The morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, January 01, 1888, Page p‘, Image 5

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

WEARY. % f, nm i:,r .Yew York Mai'and Kxoreu. Ve- the mother's arms weary Where the baby's h -ad oas tain, \ o .j the aattv round* of duty i Vases. to begin again. • i ii vou your lives could rasbinn, or' could after at your will \\ ould you choose the tired aching? (>|- the empty anus mi l still? Better noise aiid heat?!iy clatter Tn.m an echo la the room, p dter floors beyotid suspicion U V the housemaid's brush and broom, Than to have the nest all empty. All the darling nestlings flown. And to sit in idle quiet, But to sit and mqSe alone. A jurel forms that vvatch above us. O'er our lives that: vigil keep. Often look in pityiug wonder— Wonder that we sit and weep; Knowing that our Father gives us Barest treasures, richest Joys; yiiu h of earth and some of heaven— In our baby girls and boys. m skmng nkws 1,1 braky >o. as. i;o\|.\\(T. OF Hli HMiiMi. BY WALTER M. RICHMOND. Copyrighted, 1887, by J. H. Estill< CHAPTER XXII. ••Oh' God, let my brother stay J need him the most—oh, me! how lone! If he passes from earth away— Oh beautiful Christ, for my poor sake hj m live for me, else my heart will break.” Father Kyan. The next day—Saturday —was clear and hot. At an unusually early hour the to bacconist’s family, with their youthful Charge, were up and dressed. They had elept but little during the night. Pauline was pale and haggard, and looked as if she had not slept for a week. Milton, too, was pale, and one could see at a glance that he had been weeping excessively. “Poor little fellow!” said Mr. Morriss to his wife at the breakfast table. “The child was crying at intervals through the whole night.” This was the morning on which they were all going to Louisa. All preparations for the journey bail been made the day before. But in their anxiety to bear something about Virgil, they had of course abandoned all thought of going away—at least for the present, After breastfast, Mr. Morriss turned to his wife and said; • Bertha, I am going down town to see if 1 can hear any news.” "Oh. T wish you would, papa.” cried Pau line, Tam dying of suspense.” ,! ust here the door was thrown violently open, and Uncle Jerry, his eyes looking as if they were about to leap from their sockets, rushed into the room, and, throwing his arms about Milton’s sooulder, cried: “Oh. honey, I didn’t know what in de name of God had become of yer. I’se bin lookin’ and ’quiring arter you all de moraiu’. Oh, my son, my son! Your poor dear brother hab bin shot in a duel, and am sinking as fast as he can. Ob, my Lord! My Loral De trouble and <B* tribulations of dis world will soon put de werried frame of Jeremiah Paine in de grave!” Without a word, without a tear, Milton struggled from the old servant’s embrace, and, with a moan, sank on the floor at Pau line’s feet and buried his head on her lap. The young lady neither moved nor spoke, but sat as if turned to stone. Mr. Morriss, as soon as he could command his voice, said: “From whom did you get your startling information, Jerry?” “AVhy, ain’t none of yer all beard noth in’’bout it,” said the old man. “Why, it’s on de bullington boards at de newspaper offices, and de way de people is flocking down on Main street and de ’citement dafc is ragin’ is awful!” “ Where was the duel fought?” asked Mrs. Morriss. “At you all’s farm, in Louisa county, mistress.” At this juncture two vigorous rings of the hell resounded through the house. Without watting for the servant to answer the sum mons, Mr. Morriss hastened to the door. In a minute he returned with an envelope in his hand. “A telegram,” he said, as he nervously broke the envelope. Instantly a hush fell on all in the room, and the gentleman proceeded to read the telegram: “Frederick's Hall, Louisa, Cos., Va., ) August 2.—9:20 A. M. | “To Philip C. Morriss— A duel be tween Virgil W. Paine, of Richmond, and Wallace Marvin, of Springfield, Mass., took place at daybreak this morning on your farm (Alabama) in the forest of young pines a half mile to the southwest of the house. “Paine fell at the first shot wounded in his left breast. He was removed at once to the house, w here he now lies in an uncon scious condition. His sufferings are .in tense. He is sinking rapidly. “Marvin escaped unhurt, and, with his friends, took the accommodation when it left here at ti o’clock for Richmond. A tele gram from Hanover Junction states that the party boarded the north bound mail which crossed the Chesapeake and Ohio road at 8:30. “If you wish to see Paine alive, you would do well to come up on the next train. He may survive the day, but it is extremely doubtful. “Paul Evans, M. D., Surgeon, “Peter Dabney, M. D., Surgeon.” “Good Lord! be with the poor boy! Do tiot cut him off in