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10
MARTIN’S LITTLE GIRL,
By DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.
Author of “JOSEPH’S COAT,” "AUNT RACHEL," “RAINBOW GOLD.” Etc.,
Etc., Etc.
ow First Published,! [All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER L
A pair of lovers were strolling along an
English country lane. The sun bad fallen
half an hour before, but it* beams were
still reflected in the zenith, so that through
the over-arching bo ighs of the lefty hedge
rows, and the trees studded about them,
their fell a radiance which, though soft and
ghost like, still gave light for the
man and maid to read each other’s faces.
The male, as was natural, took ardent ad
vantage of his opportunity, and walking
with drooping head and side-long face, kept
his eyes fixed upon the girl’s half-averted
features. She, for her part, stole only an
occasional glance at him, each time swiftly
withdrawn.
She was not pre-eminently pretty, except
to a lover’s eyes, but her face was full of a
vivacious tenderness, and at every fugitive
glance she gave him her companion’s heart
yearned over her.
“You are quite sure you love me?” said
the young man, putting the question for the
twentieth time that evening.
The girl’s shy glance met his for a mo
ment and dropped again. She gave him no
further response, but for awhile, at least, he
seemed satisfied, and they walked on slowly
in the gathering dusk, until at a corner of
the lane ho put his arm about her waist,and
drawing her gently to him, arrested her
foots tepe.
She laid her head upon his breast with no
pretense of coyness as he stood with his
arms folded about her shoulders. They
were as happy as love and youth could make
them, and utterly oblivious of the world
about them, as lovers have a right to be.
But whilst they stood thus in silence, the
noise of a figure crashing through the
hedge row startled them apart, and on in
truder landed iu the roadway almost nt the
lovers’ feet.
Of the'three the new comer seemed the
most disturbed. He peered through the
gloom first at one and then at the other of
the pair, upon whose solitude ho had un
wittingly broken, and once or twice h.a
lips moved as if he would un
willingly have framed some sort of apology,
but never a word be spake. With each
second that went by the silence bade fair to
i be more embarrassing, but the girl recover
ing hor equanimity somewhat, tardily broke
| the awkward spell.
“Good evening, Mr. Hetberridge.”
The intruder made shift to pluck off his
hat and to stammer a response, of which no
word was audible. With that he moved
away leaving the lovers alone, in a consid
erable momentary embarrassment. They
had scarce recove'ed themselves when the
intruder was back again, and evon in the
deepening dusk it was plainly to be seen
that he had contrived, short as the interval
had been, to throw aside Ids confusion, lie
carried his shoulders in decidedly truculent
fashion and grasped his wulking stick by the
middle with tiiß air of a man who means
business.
“I don’t want to interrupt you just now,
Mr. Redwood,” he began, and there paused
to moisten bis lips with his tongue. “But if
it’s convenient to you I should like a word
with you before the night’s out.”
“Very good,” returned the lover, catching
a shade of the intruder’s manner.
"Name your time,”said the intruder.
“Will 10 o’clock suit you?”
"■Perfectly, I’il call on you at that time.”
With that he swung upou his heel and
marohed rapidly away, his footsteps sound
ing on the sun-baked road whilst he walkod
a hundred yards or so and then falling sud
denly into silence as l e vaulted a stile and
took his way through the doop gross of a
hay meadow.
“George,” said the,girl, laying an implor
ing hand on her companion’s arm. “You
won’t quarrel, will you?”
“My darling,” George re p ndod, passing
on arm about her waist, “I've nothing to
quarrel about, so far a.s 1 know, and I don’t
think either that I’m of a quarrelsome turn
of mind.”
“You have nothing to quarrel about,’’the
girl answered, “but he has, or at least he
thinks he has.”
“Oh,” George answered, laughing, “that’s
an old story, and 1 sboull think by this time
be's bad the tense to forget all about it.
We fought about it in our school days, but
■wo’re grown men now, ths pair of us, and
it would boa pity if a pair of sensible peo
ble should fall to loggerheads over a dead
and buried old yarn like that.”
• ’lt isn’t dead and buried for John Hoth
eridge,” the girl responded. “He believes it
to this day. He was speaking to Sir Eustace
about it only this morning. He was speak
ing angrily and noisily as he does some
times, and the gardener overheard them.
Aunt Mary told me at tea time this even
ing. She was afraid that there would al-
ways bo black blood between thorn.”
“Well, my dear,” the young man an
swered, easily, “it takes two to make a
quarrel. My father used to say that anger
■was as catening as the measles, but I’ve
never found it so. If Jack Hetheridge
likes to boa fool he must take his way sin
gly. I pruniise you he shan’t tempt me to
keep him company.”
They began to walk on slowly once more,
the yonng man fondling his companion’s
ungloved band, and now and then stooping
to ki>6 it. It was almost dark by this time
and each saw the other’s face only as a pale
featureless blot ou the background of the
glo nr.
The girl paused suddenly in her walk and
throwing both arms about her lover clung
to him tightl}', and he raising his baud to
her face found it was wet witti tears.
“Why, Ellice darling,” he demanded,
tenderly, “what’s the matter? You don’t
use being like this. There’s no danger in
the world. I’m not afraid of Jack Ileth
eridge of all men in tiie world, aud you
shan’t be. if I can help it. Now don’t
worry, my darling. Dry your eyef aud
think no more about it.”
"There’s something else, George,” the girl
whispered, still cllDging to him.
At this George started with a sudden
divination.
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” he asked with a cer
tain dryness in his tone. “He’s had the
cheek to have it out at last, has he?”
“You knew about it?” Ellice asked him,
in a whisper which barely reached his ears.
••Why, my dear,” George answered, “it
stands to reason that I knew about it.
