless schoolboy
of only 12 years had discovered her secret,
she felt sure that Virgil—a keen, observant
lawyer—must long ago have known that she
loved him. And if he did know her secret,
despite her efforts to conceal it, how could
she ever again look him in the face? Oh,
how deeply was her proud heart stung!
Milton stood intently w’atehing her, and
presently, with childish sympathy, said:
“Don’t mind what I sail, Miss Paulie.
Brother shall never hear from my lips that
you love him. I would throw myself in
James river before I would do such a thing.
I love you too Well. Cheer up, Miss Pau
lie. Look your sweetest now. Brother’s
c ining. You'll be my sister one of these
days. I know it; I feel it!”
While the boy was speaking the great
massive gate swung open, and a second
later Mr. Morriss and Virgil, arm in arm.
were seen coming up the walk. Milton
darted forward and caught hold of the lat
ter’s hand. But Pauline remained in her
seat. The musical laugh that broke from
the lips of the young lawyer as he stooped
and kissed his little brother floated to the
poor girl’s ears like the sweet melody of
some petted songster that has escaped from
our home and flown forever beyond our
grasp.
Presentlv Virgil glanced toward her and
bowed. He then started across the grass to
ward the arbor. Cruel monster! What
right had he to intrude upon her society!
“Pauline!”
How her heart throbbed at the sound of
that gentle voice!
“Well, sir,” she answered, rising, and en
abled by a great effort to look him coldly in
the face.
“Pauline, what is the matter ?” he asked
in his gentlest tones as he took her hand iu
his own. “There are tears in your eyes.
Wbat troubles you, little sister? Have you
discovered since y ur rejection of Dr. Ev
ans’ suit that, after all, you loved him ? If
so, I will bring him again to your feet.
Cheer up, Pauline. I don’t like to see a
shadow resting upon my little sister’s
face. You are dear—very dear—to your
brother's heart.”
Oh, how uohle and gentle he was! How
could she help loving him? Had heaven de
creed that he was never to be to her more
than a brother? Would the turn never
come when his heart all her own, she could
lay her weary head on that strong, manly
bosom, and, looking up in the soft dark
depths of those eloquent eyes, murmur:
“Virgil, my husband!” and hear him, in
tones, sweet and low, respond: “Pauline,
my wife!”
“Pauline!”
The girl started and blushed, greatly to
her mortification. How silly and unwom
anly of her to indulge in such thoughts!
What if Virgil had read those thoughts!
While his noble nature would of course pity
her, yet she felt that his admiration for her
would be dimmi hed.
“Pauline, may I have a spray of this cit
ron aloes?” he asked, placing his thumb and
forefinger upon the sprig he Wished to cull.
“Help yourself, sir,” she replied, indiffer
ently.
Virgil looked at her in a puzzled man
ner.
“Sir!” he repeated. “Pnnline, what do
you mean by speaking to me in that frigid
way? What have I done to vou? What
has come over you of late? You seem to
have some secret grudge againt me. In the
society of Milton you are a- happy and frol
icsome as a little child—as Milton himself;
but whenever I approach you a shadow
seems to fall upon you. All gayety vanishes
from you, and in a moment you seem trans
formed into an iceberg. ”
She made no reply; out, assuming an air
of perfect indifference, fixed her gaze upon
Milton, who stood at her side. An expres
sion of annoyance was actually visible upon
her face. Her conduct offended Virgil; he
feared his presence annoyed her; and, drop
ping her hand, he said, as he haughtily
shrugged his shoulders:
“Puuline, your father insisted upon my
dining with him to-day, and thinking I
might spend a pleasant eveniug here, I
cheerfully accepted the invitation; but
since my presence has of lute grown so dis
tasteful to you—since you cannot conceal
your dislike to uie—l will cancel my accep
tance of vour father’s invitation and spend
the afternoon among my books.”
“Just as you please, sir,” she said, coldly,
though beneath this mask of indifference
her proud young heart seemed as if it would
break.
