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PART TWO.
MATTIE’S COURTSHIP.
Snarly Half a Century Before She
Found a Mate.
Per Waiting Brought Its Reward—A
Romance of Love at First Sight Be
tween Two Elderly People—They
Lov od atid Were Engaged With
in Twenty-Four Hours.
From the Philadelphia Times.
The little town of Dorsett, Vermont, is
|r. a iiaiter of excitement, which for the
time being throws the silver question and
all other matters of national importance
into the shade. It is a regular social hur
ri ane that swooped down upon themoun
taiu side inhabitants like a veritable tor
nado with all the effects of a genuine
western cyclone. There is but one topic
of conversation, one channel of thought
and a very general cause for surprise and
hearty congratulation.
♦Martha McGovern, known for miles
about the green clad hills as spinster
Mattie, whose years have come and gone
until almost a half century has tied since
she first skipped a jumping rope or tossed
a reel hoop in the village school yard af
ter a fond parent had brought her from
her native soil in old Massachusetts.
When Mattie first sp \v the light of day
her baby eyes looked frdm the little bed
room windows on the third floor out upon
iireeu's gentle slope, which all the world
of America venerate and worship in their
patriotism as grand old Bunker Hill.
When Mattie grew up to the full stature
ol a woman’s growth she had but one am
bition. and that was to beloved.
Her father’s position, as proprietor of a
large store, gave her advantages in the
social whirl that were enviable. She
studied incessantly until she was re
garded as an intellectual and musical
wonder, to he regarded in both fear and
admiration by her large circle of acquain
tances.
Mattie became an intellectual giant,
and from her lofty intellectual heights
hi held one after another of her school
mates drift away from beneath their pa
rental roofs and go out into the "wide,
wide world” and establish homes of their
Own.
She attended so many weddings that
she had unconsciously committed the er
emony to heart, and for years past had
become so accustomed to recite it on all
occasions that her colossal brain had ex
panded beyond the owner's control, and
the poor girl soon became regarded as an
‘ innocent,” a term that is applied to im
beciles in Ireland, the land in which her
parents were born.
It has been many years since Mattie’s
Httentkin was drawn to the fact that sho
♦Os '‘the last rose of summer, left bloom
ing alone,” with all her ‘‘companions
scattered and gone.” Twelve years ago
she was left an orphan, with an income
from her father s estate sufficient to.sup
port her in comparative affluence, but
like many another "angel of mercy,” she
looked upon the woes of others as her
own, and regardless of consequences, set
about relieving all whom she found suf
fering. never realizing what she was do
ing in paring down her fortune until the
greater part of it had been appropriated
in striving to cheer those who were in
want.
At the end of five years poor Mattie’s
funds had dwindled down so low that she
was obliged to seek employment, and was
compelled to open a private school for
children. In this she succeeded for a
brief while, but as the children began
reciting the Episcopal marriage ceremony
to their parents, instead of showing that
they were mastering the rudiments of ed
ucation, they were withdrawn from the
£ bool. Mattie's next occupation was
that of governess in the family of the
proprietor of a marble quarry. Here she
succeeded for a brief period, when the
quarry master’s children surprised him
cue Sunday morning by reciting the mar
riage ceremony in concert at the break
fast table.
t msequently Mattie's position was de
clared vacant. A position in a Manches
ter dry goods store was tendered and ac
cepted by the young lady, whoso years
were multiplying. Here she became the
idol of a bevy of associates, to whom in
leisure hours she would impart the bene
fit of her knowledge and drill in the mar
riage ceremony until every young lady
connected with the store was qualified to
fill the honored position of either bride,
bridesmaid or maid of honor, and perhaps
sue was the cause of each of her asso
ciaics tilling the position first named.
Mattie had not wanted and
that she had not married formed the
standing wonder of the neighborhood. In
fio manner prudish, an entertaining con
versationalist, goou-looking above the
average and a thorough musician, she
was always welcome among her friends.
1 pou a recent Sunday evening Mattie
a" ruled church, whoro she heard an
tuoquont discourse on “Tho Follies of
J -‘A. delivered by an elderly clergyman,
w. had come from Pennsylvania to re
‘TU! ’ ‘.is health among the green hills of
' r :.ont. At the conclusion of the ser
v‘ - Mattie lingered in her pew until the
clergyman walked down the aisle, when
S; s: , pod out beside him, extended her
® ,v. Lite hand and heartily congratu
lated him on what he had so eloquently
said.