When a man loves a girl as much as Ido
you ” He paused there to emphasize his
speech by a hug and a kiss. “ When a man
loves a girl as much as I do you, it makes
him pretty keen to see when anybody else is
hanging about after her. I could uhvays
be sure that you never liked the fellow, aud
that if I went single it wouldn’t be for his
sake. When did you send him about his
business, darling?”
“He spoke to me yesterday,” she an
swered, in a shame-stricken whisper, bb if
she had been confessing a guilty secret.
“So late as that?" said George. “lean
understand bis being a bit rusty iightingon
Us in that sudden way a while ago: if I’d
come on him in the same w ay I should have
been like enough to hare broken his head
for him. But then of course it would have
been different, for i should have known the
beggar wasn’t there by your good will. But
don’t let’s think of him any more, tny dear;
he shall have bis talk tc-mgbt, and I’ll tell
you all about it in the inorniug. In the
meantime there aro lots of pleasanter
things in the world than Ja r k Hetheridge
h r you and mo to think about, and here’s
one of them. When’s the day to be. my
darling’ When are you going to make me
the happiest man In Worcestershire?”
She put these queries by, and he grew
tenderly remonstrant and even a little fiery.
This was agreeable, and not lightly to be
ended. He grew more ardent still, and
frightcneil her deliciously with bis kissi-s,
protestations and embraces, until at last she
gave him an answer. They would be mar
ried that day three months, and on that de
lightful understanding he conducted her to
her own garden gate, bade her a lover-like
god-night there, and swung off home
ward to meet the intruder of an hour and a
half before.
His mother, a quiet gray-haired old
woman, sat knitting in thb parlor by the
light of a pair of tail candles.
“live done it at last, mother," he said, as
he stooped to kiss her.
“What bast done, lad?” the old lady
aeked. smiling mildly up at him.
“I doubt,” the young fellow answered,
laughingly, “that you'll want a bit of prac
tice, tut you’ll have to stand up for one
dance at least this day three months.”
“Oho. 1 ” said the old lady. “You’ve
to Ellice?”
“Yes, mother,” the young man responded,
“I’ve spoken to Ellice, and we’re to be mar
ried this day three months.”
The mother rose and kissed him, and cried
over him a little as tender mothers will
sometimes in such a case.
“Who’d ha’ tnought of little Ella Green
away and you a growin’ np to beman and
wife together? Well, well, she’s a pretty
gell, George, and a good gell, and I think
she’ll make you happy. And, if you're as
go and a husband as you’ve been a son to me,
she’s got a priss in ten thousand. You’ve
got your mother's blessin’, Gsorge, my
lad. ”
This affectionate colloquy was broken in
upon by a knocking at the front door.
“There’s Jack Hetheridge,” said George,
“I mot him in Barstoe Lane a while ago,
and he said he wanted a word with me. He’s
come for It now, I guess.”
“It’s private busiuoss, George!” his mother
asked.
“Yes,” said George. "I suppose it’s pri
vate business. He seems to be in a bit of a
hurry for it, too. Wbat are the maids
about?”
The knocking at the front dqor was re
newed more loudly than before, and George
himself answered the summons.
“Thera’s nobody hard of hearing in thi9
house, Jack,” he said, as ho opened the door.
“Como in. Wo’li have our talk in my own
room, if you don’t mind. We can be pri
vate there.”
He led the way through the pitch dark
hall, with the assured foot of custom. The
visitor followed him gropingly for a yard or
two, and then coming into collision with
some unseen piece of furniture cursed
quietly to himself and waited.
By and by Goorge appeared in a doorway
with a candle, and beckoned to the self-in'
vited guest.
“Now, Jack,” he whon they were
seated together, with the light between
them, "what’s the word about?”
They were a strongly and even strangely
contrasted pair to look at. There was
scarcely a difference of a month in their
ages, but Hetheridge might easily have
been taken for George’s seuior by half a
soore of years. His features were thin and
puckered, hie forehead was prematurely
bald, his thin lips ruled a hard straight line,
which dipped suddenly at the corners, and
his pale gray eyes wore restless and angry
looking as they wandered hither and
thither in their shiftiness, as if their owner
were seeking something to revenge a spite
upon. HU hair, his eyebrows, and his little
bits of side whiskers were ail of the same
uo-color, but unusually crisp and wiry. A
more rime of closely shaven beard sparkled
in the candle-light upon his cheeks and chiu.
He had a nervous knack of lengthening the
jaw and scraping with thumb and finger
over this closo trimmed stubble In such a
way as to elicit a faintly audible sound.
In stature be was alight, but inclined to be
tall.
The man who facod him, waiting for the
opening of the conversation, was a well
built deep-chested fellow with a fresh, un
wrinkled face, a kiudly aspect, and largo
blueish gray eyes that looked as open and
honest as the day.
“Now, Jack,” he asked a second time, as
Hetheridge sat scraping furtively at his
lean jaw and tending his vexed glance
every where but in tha direction of his com
panion. “Now, Jack, what is it*”
Hetheridge seemed at first in no hurry to
answer, but suddenly he banged the walk
ing stick he carried on the unclothed table
and leaning forward looked hisrlvalfor the
first time in tbe face.
“You’re in ray way, George Redwood.”
b 6 began, with a directness for which an
observer would have been unlikely to give
him credit.
"Oh,” said George, with a tranquil lifting
of the eyebrows, “perhaps you will tell mo
how?”
“ Your father was in my father’s way,”
said Hetheridge, dropping his glance and
clutching bis stout walking stick in both
hands as though he strove to break it.
“Your father was iu my father’s way, and
you’re in mine.”