“Thank you. Good evening. Miss Mor
riss,” and, with a bow, he crew ed the yard,
ascended the steps, and, exchanging a few
words,with the tobacconist who stood in the
porch talking folds wile, the young lawyer
descended the steps, passed down the walk
and out into the street, looking neither to
the right nor to the left.
“If he weren’t my brother, I would hate
him for that smartness,” said Milton, his
eyes growing dusky with indignation.
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1887.
"The flattery he has received to-day has
doubtless turned your brother’s head,"
said Pauline, scornfully. “Come, Milton,
let us go in. ”
And, taking the boy by the hand, the
young lady crossed the yard aud joined her
pareuts on the porch.
“What on earth have you said to Virgil?”
asked Mr. Morriss and his wife simultane
ously, looking at their daughter iu a bewil
dered manner.
“You ought to have asked the gentle
man," answered Pauline, carelessly. "As I
remarked to Milton a second since, I fear
his success has softened his brain. Milton,
dear, go to the stable and tell Jake to hitch
Rena to the phaeton and lead her around to
the front door as soon as he can."
Thus saying, Pauline repaired to her room
to change her dress and put on her hat.
Ten minutes later she joined Milton in the
ball below, and the two passed out of the
house, reaching the sidewalk just ns the
horse and phaeton halted before the gate.
Milton, with boyish gallantry, assisted
Pauline into the vehicle, after which betook
a seat beside herand grasped the reins. Up
Grace to the college; thence across to Grove
road and for two miles up tnat beautiful
avenue they leisurely rode. During the
whole drive Pauline seemed to be in an un
usually gay mood; she talked and laughed
with her youthful companion, and petted
and complimented him as though nothing
unpleasant had occurred. She made frequent
and enthusiastic allusions to the bright bl e
sky above, and the verdant foliage of the
trees on either side of the avenue, and twice
she alighted from the phaeton to gather
laurels and wild roses growing along the
margins of the creek that runs parallel with
the road.
Milton watched her during the whole
drive in a mizzled manner, and, on their
way to the citv, said:
“Miss Paulie, will you forgive me for
what I said this afternoon. I thought you
loved brother, but your conduct this even
ing proves that I was mistaken in my sus
picions."
‘•Love your brother! How presumptuous
of you, dear, to think such a thing!” and a
low, contemptuous laugh followed this
evasive reply. “Love him! Do you think I
could love so cold and haughty a man as
Virgil Paine—a man who pays more homage
to the god of ambition than he does to the
God that made him?”
A resentful light sprang to the boy's eyes.
He could not bear to hear even Pauline
speak in such a manner of his brother.
“You wrong brother deeply,” he ex
claimed, his feelings w mnded, “by accus
ing him of paying more homage to ambition
than he does to God. I never in my life
heard him speak in such a manner of you.
He always speaks of you in the tenderest
way, and never does he pray that he does
not ask God to bless his little sister, as he
calls you, and all those near and dear to
your heart. ’ Oh, Miss Paulie, if you knew
how much brother loves God andliow hard
he tries to obey Him in all things; if you
knew how he does love to read the Bible,
and how often he sheds tears while he is
leading the beautiful Psalms of David; if
you knew how hard he tries to do unto others
as he would have them do unto him; if you
knew how hard he ondeayors to keep me
from society of bad boys and to bring me
up iu the wisdom of God; if you could see
him every morning and night as he winds
ills arms around my neck, and hear him ask
God, for Jesus’ sake, to cleanse us from all
our sins, to keep us from pr.de and worldli
ness, selfishness and uncharitableness, false
hood and dishonesty, and all other sins, you
would not speak of brother in the way you
did. Oh, Miss Paulie, when he sa} s ‘Our
Father in Heaven,’ you cannot imagine
what a sweet feeling comes over me! I feel
that God is indeed oar Father, and that He
is standing right beside me. If all bovs had
such a brother as I have, they would soon
learn to love God; they would think religion
sweet instead of dull. It is through the in.
fluence of my own noble Christian brother
that I have given my heart to Jesus!”
