Newspaper Page Text
PART TWO.
OUR CLEVER CHATTERER.
Bab Entertained at Luncheon, and
Lends a Hand at Sewing.
Will Langtry Write a Novel P - The
Jersey Lilly as Beauty and Scholar.
The Latest Hair Creasing Fad—Fair
Woman’s Pictures in the Newspa
pers—Life in Washington this Win
ter-Future Presidents Considered.
A Girl’s Merry Laugh.
(Published.)
New York, Feb. 34.—There is nothing
going on just now, except teas and sew
ing circles i and at both of them conversa
tion becomes chatter, and there is noth
ing so high or so low about which lovely
women cannot give her opinion. At the
rmartest of the sewing classes, which
meets at different houses, there is a
luncheon serv ed from the sideboard, and
the workers are expected not only to
bring busy fingers, but a good appetite.
For. although the good things to eat are
cot spread out on a table, still that doesn’t
prevent there being plenty of pate de
foie gras, quantities of strawberries,
sandwiches of all sorts, salads, tea and
chocolate, and, following the French
fashion, good claret. One sews a little
while, eats a little while, and the gar
ment that one doesn’t finish is taken
home, and furnishes employment prob
ably to another member of the house
hold.
1 always elect to hem towels myself;
oue can talk and listen and keep on sew
ing over them, whereas a more elaborate
piece of work demands cons ent atten
tion. Then, too, lam a great believer in
the propagation of clean towels, and of
big rowels, and of soft towels. Tam very
much given to judging people by the
quantity and kind of towels displayed in
their bath rooms. A good, big one, soft
to the touch and immaculate in appear
ance, always suggesting to me a good hos
tess and ono who desires that her visitors
shall be possessed of that virtue counted
next to godliness. ,
LANGTRY AS A WRITER.
The other day, as I was sewing, I heard
a woman near me say, "So Langtry is
going to write a novel?” I lost my thim
ble, but clung to my needle, as I answered
her, “I don’t know what she is doing now,
but Ido know that when she was in this
country she had a large square diary
which locked, and she told me that she
was going to write in it everything she
knew about interesting people, pleasant
or unpleasant; that she intended to put
in their names—their true names—to
state places and dates, but that she didn't
propose this book should be published un
til she was a very old woman, or perhaps
not until after her death. What a lot of
people will be frightened if they think
that is the book she is going to publish
now!”
1 picked up my thimble and started in
to sew again, and the other woman said
‘ what a beauty that woman is! Doesn't
she look fine and majestic in that last pic
ture which shows her in a low gown ex
hibiting those beautiful shoulders, a
string of pearls around her neck and a
diamond tiara on her'liead? How many
other women would look well in sued a
tiara! Those women in New York who
have them don't seem to get them on
right, and at the opera the other night
one woman hadn’t secured her’sproperly,
and it tipped a little to one side and made
her look absoiutoly tough. Hut to return
to Mrs. Langtry. What a pleasure and
yet what a temptation it is to be a beauty
like that!”
•\es,’ said I, “and Inever realizedhow
much of a temptation it was until one day
wh< <i Mrs. Kendal was talking. She was
speaking of the time when Langtry first
appeared in London after the picture that
had been painted of her by Frank Miles
and which Oscar Wilde bad named ‘The
Jersey Lily.’ Mrs. Kendai said that much
oueht to be forgiven a woman who had
been so much made of and
WHOSE EXTREME BEAUTY
had been recognized all over the world.
She said the lirst time she appeared after
this picture was exhibited, duchesses
stood on chairs to look at her; people
pushed and crowded to stare at this young;
woman who walked like a goddess, and
who seemed as entirely unconscious as if
she were in the flower garden at home on
the quiet Isle of Jersey. What would we
do if we had beauty like that? That is one
reason why it is something not always to
Oo desired: still I never saw a woman who
wasn’t willing to give up everything for
the sake of being beautiful. By-the-by
dm you know that Mrs. l.angtry, in addi
tion lo her knowledge of modern lan
guages, is a good Greek and Latin scholar ?
• 6 v, Waß c^Ul ' a l < ‘d with her brothers, and
as she had a good mind and a marvelous
memory, she absorbed all she was taught,
and she has never forgotten it.”
