Georgia Historic Newspapers

    PART TWO.
little MISS MIGGLES’
CHRISTMAS EYE.
(Copyright, 1891, by the United PreeiA
When Jonce was sober his admiration
lor his wife was so great, so intense, as to
be a thing o t remark throughout the en
tire tenement, and yet at other times he
held her in such terror, suoh inward
dusking and trembling, that the spectacle
he presented In her presence was one
calculated to excite the profoundest pity
and commiseration. Further it need only
bo said that the latter condition was that
in which he might generally be found.
Jonce Higgles, drunk or sober, left to
himself, was the happiest, easiest going,
b;6t uatured man in the world, and Mrs.'
Higgles, conceiving in their fullest extent
the possibilities of these peculiarities, led
Jonce drunk the liveliest danoo that ever
mortal danced, and regarded Jouce sober
with that ephemeral respect which is sure
to assert itself in those women who feel
obliged to hold their husbands with a hand
ot iron and yet realize perfectly well upon
whom they are dependent for their daily
bread.
It was nine years ago this very Christ
mas time that little Miss Miggles came to
brighten the dingy lodgings with her sunny
smile and interpose her tiuy hand and voice
in'the cause of peace and quiet whenever
the opinions of her father and mother came
to variance, and the destinies of the house
hold seemed to waver in the balance. Little
Miss Miggles wa3 vory small, even for a
tenement child, with poor, tiny hands
and fees, white, almost fleshless,
limbs and two great, deep
brown eyes set in a head that was twice too
large for its owner. She was pale and
weak, and suffered from a dozen different
illnesses, aud all this was owing to the
wretched, unhealthful atmosphere in
which she lived. Tenement houses are
dreadful places for little children, and,
though Miss Jessie Miggles was the pet
of every one about her, and though they
loved to come to her as she lay in the old
faded arm-chair that Jonce had bought
for her, and kiss her and talk to her and
try to make the days shorter and the nights
less wearisome, still little Miss Miggles was
not happy. Jonoe Miggles loved his little
Jes-de more than his wife, or himself, or
anything on earth but rum, and Jessie,
having no means of knowing that a state of
semi-lnebration was not man’s normal con
dition, loved her father with all the tender
ness aud sincerity of her gentle nature, and
shared with Jonoe his foar cf the wrath of
Mrs. Higgles.
Christmas eve in the home of the Hig
gles’ was very much the samo as it is to
hundreds of thousands of poor souls in
every big city in the land, Tenement
house Christmases somehow have not ali the
poetry and romance and beauty that oomss
with larger rooms and fuller purses, and
yet wherever children are to be found the
sweetness of yuletide is ever present, for
Christmas is the children’s festival.
Last year when the yuletide week was
cold aud stormy and dismal, Mrs. Miggles,
moved by a spirit of jealousy and by way
of showing herself In every particular the
equal of Mrs. O’Reilly on the floor below,
entertained the children of the house on
Christmas eve in honor of Jessie’s 8:h birth
day. Mrs. O'Reilly had given a similar
entertainment the week previous, and it
was not for Mrs. Miggles to neglec
ting opp.rtunity for revenge. Of
course, little Miss Miggles’ re
ception was greatly enjoyed by the
guests, who wisely overlooked every ao
oepted rule of social etiquette aud went iu
for a good time. When the last of the
merrv company had taken their departure
it as nearly 7 o’clock, aud Jonce Miggles
had not yet returned from his work.
Mrs. Miggles weut about putting the
room in order and than prepared the
diuner table, accompanying her labors
with muttered remarks about the tardi
ness and the failings of her husband.
Eight o’clock came aud the dinner was
eaten; 9 struck on the little raautle
clock and still ho sign of Jonce. It was
nothing uncommon for him to be late, vory
late, but on Christmas eve, Jessie’s birth
day. he had never failed to be home at din
ner time. Mrs. Higgles put Jessie away in
her little couob ana sat dawn by the waver
ing lamp on the table to mend and s@w and
mutter. Twice Jessie raised herself on her
elbow and asked where her father was, but
got no answer. Then a third time she
spoke.
“Mother, where is daddy to-night? He
Biways used to coma to mo on Cnristmas
eve.”
“ Shot up, on’go to sleep, will you?” re
turned the mother. "How do I know where
yer dad is ?”
“ I thought he might have told you, may
be,” said Jessie.
“Well, s > he might, but ha didn’t," snarlod
Mrs. Higgles. “You go on to sleep, aa’ let
me do the thinkin'.”