A tender, peaceful light illumined the
boy’s beautiful face, and, pausing a minute,
he said:
“Miss Paulie, I don’t believe you even
like brother. Oh, it would break my heart
if you and he should become enemies.
Please make friends with him the next time
you meet him. Please, Miss Paulie!”
Pauline’s heart was touched; but, unwill
ing to spoil the little ruse she had thus far
played to perfection, she turned away her
head to hide her emotion from her young
companion.
Ten minntes later they parted at her gate.
She stood for a moment watching the lad as
he hurried down Grace street, ana then went
slowly up the walk, muttering to herself;
“Tuank heaven! My little ruse succeeded
admirably! I had no idea of allowing that
child to think I loved his brother!: Ah,
Milton, you think you were mistaken in
your suspicions, and'l am willing you should
think so; but, ah, child, you know not what
a wretched heart I carried beneath my mask
of gayety. You have yet to learn that the
proud hide their sorrows and secrets from
the world.
“We laugh when our souls are the saddest,
We shroud all our griefs in a smile,
Our voices may warble their gladdest
And our hearts moan in anguish the while.
And our-eves were a summer's bright glory
When winter is wailing beneath;
And we tell not the world the sad story
Of the thorns hidden back of their wreath."
CHAPTER XIV.
“Oh, be site high in all the people's hearts.”
—Shake xyeare.
The remainder of the day V irgil was en
gaged receiving the congratulations of his
numerous friends on his last a id greatest
effort in court. At night he was serenaded
by one of the finest bands in the city, to
which compliment he responded in a brief,
eloquent speech. The papers of the next
morning each contained a synopsis of his
argument, besides paying glowiug tributes
to his character and genius.
“Oh, brother, I am so proud of you!”cried
Milton, throwing aside one of the morning
papers ha had heeu reading, and looking
fondly up into his brother’s face. “Wouldn’t
poor mamma, and papa too, bo proud of
you if they wer living? I wonder what
Dr. Douglas ill say when he reads all these
compliments the papers pay you? I believe
I will send him a copy of eacii of the pa
pers, in case ho doesn’t subscribe to any of
them.”
"You shall do nothing so immodest,
brother mine,” said Virgil. “Such an act
would only serve to deepen his dislike to me.
He would then be justifiable iu thinking me
an ‘insolent upstart’—the term he applied to
me in his anger when I dared to place my
veto upon his taking you away from us.”
Uncie Jerry, at this juncture, entered the
room, holding in his left hand a note aud a
small bouquet of white roses framed in
with rose and apple-geranium leaves.
The old negro" acted in the capacity of
janitor for his young master, and, despite
his extreme age, acceptably performed the
duties of his position. Aunt Rachel, we
failed to state m the twelfth chapter, was
ilead, the old uegross having survived Mrs.
Paine only a few months.
“Mars Virgil, here am a note and a bunch
of pretty flowers what some young lady
passin’ de door ax me to gib yer. She was
a might likely little cretur, but, Lord, as
shy as a ground squirrel. I was sweepin’
off de sidewalk when she comes along, and
all of a sudden she slips de flowers and note
in ray hand. ‘Gib dem to Mr. Paine,’ sez
she, and wid dat she shoots off down de
street as if de police w i arter h r. ’Pears
to me, Mars Virgil, you’sc a mighty faborite
wid de ladies. But I don’t wonder at it all,
when you’se de likliest and de smartest and
most piousest young gemmen in de city."
And with a broad, gool-natured grin
Uncle Jerry handed the flowers nnd the
note accompanying them to his young mas
ter, and seating himself near his “boys,” as
he delighted to call Virgil aud Milton, the
old man waited anxiously to learn the con
tent* of the perfumed note.