By this time I was ready for a fresh
towel, so after waiting five valuable min
utes in an effort to get a coarse thread in
the e.\e of a fine needle and feeling that
1 would like to sav some of the words so
emphatically uttered b.v Mrs. Carlyle, I
got started again. The topic had changed,
and everybody was talking about the new
"ay of arranging the hair. A knot in my
thread may me say ‘’Bother!” And then
1 .pitied in. “For my part, I don't think
it is becoming to everybody. The part
just down the center of the head is only
suited to women who have oval, but not
thin faces, and it never ought to be worn
h.v a round-faced woman. And yet we
arc suih a sheepish lot that we all do just
uke somebody else and
ARRANGE OCR LOCKS MADDONNAWISE,
f ven if it makes us look ton years older,
as it is certain to do when the face is not
adapted to the coiffure. I will tell you
what I think arc hideous; the fluffs of
hair arranged low on each side of the
forehead, and which, when one is at the
theater, make the girl in front look as if
she were a bearded woman, a ia Dun
urcary. It must be rather convenient to
‘no Princess of Wales. People be
lieve. because she always wears it the
same way, that it is her own hair, but
it isn't. For a long time sho has worn
wigs, and they are the most natural
ones possible. According to all ac
counts she has fifty, and they arc regu
lai I v brushed and each takes Its turn in
being worn The wig suits her face, but
why in the world do her daughters per
sist in wearing fronts, for they look like
fronts, though I am certaiu they are
tin ir own hair, after the fushion of their
moi her? They are ugly girts, anyhow,
and with all this curled moo coining so
far down on their foreheads they look
heavy and stupid and like their father,
it is uuecr that such a handsome mother
should have had such an ordinary-looking
lot ot children The poor Duke of Clar
ence appeared the most inane of dudes,
and the Duke of Vora Is u stolid, heavy
fellow, nut possessing mi air of nobility,
bui looking as If he belonged to a well-to
do- family of tho middle class. The
Duchess of Fife has a pleasant face, but
the other two sisters are absolutely ugly,
though English people say of them that
they are homely, and you know they don’t
mean that as wo do. They explain the
word as being domestic, and though not
beautiful, full of goodness and kindness.”
RICH GIRLS IN PRINT.
A woman who was knitting wash rags
took the floor for a minute or two, and
went on to abuse the papers for putting
in the pictures of fashionable women and
of ri b girls. I immediately broke a
needle, and armed with the point of it.
started in to defend the press. "My dear
madam,” I said, "your daughter's picture
would not have been in the paper last
Sunday if someone hadn’t given to that
paper her photograph, and I must say
that in nine cases out of ten, those photo
graphs are gladly presented b.y a member
of the immediate family, and most of the
talk about objection to publicity is as
sumed. Every blessed onf of you de
lights in something pleasant being print
ed about you, and every blessed one of
you will buy innumerable papers when
the pleasant paragraph appears and send
them around to your friends. If your
daughter's picture is on sale, then you
have already made it public property, and
if you only give her picture to the people
who are close to her. the publicity to
which you object will not bo hers. Rep
utable newspapers don't print pictures of
women against her wishes, and it is ail
what the London coster calls ‘tommy
rot’ when you insist upon saying that
you didn't wish it to go in and' that you
object to your parties being written
about, but that the newspapers get in
formation in some mysterious way. They
don’t. They get it in a very straightfor
ward way, and if you don’t like to. you
can very soon stop it by simply stating to
the very first reporter that comes near
you that you would rather not have any
thing published about you. Your request
will be respected, and you can live just as
quiet a life ‘as you’ want. By-the bye,
everybody says it is so dull in Washington
this year.”
a sbxator’s wife talks.
“Oh, yes,” answered a Senator’s wife,
vsho was just finishing a pinafore; “this
Administration is not a lively one. They
are entertaining so little they must be
saving money. Neither the Republicans
nor the Democrats know exactly where
they stand, because they don’t know
what Mr. Cleveland is, and lam always
inclined to call him the Doubtful Presi
dent. Some people say the reason why
we hear so little about Mrs. Cleveland,
is because he doesn’t propose to have
his glory dimmed by the charm of a
young and pretty woman. Of course,
that is just gossip; but it is very like a
man, and, after all, a President is only
a man. I don't know who I should like to
see go in next time, but somebody with
brains and good manners and gentle birth
who we would all be very proud of no
matter what his politics might be. But
then I don’t believe in a political Presi
dent. The Senate and the House cau at
tend to all that, and the President need
only decide as far as possible, by the as
sistance of the cahinet, Wliat is good for
the country at large. Mr. Whitney, Mr.
Carlisle, Gov. McKinley, any one of the
three would make a good President, don't
you think so!”
“Well,” said I, “1 am a democrat, but I
would like to see Mr. McKinley elected,
because I like his record as a man, and I
believe he is a gentleman. I have heard
no end of nice stories about him; and
then, too, I have heard he is devoted to
bis wife, and beautifully considerate of
all women.”