"Now,' look here. Jack," returned Red
wood, “I’m sick of that ridiculous old story.
If you’ve cnme here to talk about that you
might as well save your breath to cool your
porridge. ”
“Your father,” said Hetheridge, "robbed
my lather of three hundred and fifty acres
lying between tbe brook and Bristoe Lane.
The world knows that. You know it as
well as I do.”
“Yes," George answered, “just as well as
you do. It’s a foolish lie, and there’s an
end of it. Your father wasn’t a careful
man—mine was. One wasted money, and
the other made it. Your father drank ana
racketed his landß away, and my father
bought cm with honest money made in
honest business. Go whore you like, ask
anybody who knows tho story, and they'll
tell you the same thing ”
“Your father robbed my father,” per
sisted Hetheridge, suddenly.
"I shouldu’t be aggrieved,” Redwood an
swered with a cool content, "at anything
you might say, even if I supposed that you
believed it. Nobody but a born fool could
believe that yarn of yours in faeo of the
evidence, and you’re not a born fool, Jack
Hetheridge."
“Your father robbed my father,” Heth
eridge said again, “and you’ve robbed me.”
“Is that so?” Redwood asked in the same
tone of cool contempt, “now will you be so
good as tell me how?”
“You know how, well enough," Heth
ridgo returned. He set his stick across his
knee and tugged at it with all his force.
“ Well, no,” drawled George, with an ir
riting unconcern. “I can’t precisely say I
do. Perhaps you’ll be good enough to ex
plain the matter.”
“Who—” began Hetheridge.
He stopped, choking at the word.
“Well,” demanded Redwood. "Who—?
Who what?”
“Who came In between me and Ellice
Greenaway?" Hotherid ,-e flashed at him,
lifting his wrathful eyes suddenly aud glar
ing at George across the table.
“I can answer that question in a minute,”
George responded, “it was you and Miss
Greenaway that came in between you and
Miss Greenaway. If you’d been another
man and she’d been another woman, you
might have hit it off to perfection.”
Hetheridge’s face was pale and his voioe
shook as he spoke.
TIIE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY. -JANUARY IT, 1892—TWELVE PAGES.
“You came between us, George Red
wood. I've cared for her ever since I wa- a
lad. I've cared about her, and I’re
let her see it.” He spoke os
if he bad to lay a desperate compul
sion on himself to speak at ah, and wbat
with the reality of his rage and the tense
ness of the hold with whicn be clutched the
walking st,ck across Lis knee his mole
figure vibrated. “I've tieen her follower
and her servant these fifteen years, since
she was a little thing running about iu short
frocks, and up till now. I never cast a
thought on aiiy other girl and nover shall.
I've always meant to marry her. and I meat
to marry her; and as sure as God’s alive,
George, the man that crosses me has got to
fight me for her.”
The man spoke with an anguish so easily
to be seen that the successful rival felt a
touch of pity.
“Look here, Jack,” ho said, “what’s the
use of talking. Suppose we two should
fight—suppose yqu made an end of me. do
you think you’d be any nearer marrying
Ellice for that? I never heard it was the
way to a girl’s heart to kill the man she hon
ored with the liking.”
“Y'ou came in between us,” Hetheridge
said again, iu a dull, tired way this time,
“and you’ll have to suffer for it. If I can’t
marry her notiody else shall.”
‘•Man alive,”cried the other, with a half
c .r.temptU 'Us, half angered laugh, “man
alive, you’re mad; you got your answer yos
terday.”
“She told you that, did she?” cried Hsth
oridge, wrathfully.
“Yes,” said Gsorge, “she told me. She
had a right to tell me. We shall bo mar
ried. please God, this day three months.”
“You think so,” Hetheridge answered.
“We shall see.”}
“Of course, wo shall,” George answered,
dryly. “And now. Jack, if you’ve no more
good sense to lavish on me, I’ll say, ‘Good
night.’ I should suppose that you’d be very
satisfying even to a craving stomach, and
I’ve had no appetite for you at any time.
Take the dish away, John.”
With this touch of rustic irony Redwood
rose, opened the door, and indicated the
way to his rial by a careless wave of the
hand.
“Forewarned’s forearmed, they say,”
said Hetheridge. “Never say I didn’t cau
cion you.”
“Here Jack, my lad,” said Redwood,
slamming the door and setting his broad
back against it. “What’s all ’this point to?
What are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do,”
said Hetheridge, sitting motionless in his
chair. “I’m not going to stand by whil t
any man stops l i between me and Ellice
Greenaway. Take warning, George.”
“What do you meau to do?” George asked
him. “Do you think I'm a baby to be
frightened by the first ugly chap that comes
along and pulls faces at me? Como, now,
what do you mean ?”
“Mean!” cried Hetheridge, rising sud
denly to his feet and confronting his adver
sary. “I’ll have tho life of any man that
marries Ellioe. Now you’ve got it
straight.”
“Yes,” said Redwood, with an air of
weary resignation, “we’ve got it straight at
last, and now, get out of my house.”
Hetheridge obeyed the cool gesture of
dismissal, but turned in the doorway for a
final word.
“Don’t forget, George. Think of what
I’ve told you.”
“I shan’t burden my mind with any such
sickly nonsense,” Redwood answered, and so
saying, he took tho candle from the table
and conducted bis rival to the door.
CHAPTER 11.
Hetheridge walked out into the darkness
in a mood sullenly bitter. He swung rapidly
along by the garden path, und mistaking
by a yard or two the position of the gate,
walked full tilt against it, abrading wrists
and knee*. Tbe unexpected pain, sight ns
it wob, turned his sullenness to a sudden
furr, and wheeling round to ward the house,
he cursed it ami its inmates aloud with
both smarting hands quivering in the air.