Hie preacher paused to listen to her
an. i words of praise, and holding her
hv, ''''thin the grasp of his own, said:
daughter, your words bring joy and
1 ness to iiiy-lieurt. Your frankness is
v commendable, your criticism just
' ’Ur approbation highly appreciated.
“ •dP.v must be the man who lias the
i 1 :v of your constant companionship.
, 1 aime you arc a woman who is eher
‘i ( by a loving and devoted husband.”
. ’ih. my dear sir,” replied Mattie, as
. eyelids drooped and a crimson flush
‘ 1 'Tedup from beneath her chin and
, 1 l ad itself over her <fi .vneast face, ‘‘l
“ what the world calls an old maid, a
'“crand other such appellations that
‘‘‘ applied to those whom Cupid has
1 ’ nod upon. No, sir; it hath not
n'Cd the Lord hitherto to crown my
y u *th sucli a blessing.”
' hetber from pity or a desire to re
, r Hie marriagestate, Dr. Goodenough,
-i pressing her hand, said: “Reinem
d'ar. that tho ways of I’rovidence
~ scrutabie, and as tbe poet has said,
move* in * mysterious way His
8 , ‘ s to iieriorm,’ and ‘that there is a
j u lor ail things under the sun.’ ”
- . ’ lcno ™' all these things,” replied Ilut
ud X try to feel contented, but the
1 a> cold and shows no pity toward a
maiden. I wish you could know
t 1 a struggling life rniue has been
• ' my kind parents died. I feel that
an , ’Vaipaiiiize with me and prob
t,. . s .l )e k kind words of encourage -
. , u ' oula - ra.v daughter, and If you will
me to call upon you to-morrow be
She Jttofning Jfoto#.
fore I take my journey hence, I shall es
teem it a great pleasure.”
Hattie acquiesced and arranged that he
should call at 9 o'clock the next morning
This so overjoyed the preacher that fie
insisted upon accompanying her home.
Dr. Good enough arrived next morning as
the clock struck 9.
Upon being ushered into the little par
lor he said: “My daughter, I came here
promptly for two reasons; first, my desire
to have a conversation with you, and,
secondly, because my time is limited, so I
will gladly hear you relate your expe
rience and hope you will tell it with all
frankness.”
Mattie complied, and just as she had
concluded the dinner bell rang and her
visitor was invited to partake of the mid
day meal. After dinner the couple re
newed thqir conversation in the parlor,
whero two hours were spent in confi
dential talk, which ended in the preacher
asking her in the following way to be his
wife: “Miss McGovern, I believe
that a kind providence directed my steps
thitherward. I have been twice mar
ried and have ten children, all of whom
are noted for their obedience. When my
last wife, a noble woman, was laid away
1 felt that I could never marry again, a
thought that had held good until I met
you, now I feel that unless you consent to
be my guardian angel life will, indeed, be
miserable. I have means enough to keep
you in comparative plenty and can assure
you that you will have little to trouble
you. 1 know there Is a difference in our
years, but why should that prevent our
being happy? 1 want you, Martha, dear,
to cheer my heart by saying you will con
sent to be my wife without further waste
of precious time.”
“i hardly know what to say in rerly to
your proposition,” Mattie answered. “I
do not want to hurt your feelings, neither
do I wish to appear anxious on my part.
Your noble sentiments move my heart as
it has never been moved before, and. al
though we are strangers to each other, I
believe I would be doing an injustice to
dhe promptings of my heart should I de
cline your offer. If you think I coiftd
make you happy, theu I will be your
wife.”
‘‘Happy? Why, Matha, the term does
not begin to express the joy your words
have brought me. When shall we be
married f Let it be as early as possi
ble.”
Mattie thought her birthday, Oct. 0,
would answer, and fixed upon that date.
Toward evening the happy doctor left,
and, as the couple stood on the porch, he
asked her whether she was not also hap
py. In answer to the query, she leaned
her head upon his breast, and, gazing into
his face, said:
Thus is the way I have long sought.