A girl at the end of the room, who was
threading needles for somebody, suddenly
laughed, and a woman who had been
silently sewing, and who had an expres
sion of sadness on her face, smiled and
looked happier.
My neighbor asked me:
‘‘isn’t that the mkhbiest laugh
you ever heard?”
And I answered. “That girl is a mental
cocktail. She braces one up as no liquid
ever would, and no matter how weary one
may be, she infuses one with the same
glad spirits that sho has. It's a spiritual
iaoeulation. There is a welcome for her
wherever she goes, and yet to my certain
knowledge she has rather more than the
usual number of worries, but sho makes
the best of them. She never tells her
stories of woe, but gets nearyou, you feel
as if there were more sunshine and more
goodness in the world than you had
ever thought of before. 1 don’t think
she troubles herself* about analyzing
things, but she has a vague idea that
it is the duty of all women to make life
as bright as possible, and to keep the
dark parts well out of sight. She wraps
her skeletons up in soft cotton, and even
those who are closest to her, never hear
their bones rattle. She is appreciative,
and accepts a kindness shown her exactly
as it is offered. And somehow she seems
to be able to find out the best in every
body. Oh. she is not a saint: sho has a
nice little temper of her own, but sho
only lets it appear when she thinks it is
absolutely necessary. I like that girl,
don't you?
•“Yes,” said the other woman. “I do
like her, but, why!”
For the same reason that I like some
girls.
REAL SWEET GIRLS.
We all like somo types of girls.
You and I like a pretty girl—she is a
joy to look at.
You and I like a merry girl—she bright
ens all life for us.
You and I like a bright girl—she starts
our brains working.
You and I like a girl who talks well—
she makes us forget what we would rather
not think about.
You and 1 like a faithful girl—she has a
beautiful belief that we would like her to
give us.
You and I like a considerate girl—shejis
the living proof that there are unselfish
people.
You and 1 like the girl who has all these
virtues; for there are girls who possesses
every one of them—healthy, happy, inno
cent giris that make pleasant companions,
faithful friends, loyal daughters and
loving wives. Three oheers for the nice
girl.'’
1 waived my towel in the air in my ex
citement. anil the nice girl laughed when
she saw the white flag llyiug, and she
called out, "Who is that over there who
is larking instead ef sewing?”
And my neighbor was moan enough to
say, "You needn’t try to guess, it’s
Bab.
Mamma—What are you and Freddie
quarrelling about?
"Wo were playing keep houscand Fred
die came home and found dinner wasn t
ready.”—Chicago Inter Ocean.
Elderly Maiden—This is so unexpected,
Mr. Wellalong. that—that you must give
me time.
Elderly I.over—Time, Miss Rebecca?
JJoyouUilnk there is any to spare!—
Chicago Trinune
Herr Joachim, the great violinist, relei rates
this year the jubilee of his English debut,
lie Is now In England git tug concerts.
SAVANNAH, GA„ SUNDAY. FEBRUARY 2:>, 1894.
AN EXPLOSIVE AFFAIR.
From the Cincinnati Enquirer.
One gloomy, sultry day in early fall I
entered an elevated train to go from one
end of the metropolis to the other. A
long distance, else I should not have
spent so large a part of my scanty meaus;
but I was feeble from sickness, and, be
sides, men always venture what they
have, be it great or small, in the hope of
getting more. My purpose was to take
some pen and ink sketches, carefully but
toned under my coat, to a down-town
dealer; fori was and am an artist; then
an unsuccessful one, and, what is worse,
a poverty-stricken and hungry one, too.
I can’t blame myself very seriously for
such an uncomfortable state of aftairs.
A young bachelor, with many friends and
luxurious tastes, is hardly to be con
demned for living from hand to mouth,
especially if that mouth was fecund with
smiles and the hand facile in cunning. I
had not anticipated that I should lie set
upon by footpads and beaten, that a slow
fever would thereafter waste my
strength, and that friends and tastes
would repudiate such unpleasant circum
stances. Had I done so i should not have
fallen in love with the only child of prob
ably the richest and decidedly the mean
est man in the city ; but, like the laborer
who forgot that the hole in the scaftold
had never been repaired, I fell first and
reflected afterward.
There were but few passengers on board
the car, and I readily found a vacant seat,
one, though, that had been recently oc
cupied. for on the half next to the window
lay a newspaper.
Wandering thoughts, I am sure, are
merciful; otherwise the miserable would
brood into despair. My debility, my
penury, my dubious future, might sep
arately be well entitled to undivided at
tention. Yet scarcely was I settled when
my mind's eye centered on a sweet, tender
face—the face .if my beloved, of course—
of Annabelle Smithers, ever dear, ever
near, though we were parted by a gulf as
deep as that between Lazarus and Dives.