Jess e buried her pale little face in the big
pillow and cried for soma time. Then she
heard a heavy step on the shaky stairs with
out, creaking upward, and she raised herself
to listen. But it did not sound likeJoace’s
tread—lt was almost too firm and steady,
and when it finally stopped and the
O’Reilly’s door was heard to open and close
Upon it, she lay down and oried. Ten
o'clock came sad then 11, and Mrs. .Migglos
herself got up uud raised the windo w sash
end looked out. A great cloud of snow
rusned in like a frightened creature seeding
protection and she shut the window with a
crash and paced the floor nervously. Again
Jessie ventured to speak:
"Mother,” she said,'‘haven’t you got no
notion where daddy is to-night?”
“VV hat, ain’t you to sleep yitT” was Mrs.
Higgles only reply ns she approached the
couch and pulled tho coverlet over the
child’s face; and then, os she walked up and
down, up and down, Jessio could hear her
muttering something that sounded like
drunk again, aud locked up and fined to
morrow. Jessie, poor little one, had no
idea what it all meant—she only knew
Jonce was not home, and she did want so
much to seo him then, and at last fatigue
tot its way ami -ho cried herself to sleep.
But Mrs. Higgles was too angry to forget
norself. Jonco had promised her faithfully
that he would be home very early teat eveu
‘“S. , unf i he had disappointed her. Fool she
bad been to put fai h in the word of such a
man; fool she had always b en when he was
concerned. But, at any rate, she knew
where he was, and in the morning, Christ
mas morning, she would go, not for the first
time, and see the sergeant and borrow soma
money, and have Jonoe out and home and
Perhaps sober by noon. So Mrs. Hig
gles thought on till midnight rang
out from the church chimoj on the next
eut, and ushorod in the gladdest, brlgbt
eh" f ‘L 1 tbs year. Mrs. Higgles stopped
nort in her paolugs, listened to the merry
ei.s and then, moved by a spirit whose
touch she had not known for many days,
sa, down by t b9 shaky old table, picked up
. faded little Bible that Jessie loved so
tilin’*£ and B , car:hed assiduously through
the length and breadth of tho Old Testament
“5° ry °, f "beaco on earth; good
threw H dm . oa ’ and filing to find it,
mor7„n J ° tlny bo °k aud. with one
moio uncomplimentary comment ou the
headf h 0 I1 l i6 ’ i "8 Jonce, laid her
. tiM9 aQd teil urdeep.
JMr morning br„ke clear and cold.
ht men ‘ i Sl, L^ )r * bt a,r fbat made the mean
man ux the tenement realize tbat fife is
§3)e JUtenin® flato#.
not altogether vanity. Mrs. Higgles awoke
early, threw an old ooat of Jonce’sover
ntUe Jessies couch, and, putting on
her warmest shawl, slipped quietly
out into the hall, and closed tn'o
door silently behind her. As she reached
the street she encountered Hr. O’Reilly and
the other gentlemen of the tenement, who
with their pipei in their mouths and big
muliles about their necks, were clearing the
snow from the sidowalk, and as Mrs. Mig.
git-g moved away cp the street without so
much as a Christmas greeting, Mr. O’Reillv
winked knowingly to his companions anil
remarked: “It looks like Higgles do's be
drmkin’agin.”
Mrs. Miggles following a path she knew
too well, entered the uearest police station
an d advanoed upon tho sergeant.
“Where is my husband, sir, an’ how
muoh does it c st me this time?" she de
manded.
The sergeant looked up in surprise from
his blotter, aud said:
“Ah, good morning, Mrs. Miggles; you
wish to see your husband!”
This was unusual courtesy from the ser
geant, and Mrj. Miggles was rather pleased.
Something in her appearance had evidently
mollified the officer. Then a policeman
entered in response to a call, and the ser
geant said:
“Billings, this is Mrs. Miggles; she wishes
to sea her husband.” And Billings led tne
way to the officer's room, with Mrs. Mig
gles following, growing more and more un
easy at every step. Something unoommon,
she felt, was in the air. The poliosman ap
proached a stretober about which a half
dozen men were gathered, and upon which
lay a man’s form covered with a great
biankot. Mrs. Higgles’ heart beat very fast
and hard,and her breath came iu quick gasps.
She was frightened now. The men parted
at a sign from Billings, and she saw that the
figure on the stretcher was that of her hus
band. His head was bound up in blood
stained bandages, and a formidable array
of knives and lancets and
saws on the table at his head
told that tho surgeon’s skill had been tried.
Mrs. Higgles’ eyes flashed indignation now.
Jonce had carried this spree too far. She
bent over him, half in pity, half in anger,
and her feelings gave way.