C3)And mourned because I found it not.
□ ‘‘God bless my dear Mattie,” he re
plied, and, pressing a kiss upon her fore
head, the doctor strode forth to catch the
evening train that was to take him to his
destination.
Mattie threw open the windows,
seated herself at the piano and played in
sueh a manner that people on the streets
paused in front of the little cottage until
a crowd of enraptured listners leaned
upon the picket fence and drank in tbe
melody.
Next morning Mattie’s engagement
was the only topic of conversation, and
when the day of all days of her life comes
around there will be one of the heartiest
expressions of public good will ever known
among the inhabitants of the Green
mountain state. The clergyman who has
been selected {to perform the ceremony
says it will not do for him to attempt to
recite the ceremony from memory for
fear he might make some triffiing error,
and will read it word for word from the
book.
“I Love” in Thirty Languages.
* From the Chicago Herald.
A French amateur has amused himself
by finding out how the verb‘‘Hove” is
written in thirty dlffrrent languages.
Considering that po less than fifty-three
languages are spoken in Europe. 153 in
Asia, and so on, the result of the French
gentleman's researches amounts only to
a small fraction of the 860 different lan
guages that are spoken on our planet.
However, the result may be of some in
terest:
In English—l love.
In French —J’aime.
In German—lch liebe.
In Dutch —Ik lieb lie.
In Swedish—Jag alskar.
In Danish—Jeg elsker.
In Norwegian—Jeg elsker
In Latin —Amo.
In Italian—Amo:
In Spanish- Amo.
In Portuguese—Amo.
In Russian—Lioubliou.
In Polish —Koeham.
In Hungarian—Varak.
In Greek —Aghapo.
In Turkish—Sereyroum.
In Armenian—Gesirem.
' In Roumanian —En illbseb.
In Biscayan—Maitatzcndet.
In Hindoostan —Main bolta.
In Persian—Doustdaretn. .
In Arabic (Egypt)—Nef’al. t
In Arabic (Algeria)— Nehabb.
In Cambodic—Khubom sreland.
In Malay—Sahya suka.
In Annamitisli —Toi Thu'o’ng
In Chinauose—Ouo hihouaug.
In Japanese—Watakusi wa suki masa.
In Briton —Karan.
In Volapuk—Lofob.
The Fin De Siecle Boy.
From Kate Field s Washington.
In the good old days which produced
Webster, Beechers and Longfellows, 12-
year-old boys were wont to read composi
tions on horses, skating, butter and
other apprehensible and comprehensible
subjects, whereas now they must befog
themselves and their hearers with dis
sertations on immigration, arbitration,
socialism, university extension and the
like, or be covered with the ignominy of
the juvenile. How a parent would blush
in these days to hear his boy read a very
good and luminous composition on cows,
rifler hearing somebody else's boy read a
poor and nebulous one on “Theories of
Government!” We are all prone to join
in accomplishing tbe apotheosis of the
prig. Do we not all cry hail! to the little
mental prodigy, with his high white
brow and his low white collar, his weak
dissolving eyes, his manikin ways, flat
chest, studied speech and aversion to
leapfrog?
Tho Old Chestnut in Reality.
From the Philadelphia Press.
Pottstown.Sept. 13 —The hen roost of
Farmer Cpdegrove. of East Coventry,
was robbed of thirty-five chickens on
Tuesday night. This afternoon Mr. i.p
degrove caused a search warrant to issue
from Squire Harley s docket and Consta
bles Ecke and Amol searched the resi
dence of William H. Johnson, colored lo
cal preacher at Kenilworth, and in the
cellar the entire brood was found. While
the search was being made Johnson fled.
This evening the officers found him con
cealed under a pile °f straw in Jacob
Mauges' barn at South Putts town, and he
was arrested.
SAVANNAH, GA., SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1893.
IN THE EVERGLADES,
An Interesting Bear Hunt With Sem
inole Indians.
Bruin Was Finally Killed, But After
a Chase Which Destroyed the Ten
derfoot’s Ambitions—Hospitality of
Florida’s Indians.
From the Pittsburg Dispatch.