My mind’s eye saw her face, my memory
reviewed those scenes, entrancing even
in their cruelty, since she was connected
with them.
I recalled how wo had met, and often
through the society oi common acquaint
ances; how intimacy and confidence and
love had speedily followed in the train of
occasion; how I dared address her father
and ask his consent to our marriage; how
he had repulsed me with words shameful
to be heard; how we had planned an
elopement, and how, on my way to our
tryst, I had been waylaid and beaten.
Had those men been footpads? What in
terest in such as me had men who took
such chances for gain? I seemed to see
that old man’s cunning leer as he had
dismissed me; I seemed to realize that
bis crafty will had impelled those
bludgeons. At least, he must have
suspected, for when but that very morn
ing I had asked at the house for Anna
belle. the servant had told me she had
gone away, and had slammed the door in
my face.
Ah, well! My nature is buoyant and
hopeful. I have French blood in my
veins, as my name. Paul Lenier, at your
service, may indicate; and, as every
Frenchman knows, that brings with it an
unconquerable spirit. I would not per
mit myself to be depressed by circum
stances after being so honored by them;
I would not hoarken to the rumble of the
train reiterating "Nevermore!” “Never
more!” Asa diversion I picked up the
newspaper by my side, and there, under
neath, discovered a small, square pack
age. I examined this with a curiosity
which changed into longing. It was
wrapped in stiff brown paper and tied
with a string and contained some firm,
yet yielding substance. My mouth began
to water. What firm but yielding sub
stance would an intelligent workman be
apt to carry with him in the morning? I
say “intelligent workman” advisedly;
for that newspaper was a farrago of so
cialistic nonsense, such as intelligent
workmen favor. Why, his lunch, of
course, and, ob, I was so hungry!
I had ever considered myself an honest
man. and justly so, because, perhaps, my
stomach had never been tempted. 1 now
found that the conscience has no influence
below the heart. I was utterly incapable of
resisting the temptation to appropriate
thisestray. Imagination whispered bread
and butter, at least and sandwiches,
very likely. Sandwitches! Oh. what
solid sustenance in the very name to a
man who had been living for days on
water and memory! What possible good
could come from turning them over to the
guard to be preserved by the company
until they became as dry as the desert
from which they were named? Desert,
indeed! they could make a full meal for
me. they i ould, and they should!
The train was slackening in its ap
proach to the station where I proposed to
alight. I tucked the parcel under my arm
and stood out in the aisle. I gazed down
into the narrow street, a thoroughfare in
spite of its limitations. Ah, what a ruth
less giant was traffic. How it pushed for
ward its ceaseless procession of horses
and vans and eager men, as if when the
goal of wealth was reached it were a place
of rest and not another starting point. I
noticed, too, at a lower corner, inclosed by
a high fence, a last, deep, excavation, dug
for the foundation of some towering edi
fice. Yet not a laborer was within its
area. Here and there were mighty piles
of materials and tools, scattered at hap
hazard, as if panic had commanded flight.
Abutting on its eastern bank stood a cu
rious relic of olden days, a low, gabled
cottage, a Rip Van Winkle, surrounded
by the strango siftns of a later civlli, a
tion.
Two men, acquaintances, stood in front
of me. My car caught a few of their com
ments regarding this deserted field of
labor.
“A strike, hey?” said one.
“Of course,’’ replied the other. “What
else can that old curmudgeon expect!
There was nearly a riot thero the other
day owing to the discovery of one of his
mean tricks. And now they say he’s in a
blue- funk about dynamite. 'They’ve
sent him all kiucs of threatening letters.”
We passed out into the station, but my
stomach cried halt to my steps. 1 waited
until the throng had gone on, and then I
entered an ante room, ltwvas vacant. I
sat 'down and opened the parcel. Alas
and alas! Every sensation, even my
hunger, coalesced into an enthralling ter
ror. 1 held in my hand a bomb, a dyna
mite bomb! There could be no doubt of
It. My intelligent workman had been
some crazy unarchist, so crazy as to have
forgotten the missile of his revenge for my
undoing.
What should I do, for I must do some
thing and quickly? It was a bomb, with a
clo- kwork attachment, and even as I
gasped, thcthlng began to tick 1 dared
not abandon It, though at the thought a
ghastly joke obtruded on my misery, that
then the road would surely be an elevated
MS, I must take it with me a dot, in,
panted by my breach of trust. Ah, If that
would to the only breach. I should bn so
happy! I must take it with me and find
New
Dress
Goods,
Challies,
New
Organdies,
New
Batiste,
The New
Vichys,
Pouring in
DAILY.