Virgil was an ardent aumiror of flowers,
and who can be truly good and noble who
is not?
lie grasped the bouauet ns eagerly as a
child grasps a sugar-plum, and five minutes
act ualTy elapsed ere he laid it down. Then,
unfolding the note, he read the contents
aloud:
“Richmond, Va., May 28, 18—.
“ Virgil Warwick Paine , Esrj.: Dear
Sir—l send you these flowers to I t you
knowhow I admire you for speaking so
feelingly and beautifully of us working
girls and for denouncing so fearlessly that
class of men who think because we are poor
and humble they can intrude themselves
upon us and insult us on all occasions. Oh,
Mr. Paine, you don’t knowhow we working
girls do love you for taking our part so
manfully. Don’t think me forward for send
ing you these flowers. 1 feel bound, sir, to
express my gratitude to you in some way. I
have committed a great many blunders;
but I know your uolile nature will readily
overlook all rav errors, as the writer is
"Only a Poor Box Factory Girl.
"P. B.—l send you white flowers, because
I believe them to lie emblematic of your
character—spotless. ”
As Virgil refolded the note and dropped it
into his vest pocket, he exclaimed:
“If this little gilt had come from Queen
Victoria, instead of this modest child of
toil, I would not appreciate it as highly as I
do.”
The young lawyer, as he ceased speaking,
took up the Bouquet and selected therefrom
the most exquisite full-blown rose. Then,
opening the Bible, which lay upon a table
near him, he scattered the fragrant white
leaves of the rose over a favorite Psahn,
murmuring as he did so:
“By these leaves shall I always remember
my unknown friend.”
As he cl ised the sacred book a low rap
sounded upon the door. Old Jerry started
to answer the summons, but, before he had
fairly risen, Milton had opened the door
and was clasped in the arms of a corpulent,
benevolent-faced old gentleman.
Virgil’s face lighted u > with an expres
sion or pleasure as he hurried forward to
greet his visitor, who was no other than his
pastor.
“Good morning, Dr. Lansing,” exclaimed
the young lawyer, grasping the plump, soft
hand of the minister. “Take a seat, doc
tor.'’
“No, I thank you,” replied Dr. Lansing,
smiling as only that gentleman can smile.
“I have only a few moments to stay.”
With these words, the doctor called to
someone in the hall, and immediatelv a
negro man came into the room, bearing on
a silver salver an exquisitely-made wreath
of freshly-culled laurels which filled the
room with a delightful, intoxicating per
fume.
“Virgil,” said the venerable man of God,
his face aglow with mingled pride and joy,
“a large uumber of the ladies of Richmond
—ladies of every Christian denomination—
touched by the fender, beautiful tribute you
paid to their sex yesterday, and grateful to
you for the fearless manner in which you
denounced the insulters and betrayers of
womankind, called upon me in my study
half an hour ago, and requested me, as your
pastor, to visit you at once and entwine
about your brow the wreath of laurels as a
token of their admiration for your spotless
and heroic character.”
Virgil reverently bowed his head, and,
with equal reverence, the minister placed
thereon the crown of laurels. It was a
beautiful picture—indeed so beautiful we
feel unequal to the task of describing it.
Both gentlemen were deeply moved, and
as soon as the elder could command his
voice, he sad:
“My son, in your efforts to win the laurels
of earthly distinction, cease never to strive
to win also the crown of eternal life, which
the Master has laid up for him that over
eometh the world. Keep ever in your mind
the divine admonition. ‘Bethou faithfnl un
to death, and I will give thee a crown of
life.’ Let us pray,” and bowing his venera
ble head, the speaker poured forth a short,
fervent prayer, after which ho warmly
grasped the hand of each occupant of the
room, and, followed by his servant, took his
departure, to bear the young lawyer’s
thanks to the ladies for their beautiful token
of esteem.