Kissimmee, Fla., Sept. 10.—During the
past mouth there have been reports that
the Seminole Indians were preparing
their war paint on account of a supposed
insult. Such news is not correct. The
Florida Indians would do nothing to
arouse the white man’s revenge, for they
have sense enough to know that if war
comes again it would mean extermina
tiori, ami their love for the land of the
palm is too dear to them to run any such
risk. So, when the monotony of these
long summer-bank-failing-days was bro
ken by an invitation to go bear hunting
with the Seminole chiefs, with more than
usual willingness for a hunt after big
game, we started.
It had been o,ur good fortune to befriend
an Indian chief during one of his vijits to
Kissimmee, and true to his Indian nature,
the kindness was not forgotten —not only
was his friendship assured, but that of
every Indian of the four different tribes —
about 400 in number. Securing an old
guide, a sail boat, enough provisions to
cause the Indians to exclaim: “Whiteman
eat plenty,” with our guns and fishing
tackle, and the usual snake bite remedy,
we turned our boat toward the Ever
glades and in three days found as wild
and weird a country' as Stanley ever ex
plored in darkest Africa. The second
day out two chiefs with their slaves—for
slavery does exist among the Setninoles—
met us in canoes. Tliey r came to show us
a shortcut to their distant Indian village.
We gave them the lead, and, on being re
duced to poling instead of sailing, worked
our way through water lilies, tall grass,
overhanging branches, getting stuck in
the shallow water and marsh, yet this
part of the trip had more zest to the
square mile than a hundred hunts in the
north could have.
A SENSE OF HUMOR.
The Indians have a keen sense of humor
and hearing we had never killed bear,
deer nor alligator, told our guide, -‘lndian
have fun ogus (heap) with white man,”
and as they continued to laugh and talk
together with significant looks toward
the - tenderfoot,” we took the spirit of
the fun and asked the question, “Nock-o
tee?” (what is it?), at every opportunity.
We enjoyed the sport with these childish,
friendly Indians, and caught trout, too,
as never before—some weighing 12
pounds— till we were tired pulling them
in. In front of us we saw something in
the water, and the usual question, “Nock
o-tee? The chief answered, a snake. We
shot and killed a beautiful water turkey,
so muoh prized for inountiug.
The next thing we came upon was an
alligator asleep.iwhich the Indian said
was dead. We punched him, and got
dashed full of water with his tail as he
disappeared under the surface. Theu
the yell of the red men proved they were
joking again at our ex-ponse. Another
time wo came upon # a herd of cattle feed
ing in the marsh on the maiden eano.
One guide told us these cattle were web
footed and first cousins to the sea cow.
We had an exhibition in the Indian skill
in throwing the spear and guiding the
canoe while standing. We could see no
sign of life anywhere except the swaying
of the large lily pads on top of water.
Whiz! went the spear with a long rope
attached, and 30 feet away a great com
motion was going on. Pulling in the
rope we saw on the spear a fine trout
which proved to weigh 12 pounds. Time
and again they threw, each time with the
same success.
As we reached the Seminole village
twenty dogs came rushing at us. but re
ceiving a good scolding in Seminole lan
guage they sku'ked away. A couple
dozen pickaninnies came too to inspect the
pale faces; then followed six or eight—
straight as arrows—lndian braves. These
we were introduced to.
The Seminole word of welcome was
given. “Ha-tee-eten-chee-kick-cha-hit-is
chay," meauing ' Glad to see you.” The
village we found to be about a dozen wig
wams and several palmetto sheds, ar
ranged with no view to looks. We could
not be unmoved by the thought that here
is a tattered and poverty-stricken hand
ful of warriors that once held a strong
government at bay for fifty years. Con
cealed in the fastnesses of tho Ever
glades, their removal is an impossibility.
The Seminoles are suspicious, fearful that
some pale-faced government agent will
discover them, so when an invitation to
go bear hunting was received we knew
the friendship of the braves was gen
uine.
The trail the dogs soon found, and if
ever a sound was sweet to ears it was tho
baying of five hound,s close on bruin’s
trail. The Indians yelled, but wo were
getting well worn out, and bravely
brought up the rear. A hunt in the Ev
erclades, pulling through soft mud.
climbing over logs, pushing through vines,
crawling on hands and feet through the
tangled, matted undergrowth, getting
into deep black, miry mud above the
knee, expecting or fearing each step we
would strike a moccasin, are the penal
ties paid for the romantic, adventurous
hunt with a Seminole Indian.