He found the exeroiso for the moment so
congenial and absorbing that ho was quito
bund and deaf to his surroundings, until he
was awakened to them by the crook of a
walking stick upon his shoulder, and the
sound of a voice almost at bis oar.
“Come, come, Hetheridge,” said the voice,
“this is a poor sort of work for a Christian
man; what’s the matter with you?”
Hetheridge know the speaker almost at
the first word, a id stayed the torrent of his
objurgations.
“You'd better gat away from here,” said
the ne w comer in a tone of authority.
“Look here, Sir Kustaoe.” Hetheridge
began with propitiative expostulatory
whine, in comic contrast with his late full
throated anathema.
“But I won’t look there,” said the authori
tative one, and fixing the crook of his
walking stick in lletberidgs’s oollar he drew
him calmly outside the gate, and with a
mere injunction to him to follow led the way
along the lane for a hundred yards or so.
By tuis time the wrathful man’s eyes woro
accustomed to the darkness, and whan Sir
Eustace stopped, Hetheridge arrested his
owu footsteps also, and the two facing each
other could dimly read each the expression
of the other’s countenance,
“Now!” said tha baronet, who was a
mighty man in those parts ami accustomed
to buviug his own way with all and sundry.
"I told you this morning you wore making
an ass of yourself and that I’d sta and no
more of it. I dare undertake to say that
there isn’t a grown man or woman within
five miles who doesn’t know the rights and
wrougs of your case; and there isn’t one of
them who, being naked, wouldn’t tell you
that you are a fool. Old jtodwood no more
robbed your father than I did, or you did,
or the man in the moon did.”
“I know better, Sir Eustace,” said Heth
eridge, doggedly.
“Ah," said Sir Efist,ace, "you're a man
with a crank. Y”ou’re laboring under a dcu!-
sion, and if you don't take care it may lead
you into mischief. Idon’t know after w: at
I hoard to-night that l shouldn’t bo justi
fied, iu advising young Redwood to lay an
information ag oust you. March home now
and let me see you in the morning. I’ll
have none of this dangerous madness in my
ne ghborhood, if 1 can help it.”
“Good-: ight, Sir Eustace,” said the young
man, humbly.
“Good night,” said the baronet, and stood
watching the retreating figure until it
melted into the sLadows and was lost. Then
ho too set out for home, and coming in a lit
tle while to the lodge-gates of his own
park, bado tbe lodge keeper fasten up for
the night, and, lighting a cigar, strolled
slowly along the drive, well-pleased with
himself us a man who bad justly asserted
hi* own importance and arrested a danger,
ous agent. He went to bod iu the same
calm complacency, and in the morning
awaited Hetheridge’s arrival.
The morning wore away, and the young
man failed to put in au appearance.
Luncheon time came, but still no Hethor
idge. This was flat lese-magest y, and at 3
o’clock Sir Eustace ordered his horse and
rode out in quest of the recusant. He
found him at his own homestead, a mile or
thereabouts from the hall, a rambling,
gabled, thattbed old teuement, which had
been iu tha course of so many generations
so rebuilt iu plaoes, and so added to, that it
looked as it the houses of a hamlet had
been heaped and squeezed together.
Hetheridge stood in the porch logginged
and spurred as if fresh from the saddle. He
carried a ridiug switch in one hand, and at
sight of the approaching magnate hung his
head and whipped at hi* corduroy logs with
an air of dogged abstraction. Sir Eustace
came riding down tho path as if he would
ride intojthe house, and, checking his horse
suddenly, looked wrathfully down at the
yeoman.
“Here you are,” he said, curtly.
“Yes.” Hetheridge answered, "here I am,
as you say. Sir Eustace.”
He lifted his dogged faoe as he spoke,
and the baronet guessed by the flush upon
his forehead and a certain gloomy film of
anger in his eyes, that he had been drink
ing.
“I told you,” he said, "that I expeoted to
see you this morning.”
“I’m aware of that, Sir Eustace," tbe
young man auswered, “but I’ve had other
work on hand. There’s no such a thing as
justice in this part of the world for up.
and I've made up my mind to clear out of
it. i rode over to Worcester this morning,
ami I’ve put tr.e land on the market. Tnu
old bundle of bricks and mortar”— He
struck tr.e lintel with his riding whip as he
spoke. “This old bundle of bricks and
mortar goes with it. I'm going to Australia.
1 can’t stand this old country any
longer, and I'm off.”
“Well,” said Sir Eustace, “it’s about the
best thing you could do, Hetheridge. 1 hope
we shall have no folly or violence on your
put ia the meantime. As for the land
you’ve res rived to part with ”
“Oh, I’ve quite made up my mind about
thit, Sir Eustace,” Hettiendga answered,
flogging at his legs with angry emhpas.s.
"I’ll make you a bid for it," the baronet
pursued, “it lies up close to my own all
along. Y'ou’d better see Raymond or get
your solicitor to see him and arrange a price
with him.”
“Very well, Sir Eustace," the young man
a swered, in a voice slightly husky and un
steady, "it’s no care if mine who has it so
long as it doesn't go into George Red
wood’s hands.”
"Do you mean to stay on here in the
meantime?” Sir Eustace asked him.
“No,” said the young fellow,
defiantly, “I’m going up to L ndon.
I’m going to have a look at the
Smoke. 1 can’t breathe down here. I want
to go somewhere w .ora I can get fair play.”
“ Well, well,” said the baronet, forbearing
to argue with him. “I dare say you’re do
ing the wisest thing. Y'ou’il call and see me
before you go.”