his unconscious state!” broke forth Mi's. Morriss, as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, papa, is there no train leaving the city before the accommodation?” asked Pau line. “Shall we have to wait until 4 o'clock this afternoon?” “Yes, my daughter. The mail, you know, left the city at 8 o’clock, and we must wait patiently until the accommodation leaves.” “But can we not go up on one of the freight trains?” asked the young lady. “VV hy, no, Paulie,” answered her father, smiling unconsciously at the absurdity of such a question. A look of inexpressible despair settled in the girl’s eyes: “Six hours to wait until we can leave the city, two hours and a half on the train, and a hour and half’s ride after we reach Fred erick’s Hall—by that time ho will probably be dead.” Such were the thoughts that passed through Pauline’s mind. “Pauline, my dear," said her father, presently. “Can’t you go with Milton down town and assist him to pack his trunk?” “It is already packed, sir,” said Milton, lifting his tear-stained face from Pauline’s lap. “Brother helped me pack it night be fore last.” “Well, then, I’ll see at once to having it carried to the dopot,” said Mr. Morriss. “Come, my son, and go with me down town.” Milton arose, and, with the tobacconist and Jerry, left the house A few minutes after their departure, Mrs. O’Lafferty, the mother of the youth whom Virgil liail defended in court a tew months previous, entered the room in a state of the wildest excitement and, dropping into a seat, criod: "Is it true—is it true that Histber Paine, the pride of our city, has been shot down like a dog by a divilish scoundrel like Fancy Brown, that insulted mo Biddy?” "it is true, Mrs. O’Lafferty, I am sorry to say,” answered the tobacconist’s wife, and taking up the telegram her hustiand had left on the tuble, she read it to her visiter, who listened attentively until the last sig nature had lieen read. Then dropping her head on the handle of a basket she held in her lap, the Irish woman sobbed as if her Davy had been shot instead of Virgil. “May Jesus and His blissed Mother lie with Mr. Paine!” she criod. “Bless his swat ,Uaud om face and koin, gintiemanly manner. 1 love him so dearly—"dado 1 do, Mistiness Morriss! Ivery time ho would meet me cn the street it' he had the toime he would slyike me hands as wnfinly its it he hml !>eeu shaking hands with the queen—Made lie would! Ah, how me heart goes out to him in his suffering. Faith, and I would lave me husband and children and go and nurse him, if he had no one to do it! Ah, it would break Judith O’Lafferty’s heart to see that iligaut gintlemau lowered in the grave! He was a friend to me and moine, and not till we are nil dead will the children and meself forgit to bliss him 1” With these words, Mrs. O'Lafferty arose to go. " ri on’t you stay longer, ma’am.'” asked Mrs. Mornss. . "No, l thank ye. Misthress Morriss. You are all going up to sqp Misther Paine, I sup pose.'" "Yes, Airs. O’Lafferty, we propose to leave on the afternoon train for Louisa.” “Well, then, if he be alive—and God knows I hope he will—l want von to tell him how Judith O’Lafferty aild her children are graved about bim, and that if their prayers can save his life, he will live till iviry hair of his foine head is gray. You will do this for me, Misthress Morriss?” "With pleasure, Mrs. O’Lafferty.” 1 "Thank ya Good morning, ma'am. Good by, me pet,”turning to Pauline. “Good morning. Mrs. O’Laffertjk” and, rising, Pauline accompanied the woman to the door. The latter went down the walk muttering a prayer for Virgil’s recovery. By noon the news of the duel had spread to the remotest parts of the city. From Rocketts to Harviotown, and from the ex treme northern limits of the city to the river’s brink, the profouudest sympathy was expressed for our wounded hero. In the luxurious homes of the rich and in the hum ble abodes of the poor, in stores and in workshops, in hotels, banks, and along the streets the sad affair was discussed in trem ulous voices, and not until the sun had sunk to rest did tho crowds about the newspa per offices begin to diminish. Most people believed that Florine had flirted with the young lawyer. Conse quently tho indignation against her and Marvin was intense. Many a fair odo was heard to declare that hanging would be too light a punishment".or such wretches. At a quarter to A o’clock the tobacconist’s family, with Milton anil Jerry, took their seats in the accommodation train. The cars-were all well filled, and the all-absorb iug topic among the passengers was the Paine-Mnrvin duel. “Isn’t it sad!" said a well-known mer chant to another by his side. “It has thrown such a gloom over my spirits.'’ “1 feel exactly as if a member of my fam ily had been shot,” replied the other gen tleman. “Paine is one of the finest young lawyers in the State, and it would be such a pity if be were to die! We cannot afford to lose such young men. I had hoped to see Paine in the gubernatorial chair at no dis tant day.” Directly behind Mr. Morriss and his wife two men, evidently sons of toil, were also discussing the affair. “If there is a gentleman in Richmond, Mr. Paine is one,” said one of the men, em phasizing his assertion with a toss of his head. “He Is a perfect gentleman—none of your mushroom aristocrats. He was the young lawyer who so nobly defended David O’Lafferty.” In front of Pauline and’Milton two young ladies were conversing with a young gentle man across the aisle. “I wish 1 had hold of that Mis,s Morriss,” said one of the fair ones, ignorant of the relationship the young lady behind her bore to Florine. “1 would choke her to death.” “You would!” said the young man, smil ing. “And what would you do, Miss Lu lali” continued the speaker, addressing the other voung lady. “If it were in my power, I would sew her and Marvin up in a bag and throw them in James river and enjoy the sport as much as if I had thrown two kittens into the water.” Here a young ruffian, under the influence of whisky, entered the coach, and pausing in the aisle at Pauline’s side, took off his hat and tossing it over his head, yelled: “Hang Marvin on a sour apple tree as we go marching oil.” “I will take charge of him, Mr. Morriss,” said the gentlemanly conductor, coming upon the scene. “Walk out of the train, sir, if you please.” The ruffian promptly obeyed. “My poor cousin!” thought Pauline. “How unjust people are toward her! They are not aware of her suffering, or else they would pity her. But perhaps God has brought all this trouble upon her to humble her spirit. Perhaps it will lead to her sal vation.” While Pauliue’s thoughts ran thus, the train moved out of the depot. The scenery along the route held no attraction for Mil ton. He leaned wearily back in his seat, and during the whole journey looked out of the window only once or twice. At half-past ti the train arrived at Fred erick’s Hall, where our party got off. To their disappointment, no carriage was there to convey them to Alabama, although Mr. Morriss had telegraped to the manager of the farm before leaving Richmond to send a carriage to the depot to meet them. “How provoking!” muttered Pauline, with impatient stamp of her little foot. “Papa, let us walk.” “Why, Paulie, it is more than five miles from here to Alabama,” replied the tobac conist. How absurd it would be for us to undertake such a journey on foot at this late hour of the evening. Have you gone mad! Have you no compassion on my 225 pounds of flesh! Come, let us go into the reception room and wait until the carriage comes. It will be here soon 1 guess. Come, children. ” “I prefer to remain out in the fresh air, ’ said the young lady. “I should suffocate if I were to stay ten minutes in that horribly hot depot. Come, Milton, let us take a lit tle walk.” Baying which, she and the boy crossed the track and started down the county road. They had not gone far when a car riage, drawn by two white horses, swept around a curve in the road. Pauline instantly recognized the driver and the horses, and waving her liayd to fhe old negro who sat perched on the front seat, shouted: “Uncle Joe! Uncle Joe! Stop!” The carriage halted “Lor’ bless my soul, it is Miss Paulie!” and the oliUiegro leaped to the ground and shook hand? with the young lady and her companion. - “Uncle Joe, how is lie!” eagerly asked Pauline. “Who? Mars Paine! The doctors sez that a change for de better has taken place, and dey say now may be he’ll git well; but I am athinkin’, young mistess, dat he’ll hab to pass through a lot of sufferin’ ’fore ho does. ” “Oh, 1 hope he will get well,” exclaimed the girl, as the tears sprung to her eyes. Sir. and Mr. Morriss were seen crossing the track at this moment. The old negro’s face lighted up with pleasure at the sight of his former master and mistress. “8o glad to see you, niassa! So glad to see you mistess,” were the words of greet ing that fell from his lips. After answering their questions concern ing Virgil’s condition, he opened tho door of the vehicle, and, with his head uncovered, w aited smilingly until the party had en tered the carriage. Then ho and old Jerry mounted the front seat, after which the ve hicle rolled away. The moon had risen when the party reached Alabama. Before either of the negroes could alight, Pauline hail flung open the carriage door and leaped to the ground. “Lor’, Miss Paulie, you’se peart as a cricket,” exclaimed Joe, with a broad grin. “I tell you what'it don’t toko long for de country breezes to operate on you city folks." Pauline did not hear a syllable uttered by the negro. All the world at that moment was a blank to her save bim she loved, and while her parents were