At last the leading dog reached tho
hear and the attack commenced, but
Madam Bruin was too for the dog,
and one blow broke his leg. The .dog’s
howls caused the other dogs to stop a
second and the bear dashed off for the
thicket, the Indians, on account of the
denseness of the forest, not being able to
get a fair shot at the retreating enemy.
CUTE AS CONNECTICUT YANKEES.
Many tourists hire the Indians who fre
quent civilization to guido them in hunts,
but the Indian “no like pale face,” and
will mislead the tenderfoot, taking him
around and around, always keeping out of
sight of game, and, with a cunning that
would do credit to a Connecticut Yankee,
feels as disappointed as the hunter |>ssi
bl.v could. It is not poor laj's idea to
show the white man his hunting grounds.
Reaching the Seminole homes, we ar
ranged our tents, divided our provisions
with the chiefs and the young bucks, and
started out with the bear dogs to pros
pect for bruin. At noon we returned,
having found where a bear had aten one
of their hogs at only a distance of three
miles from camp. This was sufficient;
not only was the Indian eager for the
hunt, but vengeance for the lost hog was
fresn. Only the dogs trained for bear
were taken and at daybreak we started.
Traveling a few miles we struck a marsh,
heavily timbered with cypress, which
grew so close the sun’s rays could not
reach the earth. If makes dark, damp
and dangerous ground to enter.
THE CHIEF WAS UKTERMINED.
At. this point we were willing to play
quits. Not so old Chief Tallahassee. His
vengence was aroused. Examining the
dog, he said. Big 10-co-sce (bean fight
heap. Kill Tallahassee'ssook-aw (hog) *
to-day hurt o-faw (dog). Indian kill lo
co-see.” This settled it. Nothing would
have pleased us so much as ramp. Three
hours tramp til rough the Juugios had
taken all the enthusiasm out of us, but
the stalwart red men had defiance in
their faces as they answered, •Uiuk-les- :
ehay (good). Kill 10-co-see to-day.” In
the meantime bruin hud crossed the
marsh and gotten into a tree on the op
posite bank, and this trickery put the
creek behind him. This did not daunt a
Seminole Indian. The Indians swam the
creek, tolling us to go down a mile, where
we would find a log across the deep
water.
Then we regretted even droaming a
bear hunt. Nice sport, but safety de
pended on not losing sight of the Indians
and wading through water waist deep,
coupled with thoughts of alligators and
snakes. We wished for wings. At last
the bear was driven to and surrounded on
a small island—the island covered with
tall grass and weeds, hiding both dogs
and bear. The Indians yelled as only In
dians cun. and kept up a continuous firing
at anything that resembled bruin. The
dogs grew furious, and several times
forced the bear Uxstahd and fight. The
Indians were in their future hoaven, but
we "tenderfeot” were getting very shy of
being hugged. The frequent howls of the
dogs proved that they were getting nun
ishod badly. Old Tallahassee with a
“scathe gun" was standing in a small,
clear place, right in front of bruin’s
path. The bear forced out of the tall
grass, within a few feet of the Indians,
rose on its hind legs, and with open arms
made for him, when, stepping back,
he emptied both barrels in bruin's
side. This ended the chase.
a mo r>AT’B WORK.
The Indians each took a load of the Im
mense carcass and we started for cffrnp.
When we reached there It was nightfall.
The “tenderfoot,” getting a place to rest,
tried to think “Betty and me killed the
bear.” The first thing done was to catch
the young dogs wanted lor future bear
hunting and rub their noses ugaiust, the
bear skin. This is excruciating pain to
the dogs, and they ran and howlod for
hours, but no matter to the Indians.
This is done to make them perfect in
trailing the hear. The Indians su\d:
“E-fa-chee (dog) hunt 10-co-see good
by and by.” Of all the game of the
forest bear meat is the favorite dish
of the Florida Indians. Squaws, pick
aninnies, and dogs reveled in it. They
commenced in theevenieg: that night and
all tho next they made stews, soups,
“sofka.” roast, fries, etc. The squaws
and pickaninnies stand back while the
men cat. The Indian is hospitable, and
repeatedly the solicitation to the pale
face was "humbux-chay” (eat plenty).