“I don’t know about that, Sir Eustace,”
the other answered. “There’s nobody who’ll
be any the better for my good i ys, or any
tho worse for going without ’em. I’ve
neither wife nor kin, nor chick nor child,
and where I go or what beootnes of me mat
ters to nobody.”
If the young ram had paid fewer visits to
the bottld in the course of the day the bit
terness of his heart might have been less
cutspoken; but even as things stood it was
obvious that he felt keenly, and the baro
net, who, though a bit of an autocrat, was
a kindly man enough lu the main, was sorry
for him. He stooped do sn from his saddle,
and laid a friendly hand npon the young
ster’s shoulder.
“Come, come,” he said, “you’ll find plenty
of friends if you look for them, or even if
you let them come without looking for
them. The world’s wide, my lad, and there
are lots of good men and pretty girls in it."
Whether from a fear of breaking down,
or in resentment of the friendly voice and
band, Hetheridgo turned and walked
straight into the house without a word.
SSir Eustace being thus left alone saw
nothing for it but to turn his horse’s bead
homeward, and leave the unhappy young
fellow to his own devices.
On the whole, he was inclined to think
that things were turning out well. He had
often thought, and had cause enough for
thinking, that Hetheridge was likely to be
dangerous. Always inolined to be an ill
conditioned fellow, the young man had of
late shown so menacing a disposition that
Sir Eustace bad more than once felt nervous
about him. Tho baronet regarded himself
as the divinely appointed oaretaker of that
country side, and not being a mau who
sought for trouble, was glad to know that
tho one-disturbing element he had to deal
with was withdrawing from his sphere.
As for the yeoman, whose own wrong
headedness and jealousy uprooted him from
his native soil, he felt as wrathful, as in
jured, and us desolate, as if every one of his
mad a;.d bitter fancies bad been absolutely
true in fact. It gave an added pang to the
sting of his injuries to know that not a liv
ing ioul but himself believed in them. The
whole world was in conspiracy against him.
People laughed or jeered or turned away in
fatigue when he talked of the family
wrongs the Redwoods had inflicted on his
house.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
JANUARY STYLUS.
Newest Fancies in Street and Eve
ning Gloves
(fiovyriqht.)
New Yqbk. Jan. 1(5.—1f you are a
woman who likes to appear well dressed,
you no doubt take a groat deal of pains with
your gloves. Ycu select them carefully and
you have them fitted in the store so as to
be sure that they are just the right size and
shape for your hand.
Fashions iu gloves change from month to
month and almost from week to week.
Thero are certain styles which may be said
to be always in fashion because they are so
plain that there is nothing conspicuous
about them and nothing that cau get out of
style.
Among these always fashionables may be
mentioned the tan glove, without stitching
and with plain tops of 4-button or 5-button
length, and also f lack suede gloves.
liut neither of these styles is ever very
fashionable, and, indeed, they should only
to worn by the woman who either does not
pretend to any style in dress, or by the one
who is so limited in her dross allowance that
she cannot afford to purchase gloves in the
extreme of fashion.
But to slight one’B glovos if one can pos
sibly help doing so is a mistake, for by
nothing as quickly as by gloves is tbe style
of a woman judged.
Just now, if you were to walk along
Broadway of a pleasant afternoon, you
would see women wearing suede gloves to
match the trimmings on the gown and with
heavy stitching upon the back of some con
trasting color. The tops of the gloves are
perfectly plaiu, and do not even have the
wrinkled effect of themousquetaires. They
aro only ab >ut 4-button length, and are
buttoned all the way to the top. The but
tons on these street gloves are very large,
even upon the finest kid, and are of a color
to match the stitching upon the back.
Suede with deep, stiff cuffs like driving
gloves are also very fashionable and come
in every variety of color and hue. The
stiff tops are stitched along each edge with
silk of a color to match the stitching upon
the back, and the buttons match the cuffs
and the stitching. The most fashionable
shade iu these gloves is a very light fawn
color, almost the color of chamois. It
comes ia a very flue quality of kid and fits
the hand as neatly as does an evening
glove.
In evemug gloves, one sees the long
wrinkled tops that were so faehiocablo a
short time ago. The popular length is the
12 button glove. There are but three
buttons at the wrist and the remainder of
the length is puffed and wrinkled up over
the sleeve of the dress nearly to tho elbow.
Those gloves may or may not bo stitohed
upon the back according as one wishes. Tho
prettier mode is the unstitched.
Tho most fashionable color in the even
ing Buedo gloves is a pale blue. The selec
tion of the color is no doubt due to the fad
which is just now raging for blue in milli
nery. It is very much tho proper caper to
have the gloves match the trimmings upon
tho bats, and with the gloves and
the hat trimmings there also goes a
very large bow of brocaded ribbon of
the same hue, which is to be pinned upon
the bodice near the shoulder. The fan is
also tied with a ribbon of this color. And
thus, with very little effort, a charming
effect of harmony is produced throughout
the costume.
Delicate shades of pink, old rose, violet,
lavender, green and pearl are also seen in
these long evening gloves. Many of these
shades are quite perishable, but in every
town there is at least one cleaning establish
ment which will renovate these gloves for
the trifling expense of 15 cents a pair, mak
ing them appear as good as new.
For street gloves, there are the heavy kid
gloves with Persian lamb tops. These tops
may be very long m order to meet the fur
capes at the elbow, or tna tope may be
simply of gauntlet length and designed
more for show than for warmth. Avery
heavy stitching upon the back, done in
chenille, is unusually seen upon the gloves
with fur tops.
A novelty iu winter driving gloves are
the Persian lamb gloves which are taking
the place of the sealskin gloves wliioh have
long been worn as the best winter driving
gloves obtainable. These Persian lamb
gloves can be made to fit more snugly than
sealskin gloves, and can be fitted In mere
c osely at the wrist. They are very pretty
and very w arm and make the ideal winter
driving gl res.