alighting her eyes were wandering through the branches of the trees up to the dinil v-lighted rorm above tho parlor. It was the room which \ trgil always occupied wheu visiting Alabama, and ’she naturally supposed it was the THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JANUARY 1, 1888. chamber in which the wounded man now lay. Th? manager and his wife rushed down the walk anil received the party with great warmth. Warde, who had been lounging on a bench m the porch indulging in a smoke, arose as the pirfy came up the steps, threw his cigar over the baluster, and, politely bowing to each, resumed his seat. “How is Virgil now, Mr. Warde!” in quired Mr. Morriss. “A decided improvement has taken place in his condition, replied the lawyer. “We thought this mo mug it would be a miracle if he survived the day. Dr. Dabney, who lias been in consultation with Dr. Evans, left here halt an hour ago too see a patient near Bumpass’. He and Dr. Evans feel greatly encouraged by the favorabld change in Virgil’s condition ” “Is he still delirious?” asked Mrs. Mor riss. "Yes, ma’am,” was the reply. A second later Dr. Evans came out on the porch. “How are you, Paul? I .’ said Mr. Morriss. “Mr. Warde ’has just been telling us the good news.” . “Yes, Virgil’s condition is much im prove!!,” said the young physician. “He fell asleep about an hour ago, and when I slipped from his bedside just now he was sleeping as sweetly as a child.” “We would like to see him, Paul,” said Mrs. Morriss. “Have you any objection?” “I hate to deny you the pleasure you ask, Mrs. Morriss; but I want him to remain per fectly quiet. You know we cannot be too cautious. The least noise might awake him, and there is nothing he needs more than rest.” “Very well,” replied the lady, seating her self beside her husband. “You know bet ter than we, and I suppose we'll have to Postpone our visit until later. But, oh, aul, I would like so much to see him!” “I cannot oblige you, ma’am,” was the firm reply. “Who ever beard of such impudence?” cried Pauline. “Mamma, if you want to ree Virgil, why don’t you go upstairs and see him? I intend to see him, regardless of what Paul Evans or any of his medical tribe say. I can conduct myself as calmly and quietly as he or anybody else.” “Well, Pauline, if you are determined to go,” sail l tho ddetor, greatly vexed at the girl’s willfulness, “don’t let that boy go with you. Child-like, he will burst out cry ing and perhaps wake his brother. The least thing is likely to excite Virgil in his debilitated condition and increase his fever. Though he is improved, let me warn you he is far from being out of danger!” “Come, ray dear,” said the willful girl to Milton. “Show to those gentlemen, with their barbarous ideas of honor—those gen tlemen through whose influence your brother was led into a duel—that you love him too dearly to behave in a manner likely excite him.” “Pauline, you are not yourself to-day,” said her father, mortified at the manner in which she had spoken. “This affair has doubtless unstrifhg her nerves,” said Dr. Evans, sarcastically, "and if she doesn’t take some remedy for her nervousness it will impair her reason too. I’ll have to prescribe some nervine for her at once.” Never before had the girl’s eyes flashed so angrily, or her face flushed so deeply. Anger for the moment paralyzed her tongue. Taking Milton by the hand, siie ascended to the next floor. Passing down the hall, she and the boy paused a second at tho door ot the room she supposed the wounded man occupied. Then, opening the door, the young lady, followed by Milton, entered the chamber and silently glided to the bed in which Virgil lay in a deep slumber. His. right hand was thrown over his head; his left, rested on the snowy counterpane. All color had failed from his face, and a look of utter weariness hail set tled upon the youthful countenance. Pauline looked at the sleeper for a while in tender silence. Then she placed her little hand gently upon the classic brow, now hot with fever’ and smoothing back a locic of his luxuriant black hair which the breeze had tossed over his forehead, she mur mured: “Oh, God, cut him not down in his beau - tiful manhood! [Spare him, oh, Lord,spare him to the many who love him so dearly 1” Awed by the scene, Milton neither spoke nor moved. A heavy sigh, however, es caped his lips as Pauline uttered the above prayer. As the two turned to leave the bed side of our hero, they stood face to face with Dr. Evans. Instantly Pauline’s anger returned. “Miss Pauline,” said the young physi cian, “I know now why yqu have rejected so many brilliant offers of marriage—why you rejected mine. It was because you ioved Virgil Paine. I have for years sus- Eected that he had unknowingly won your eart. but now I know it. Your conduct of this evening has convinced me of tho fact.” “Is