Surely, if ever the strong were bound
to aid the weak, to treat them as human
beings, we should give the Indians the
protection of American law, and as we
spend millions to the memory of Colum
bus, we should remember tho price, paid
for this grand country was “some little
red caps and some glass beads.’’
FRENCH CODE OF HONOR.
Even the Courts Regard the Duel as a
Fact in Public Life.
From the St, Louis Qiobe-Democrnt.
In France the duel is still a recognized
fact in public life. The church condemns
it. The public shows some littlo indigna
tion when a duel lias a fatal issue, as in
the case of young Capt. Mayer last year.
But no man could live down the refusal
to fight under ordinary circumstanoes.
This prejudice is so great that it controls
even the courts of justice. A few weeks
since a newspaper editor in Tarbes fought
a duel with a city councillor to his own
discomfiture. He took advantage of the
columns of his paper to accuse his adver
sary of having used his left hand in the
encounter—a thing forbidden by the code
in fighting with swords. This statement
brought him a suit for libel, and he was
condemned to six months’ imprisonment
with 21)00 francs damages to pay plus the
insertion of the decision of the court in
six newspapers at the choice of the man
whose honor he had impugned. Alphonse
Daudet maintains that the duel will al
ways hold good among the Larin natifms
—that it belongs to their idea of honor
which no civilization can do away with.
In the old times the duel was an affair
of honoramong a professional tribe of gen
tlemen who had littie else to do than to
attend to their public honors and private
pleasures. In the army it has always
been a matter of military etiquette, as
rigorously observed in Germany as in
France. But in France the duel lias
now come to be engineered for the most
part by newspaper men. Often tho
ground of offense is something that has
appeared in print, and, at least, the quar
rel is sure to be first ventilated in the pub
lic press. The duel is announced before
hand as an item of news. Often enough
tho arargetnents, the disputes about
punctilious of honor, and, in general, the
theatrical side of the combat, are handed
over to the journalists. Then, when tho
duel is over, the “witnesses” (they are no
longer the “seconds.”) showdheir literary
skill in a proces-verbal which isput.isheil
gloriously.
THE l-UACTICE IS OF GERMAN ORIGIN.
It often happens that the duel results
in nothing more than this harmless ex
hibition of vanity. But too often tho
French duel ends in death or serious per
sonal injuries. Anil, what is worse, L
keeps alive among the higher classes that
same recklessness of life and cruel appe
tite for blood which, among the common
people, produced the reign of terror in
the great revolution, the massacres of the
commune in 1871, and still renders life in
Paris by night insecure in comparison
with London or Berlin.
Whatever Daudet and other French
writers may say in defense of their coun
trymen's practice, dueling came to them
not from the Latin races but from the
Germans. This primitive peeple imagined
that God was bound to staud by the right.
When a warrior or high personage was
accused of a crime with no one but his
accuser to bear witness to his guilt the ac
cuser and the accused —or someone to
represent them—were set to fighting the
matter out together, it was victory or
death that decided who had told the
truth. This was trial by combat, and
took place by public authority like any
other judicial trial.
This kind of trial b> single combat was
kept up in France as late as 1509, when
Charles IX. finally abolished it- Mean
while privale duels, with nothing judicial
about them, had grown into the customs
of the French people.’ The church re
peatedly ordered that Christian burial
should be denied to those dying in a duel.
This may have restrained individuals,
but it has bad little effect on the race.
The essential elements of a duel are
that it should be a private combat be
tween two persons, decided on by mutual
agreeiuen’ . its cause should be tbe
defense of th<- honor of one of the parties
and the giving satisfaction for wounded
honor by the other, and the combat
should be fought with deadly weapons |
until the honor is satisfied.