“Aintyou ashamed of yeriol', Jonce*”
she cried. “(Join’ an’ gettin' done up in a
saloon brawl when ”
“Not quiet so loud, madame,” interrupted
the surgeon. “Your husband was knocked
down and run over la t night by an express
wagon, and is very seriously injured."
But Mrs. Miggl held her point. “Well,
he’d been drinkin’ else he wouldn’t been
ninnod over,” she said, deoldedly. "I know
him, I do.”
“I think you are mistaken, madam,” said
the surgeon. “He had not been drinking
this time.”
Just then tho oovored form moved
slightly, the eyes opened slowly and Jonce
saw his wife. Evidently he had heard the
surgeon’s words.
“No, Sal,” he said, “I warn't full this
time, not this time. I was cornin’ home,
I was, an’ was stearin’ by the saloon on the
oornor when I seen a little girl, 'bout like
our Jessie, standin’ out there in the stroot
an’ a big truck a-bearin’ down on her. I
had juJ time to grab her an' pull her away
when ’long come the wagon an’ w
The eyes closed again, and the sur
geon beot anxiously forward, but it
was only a passing weakness. Jonce locked
up once more and spoke: "Sorrv to spiie
yer Chris’mus fer yer, Sal; I alius was a
good deal of a gawk, yer know; tut when
yer get home, Sal, jus’tell Jessie about it;
she’ll understan’ how it was, Jessie will, an’
gin her this fer ma” He raised one hand
to his breast pocket, and, producing a little
package all covered with blood, lifted it to
his lips and kissed it. “Gin this to Jessie,
Sal, an’ tell her ‘Merry Christmas;’ I was
bringln’ it to her when—when ”
*******
And at the vory same moment that the
head sank bank upon tbo stretcher and the
eyes closed again, little Miss Miggles awoke
with a start in her tiny bed in the big tene
ment, and was surprised to find tears in her
eyes on Christmas morn.
Georgs Perot Taggart.
WHEKE THE PRESIDENT LIVES.
An Interesting Description of the Ex
ecutive Mansion.
( Covyright, 1301, by the United Prett.)
Washington, Dae. 19.— The white
house.
We drive toward its spaciousness. Hold
on a minute. On this corner, how well I re
call an interesting group: Abraham Lin
coln aud Gen. Burnside! Lincoln with his
high silk hat, long-tailed frock coat, ear
nestly striking the broad palms of his
great hands together, as he impressively
talked to the man upon whom he had
placad the burden of tbo command of the
Army of the Potpmac. Burnside, with
fatigue cap, in full uniform of a major
general, with his hands behind his back,
his head bent forward, listened respect
fully. The long legs of his riding boots
§ listened in the sun, and h:s spurs shone re
ected light. Tnat was a quarter of a cent
ury ago, both dead, and we wonder whether
their interrupted course has ever been re
newed.
But let us on.
We drive into the grounds. How perfeot
everything is. The grass shines and glis
tens. The flower-beds are modeli of land
scape gardening. The trees ora stately ana
invite by their shade. Everything about
the place is neatness. There is a
master-hand and an eagle-eye over
the band of experts who keep this place
looking bo tidy, making it so attractive.
With a crack of the whip the coachman
speeds the horses until they stand beneath
the porte cochere. I alight and am con
fronted under the marble portico by a tin
sign on whioh says, “Closed.” Sometimes
closed means closed, sometimes it means
“open sesame,” so 1 entered. How the old
time scenes came over me.
I have been there 100 times since Linooln
first went in, yet, somehow, my mind jumps
back to the day when by his side I
entered, aud the herculean figure of Win
field Scott welcomed the President of the
United States, and those who were with
him. Linoolu, tall and gaunt, but in spite
of the tremendous pressure upou him, a
happy-uatured man, looked about and
eniered first the long east room. Instinctive
ly he removed his hat, thou walked
up the stairs to the official apartments.
So I walked up. Confronted by
an attendant, I sent my card to the Presi
dent’s right hand man. Cut off your right
hand and you will know the significance of
that phrase. I entered the room. O! this
is where the cabinet met in former days.
Large, spacious—evidently the workshop
of intelligence and industry. A man of
medium hight, with shelving brow, a
bright eye, a face refulgent with intellect,
greets me with unfeigned cordiality. I
Bt Together we stand by the window and
look out upon one of the most magnificent
pictures ever seen. In the distance is the
Washington monument, towering toward
the sky. suitable cap for aa imperial shaft.