there no limit to your presumption, sir?” cried the young lady. “Come, Milton. There’s the supper bell! I know you are hungry.” \V hen the door had closed behind them, Dr. Evans muttered to himself: “By Jove! Don’t she look beautiful in her fits of anger 1 How I love to see those blue eyes flash? I am miserable without her love. It seems strange that Paine did not love her instead of her haughty, dark skinned cousin!” [TO BE CONTINUED.) The worst feature about catarrh is its dangerous tendency to oonsumption. Hoo l’s Sarsaparilla cures catarrh by purifying the blood. _ _____ T’would Not be Wisdom To overlook our handsome display of Diamonds, Watches, Cbaius, Charms, Bronzes, Statuary, Vases, Clocks, Silverware, Plated Ware, Lem aire's Opera Glasses, Bric-a-Brac, Gold headed Umbrellas, or any of the myriads of useful and ornamental articles which we exhibit in such great variety and superiority of design and workmanship. If you meditate the purchase of Christmas presents during the present week do not tie frightened by the idle fancy that one needs a great deal of money to enter an establishment like ours. Any desire can be gratified, however modest. We can satisfy “Prince or Peasant,” and are equally delighted to give our best atten tion to the humblest visitor as to the most lavish buyer. We are even glad to exhibit our stock to those who only wish to “look around." We are here to please the public, regardless of cir cumstances. Our display for Christmas week is worth seeing, and we invite all to come and look it over. M. Stbrxbkro, 157 Broughton street. Patent Leather Pumps and Congress Gaiters, for balls and hops, just received at Rosenheim’s Shoe Store. Each and every article marked in plain figures, and strictly one price. Appel & Schaul, Clothing, lists and Furnishings. Taylor & Carr's Philadelphia Shoes can be found in every style at Joseph Rosen heim & Co.'s. THE DEAD YEAR. [This poem, by John Savage, has been pro nounced bv eminent cl itics the finest production of the kind in the English language): Yet another chief is carried From life's battle on his spears, To.the great Valhalla cloisters Of the ever-living years. Yet another year -the mummy Of a warlike giant, vast— Is nic :ed within the pyramid Of the ever-growing past. Years roll through the palm of ages As the dropping rosary speeds Through the cold and passive Augers Ot a hermit at his beads. One year falls and ends its penance, One arises with its needs, And tis ever thus prays Nature, Only telling years for beads Years, like acorns from tho branches Of the giant oak of Time, Fill the earth with healthy seedlings For a future more sublime. JOB BRADSHAW'S LUCK. A NEW YEAR’S STORY. BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. From the Poston Globe. There was a faint light still burning in the warehouse of John Tower, one of the merchant princes of B , although the evening was far advanced; in fact it wanted but 15 minutes of 12—fifteen min utes of the New Year, for this was the last night of the old. There were two pei-sons yet left in the warehouse. These were, first, John Tower himself, a portly man, whose air indicated clearly enough that he was one who was accustomed to expect deference from those about him. The second and only other per son present was one of much less conso quence. Indeed, I ought, perhaps, to apol ogize for introducing the shabby little bookkeeper in such proximity with John Tower, Esq. However, as they happened to be together this evening, that must be my apology. Job Bradshaw was a small man, partially bald, with a timid, retiring manner, who looked as if perpetually on the point of apologizing for his great hardihood in occu pying the little spactrwhich he filled in the world. He had a very small amount of self appreciation ami a very large amount of reverence for others. He looked upon nis employer as a man of great consequence, and though for the last twenty five years in his service, had not yet got so as to feel quite easy in his company. “Well, Bradshaw, how does your last column foot up?” “A hundred and eight, sir.” “That’s what I make it. Now you may go. I boiievo I have no more for you to do to-night. What time is it?” Job drew out a large, old-fashioned silver watch which had been bequeathed him by bis father forty years before, and which he considered in spite of its antiquity quite a paragon of a watch, ami answered: “It lacks fifteen minutes to t welve, Mr. Totver.” “Ah, is it so late?” said the merchant in differently. In spite of the lateness of the hour, the bookkeeper seemed in no hurry to go. Slowly he withdrew his pen from its accus tomed place behind his ear, and taking ut> his hat began to strike it gently with his hand kerchief. At the same time a nervous ex pression came over his face, as if he wanted to say something, but had not the