It really seems as If women’s hands and
arms were claiming more attention than
they lad ever done before. In sleeves one
sees fanciful aud almost startling designs
in cut and make and trimming.
Some of the modes are very becoming
and pretty, and they impart a neat finish to
a sleeve which the lull pufilngs often lack.
The very high shoulder puffs are no
longer in vogue, although a great deal of
fullness is stid permi-siu.c at the aaoulfi-r,
and there is a very slight elevation at the
top of the sleeve. The under s.de of the
sleeve is made plain in almost all of the new
models and the trimming is put upon the
upner side. One very pretty sleeve has a
full puffing extenled from the shoulder
half way to the elbow. From there to the
wrist the sleeve is tightly buttoued. with a
row of the smallest horn buttons.
A drees of striped material has the
stripes so arranged that they extend in
points down the outside of the sleeve. The
sleeve is faced with pale blue -atin, and a
pale blue satin point is turned back ever
the cuff and is caught in place with a largo
white pearl button. The rleevesof a certain
tweed dress which has been very much ad
mired are trimmed from the eibow to the
wrist with bands of braid, aud the braid is
fastened by velvet buttons.
None of the new cloth dresses have per
fectly plain sleeves; aud if one may lie per
mitted to judge of a whole dress by a sin
gle sleeve one may siy that just in propor
tion to the elegance of the dress are the
sleeves made more and more fanciful.
For evening wear very grotesque effects
are produced. They are beautifully gro
tesque, however, and are decidedly pictur
esque in their peculiarities, it is the aim
to have the effect classio, and a woman
with a handsome neck aud shoulders has
every opportunity to make a real picture of
herself if she chooses to dress with a little
taste.
One of the most beautiful of the sleeves of
these picturesque evening gowns has a broad
band of braiding or passementerie which
extends over the top of the shoulder. This
shoulder is then left bare to be covered a
little lower down with another band of the
passementerie put on in broader fashion, so
as to form the top of a short puff sleeve.
Elbow gloves are worn with this sleeve,
and the effect is prettier than can be de
scribed.
Another evening gown has a shoulder puff
put on in epaulette fashion, so as to imitats
a lamp shade. It is made of silk, and the
■ilk is tied with a cord leaving a slight puff
at the top which is gathered on at the
shoulder. The silk is then laid upon tho
sleeve in narrow plaitings and is puffed in
a donble puffing to the elbow. Still another
style, which is still more clas ic, has an
epaulette of passementerie whion stands out
upon the shoulder, setting off the whiteness
of the skin in beautiful effect. Avery
heavy puffing of chiffon extends from under
the epaulette aud makes a short shoulder
sleeve.
An infinite variety of these fancy sleeves
is possible and, by the exerciss of a little
skill and artistic taste, a woman can man
age to hide her defects and bring out her
good points, so that she is a thing of beauty
in her evening gown, even if she is not so in
herstieot dross.
Our grandmother), who were the proud
and happy owners of only one siik gown
and who considered themselves fortunate to
have such a possession, would be amazed
beyond expression if they could know the
reckless extravagance with which we in our
day use the precious silk. All the new
gowns are lined with s;lk or satin. Satin
inervellieu Is of a fine, firm, yet heavy
texture which adapts itself beautifully for
a dress lining, and, therefore, it Is of satin
inervellieu that the newest dress linings are
made. One must take very good care to
get a quality of silk for lining which will
not crack or cut; or otherwise there will be
the unpleasantness of finding a lining all
cut and worn when the outside of the dress
la still as good ns new.
Tho Ban;e tiling holds true of skirt lin
ings. No skirt hangs 83 well as the ono
whioh is lined with silk, but ono must be
very careful to get silk which will not
crack or the skirt lining will he gone before
tho skirt has been worn half a dozen times.
The hats of the new year are over so
pretty, and for once, at least, they are not
very oxponsive, and they are ca; able, too,
of a readjustment at home, hich makes
one hat do the work of half a dozen.
"See how I cheat the public,” exclaimed
a blithe little artist, as she was dressing her
self to go out to a luncheon party. “This
black velvet hat with the soft crown is be
coming to me on all occnsi ns, and I vary
its appearance by changing the bows or
ribbon upon it. The top, you see, is cov
ered with jet, and that, of course, I never
need to change, but right here upon the
brim there Is a place that requires a little
butterfly bow, and here I pin a pale
blue bow, a pale corn-colored one, a
white ono or any other kind that I like.
To-day I wear a heliotrope gown, and so,
you see, l cm pinning a heliotrope butterfly
bow upon the rbn of my hat. It makes it
seem as if I had a hat to match every gown,
when really it is always the same one.
Then, you see, I change tho strings also,
and thus it is that I cheat the public into
thinking that I am a woman ot boundless
resources in dress, when really I can only
boast of a few little bits of finery aud orna
ments, judiciously managed.”
And so it was throughout the entire
category of this little a.tist's wardrobe, yet
everything was neat aud nicely so
that there was no suggestion of makeshift
or sham. And this effect, without undue
expenditure, is what every woman really
desires In planning her wardrobe.
LEMON ELIXIR.
Pleaennt, Hlesraut, Reliable.
For biliousness and constipation take
Lemon Elixir.
For fevers, chills and malaria take Lemon
Elixir.
For sleeplessness, nervousness arid palpi
tation of the heart take Lemon Elixir.
For indigestion and foul stomach take
Lemon Elixir.
Forail sick and nervous headaches take
Lemon Elixir.
Ladios.for natural and thorough organic
regulation take Lemon Elixir.