SILKS.
100 p!e es Plain Chinas, worth 500
Swivel Silks. Corenn Wash Silks,
well worth 75c OJb
Serge Silks, navy blue, black and
white stripes and ,lots and Black /|o,,
Habutaia, regular use quality xJC
Black and Colored Moire Francaise.
Satin Striped Black Lucerne, c A
regular prioe SBc 0./C
SHIRT WAISTS.
; Ladles’Waists, box pleated, back o “ ~
and front ruffled, new patterns. uOv
: New designs, Pink, Heliotrope and cA ~
Blue Waists OUC
White and Figured Lawn Waists,
Navy Blue Sateen and Peicale SK-
Waists / OC
: 100 dozen perfect fitting White Cou- on.,
tel Corsets, usual price 50c, at OJC
: Infants' Mull Caps, 6 different dE
styles, regular3lo, your choice
; Embroidered Silk Infants’ Caps, ” n
worth 69c. at OcfC
BOYS’
CLOTHING.
Extra strong, well made School
Suits, double breasted, 4 to 14
years, good value at *3, Adler's 95
Knockabout Suits, stripes and
plaids, well made and elegant 25
styles, 4to 13 years, regular $2. I -P A•
All-wool Cheviot, double breasted,
guaranteed to wear splendidly,
seams "unripable, "4tolbyears, 50
well worth $4.50 •4’ •m—
--50 dozen Navy Blue Yacht Caps, rtEe'
worth half a dollar, at
a policeman or a police station and de
liver it up. and myself with it. 1 must
tell my tale, replete with credulity, and
submit myself to punishment, at least a
blowing up for my folly; yet, what could
it matter, if that other impending terrific
blowing up might be averted!
1 nastily enwrapped my portentous
burden, fervently resolving for the future
to conduct my affairs on a ready money
basis and have nothing whatsoever to do
with tick. I descended into the street.
What a headlong, heedless throng—head
long in pursuit of riches, heedless that
death might be stalking in its midst! I
threaded my way gingerly along the
curb, when suddenly there was increas
ing bustle, springing, indeed, into uproar,
a halt of the endless vehicles, a surging
back of that ceaseless, onward pross,
the clatter of heavy hoofs, the cries of
excited men, the clash of lire engines,
and from a building a block away broke
smoke and shot flame!
I was wild with terror as I felt m.vseif
enclosed in the arms of that mighty
crowd. I ducked, I wriggled, I slunk ; by
rare good luck I managed to reach the
high board fence surrounding the excava
tion; by rare good luck 1 chanced upon a
wicket—it was ajar. I slipped through
and fastened it on the other side; I
dashed well out into thecentcr, and stop
ped short and considered.
At least I was alone—at least if that
awful punishment should come, it would
not involve tne innocent. Indeed, I
thought grimly, even good would result,
s;n.;e the abandoned work of excavating
would thus be completed. Immiuent dan
ger, when long continued, works its own
recompense. Hope and fear are often cor
rollaries, and when one becomes hopeless
then, too, does one become culm. Pres
ently I was pervaded, without any sum
mons on my part, by a coolness that was
actually agreeable. Almost instinctively
I unwrapped the infernal machine; al
most automatically did I insert inv knife
blade through a crevice and stop the
ticking works.
Then I sighed so ardently that I nearly
dropped the contrivance, and an enthrali
ing tremor assured me that my fortitude
was spent. Even if I knew where to seek
a police station, how could 1, in such a
nervous condition, gain it without a slight
jolt or misstep, which would mean de
struction; The wind, which was brisk,
obviated all necessity of reflection on this
problem, for it caught the paper wrapper
from my grasp and hurled it over the
fence and faraway. Aud there 1 was, in
the center of a fierce labor agitation, with
a deadly bomb naked in my hand l Surely,
if any one was ever caught in the act, i
would-be. beyond the possibility of expla
nation should 1 now bo caught!,
i looked arouul mo with desperate
glance, i was alone. There seemed to
be no one looking , but yet—did not a , ur
tuin in the second-story window of the
quaint old cottage move? Bah, it was
but the wind ; there was no one there. I
must hide the ma< hine, and then mate
good my sca;c t'u o away, who would
suspect an artist, of all men. of participa
tion in a fiendish plot! But dare I, with
out first rendering it harmless? Was I
not responsible for Its pr sence, amt If
blood through It wore ahed. would not
that blood cry out against me?
