The morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, January 01, 1888, Page p‘, Image 5
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
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157 Broughton street.
Patent Leather Pumps and Congress
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Each and every article marked in plain
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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‘