In the old days honor was never satis
fied short of the disabling or death of one I
of the parties, in present usage any j
scratch which puts one party in the posi
tion of manifest inferiority to the other, |
or even a popping of pistols that produces
no results at all. after a couple of times,
is thought sufficient. A fist fight cannot
be a duel on account of the nature of the
weapons. This has boen decided by can
onists, in cases where an unlucky blow
has produced death and objection was
made to Christian burial on tho ground of
dueling; the fist, of Its nature, Is not a
deadly weapon; Paul do Cassagnac, the
sharp-tongued editor of l'Aulorite,
the Bonapartist Journal, has had
duels without end. After seventeen had
proved his courage beyond possibility of
doubt he ventured on anew choice of
woaiwns. He had beeu challenged by a
fellow -ditor who was a notoriously had
speller: he chose to light the duel with—
orthography. Practically the only
weapons now used arc the fencing sword
and the pistol, their use being universally
familiar to persons likely to light duels.
Recently the Count d’Hnussonville, who
is far In tho 00s, was challenged by a much
younger man, and the seconds, despite
tho usual custom about the ehoieo of
weapons, restricted the contestants to
pistols, tho count's age preventing him
from using the sword with sufficient agil
ity.
THE ORIGIN OF SECONDS.
In olden days seconds were not only tho
aides and abettors of their'principals, but
had to be ready at a moment's notice to
set to on their own account. From this
grew the title by which they have fqr
hundreds of years boen known. Nowadays
tho business of each pair of set'onds or
witnesses to whom the principals have
confided the interests of their honor is,
first, to decide whether the violation of
honor lias been such as to warrant the
duel: second, whether tho parties am
qualified to make such reparation of
honor, a man notoriously stigmatized
being evidently rullod out by the code;
thirdly, to leave no means untried for
settling the affair without recourse to
arms; and only then, finally, to de
cide on the details of the combat.
The witnesses are themselves in no
wise involved in the quarrel of their
principals. In the crop of ohalleages that
lately sprang up against the rudieal
leader Clemeneeau, one of the parties who
had failed in forcing a fight on him en
deavored to have it odt with his wit
nesses. This was noted as an “incorrec.-
tion," violating tho code. In rooro than
one hot debate of the last parliamentary
session, when tho friends of one deputy
had been put iu relation with the friends
of another, it was ilecited that there was
no cause for a duel. Of course, the read
iness of both parties to light—if there had.
been any cause—was duly made known,
and each set of witnesses published a
process-verbal, which testified to their
own perfect “nonorabilite.”
The question of the offense is tho most
delicate of all, for to offended party
belongs the choice of weapons. The of
fense may be given by spoken word, by
something written, by a gesture or a
blow. It must be something calculated
to wound publicly the self-love and
“honor” of the other party. Such an of
fense may have different degrees. Taken
by itself, it gives the offended party the
right to the choice of weapons. If accom
panied by an insult, it gives him also the
right of choosing the duel, which ought
to take place within forty-eight hours.
If there is a direct blow or assault ho has
oven the choice of distances as well.
BRECKINRIDGE’S DEFENSE.
The Colonel’s Answer to the Pollard
Breach of Promise Suit.
From the Philadelphia Record.
Louisville, Ky., Sept. 18.—Congressman
Breckiuridge has written letters to his
friends in Lexington in which he outlines
his plans of defense against Miss Made
line Pollard's suit. In a letter to one of
his most intimate associates Mr. Breckin
ridge states that he will deny the truth
of the plaintiff's charge that an engage
ment ever existed between the two, or
was ever discussed, or even hinted at, by
either. The defendant will deny that he
ever stated that he was engaged to Miss
Poliard or introduced her as his fiancee.
Colonel Breckinridge denounced as
false the statement that he introduced
Miss Pollard into Washington society, or
was in any way responsible for the impo
sition the gay Kentucky girl practiced on
tno Washington 400. As to the charge
that he is the cause of the wayward girl’s
downfall, a flat denial will be recorded
under oath. He will also declare that he
is in no way responsible for her undesira
ble career, and assert that he had noth
ing to do with her until he knew her
character was not good.
CONFESSED THAT ANOTHER WRONOED lIER.
It is also said that Colonel Breckinridge
will propose to prove that Miss Pollard
confessed to him that she had boeu be
trayed by James Rodes, and avowed her
intention of leading the life which she
had pursued. Rodes paid her tuition at j
Sayre Institute, and called as frequently i
as hb was permitted to see her at Mrs.