Again I looked around; piteously, I'm
sure. And then- acaiust the bank which
LEOPOLD ADLER,
Successor to A. R. ALTIVff AYER & CO. *
The New York Herald, 's a Y 7 s ;
“Nearly half a million dollars’ worth
of Silks were sold by Auctioneers Town
send & Montaut, to-day at their sales
rooms, 87 and 89 Leonard street, New
York.
■‘The goods were owned by Schwarzenbach.Hnber g Cos.,
and were the output of t heir mills lu Altoona, Pa., Switzer
land, Italy, France and Germany.”
KID GLOVES, ETC,
“The REX,” a 4-button Glace
Kill usually sold at #I.PO; new OCr*
spring shades; to morrow
Pair.
And “The BPICHTON,”
Real Kid. 4-button, new spring d’-j (jq
shades; regular $2.26 glove
Ladies Black Lisle Hose. Riche
lieu ribbed, fast color, and a 600 •> n..
stocking, to boot ililw
_ Pair.
Fancy Dull I.tsle and Lisle Thread
Hose. Richelieu ribbed, extra
long diamond black boot, regu —n
lar 750 pair O ' * C
just k few wans, T z™rz
very often far ahead —always on the watch to serve
our patrons and the public—has fully proven by past
successful ventures—viz.: Englehart, the Artist, the
Walker sale, Prof. Meyers, and the Harris Kid Glove
pale—that we stop nt nothing legitimate to give our
customers, at all times, a greater equivalent tor their
money than anybody else.
Therefore, we earnestly beg our friends and the
public once more to watch the Big store, watch our
announcements, watch our windows, watch for one
of the greatest events in the history of the Big Store.
LACES and
EMBROIDERIES.
Black Chenille Dotted Veilings, qq.,
usual 60e a yard, to morrow OJV.
Black. White and Cream Net, Top
Laces; all new arrivals: some lu
this special lot worth 50c .OW
New Colored and White Swies.
Nainsook and Cambric Edgings 4 D
and Inscrtings HR-
Some 5 inches wide and selecte 4 A,,
designs HR.
supported the little cottago I saw a great
tank filled with water, intended, doubt
less. for the use of masons, but as yet un
sullied. I hastened to it. I untied the
tape that bound my poor pen and-ink
sketches together, and fastened it to the
bomb and lowered it gently—oh, so very
gently—to the bottom of the cask. Again
I sighed in thankfulness as 1 stood there
with the line in my hand, like one seek
ing his luck—alas, that sigh was changed
intn a gasp—that luck was found in all
its horriblo proportions! There were
horrible steps behind me, a heavy hand
was laid on my shoulder! I turned and
confronted a policeman, and, oh, such a
big one! He seemed to HU the lot and to
look over thesurrounding buildings—alas!
he had not overlooked poor me !
Aud this big policeman, with many ono
matopoetic additions, called me a “blath
ering anchorite,” meaning thereby, I pre
sume, an “anarchist.” and asiccd mo
whether I couldn’t knock off work with
out knocking down houses, and bade me
“kem along wid yez,” all the while twist
ing his huge fist in mycfllar in a manner
most grievous to feel and to relate. I
tried explanation, but he might as well
have been a dozen facts as the highly un-
F leased cno ho was, ho was so stubborn.
was about to yield from pressure, when
a cracked, tremulous voice cried “Wait
a bit, officer!” and out from the side
door of the cottago and down a flight of
steps came an eager old man, tall, spare,
beDt, with a long white beard. It was
old Smithers, the father of my adored
Annabelle.
What was he doing there? Could it be
thathewasthe “curmudgeon” who had
driven the workmen awa.v through “mean
tricks?” What, indeed more likely? He
owned much real estate; he was always
building and buying and selling, certainly;
and he spoke as one having authority, anil
the officer seemed to admit his right.
“I’m sure the young man intended no
wrong,” ho began “Now, my good
friend, don’t you think that the ends of
justice would be subserved if you should
deliver him into my hands! Such a likely
young fellow! J could reason with him.
you know, and expose the folly of his
course. Come, come, Mr. Officer, take
this lor your pains; and don’t you think
that your duty culls you to that fire?’’
And old Smithers, o.d Smithers of all
men, actually slipped a bill into the offi
cer’s willing palm
“Wh.v. there is a fire, isn’t there?” cx
clui.ned this sturdy guardian or the peace,
"i must be off!” And off he went with
out once loosing back
Old Smithers turned to me with a man
ner stranglov obsequious. “Now, then,
young man, he said, "you see I’m not a
bad sort of a fellow. You would have
cot twenty years for this job, you would.