“You’se had a mighty rough old hill to
climb, and many a time your poor young
foots liab trod on briars, but it ’pears like
now dat Ole Marster am clearin’ away de
rubbish and de thistles, and dat after all
you’ll be carried to de skies on flowery beds
of ease, ’steed of sailing through bloody
seas,” r< marked old Jerry, as Virgil placed
the wreath a id bouquet in the marble basin
beneath the hydrant.
It was now a few minutes of 11 o’clock,
and, as his presence was required at court
at that hour, Virgil put on bis hat an 1 re
paired to the court house, leaving the office
to the care of his faithful old servant in his
absence.
Milton accompanied his brother as far as
Capitol and Tenth streets, and there, meet
ing one of his schoolmates, directed his
steps toward the new fair grounds, where at
noon a match game of base ball between
two profess.onal clubs was to co nmence.
The next day was Sunday—a balmy,
cloudless May day. At 9 o’clock Milton,
looking irresistnly attractive in a white sut
of clothes, blue necktie and red stockings,
hurried off to Sabbath school.
Two hours later Virgil started forth to
church Despite the congratulations and
compliments he had r eeived fr m almost
every quarter, the young lawyer was not al
together happy this beautiful May Sabbath
as lie wended his way to the house of God.
He was thinking of Pauline. Her coldness
toward him of late troub ed him exceeding
ly; the cause of her strange conduct he did
not know; his nature was too lofty to cher
ish the detestable vice if conceit; therefore,
he had never for a moment dreamed of her
loving him. Indeed, be feared she was
growing to dislike him, but for what he
pquld not surmise: and his silly, childish
conduct of Friday afternoon he felt would
only serve to deepen that dislike. He had
not seen her since then; but he would proba
bly meet her at church this morning, and,
if she were willing, he would “make
friends',” and “let it all be as it was be
fore.”
As he came to this conclusion a feeling of
peace pervaded his soul, and, quickening
his pace, he soon reached Broad street. As
tie was moving along that thoroughfare he
heard asw et, feminine voice behind him
say:
"Barton, Ido believe that gentleman is
Virgil Paine.”
Withou thinking, Virgil turned instant'y
around, but failed l o recognize the couple
behind him.
The gentleman was a tall, “aristoeratio
looki’ig” personage of not more than 40.
His companion was a lady perhaps ten
years younger, strikingly beuutiful, and ele
gantly dressed.
As Virgil turned toward them the lady’s
rich olive face Hushed and eply with em ur
rassment. The y. ung lawyer, too, was con
fused.
“Pardon my rudeness, madam,” he said,
courteously bowing to the lady, “I thought
I heard someone call my name, and I
thoughtlessly turn'd around. Again,
madam, I ask your pardon, and you re also,
sir.”
And, with theseapologies, he was about to
hurry on, when the lady, having recovered
from her embarrassment, detained him, say
ing:
“It was I who uttered your name. Don’t
you know me, Virgil f”
Virgil longed at her in a puzzled manner.
Who was this lady that had addressed him
so familiarly?
“I am sorry, ma’am, I do not recognize
you,” ho replied, his embarrassment in
creasing, “and yet—yet—your face seems
familiar.”
The lady’s large black eyes sparkled mer
rily.
“And you don’t know me?” she asked, smil
ing. “Whv. I thought you would carry my
hated image to the grave with vou. Do you
not remember Adelaide Gresham, who, in
conspiracy with her uncle, the Rev. Dr.
Douglas, nearly six years ago, invaded a
country home in Culpeiier county, with the
purpose of taking therefrom a beautiful
golden-haired hoy? Do you not reineiu> er
how we we.e made to retreat by a no.de
luokiug, raven-haired youth, who fearlessly
confronted us, and, with wrathful m en and
flashing eyes, defied us to take from him the
littie brother, to whom he was so devotedly
attached?”
A low laugh broke from the Ups of our
hero.
“Ah. I raueinoer you now.” ha said.
grasping the lady’s hand. “I am happy to
meet you, my dear Mrs. Gresham, after the
lapse of so long a time.”