courage. “I believe,” he at length remarked, coughing nervously as he did so. “I be lieve, Mr. Tower, it is New Year's eve.” “Eh?” said the merchant, looking up for a moment. “Yes, I believe it is.” said he, nonchalantly, a little surprised that his taci turn bookkeeper should have ventured upon an observation not demanded by the busi ness. He was mistaken, however. It was only preliminary to a little business which Job was nervous about introducing. “I believe,” continued Bradshaw, with nervous rapidity, “it’s five and thirty years to-day, since f entered your employ, or, rather, your father’s.” “Very likely," sa’d John Tower. “What’s the man driving at?” he thought to himself. “And during that time I have endeavored to serve you to the best of my poor ability',” continued Job, hurriedly. “You have given us very good satisfac tion,” said the merchant, graciously. He ha/1 reason to say so. It would have been hard to find anywhere a more faithful servant than Job Bradshaw. A careful book-keeper he was, thoroughly devoted to the interests of the house, making them in fact his own. “I am very proud ami grateful to hear you say so,” said Bradshaw, slightly rub bing his hands, “because it emboldens me to ask you a favor.” “A favor?” echoed Mr. Tower. “Well, what it it?” "It is.” said Job humbly, “that you will add SIOO to my salary.” “Add SIOO to your salary!” echoed the merchant, who had supposed that it might perhaps be, at the most, a request for a hol iday. “You know, Mr. Tower,” said Job, hur riedly, “that provisions have risen consider ably within two or three years. Flour costs at least a half more, and other things ir, proportion. Then, too, my landlord has raised the rent $lO a quarter, and 1 assure you that I find it haril to live on SBOO a year. I should never have ventured to say any tlinig to you about this matter, but really l found it so hard to get along.” “Six hundred dollars!” repeat'd the mer chant—whose annual expenses exceeded ten times that amount—“it appears to me that you ought to live on that amount. I am afraid you are not economical.” “Indeed, sir, I try to be, said Job. sub missively, “but somehow it’s the little things that count up. !Six hundred dollars ain’t now what they were ten years ago.” “It is all that 1 have lieen accustomed to give,” sniii the merchant, coldly, “and really, Mr. Bradshaw, I do not feel called upon to increase it.” Job twirled his hat nervously in his hand, and there was an acute pang of disappoint ment in his honest heart. ‘‘Of course,” said his employer, in the same forbidding tone, “if you nave a chance to do better, I don’t wish you to sacrifice your prospects for the sake of remaining with me.” Poor Job! This was the most unkind cut of all to him, who had devoted all the best years of his life to his employer’s interests. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Tower,” he said, in a chirking voice, “for asking what may be an unreasonable favor. I shouldn’t wish to leave your service unless you desired it. Five and thirty years I’ve served your firm, anil somehow it w ouldn’t seem natural any where else.” And so Job Bradshaw went out of the merchant’s presence with theilowncast look of a child wno has been rebuked. “Perhaps it was unreasonable,” he thought humbly. “I wonder where I found courage to ask Mr. Tower at all. Perhaps he pays me already ail that I utn worth to him, and yet it comes pretty close to live on stSo<) a year. However, I must cut off some of my little extravagances.” Little indeed they must have been, for it would have been hard to find a household where economy was more strictly studied than in that of the bookkeeper. ~The merchant did not tarry long after Job. He buttoned up his warm overcoat— a striking contrast, by the way, with the old brown, faded surtout, new ten years since, which shielded his humble book keeper. “I’d like to buy some New Year’s presents for Betsy and the children,” thought Job, as he wended his homeward way, "but it isn’t to be thought of. It would be too great an extravagance for one In my cir cumstances.” The children of his employer were to fare bettor. An hundred dollars aud more uad boon expended and were to gladden the hearts of tluvluldron the next day. Meanwhile Mr. Tower pursaed his way. He had not very tar to go. Briskly he as cended the steps of his handsome dwell ing, and entered the lighted hall. It was so late that his wife and children had already gone to bed. !Ie stepped into the sitting room to warm himself for a moment by the glowing grate. It was an elegantly furnished apartment. A soft carpet covered the door—beautiful pictures looked down from the walls. The windows were draped with curtains of crimson velvet. A sense of delicious comfort came to the merchant as, in dressing-gown and slip f>ers, iie lav back in a rocking chair and ooked about