Don't you think its a shame for so many
men to conspire against one poor old
feeble man, who is only trying to do his
best with his slender means? 1/1 were
rich, I would willingly pay whatever the
men want, and more; but i haven't got
it; 1 can t afford it! Aud all those threats,
they drive me nearly mad. You really
ought to respect gray hair and imflrmity,
you kiiOvV. Come now, promise me that
you will tell your mates how mistaken
they have been, and what a good, gener
ous man 1 am Come now, promise me,
and shake hands n It, and you may go.
“What!" he screamed, as he uotTcd my
K ITCiTU ON THE WATCH,
AJ L JLALf, Mr. Adler was among
thelargest purchasers. The first lot to
arrive go on sale to-morrow morning.
Plain Chinas, Wash Silks, Moire Silks,
Black Habutais, Colored Armures, etc.,
at prices very seldom heard of—in
Savannah.
LADIES’ WRAPPERS.
Every Garment Full Length and Width.
Standard American Printed In
digo Wrappers, large sleeves,
s pat ate waist land, dark and (\ 0,,
light grounds tloC
Fine quality printed wrappers, "T Sir*
"Mother Hubbard" /DC
Edged with lace rufTlo* over shoul
ders. Watteau back great tdg
sleeves Lawn Wrapr rs and
t est qi altty Percale Wrappers, 4 2
worth si.so Jp
NEW TABLE
LINENS, Etc.
Towels, 20x40. Huok. with damask cy s n
borders and deep trlngo .ni
All-llnen Huck and Hemstitched OKc
Towels, 20x40, worth 400 ZOL
G2-lnoh Double Damask, White,
Unbleached and Turkey Red ft ()„
Table Linen, worth 75c t’JC
12-4 Undressed Marseilles Bed tD 4 *<,
Spreads, usual 12.25, at qll.w.z
hand anu scrutinized my appearance,
“you are not a workman at all. Y'ou
are an impostor 1 I’ll be even with you,
though! Let me seo—l know that faro!
Aha! I have it now, and you, my young
jackanapes! Y’ou’ro Paul Lcuior, tho
scoundrel who tried to steal my daughter,
and now out of revenge, you try to assas
sinate mo! Ob, a pretty story for tho
newspaper and for tne court! Now, sir, I
require you to swear upon your honor
regarding which I have heard you make
some ridicules boast—that you will hence
forward relinquish all designs against my
girl, and never again in any wise address
her.”
"I can't do that,” I murmured, as I
leaned, sick and faint, against the rail.
"I can’t be false to my love.”
“Then don’t let mo detain you, Mr.
Lenier,” said the old man, with much
politeness. “I’m sure you have many
matters requiring your attention. One
about to go into retirement for twenty
years must have.”
I turned away dejectedly when a sweet,
clear voice, whose tones have ever been
the harbinger of my .joy, cried: “Wait a
moment, dear Paul, there is something I
would say,” and down tho steps came my
Annabelle, my darling!
But what a determined, even fierce
looking little creature she was, to be
sure! Her gentle eyes burned intensely,
and her lips, the softest messengers of
love, were compressed and set. She held
in her hand, above her head, as if for a
cast, a shining globular object, and i no
ticed that old Smithers, when he per
ceived it, shrank within himself and grew
livid.
“1 found this against your front door,
Mr. Smithers,” she said. “A token of
the respect of your employes, doubtless
“But. my dear child, my good little
daughter,” remonstrated the old man.
“Don’t you think, to avoid the possibility
of accident, you had better place It gently
In this water? Then I will hear you pa
tiently, as 1 alwu.vs have.”
“1 will drop it,” replied the girl,
abruptly, “unless you both come into the
house,” and she tossed the missle in the
air and caught it with a manner fearfully
indifferent.
Sho motioned, as we passed intothecot
tage and thence into the front room. She
followed, and stoo l by tho door, u lovely
Atna on, armed with the weapon of de
struction.
‘‘Oh, for shame!” sho cried, flourishing
tho bomb before tho face of her affrighted
sire, “to first have this poor young man
nearly beaten to death, and then to
threaten him with imprisonment! I’ve a
great mind to drop it anyway!”
Don’t daughter,” implored old Smithers.
“I acted for the best. My life is value
less. i admit; but think of your own aud
that of your future husband —”
“He's your father, you know, Anna
belle,” I ventured.
“Stepfather!" she exclaimed, “and a
long step, too; all the distance from rev
erence to contempt. He killed my poor
mother through bis briflality, and it's
with the money she left me that be has
gained his wealth. Oh!” And again her
arm threatened from on high, aud again
old Smithers cowered within himself.