“Thank you,” said the lady. “Allow mo
to introduce you to my husband. Mr. Bar
ton Gresham, Mr. Virgil Paine.”
A warm hand-shaking between the gen
tlemen followed the introduction.
“I am delighted to form your acquaint
ance, Mr. Paine,” said Mr. Gresham, im
pressed, as his wife had been, with the
yo ng lawyer’s noble countenance. “You
deeply impress® 1 my wife on the occasion to
which she has just referred. During the
years that have elapsed since then she has
never forgotten you, and for t. e lust two
years has watched your career with the
deepest pride, my sister. Sirs. Judge Leon,
having, unbeknown to you, kept her con
stantly informed in regard to your prog
ress.”
“I am glad to learn I have so true a friend
in you, Mrs. Gresham," said Virgil, warm
ly.
“And I am glad to learn of the eminence
you have attained in your profession in so
short a time,” exclaimed Mrs. Gresham,
with equal warmth. “I know you were no
common boy, Virgil. I felt you were capa
ble of achieving great and noble tilings."
“Thank you, ma’am,” said the young law
yer, bowing.
“I am proud of you, Virgil—immensely
proud of you,” continued the lady. “Par
don my familiarity, please. I cannot call
you Mr. Paine. When 1 saw you last you
were only a school boy, wearing a short
jacket, and as such have I pictured you in
my imagination ever since. Indeed, you
seem but a boy still. Your face still wears
the innocent, boy sh expression it wore ufion
the memorable Decern tier evening nearly
six years ago when your manly conduct so
favorably iinpres-ed me."
After a pause the lady asked:
“And how is your little brother?”
“He is a large, healthy boy,” answered
Virgil. “He is progressing finely at school.
He is one of the liveliest children to be found
anywhere, but he is not at a;l bad, Mrs.
Gresham. Oh, I wish you could see him!”
“I think 1 saw him yesterday afternoon.
He weal's no curls now ?”
“Oh, no; he hasn't worn any since he has
been going to school. The boys called him
a girl the first day he went to school, and he
caine home in such a pasdou that afternoon
that I had lo go with him to the barber’s
and have his curls cut. off. He said he
wasn’t a girl, ami he didn't intend to wear
anything that would make him resemble
one ”
Mr. and Mrs. Gresham laughed.
“No genuine boy likes anything that sav
ors of efluninacy,” said the former. “I
wonder, Addie, if that boy we met yester
day was Mr. Paine’s brother. I wish now
we had stopped the carriage and asked the
little fellow his name.”
“I wish, too, that we had,” said the lady.
“Perhaps it was Milton,” said Virgil
“Where aid you see the boy you though
was he ?” f
“Near the new fair grounds,” replied Mrs.
Gresham. “We were riding slowly up the
Broad-street road ami midway between the
college and the hospital we met two boys
apparently 12 or 14 years old. They were
strolling along, arm in arm, singing the
'Sweet, By and By,’ and, as we passed
them, the one toward the carriage turned
his face full upon us, and, oh, it was such a
beautiful, expressive lace. Ills blue eyes
fairly danced with mischief, and the roguish
smile he threw at us made me feel as if I
wanted to jump out of the carriage and kiss
him. Ido love boys! This child I speak of
was the very image of the little fellow I
was so anxious to adopt, and I am sure he
and your brother are the same.”
“I think you are correct, Mrs. Gresham,”
said Virgil. “Milton went to the fair
grounds yesterday with a schoolmate of his
to witness a match game of base ball, and
they wore doubtless on their way home
when you passed them. ”
Tile trio had now leached the church in
which our hero worshiped, and pausing at
the western gate be said:
“Mr. G e ham, will you and your wife
worship with me to-day ?”
“No, thank you," replied the gentleman.
“A nephew of inije is to be confirmed at the
Monumental church this morning, and I am
anxious to witness the conti. illation. Mr.