411 about it stretched upward toward tho
rear of the white house, a superb groen ex
panse of sward, rich with luscious, grassy
growth, trees here and there admirably ar
ranged, beds of exquisito flowers, all u per
fect order, so quiet, so still, so admirable in
appointment, and delightfully kept.
P We go into the adjoining room, now used
pnident.‘as his oabinet room.
by There w a long bffloe table with chairs of
leather* about if, wve the head, where
SAVANNAH, GA., SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20. 1801.
MacGregor sits, where is placed a large
ordinary office cane-bottom chair. The
ornamentation of the room is simple.
A full length so-so portrait of George
Washington, a flattering picture of Gar
field, a belittling bust or Lincoln, some
littlo portraits of perhaps Monroe, Madi
son aud Andrew Johnson. On tho table
back of the official omnium gatherum rests
a long frame, iu which are proofs of recent
engravings to be used upon bank notes. It
is a rule that the portrait* of no living per
son shnll be used on bank notes, but this
group contains Hancock, Hendricks, Cleve
land and FairchUd. Hanoock and Hend
ricks are now available. Let us hope it
will be many years ere the otters cau be
used.
And this is the President’s private office.
It is large, roomy, and simple. An enor
mous desk stands at one end, a presont from
Victoria to the President of tho
L nited Stages, made of wood taken from
the United States ship Resolute, the story
of which is doubtless familiar to all who re
member the Fraukliu expedition. It is an
interesting apartment. In that large chair
daily sits the man upon whore whim,
caprice, conscience, or what not, depends
much that goes to make the weal or woe of
this great country. Everything here, too,
speaks of the hand of some mau of method,
the supervision of some orderly person, the
coustant watchfulness of a housekeeper.
As the outside paraphernalia of the white
house betrays great and instaut watchful
ness, so does everything about the interior
of the executive mansion. The private
rooms are large and oomfortably furnished.
Canes and a hat and a soore of domestic in
cidentals here and there, accidentally placed,
show that it is a home. The large chamber
with its comfortable and substantial fittings,
not far away, was prepared in 1860 by or
der of President Buchanan, under tho su
pervision of the majestio lady who was mis
tress of the white house under her uncle’s
administration. Miss Harriet Lane, for the
coming visit of the Prince of Wales. The
green room, the red room, the blue room are
all examined. Where are the great , the
good, the little, the mean! Where the
statesman, the politician, tbe fawning con
tractor, the insinuating flatulent, toadyistio
diplomat; where the honest sturdy hood, the
pillars of the republic; where tho shams,
the veneers, tho pretenders, who illustrate 1
the meanness of human nature: where the
Presidents and their wives and families;
where officials from abroad; where the gav,
the flippant crowds that have thronged
those rooms in the days gone by!
A portrait of Luoy I
And who asks who is Lucy t Luoy was
once mistress of the white house. Her hus
band sat at tbe head of the table. Bho was
as famous in her days for her stately beauty
as others were and are to-day in theirs. A
full length portrait of Mrs. Hayes, in a
frame large enough to infouce a picture of
doomsday with its ongoings, outrages, in
my judgment, the walls of one
of these pretty rooms. There should
be a uational gallery, and it .night
be appropriate to have it along the lines
of the famous east room. Every mau,
whether he attains it by fraud or by the
votes of a grateful or recognizing people
every man, I say, who attains the dignity
of the President of the United Btatos—de
serves to be piotured iu oil, and perpetuated
on canvass in a national gallery. But
their wives, no. In the first place,
they may have two or three wives
during the administration. Grant was a
young man wheu ho went into the white
house. .Suppose his first wife had died, and
during his second term he had marrie 1
another, wouldn’t it bo rather crowding the
mourners to have two ladies of the Grant
family in the white house. O, no. tbe
President Is all right, but his wife belongs
to him, and very decidedly not to tbe
people.
The pictures in the east room, bv the
way, are not very interesting as works of
art.
We hear a groat deal of Jeffersonian
simplicity, but I don’t think the argument
would be much aided, certainly not appro
priately illustrated, if an engraving of the
picture of Thomas Jefferson, which beauti
fies the east room, could be sent to every
voter in the country. The good old man
stands quite 0 feet high, his white hair
parted iu the middle, his stately form clad
in the finest of velvet, the choicest of silks
and the costliest of laces. I doubt very
much if Jefferson’s personal man
ners were simple as simplicity is or
dinarily understood. He was a gentleman
born, a gentleman educated, a gentleman
always in his a-sociations, tastes, habits,
and the portraits preserved of him show
that’ he was as careful in his personal
equipment os he was in the oulworkiugs of
U.s mind, and the impressment made upon
tho public by the beatings of his patriotic
heart. The portrait of Lincoln is vory fair,
but I have yet to see any portrait whicn
gives the peculiar soul look which made
Lincoln’s eyes a marvel.