Dr. Mozley’s Lemon Elixir will not fail
you in any o£ the above-named diseases, all
of which arise from a torpid or diseased
liver, stomach, kidneys or bowels.
Prepared only by Dr. H. Mcz.ey, Atlanta,
Ga.
SUO. and $1 00 per bottle at druggists.
A Prominent Minister Writes;
After ton year3 of groat suffering from
indigestion, with great nervous prostration,
biliousness, disordered kidneys, and consti
pation, I have been cured by Dr. Mozlay’s
Lemon Elixir and am now a well man.
Rev. C. O. Davis,
Eld. M. E. Church South,
No. 38 Tatnall street, Atlanta, Ga.
Lemon Hct Drous
Cures all coughs, colds, hoarseness, soro
throat, bronchitis, hemorrhage and all
throat and lung diseases. Elegant, reliable.
25 cents at druggists. Prepared only by
Dr. H. Mozley, Atlanta. Gs.
hardware”
HARDWARE,
Bar, Band ana Hoop Iron.
WAGON MATERIAL.
Naval Stores Supplies.
FOR SALE BY
Edward Lovell’s Sons,
155 BROUGHTON AND 138-140
STATE STREETS.
medical.
CHICHESTER'S CROUSH. REO CROSS DIAMOND BRAND A
giUrmTOWkii V\\iUs A
-IfS? V-' THE ORIGINAL AND GENUINE. Tbe onlj S*T, Sor*. %cd I*UI for sal. XW
i=l Ladle*, ui l' ifmt ft*r 'T UchtUar J tnfhsh Inamond Brand in Krd nad Gold mu:iSc - y
I / *1) bo,< * UacribiM. Take mo oikt-r kind. Mofuse Sub*nt%rtnms and /s,t,i** 4 V
I W Jf Aii ; iIU in paataboard (*'•>. pick wrapper*. are dang-ma* nnmnu-rUltn. At DruzKi*'.-
\ *o* W 2 4e. in ar.< f-r part.caiar* t-atimoaiai*. and “Krltef far Udlr, H tn Uttar. b\ 2 V
_A nr 10.000 Twtiinorlato ***** PmpT. CHICHCSTIR CHEMICAL Cos ,
V SuM bj Ml Loci DnoUb Ml 1 LAI) t Ll 11( ?A. !■
P 3 P a P B Pimples
PRICKLY ASH, POKE ROOT Blotches
AND POTASSIUM ——“
Makes I
„ . „ Old Sores
Marvelous Cures— ,xz~*r.r.,.
” Prickly Ash,Toko Root and Potassium,
the greatest blood purifier on earth.
mßloorl Poison
UIUUU 8 UlOUil poison, and all other impurities of the
.i—mi„ Blood are cured by P. P. P.
Randall Pope, the retired druggist of
oa a * Madison, Fla., says : P. P. P. is the best
alterative and blood medicine on tho
illluUlllQllolll market. He being adruggist aud hav
miiuumuuvill Ingsoldall kinds of medicine, his un
solicited testimonial is of great impor
tance to the sick and suffering.
end Scrofula
WIIU vU I UiUIU great pleasure in testifying to the effi-
dent qualities of the popular remedy
for eruptions of the skin known aa
P P. P. (Prickly Ash. Poke Root and
P. P. P. purifies the blood, builds up Potassium.) I suffered for several
the weak and debilitated, glvesstrength years with an unsightly and disagre
to weakened nerves, expels diseases, eable eruption on my face, and tried
givingtlie patient health and happiness various remedies to removoit, none of
where sickness, gloomy feelings and which accomplished the object, until
lassitude first prevailed. this valuable preparation was resorted
In blood poison, mercurial poison, to. After taking three bottles, in ao
malario, dyspepsia and in all blood and cordance with directions, lam now oil
skin diseases, like blotches, pimples, tirely cured. J. D. JOHNSTON,
old chronic ulcers, tetter, sraldhead,
we may say without fear of contra- 3a van nan Oa.
*■£*£*■ “ b “‘ bloo<l Henry Winter, Superintendent of the
purifier lntho world. Savannah
Ladies whose system* are poisoned rheumatism of the heart for several
and whoso blood is in an impure con- years, often unable to walk his pain was
dltion, due to menstrual Irregularities, so intense; he hail profesenrs in Phiia
are peculiarly benefited by the won- delphia but received no relief until he
derful tonic and blood cleansing pro- came to Savannah and tried P. P. p.
pertles of P. P. P., Prickly Ash, Poke Two bottles made him a well aura and
Root and Potassium. he renders thanks to P. P. P.
All druggists sell it.
LIPPMAN BROS., Proprietors,
Lippman’s Block, Savannah, O-a.
RAILROADS.
Florida Central ana Peninsular Railroad
FLORIDA TRUNK LtN’E-SHORT LINE TO TAMPA—TIME CARD IN EFFECT NOV. 16. ism
(4 UNO S' 'I'TM —HEAD DOWN. OPING NORTH—READ UP. ~
Daily. Daily. Daily. Daily.
E=a r—•
-■'ffj - -■ ■ - - ———
12:45 pm 7:o4auiLv Savannah Ar 7:50 pm 12:’4n’n f=3
c—. I ' 35
! 9:00 pm 11:15 am Lv Jacksonville Ar 1:56 pm 6:Soam
12:33 n’t, 2:23 pm Ar Hawthorn© Lv 10:44 am 3:23 am E?