Paine, you must call upon us at your earliest
convenience—to-morrow, if possible, as we
expect to return to Baltimore Wednesday.
We are stopping at Ju ige Loon’s.”
“Yes, by all means, come, Virgil,” insist
ed Mrs. Gresham, "aud don't forget to bring
Milton with you.”
“Thank you; I’ll call to-morrow after
noon. Good morning, Mrs. Gresham.
Good morning, Mr. Gresham.”
Lto be continued.]
Throat Disease. commence with a Cough,
Cold or Sore Throat. “Brown's Bronchial
Troches " give immediate relief. Sold only in
boxes. Price 25 cts.
COTTON SEED WANTED.
IS CENTO
Par Bushel (sl2 per ton) paid for good
COTTON SEED
Delivered in Carload Lota at
Southern Cotton Oil Cos. Mills
—AT—
SAVANNAH, GA.,
ATLANTA, GA.,
COLUMBUS, GA.
Price subject to change unless notified of ac
ceptance for certain quantity to be shipr>ed by a
future date. Address nearest mill a> aoove.
MEDICAL.
Mother^
FRIEND
MAKES -'EI 'sS
- ' C.H
o T.Z.A
CHILD - BIRTH Iz pi
it Min
EASY! £ 1 a|
—y—l—l H
Send for book “To Mothxes,” mailed tree.
Bradoteld Kr.ori.AToh Cos., Atlanta, (in.
WILL CURE swi
fProtruging nLtw.
Tf>ver Falla. Cure Guaranteed.
I T-r <‘ft p#r sox, AO cents and
\ [physician*' Jars, for use in their
J nrV*l<X. 52.6>
Or. Williams’ lndlsn Pile Ointment
la aolil b- *l’ In'-"*/eta. *r mailed on
•er* t of ifflft hr- the *
william. Ml 9 Cos., Cleveland, 0.
IIAIU BALSAM.
PARKER’S HAIR BALSAM ""
Beautified, clou uses and preserves the hair.
Keeps it soft and silsen. Promotes a luxuriant
growth. Always restores gray hair to its origi
nal color. Prevents hair falling and dandruff
Cures scalp diseases. 50c. at druggists.
11l V Ilk'lll’llllW Safest, surest and best cure for
111.’ l/LIIWII.'O thorns. Bunions, etc. Stops all
noiua Never t-ii-s •. curs. 16c. at drown.La
DRY GOODS.
Priestley’s Bluet Dress Goods.
WE beg to announce that we have in stock 25 different ■ tyle.s of the celebrated English manu
ft fae urer. PRIESTLEY. These goods arc as well known among ladies as Coates' spool Cob
ton and we i herefore take pleasure in calling attention to them. They comprise in part of:
PRIESTLEY'S Silk Warp Henrietta Clo.h at 73c., $1 and $1 25.
FIUKSTLKY’S Ravenna Cloth, entirely new this season.
PRIESTLEY'S Unipde Alma, always desirable
PRIESTLEY’S Melrose Cloth, a beautiful design.
PRI KSTLKY’B Panama Cloth; thia Is an exceedingly handsome clotl,
PRIESTLEY'S Black India Cloth; everybody admires it.
PRIESTLEY'S Silk Warp Melrose Cloth.
PRIESTLEY’S Blank Diagonal Cloth.
PRIESTLEY'S Black Hortense Cloth.
PRIESTLEY’S Satin Striiied Cloth.
PRIESTLEY'S All Wool Nun’s Veiling.
PRIESTLEY'S Silk Warp Nun’s Veiling.