“Pveonly held It In trust, my dear,” ho
moned, "only in Barred trust. You shall
have It a', once if you'll only be g ood *’
"Clive it to mo,’ said Auuabeiu*- "Your
PAGES 9 TO 16.
New
Drapery Silks,
New
Stamped
Linens,
Tray Cloths,
Spiashasrs,
New
Jewelry,
Arriving
DAILY.
Black Dress Silks, Peau de
Soie, Royal Armure, S.tin
Duchesse.Croograin, Paflle
Francaise, Surahs, Diagonal
Stripe, Changeable Novel
ties, Bergilmes, Imperial
Crystals, worth up to $2 a
yard,
93c Yard.
DOMESTICS.
These Are V/orMi 15c a Yard.
590 pieces New Drapery SwH. bfg j/
coin Kpt t and t rossbar (losignn. i/2 C
SPECIAL
-10) pieces of Percale Shirtings, ft ,
worth 7c Tt
5,000 Calico Remnants worth Bije a fr ,
yard, 1 to 8 yard lengths
Those will be made very short ends of by
12 o'clock to morrow morning.
IREN’S
FURNISHINGS.
Don't Pay $1.25 for the Same Quality
Fancy Negligee Shirts that Adler OQ/,
sells you for Oot
Attached Collars and Cull..
And these Madras Negligee Shirts
with 2 collars and a pair of
cuffs, cost you $1.75 to *2 any- 25
where else; our price qil.-w.
'TIs a Fixed Feature of Fashion.
Fnncy Negligee Shirts to be worn
this season with white collars.
We have one made for the pur
pose. In pink, blue and laven- (£-4 25
der, Fine Percale, at JpA.™ _
papers are hero.”
Then followed a long and tedious ao*
counting, which ended in old Smithers
surrendering documents which could
easily Incriminate him, and giving over a
check to his stepchild, with many quak
ings and groans, in full settlement of her
fortune. With mnny quakings and
groans; yet I detected in the old rascal’s
greedy eyes a twinkle of satisfaction.
And, indeed, of the many sharp transac
tions which had dishonored his career,
none, I’in sure, had ever proved half so
impudently successful.
“And now,” began Annabelle, after sho
had stored away the precious writings in
that secret crypt—her pocket—‘‘and
now—” and then she hesitated, aud her
face grow crimson.
‘‘Aud now,” I added promptly, “wo
must trouble you, Mr. Smithers, to ac
company us to tho mayor s office, ’tis only
a block away, where I know you will
gladly give your ‘dear child’ in marriage
to her ‘future husband.’ ”
"But you won’t take that bomb with
you, Annabelle,” be pleaded. “For fear
of acciduut, you kDow. You might fall,
dearie.*’
“1 won’t fall,” she retorted; “I could
walk on air I will take it with me for
fear of accident.”
And so we were married, my sweet ten
der, fierce, little girl, and I. her unworthy
devotee. And all the while she kept
clasped in her left hand, hid by her hand
kerchief, tho dread talisman of our bliss.
And 1 scarce could keep from laughing
when the idlers thronged the room, as I
thought what a scattering there would be
if our knowledge were theirs.
“And now,” said Annabelle, after it
was all over, and old Smithers had scut
tled away, in dread, doubtless, lest his
muttered maledictions might provoke that
cast; "and now—”
"And now,” I replied promptly, “we’li
dine. I’m ravenously hungry.”
But while the carriage was hurrying us
to our destination, despite my felicity, I
was not wholly happy There was still a
slight uncertainty. A broken wheel, a
heavy jolt. even, and then—
"l do wish to get rid of it,” I sighed.
“That’s easily done,” said Annabelle,
and sbo tossed the Infernal machine out
of tn window.
Great heavens! how scared I was for
an instant, aud then how relieved. There
was no crash, no oxplosion; nothing but
tinkle of broken glass.
“It was an old mustard Jar, darling,”
murmured Annalellc. “You didn't
really believe I was so horned?”
And thcnjwo embraced.
Headache,
Indigestion, Blillousness,
Dyspepsia,
And all Stomach Tro übles are cured by
P. P. P.
[Prickly Asb. Poke Root had Potassium.]
Rheumatism Pi cured by P. P. P. Pains
and aches In the Pact. shoulders, knees,
ankles unci wrists are all attacked and con
quered by P. 1* I’. ’lbis great medicine, by
Its cloud-cleansing properties, builds up and
strengthens the whole oody.
Nothing is so efficacious as P. P. P. at this
season, and for toning up, invigorating, and
a- a etreuglhcner and appetizer lake P. P. P.
It throws on tho malaria and puts you In good
condition.
Abbot's Kast Indian l orn Paint corns nil
Corns, Warts anu bunions, ad