There is a great deal of bosh and hum
bug aud buncombe written about Lincoln.
He was a politician from the wurd go,
but he grew wheu he was transplanted.
Tho thick blood of trouble that encircled
the soil iu which he stood during the long,
dark days of tbe war, mado his nature,
always true, manly and honest, deep aud
full aud tender. He changed quickly from
the politician to the statesman. He shuffled
off the coil of Illinois aud dotted himself
in the raiment of the union. Quick,
ready, nay, anxious with the olive branch,
he hesitated long before he drew
the sword. His clear head had always list
ened to the promptings of his hoart. He
ever sought to do unto others os he would
have them do uato him. The man with
paiut and brush has yet to make his appear
ance with head clear enough to understand
Lincoln, with heart rich enough to appre
ciate Linoolo, and with skill delicate
enough, expert euough, to put the record of
his head and the story of bis heart on can
vas. Joseph Howard, Jr.
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In blood poison, mercurial poison, malaria,
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tnat P. P. P. is tbe best blood purifier in the
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Ladies whose systems are poisoned, and
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Lippmav Bros , Propr.etors,
Lippman's Block, Savannah, Ga.
, don’t vorqst to remember
That impure, unhealthy blood is present in all.
anl the direct cause of many diseases from
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Tho P. P. P. Blood Cure hue positively cured
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Pleasant to take; applicable to disease* of in
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Anything Needed
By gentlemen, from half hose to a sT r
neok wrap or a night shirt, at LaFar’s.
Ad.
ALL IS NOT GOLD.
A brighter, tenderer, softer and sweeter
moon never smiled upon the world than on
this early June eveulng. N > pair of royal
lovers were ever greeted by a kindlier smile
from tbe fair face above. The most delicate
eoents and sweetness crept through all the
air, and fairest flowers unfolded their ten
der Ups and spread their fragrance so
bounteously upon tue earth that the gentle
breeze* and the murmuring wiudi lifted it
up to tbe skies and the little stars sniffed
their noses in delighted pleasure at tho rare
perfume. The sweetest, penetrating happi
ness was infused in ali. Even tho boughs of
the trees along the street seouisd to laugh
and chat as I passed leisurely on, drunk
with the beauty of the world, loving it and
all that it contained.* Glad faces passed me
now and then and the happy laughter of
happier lovers often reached my ear, but I
saw tut little distinctly. A pretty face
gave only a brighter pink to the blushes
already mantling fair lunur’s noble brow
and the laughter was but the silver music
of a sparkling brook skurryiug down the
mountain side with quiet, contented haste.
The young grass along tho way seemed
greener than ever before, and each tender
blade was bowing beneath a crystal dew
drop that glistened, diamond eyed, in the
moonlit air like a rustic maiden blushing
and seokiug to cheat you of a kiss.
Eolian music lulled the upper world to
rest aud the voice of all nature was one pro
longed strain of divine sweetness. No
wonder then that my soul was enraptured
with all 1 saw and heard and felt; no
wonder that my thoughts turnoi to love;
no wonder that my heart beat fast and hap
pily, and no wonder that a perpetual stnilo
euug upon my lips. Each moment that
flitted by, on wings of lightning
it seemed to me, the enchantment
grew until I was fairly stagger
ing in its intoxication. I stopped upon the
street, so charmed was I, nnd looked up
lo g and lovingly, to drink in tho entranc
ing sceoce. For a long time I st and still,
my soul enthralled, and then there stole out
upon the quiet air, to whose quiet, silent
musio I had turned a pleased and charmed
ear, a sound of more—could it possibly be?
enrapturous divinity. Another and another
followed in quick aud sweet succession until
all the air was murmuring with its mel
ody. I turned about and listened.
What strange God or angel could it be
that bad descended to this troub
lous earth, though a paradise in truth
it was this bright June night, to coax such
strains of heavenly mu ic from the ivory
keys and charm eaoh passerby.
In the brightness of tho moon's brilliant
glare loomed up a high, old Engliih wall of
antique stone, gray and crumbling with
age, moss-padded, with green creepers and
ivy clinging fondly to eaoh crag and crevice.