him. What was it that all at once intruded upon him the thought of his bookkeeper? “After all,” said he, softening a little, "I am afraid 1 must have been too harsh with poor Bradshaw. After all, #6OO must be such a trifle to live upon. Why, I verily believe that my wife spends that for her clothes 1 And he has to support a family off of it. How can I expect Hod will continue to deal so generously with me as He has done, while lam so hard with my fellow melt. I’ll do better than he asked. To morrow he shall see his salary raised to #I,OOO, and I will increase his salary for the past year to the same sum. Thank Provi dence, 1 can afford it, and it shall be done!” The next morning Job Bradshaw and his family sat at breakfast. “And so Mr. Tower would not increase your salary?” said his wife. “No,” said Job; “he said he thought I ought, with economy, to live on six hun died.” “I should like to see him try to live on it,” said the wife, a little indignantly. “Of course, it’s very different with him,” said Job, humbly. “I don’t see why,” persisted the wife. “1 don’t see how we can economize any more than we have done.” “I think I shall defer getting a uew over coat,” said her husband. “But I am sure you ueed one,” said Mrs. Bradshaw. “And you need a shawl, Betsy. 1 would rather have you get that. It isn’t of so much consequence what 1 wear, but I like to see you well dressed ” “My and ear Job,” said his wife, affection ately, “you have always been a good, kind husband to me.” “And so I might, my dear, knowing that you might have married a richer man.” “But I have never regretted my choice, Job,” said the good woman, while there glistened a tear of gratification iu the eyes of her husband. “Rat, tat, tat,” sounded the knocker, for Job’s was an old-fashioned house. “(Simeon, you may go to the door,” said his mother. Conceive the surprise of Job Bradshaw when the ]> rtly form of his employer fol lowed his eldest born iuto the room. “Take a seat; take tiie rocking-chair, sir,” said Job, bustling round nervously. “I am proud, sir—deeply honored, I am sure—to see you under my humble roof.” “And I am very glad to see myself here,’’ said Mr. Tower, cordially “My old friend, l have come to apologize to you for ray ruilene-ss last night. Your request was very reasonable, only it was too modest. I raise ypur salary to SI,OOO, including the last year, and here is my check for S4OO jn cou flrmation.” “One thousand dollars! Oh, Mr. Tower, you are too kind! Ideally, I shall feel like a millionaire! Betsey, did you heart—sl,ooo! 1 don’t know whether I am on my head or my heels. How can 1 thank you?” “My dear friend,” safil the merchant, moved, “I have only done my duty, and vour joy more than repays me. I had no idea before what a luxury there is in doing good.” It is difficult to tell which was the hap pier, the merchant or his grateful book kec|>er. 1 have only space to add that Job’s old surtout was replaced by a handsome overcoat, which made him look ten years younger, and that his wife came out at the same time with an elegar.t shawl—and a proud and happy couple they were. May this aud every New Year’s day record many such kindly acts from those who have the means. Farewell. • LEMON ELIXIR. A Pleasant Lemon Drln't. Fifty cents and one dollar per bottle. Sold by druggists. Prepared by H. Mozley, M. D., Atlanta, Georgia. For biliousness and constipation take Lemon Elixir. For indigestion and foul stomach take Lemon Elixir. For sick and nevous headaches, take Lemon Elixir. For sleeplessness and nervousness take Lemon Elixir. For loss of appetito and debility take Lemon Elixir. For fevers chills and malaria take Lemon Elixir, all of which diseases arise from a torpid or diseased liver. Lemon Hot Drops Cure ail Coughs, Colds, Hoarseness, Sore Throat, Bronchitis and all Throat and Lung diseases. Price 25c. Sold by druggists. Prepared by H. Mozley, Atlanta, Ga., in both liquid and lozenge form. FnOM CHIN TO BREAST. Death Averted by the Use of Prickly Ash, Poke Root, Fotassium. 1 had a negro worxiog on my plac3 who bad a very ugly sore on his neck, extending from the chin to the breast bone. It was eating away rapidly, and was supposed to boa cancer. He had gotten to such a state t hat he was not able to work, and could only swallow milk or soup At this stage 1 decided to try I)r. Whitehead's Blood Purifier on him Prickly Ash, Poke Root and Potas sium— P. P. P. The effect was perfectly wonderful. The sore began to heal at once, and Ihe man daily gained in strength and flesh, till Anally the entire mass of impure flesh came out, and the place filled up ami scablied over. This scab finally shed off and left a smooth soar where once a most filthy eating sore had been. The man is now work ing in the woods as a regular band, and is in perfect health. It. K. McDUFFY. Mr. McDuffy is a well-known operator in naval stores at Glentnore, Ga. P. P. P. is the only certain remedy for all Blood Diseases. Asa tonic it is unrivaled. For sale by all medicine dealers. Du. W'nrrfiHKAn can tie consulted daily at the office of the Company, Odd Follows’ Hall building, without charge. Prescrip tions and examination free. All inquiries by mail will also receive Ills personal atten tion. Advice to Motner3. Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup should always lie used when children are cutting teeth. It relieves the little suffer at once; it produces natural, quiet sleep by relieving the child from pain and the little cherub awakes as “bright as a button.” It is very pleasant to taste. It soothes the child, softens the gums, allays all pain, re lieves wind, regulates the bowels, and is the best known remedy for diarrhoea, whether arising from teething or other causes. 25 cents a bottle. The Old Dominion Never Tires. Quite a deal of excitement was created to-day by the announcement that someone here had drawn $15,000 in The Louisiana State Lottery, and there was a general scrutiny of tickets by those who had in vested. in a short time it was 1 nrned that Mr. T. M. Benson, the efficient chief clerk in the office of the Old Dominion 8. 8. Cos., was the lucky possessor of the ticket.—Nor folk (Va.) Virginian. Nov. 11. Another Cashier. Mr. R. M. FaiTor, of the Merchants’ Bank, Atlanta, says to havo money is to save it. In the use of Dr. Diggers’ Huckle berry Cordial for all bowel troubles, he saves doctors’ bills and prevents a pome of sutferiun. TJKT GOODS. David Weisbein Will inaugurate a clearance sale of all winter goods before taking an annua! inventory of stock, and will offer unprece dented bargains to purchasers. Ladies’ Walking Jackets. 350 Ladies’ Walking Jackets, worth $3, at $ 1 50. 225 Ladies’ Walking Jackets, wortiys4 50, at 2 75. 175 Ladies’ Walking Jackets, worthed 50. at 3 25. 25 Ladies’ Plush Walking Jackets, s2o, a t 16 00. 50 Ladies’ Plush Wraps, worth $25, Vt 15 00. The above goods have been marked ck\wn to a price that will not fail to suit any one that wishes twpurehase. \v dress" goods. We have the most varied assorted stock in flsjs line in the city and have marked the whole stock at prieddhat will sur prise customers. Iv \ OUR HOUSEKEEPING GOODS, Table Damask, Napkins, Doylies, Table Covers, Sheetings, Pillow Casings, Bleachings and Blankets are certainly beyond a question the best for the money in the city. A * 4 HOSIERY, HANDKERCHIEFS AND GL%ES. We have all the LATEST STYLES and at prices undoubtedly sell them. Y\' BAZAAR \ On our Second Floor will be found replete with all tVj Latest Novelties in Ladies’ and Children’s • Under- \n wear, also Crockery, Glassware and Boys’ Suits. . \ The Balance of Our Holiday Goods will be Closed Out Far Below Actual Cost. DAVID WEISBEIN, 153 Broughton Street. MI L.I.INTSRY To the Public. Propontis lor Sprinj l Slier 18$. The unprecedented trade in our Millinery Business dur ing 1887 is owing to the constantly adding of Novelties and the immense increase of onr stock, which is doubtless the Largest of Any Retail Millinery in America, exclusive ei New York, and our three large floors cannot ho’ l them. Already onr importations, Direct from Europe, are aiV riving, and on Our Third Floor we are opening Noveltie3 for Spring and Summer in Ribbons, French Flowers and Feathers in the Most Beautiful and Novel Shades. We are sorry to be compelled, for want of room, to close our Winter Season so soon, which has been so very successful, and from tb-day all our Felt Hats, Fancy Feathers anefe* Trimmed Hats will be sold at any price. Our Ribbon Sale will continue until further notice. S. KROUSKOFE, MAMMOTH MILLINERY HOUSE. WATCHES AND JKWF.I.RY. WATCHES. DIAMONDS. JEWELRY: THEUS BROS., Successors to S. P. Hamilton. , K* OUR STOCK OF SOUTH STERLING SILVERWARE, suitable for Wedding Gifts and.rlh*! anniversaries, is very full. We invite attention to the quality, design and linlsh of the** wares. , S M FANCY GOODS, in Brass, Copper and the various makes of artistic pottery, we some beautiful pieces. LAMPS of beautiful shapes, exquisite shades of color, a useful and extremely ornamental article. Special attention given to repair of WATCHES and JEWELRY which have been badly repaint'd. J - " . 1 I 1 1 . l . .3 SASH DOOItS, BUNDS, ETC. l'rald.Dt. SAVANNAH, GA. mi .-i LUMBER. | CYPRESS, OAK, POPLAR, YELLOW PINE, ASH, WALNUIf Manufacturers of sash, doors, bunds, mouldings of an kinds and iiesorfuttona CASINOS ami TRIMMINGS for all dame* of dwellings, PEWS and PEW ENDS of our Mr* desigu anil manufacture, TURNED and SCROLL BALUSTERS, ASH HANDLES Cor t>Uvju Hooks, CEILING, FLOORING, WAINBCOTTING, SHINGLES. | Warehouse and Up-Town Office: West Broad and Braughtoif ’s Factory and Mills: Adjoining Ocean Steamship- Co.’s Whf at p‘