PRIESTLEY’S Cashmere de Indo; extraordinarily beautiful
We call attention to the fact that our prices are strictly the
lowest In the market, and invite ladles to examine these goods
and compare prices. There is nothing out this season in
FANCY DRESS GOODS
Which wo faavo not in stock. Wo claim that our Dress Goods stock la superior to anything yet
sutfii in this city, and we claim to be able to sell the best roods at such prices at vhich only medium
qualities can be purchased elsewhere. We know talk is cheap. We ask you to investigate. If we
ao not come up to promise we can't make you pure oso. Hence we cordially invite you to coll
ami satisfy Yourself whether our promises are good or not. We have more to risk than you have
iu making this announcement. Wo risk our reputation. You rusk 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
Ait unquestionably of the host wearing Silks in tho market. We warrant every yard to rive
e tisfaction. We nave them at all prices. We would kindly ask you to examine our $1 and *125
Silks. We feel t bat we can justly brag of them. You need not buy any, but we would like you to
know what we have. •
Our Silk Plushes and Silk Velvets
Areof every shade and line in plain and fancy designs. We also deslrs you to see our Moish
Satins. They are very pretty and cheap
Braided and Beaded Trimmings.
We have everything In that line to It found only in the most extensive trimming houses In
New Y’ork, and we 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 made, In Plush, Velvet, 811 k, Cloth and Fancy Materials, Is unsurpassed in style, general
make-up, assortment and prices. You cannot afford to purchase elsewhere. It is absolutely
necessary that you see our stock and judge for yourself before purchasing. Remember, we do
not ask you to take this all in good faith, but to investigate what we have said, as it is to your
benefit os well as ours.
DRUMMER’S SAMPLES.
We have purchased a large lot of Drummer’s Samples at 50c on the dollar, and offer them
correspondingly low. They comprise Hand-made Knitied Toboggans. Infant's Saequea, Infant’s
Caps, silk and Worsted Stockings and Mitts. Also, a large lino of Infant’s and Children's Merino
Embroidered bacques and Cloaks.
OUR BAZAR
Contains a most superb stock of all kinds of FANCY GOODS:
Flush and Leather Work Boxos,
Flush and Manicure (’uses.
Mush and Leather shaving Oases.
Fans of the most elegant designs In Lace and Ostrich.
Feathers, Bisque and Bronze Figures, and thousand* of other elegant articles
suitable for Wedding Presents, etc.
This Week We Offer in Our Bazar Two Articles at Special Sale.
100 dozen full regular SEAMLESS BALBRIGGAN RADIES' HOSE at 10c., which cannot be
had elsewhere for less than ‘Sx.
260 dozen 40 inch DAMASK TOWELS at 10c., worth 2Sc.
David Weisbein,
1,i:; BROUGHTON ST HURT.
CLOTHING.
FULL DRESS
A Few of Our Specialties, with General Reference to
Our Capabilities as COMPLETE OUTFIT
TERS for the Male Sex.
•
FULL DRESS SUITS.
WHITE VESTS flow-cut) for Evening Dress or Special Occasions.
GEN IS’ SMOKING JACKETS.
The Famous JAEGER SYSTEM OF
SANITARY l UNDERWEAR
For Gents £ and Ladles.
Full Line <* of Sizes.
Second n Importation.
Full Line of the Always Popular PRINCE ALBERT SUITS. J
Gents’, Youths’ and Boys’ DIE IS and BUSINESS SUITS.
OVERCOATS.
CHILDREN’S SUITS. CHILDREN’S KILTS.
Popular Styles in H ATS.
GENTS’ BATHING GOWNS.
Immense Assortment of FINE, FANCY and PLATN UNDER
WEAR, NECKWEAR, GLOVES, COLLARS,
CUFFS, HOSIERY.
HUGEST AND COMPLETES! STOCK. GREATEST VARIETY. LOWEST PRICEi
161 Congress Street.
B. H. LEVY & BRO.
- -- -'l- 1 - 1 -- 1 ' 1 1 - - 11 ~gg
MItAiINERY.
KROUSKOFFS"
Opening of tin fall Sea 1887.
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 Hats in
the finest Hatter’s Plush, Heaver, 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,
at 35 cents
& fcliiSliOFFS HAMVMII MILLINERY HOUSE
BItULUUiU.N STIUSKX.
5