How loviug and affectionate, and what a
tender portraiture of love it seemed as I
stood listening to the voluptuous strains
floating out each moment upon the fra
grance charged air. Fastened here aud there
iu the green meadow upo 1 tho wall, clung t\
blushing red rose nodding and bowing to tbo
flowers below. The laughing of,modest
little violets in the hedges and underneath
the rosebushes seemed to ring
out m tbo air in delicate
accompaniment to the music’s strains. Each
wave of air brought to me perfume of ten
derest sweetness, the strange alchemical
potions of the witch of love. Through the
curtain, of rare old laoe, hanging in abau
don about the open window, high and wide,
gleamed tne soft light of a perfumed taper,
filtered through silken threads of sunset
ulnk, falling with strange effect upon tho
bunch of green tnat hung Its adventurous
head over the heavy balustrade of the wide
balcony and nestled cosily upon the antique
oaken floor.
I pictured to myself the fair augel hid
fhom me by tho thin folds of lace. Eaoh
outline of her fair white face was fast fixed
upon my beating heart; the azure blue of
her eyes were all engraved ineffaceably
there; the long tresses of dark, silken hair
falling in magnetic waves over tho rounded
white shoulders had their pluoe in tho
treasured picture; the slender Angers, almost
ns white as the ivory keys, (aud how I en
vied them each touch that was pressed upon
them), the curved, artist neck that bent in
reverie upon tho task of lovo, the softly
heaving bosom of lily’s whiteness rising and
falling as the passion of tho mu3io rose nr
fell. All, all, was thure to enchant, charm
and enrapture. Each outline seemed com
plete and with what love I pressed it to my
heart.
Could thore be s.-.tne favored one there at
her side to receive hor smile aud kiss, to
feel tbe pulsing of her heart and the
warmth of her slender band, and to laugh
when she laughed? O, no. I would banisn
the thought from my mind. It would rnn
me wild. No one could bo thore I felt, but
my own spirit standing by her side, smil
ing, anxious and earnest.
The soft notes slowly glided into a deeper,
diviuer strain of glorious mellowness and
dream, just os th. little brook loses itself
upon tho bosom of tho great river, where
it goes to make tbe roiling, impressive
liquid serpent- that winds about the earth,
ultimately to empty into the broad, roaring
ocean, ali to mingle there together, to
laugh aud play, to groau and weep. And
thus do our passions and our love. Little
rivulets at first, tiny springs just bursting
with a bubble from their fountain head,
until all w emptied into tbettceau of our
hearts, and we And ourselves deep in love.
Low at first came the coveted notes to my
eager ears, but os tho artist, the fair divine,
followed up the strains in the finished so
nata, richer and deeper grew the unspeaka
ble words tliatcamo to ine; more charmed
and enchanted wos I. Howl yearned for
just one glimpse, just a shadow even of the
fair picture in my heart. Almost frantic I
became, while tho muon above shone softer,
the little stars twinkled merrier aad the
flowers perfumed the air.
“Fair angel, come forth and let the wor
shiper behold thee in all thy bright loveli
ness, if but for a single moment,” I prayed
with clusped bands upon my panting breast
and face upturned in pleading to the skies.
Bo wild was my infatuation that I lost my
reason for the time aud clutched madly at
the walls, entwining my trembling Angers
in the vinos clinging to ite sides, straining
every rerve to behold for even a moment
the fair angel within. As I clung desper
ately to the vine-clad walls, choking with
my sudden passion, hoping until my heart
almost burst, a softer, mellower chord was
struck and all that was heavenly and divine,
rich and swoet, seemed to issue from the en
chanted room. The true chord bad been
found and tbe sweetest note hod been rent
upon Its mission in the world. A gallant
mocking bird nestling in a tall poplar near
by. burst forth in bis richest song and
seemed to drink in tho notes as they fell
from tbe instrument within.
At last all hushed, but all too soon for
me, yet I clung in anxious expectancy to
the emerald wall.
Hush 1 Hush! My heart stood still; my
breath refused to come, my eyes were fixed
with death-like firmness, and not a muscle
quivered as I underwent the terrible strain.
The old lace curtain trembled; a hand, a
fairy's hand, had beeu laid upon it. How
s ft, how tender It seemed.
1 waited, but what suspense, what hope!
Would tbe divine vision never appear?
A moment more, the curtains parted,
airy fooltceps seemed to fall upon tne old
oaken floor.
A misty veil seemed to hang before my
strained eyes. I brushed it aside with one
impatient t hrust of my band and
In the full glare of the bright, poetic
moon and the shaded taper's light, there
stood before my startled gaze, a Dut eh
boor of coarse, obese frame, unshorn of
lock or board, unkempt of dresa, but withal
an artist with genius endowed, who hawked
and spat upon tho ground while a thin
white veil passed over fair lunar's face aud
the little stars closed their little eyes and
turned aside with their quaint little guf
faws! The smell of garlic and olden pipe
laded the rose-scented air, mingled with
cheese of unrecorded age.