5 3:31 pin Ar Silver 8 prints Lv 9:46am **
2:12 am 3:44 pm Ar Ocala Lv 9:34 am 1:48 am
3.3') am 4:40 pm \r Wildwood Lv H:35 am 12:15 arh 5
r>Q 4:52 am 5:43 pm Ar Loooochee Lv 7:32 am 10:53 am
b—* 5:12 am' t<*:oo pm Ar Dade City Lv 7:l4am, 10:30 pmi £3’
•-*-3 i 6:25 am 7:19 pm Ar Plant Oity Lv 5:57 am| 9:17 pm: g
6 8:35 am 4:40 pm Lv Wildwood Ar 8:85 am 12:15 am St.
5:43 aui s:4oom!Ar Tavares Lv 7:33 am 9:00 pm SI.
L-3 7:50 am 0:35 pm Ar Apopka Lv 6:37 am 5:35 pm r _
c~> 9:ooam 7:lopm Ar . Orlando Lv 6:05 am 4:30 pm g
4:52 am 5:43 pm Lv Lacoochee Ar 7:32 am 10:53 am *=**
8:20 arn B:4Bpm|Ar Tarpon Springi Lv 7:4opm —,
i— s 6:88 am 9:00 pin Ar Sutherland Lv 7:23 pm
F—• 10:00 am 10:51 pra Ar St. Petersburg: Lv 6:05 pm
*8:40 ara *4:57 pm Ar Dunnellon Lv *8:08 am *4:33 pin 55-
r- -i *6:30 pm, Ar Homoeaesa Lv *6:45 am
M .... ’:SI pui Ar Gaineavill© Lv 10:it am §
GJ .. G:2U pm Ar Cedar Key Lv 6:30 am
" savannah and fkrnandina] " '
I 7:25 pmi 7:04 am Lv Savannah Ar] 7:50 pml 12:14 n’n
I 9:45 am| 3:oopm Ar Fernaudiua. Lv; 10:10 am! 5:50 pm
•Daily exoept Bunday. tHeala.
CALLAHAN lathe transfer station for all points In South Florida reached by the P. C. A
I*, and Its connections.
Solid trains Cailahan to Tampa and Orlando. Close connection at Tampa with So. Fla. R. R
for Port Tampa, Key West and Havana. Close connection at Owensboro with So. Fla. H. R. for
Lakeland and Hartow. Close connection at Tavares with J., T. and K. W. Ry. for Sanford and
Titusville. Pullman I3uffet sleeping cars on nis?ht trains. Through short line Jacksonville to New
Orleans, Jacksonville to Thomas villa, Montgomery and Cloonnati. Tickets sold and
checked through to all points in the United States, Canada and Mexico. Send for best map of
Florida published, and for any information desired, to
D. Hi. MAXWELL, G. M. A. O. MAODONELL, G. P. A., Jacksonville.
MEDICAL.
SONSUMPTION.
I have a positive remedy for the above disease; by its
use thousands of cases of the worst kind and of long
Ft n ndmg have been cured. Indoed bo strong is my faith
in itsethcacy, that I yy ill semi TWO BOTTLES FREE, with
nVALUABLE TREATISE on this disease to any auf
forer who will send me their Express and P. O. address.
T. A. Slocum, 31. C., 183 Pearl St., N. Y.
SmmM l
Spe! S Pruitt!*
\ [PPMAH BROS.', Savannah. GjC.
Sole Asento IH THE U.'jS. as
CARRIAGE WORKS.
The Tallest Wheel in the World
Have you soeu it? It stands 75 feet from the
fcruun Ito the top of the rim. It was made for
a special purpose, aud can be seen for the next
fe.v days
FREE
At the well known Novelty Works of T. A.
Ward, where flrst-class work is done in Wheel
wrigliting, B’.acksmitbing. Horseshoeing, Paint
ing and Trimming. Call up No. 451 and we
will do the rest.
WHOLESALE GROCERS.
GOOD HEALTH
Is one of the greatest blessings bestowed on
mankind. Excesses aro great destroyers of
health. A little stimulant when taken In mod
eration, such as the OLD KNICKERBOCKER
RYE and OLD FaBHIONED RYE WHISKIES
are preservatives. Ask your grocers for these
with our name and guarantee.
HENRY SOLOMON &. SON,
Wholesale Liquor Dealers, Savannah, Gi
OLd newspa pfrb—uoo for oent-4tt
Business Office Morning News.
SflOE*.
“Grit makes the man;
The want of it the chump;
The men who win lay hold,
Hang on, and hump.”
We are trying to wia To
do so the verse says we must
hump, lay hold aud hang on.
TEAT'S WHY WE PERSIST
In calling your attention to our
Fine Footwear
We hang onto you to buy because we must
have your trade, if possible, and we feel sure
you can’t do better.
BET WE CAN’T HANG ON
To our goods a great while at a trip.
Once seen they are same as sold. We
all kinds of SHOES. Stock constantly chang
ing—always new and fresh.
BUTLER liOIRISSEI
PLUMBER AND GAs 'FITTER.
ESTABLISHED 1!>53.'
JOHN NfcOLSON,
30 AND 32 DRAYTON STREET.
Practical Plumber, Steam
and Gasfitter.
A fine assortment of. GAS FIXTURES and
GLOBES, two to eight lights, at
moderate prices.
All sizes of
IRON AND LEAD AND OTHER PIPES AND
COCKS.
A full line of Valves and Fittings, from 14 W
6 inches. Everything necessary to fit upSteam,
Hydraulic and wind-mill power. ,
Civil and Steam Engineers will find it to their
advantage to call.
BATH TUBS,
WATER CLOSETS and
WASH BASINS.
CHANDELIERS. GLASS GLOBES.
And other articles appertaining to a first-class
honest establishment always in stock.
DON’T fail to get a copy of Sunday’s' fgueoj
the Homuho Nxws. For sale at BISHOP B
DRUG 8 TORE.corner Hall and Price streets.