Ketchum's. She would never )>ermit him
to stay longer than 9 o’clock, and when be
would call would always entertain him in
the parlor with the members of the family
present. She hated Rodes and called him
an “old fool.”
She goto position while at Mrs. Ketch
unt’s at the “Gazette” office, after which
she notified Rodes that she would not re
ceive his attentions any longer.
It is reported in Lexington that Miss
Pollard intends to enter the theatrical
profession after the trial comes off, and
will interpret only romantic roies and
that a dramatist is already at work on a
play for her.
According to Col. Breckinridge, the
manner in whicli Miss Pollard was intro
duced into Washington society is entirely
different from the stonSs in regard to her
debut, which.it is claimed, originated
from the widow of the late Gov. Black
burn.
The colonel denies having been the
power that made Miss Pollard a welcome
guest at the best gathering at the capital.
Col. Breckinridge explains the matter in
this way: He says that while the widow
of a distinguished admiral was visiting
the inmates of a house of visitation *in
Washington she met Miss Pollard
By the use of her splendid conversa
tional powers Miss Pollard succeeded in
attraeting tho attention and at the same
time engaging the interest and friendship
of the admirals widow She invited
Miss Pollard to her home and introduced
her to several members of tho Bayard
family. They in turn presented her to a
number of society people, and soon the
ambitious young woman had the entree
to tho most exclusive circles of Washing
ton society.
Mrs. Ketchum, at whose house Miss
Pollard boarded while in Ixixington, says
that Col. Breckinridge once look rooms
there, remaining three or four weeks,
and be and the girl never api>cared much
th each other's company.
' DRY GOODS.
A cm GUSTAVE ECKSTEIN & CO. will sell this
week those extra tine large Wool Blankets now
ora- B on exhibition in Show Windows on Congress st.
Mfcr lane at $5 a pair. Regular price would be $B.
ECKSTEINS
Just the thing for School Girls,
Misses' Reefers Half Price.
Imported Novelties, g The Very Best Makes
Dress Goods. Black Goods.
The Latest Fashionable Creations.
Ladies' Cape Coats & Jackets.
The Best in Savannah, The Best in Savannah,
BLACK HOSE. Linen Towels.
Warranted Fast Black, 25c. Warranted Pure Linen, 25c.
$3 Large White Blankets $2.
40-in. All-wool Dress Goods Printed Outings,flannel back
At 49 cents. At 12 l-2c.
NewStormSerges&Hops'king
50c Beautiful Handkerchiefs Fine All-wool Blazers
At 25 cts. At Half Price.
Decided Bargains Underwear.
Always in the lead! Finest Goods and Lowest Prices.
Buy Now and Save Money.
Entire stock new and complete. The Latest and Correct
Styles.
GDSTAVE ECKSTEIN&CO
BROUGHTON STREET.
Our Kid Gloves have arrived. ,We continue to have
the exclusive sale of the Celebrated Centemeri Kid Gloves
Now is the time to prepare your children for school.
Come to us for Hosiery, Underwear, Handkerchiefs, Silk
Ties, and by all means buy Ferris’ Waists.
Children’s Fast Black Hose 15c. Children’s Handker
chiefs 4c. ,
We will continue the sale of Ladies’ Sateen and Mull
Waists at 75c; worth $1 48, Si 62 and $1 75.
MINERAL WATER.
LIVINGSTON'S PHARMACY.
dSpic:
-FINE COINFECTIONS.
ROLAND WATER.
HARRIS LITHIA WATER.
SOLE AGENT
A Few Pairs Halt's Spectacles aid otter $2 50 gaols am selling at 15c per pair.
LIVINGSTON’S PHARMACY, ’Phone 293. Congress & Bull Sts.
MACHINERY.
KEHOE’S IRON WORKS,
IKON AND BRASS FOUNDERS, MACHINISTS, BLACKSMITHS AND BOILEKMAK
EKS, ENGINES, BOILERS AND MACHINERY, SHAFTING, PULLEYS, ETC
Special attention to Repair Work. Estimates promptly lurnishei Broughton street
rom Reynold* to Randolph streets. Telephone 263.
PAGES 9 TO 10.
SOLE AGENT