He turned aid sat upon a cushion of ivy
and rosea that bad stolen a resting place
there upon tbe balustrades, aud from afar
dowu in his expansive cheat came a swinish
groan of contouted satisfaction. The ivy
cried out with pain and the fair rose*,
crushed and humiliated with shame, came
tumbling to tho ground. The breezes whis
pered softly to themselves, sighed aud passed
on.
I felt faint and sick. Great beads fit icy
perspiration stood upon my forehead, a
moment before hot with new found love. I
was weak, and after resling my head for a
moment upon a trellis where grew rich and
rare white roses, (It emblems to spread upon
the tomb of my crushed, litelets love, ono
of them kissing my cheek, whiter than it
self, iu soothing oonsola.ion.
I sought my room, and though a man,
wept long and bitterly, I was ns a child
that had watched its prettiest and dearest
bauble disappear before its lnuooeut, con
fiding eyes.
A pretty castle of my own building was
quickly blown away, aud I learned that be
neath the flowery meadows, covered with
dowdrops just kissed by the morning sun,
there lurks many a serpent's sting; that be
neath the prettiest flowers’ (end-rest folds
there lies bitterest poison; that thero are
ange's that have not wings, and more, that
all is not gold that has its merry ring.
Henry Webb Kolsun.
A REMARK.ABLE OABE.
TheGho-tofa Husband Appears and
Tells Where to Find Hia nematne.
From the St. Louie Globe-Democrat.
Tho sudden death of Mrs. Ellen Short of
Jamaica, L. 1., and the result ot the inves
tigation of a vision she claimed appeared to
her, cleared up a mystery which has
puzzled the residents of that quiet town for
over a year. Mrs, Short died at hor home
on Washington street and shortly bofore
her death repeated to one of her obildren the
story of a dream she often had. It was
that she had seen the body of her husband
who mysteriously disappeared on July 14,
1890, lying at the b >ttom of a big well in
the Long Island railroad round house. A
search partv found the body.
William Bhort was 45 years old and a car
cleaner iu the employ of tho Long Island
railroad. Ou the morning of July 14 ho was
left alone iu the engine house aud waß never
seen alive again. Mrs. Short was left to
provide for a family of seven children, the
oldest one but 14 years old. It was be
lieved at fir it that Short had abandoned his
family. Mrs. Bhort did not beiievo it, and
soon afterward a vision appeared to her
while she slept, whloh confirmed her disbe
lief. One night she said she was awakened
from a sound sleep and saw plainly in tho
dim light of the room her husband, who
told her to have someone look in the well
imo whioh he had fallen. Mr*. Short re
peated this story to some of her neighbors,
but they were incredulous.
Tbe railroad officials were told about it.
They refused to investigate. The oldest
boy of the family had for some time held a
position at the telegraph office of the rail
road. He was discharged soon after his
father’s disappearance, and tho loss of his
income sss a serious one to ills mother.
She tried every kind of work to provide
food for her children, even working for
farmers in tholr deles. Every day the
strug glo for existence became more severe.
•It was no unusual thing for her to spend an
entire day seeking work, aud then to send
the children to bed without a bite to eal
One Monday, after she had bad an unsuc
cessful day, she came home utterly worn
out and dropped into a chair, hardly able to
speak. She sent one of her daughters out
to get some water, kised another of her
children who climbed Into her lap, and then
leaned back into her chair. The obildren
played around softly, so os not to awaken
her. Finally, when one of the youngest
puiied hor by tho dress there came uo an
swer from the white lips, and when the
daughter returned with the water she saw
that her mother was dead. Kind-boarted
neighbors found the children crying and
hungry. The Bisters cf Bt. Dominick took
charge of them.
Coroner MeEverett of Jamaica held an
inquest on Mrs. Bbort’s body on tbe Tues
day following. Oae of the boys told the
coroner that tbe day before his mother died
she had another sight of her husband’s
ghost. The coroner hud not heard th* story
before, and be interested soveral mn in ft
and got up a search at midnight. William
Magale, who was iu charge of tbe engine
house, volunteered to go down the well. It
is about 15 feet wide and 00 feet deep. A
pair ot rickety stairs circle about the sides,
nod tbe desoent was dangerous. Magale,
lantern in hand, dually reached the bottom
and looked about. The first thing to oatch
his eye wag the body of a man lying at full
lengtii, with a piece of timber across it.
Two or three descended and saw tho same
fearful sight By tbo clothing it was known
as Short’s. The body was taken out aud
carried to the morgue.
GLASSWARE.
fIfDESIC Rtf ; r flry i:
Cat Glass ; j
F°R THE TABLE J ! !
Is Perfection. label. ; >
medjcaxT
“BEATS TIM AIL"
OR. ULMER’S LIVER CORRECTOR
Medals and Diplomas over all Competitom.
It conquers Malaria and cures all Ailments
caused by a Disordered Liver.
Specially prepared for this section. Harm
less, but effective.
A GOOD FAMILY MEDICINE. KEEP IT
ALWAYS ON HAND.
It has stool the test of time. Physicians
prescribe it.
For nale by nil Druggists.
ULMER LIVER CORRECTOR COMPANY,
(Look Box 43.) SAVANNAH. GA.
*•' • . !"' '■ . I'! , -.11
LEATHER GOODb.
NEID LINGER & RABUN, ~
DEALERS IN
RUBBER AND LEATHER BELTING,
Sea Lion W rapping. Saddles, Harness. Leather
Savannah, Ga.
TEA AND COFFEE.
Home Guard. Home Guard.
OUR HANDSOME
Holiday Panel Picture!
lltven away Deo. 14 to 85 with 8 pound* Coffee, 1 pound Tea, 1 pound Baking Powder ct
3 cans Milk.
THE HOME GUARD.
“Look out there? You’ll bo shot!! I’m a soger now," says the happy boy in ou*
newest and best Christmas panel.
The title, a decidedly appropriate one,
“ THE HOME GUARD,”
Toll® half the story Christmas ha* oome and brought with it Jov to probably every one. but e*.
talnly judging by the happy face, to the youthful S-year old son and heir. Santa Claus baa
brought him loy gun, bugle, sword, drum, cap and uniform, and dressed In all his tovs he seem*
to he tbe happiest little 'Home Guard" In all tbo land. Every home blessed with Ultle tots i* thd
scene every Christina* morning of Just such a picture as our ar tlat boa painted and entitled
” TIT HI HOMl!) GTTAItD.”
Of all our popular panel* we predict for this the greatest success and know that in every hous*
throughout the land it* coming wifi be welcomed. The Home Guard la entirely original I‘ainfed
•pecialljr for us aud can be procured only at our stores.
fla Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea Cos.,
OUT GOODS.
i th heml
BUY CHRISTMAS PRESENTS
—AT THE—
am cams sia
ETEBTTEffIG CLOSING OGT FOE CASH
HALFTHEPIIiEISEim
IF YOU WA2STT:
Ladies’ or Children’s Cloaks, Boys’Cloth
ing, Silks or Dress Goods,
Towels or Table Linens, Hosiery, Gloves,
. or Handkerchiefs, Aprons, Comforts,
Blankets, Umbrellas or anything kept in
a First-Class Dry Goods House attend
this great, never-to-be-forgotten sale.
REMEMBER 50c. spent with us will
get you as much value as $1 will else
where.
PRICES SLAUGHTERED. %
MORRISON, FOYE & CO.
DRESSMAKING.
Sninl Bry Ms al Dressnting k
33 WHITAKER STREET.
Bargains in Black Goods.
BARGAINS IN BLACK GOOD3.
BARGAINS IN COLORED CHEVIOTS.
BARGAINS IN DRESS ROBES.
BARGAINS IN PATTERN DRESSES.
BARGAINS IN BRAIDS AND GIMPS.
BARGAINS IN BLACK AND COLORED SILKS.
A Sensible “Christmas Cift M -A Fine Dress.
TO CLOBE OUT *4 JACKETS FOR *3.
TO CLOSE OUT 75c. WAISTS FOR 50c.
TO CLOSE OUT *1 WAISTS FOR 75c.
TO CLOSE OUT 87 DRESSES FOR $4 50.
The Place to Buy Dress Goods for Christmas Gifts.
WE QUOTE A FEW OF OUR SPECIAL DRIVES:
%3r\l)4 Cent Cashmeres for 9 Cents a Yard.
HST7S Cent Wool Plaids. 36 Inches Wide, 50 Cent* a Yard.
OTfiO Cent Henrietta Cloths, all Bhade*. 37 Cents a Yard.
Savannah Dry Goods and Dressmaking Company
H. A. DUMAS, Manager.
£37“ Mail orders solicited; write for samples.
,Children Cry for Pitcher’s Castorla. ■
PAGES 9 TO lf>i