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• UNivtKiui u. ~ ‘•f - . ** flllje svfi’orqta [jfl'eittjjeraKcr §^wmbe4 JOHN 11. SEALS, NEW SERIES, VOLUME 111. OTHE EORIAO TEMPERANCE CRUSAKEU. Published every Thursday in the year, except two lEH.uk: Two HnllurN per year, in advance. JOHN 11. SEALS, Solb IVti'riMF.rOn. I.ION El. 1,. \ K.VZKV, Mm run Litskaut Dbim KrvtKvr. lIIIS M. K. BUY AN. Kuirßiw. JOHN” A. J!KVNoIJs ) I’lbi.ishkk. CSSUjcu'Aj Clubs of Te Names, by sending the Cash, will receive the paper at .... $J 50 r (^eoj>y. Clubs of Five Names, at 180 “ Any person sending us Five new subscribers, inclo sing the money, shall receive an extra copy one year f rce of cost. ADVERTISING DIRECTORY: Kates of Advertising: 1 square, (twelve lines or les*,) first insertion, &1 00 “ Each continuance, 50 Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, - r > ,)<J Announcing Candidates for Office, 3 0® Standing Advertisements: Advertisements not marked with the number of rinsertiona, will be continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. Druggists and others, may contract for advertising by the year on reasonable terms. Legal Advertisements: Sale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Ex ecutora and Guardians, per square, 5 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Ex ecutora and Guavdians, per square, 3 25 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25 Notice fur Leave to Sell, - ®9 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 <o Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n, 500 Citation for Letters ol Dismission front Guard p, 325 Legal Requirements: Sales of Land and Negroes by Administrators, Exec utors or Guardians, are required, by law, to be held on the First Tuesday in the month, between the hours el ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court-house door of the county in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a pub lic Gazette, forty dai/s previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least ten days previous to the day ol sale. Notices to Debtors and Creditors of an estate, must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court oi Ordinary, for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be pub lished weekly for two months. Citations for Letters of Administration, must be pub lished thirty days —for Dismission from Administration monthly, six months— for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be published monthly, for four months— lor compelling titles from Ex ecutors or Administrators, where a bond has been issued by the deceased, the full space of three months. Publications will always be continued according to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise or dered. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmkmmmmmmmmmmmmammmmmmcKimmmaammm t—— Q//te Q&tmncy 4- CfJtiectciy, KING A LiEWIS, Attorneys at Lean, Gueexes boro, Ga. The undersigned, having associated themselves together in the practice of law, will attend to all business intrusted (o their care, with that prompt ness and efficiency which long experience, united with industry, can secure. Offices at Grecuesboro and live miles west of White Plains, Greene county, Ga. T. P. KING. July 1, 1858. 31. W. LEWIS. WHIT G. JOHNSON, Attoi •ney at Law, j Augusta, Ga. will prompjlf attend toall business intrusted to his professional management in’ Richmond and the adjoining counties. Office on Mclntosh street, three doors below Constitutionalist office. Reference —Thos. R. R. Cobb, Athens, Ga. June 14 ly DOGER L. WHIGIIAIVI, L< julsville, ,Jcf- JhY forson county, Georgia, will give prompt attention to any business intrusted to his care, in t he following counties : Jefferson, Burke, Richmond, Columbia, \V ar ren, Washington, Emanuel, Montgomery, Tatnall and Scriven. April 20, 1850 if T EONARD T. DOYAL, Attorney at Law, J-J McDonough, Henry county, Ga. will practice Law in the following counties: Henry, Spaulding, Hutl ß. Newton, Fayette, Fulton, Dekalb, Pike and Monroe. Feb 2-4 DII. SANDERS, Attorney at Law, Albany, • Ga. will practise in the counties of Dougherty, Sumter, Lee, Randolph, Calhoun, Early, Baker, Deca tur and Worth. Jan 1 ly HT. PERKINS, Attorney at Law, Greencs • boro, Ga. will practice in the counties of Greene, Morgan, Putnam, Oglethorpe, Taliaferro, Hancock, Wilkes and Warren. Feb ly DIIIEEIP IT ROBINSON, Attorney at -17 Law, Greeneeboro, Ga. will practice in the conn ties of Green© Morgan, Putnam, Oglethorpe, Taliafer ro, Hancock. Wilkes and Warren. July 5, ’5(,-lv JAMES BROWN, Attorney at Law, Fancy Hill, Murray Cos. Ga. April 30, 1857. SIBLEY, BOGGS & CO —WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN— Choice Family Groceries, Cigars, &c. 275 Broad Sired, Augusta, Georgia. Feb 18,1858 ~ “saTi?® Warehouse & Commission Merchant, AUGUSTA, CSA. fAQNT INUMS t-lie business in all its . m e> branches, in his large and commodi ous Fire-Proof Warehouse, on Jackson street. near the Globe Hotel. Orders for Goods, &.c. promptly and carefully filled. The usual cash facilities afforded customers. July 22 lim® muKia a Eiasastr# Warehouse & Commission Merchants] AUGUSTA, GA. V— TT AVING entered into :i co-part- S O -FJ-ship for the purpose of carrying on the Storage and Commission Business in all of its branches, respectfully solicit con signmeuts nf Cotton and other produce; also orders for Bagauig, Rope and family supplies. Their strict, per sonal attention will be given to the business. All the facilities due from factors to patrons shall be granted with a liberal hand. . 8 ISAAC T. HEARD, WM. C. DERRY. Fitly 22d, ISSB. maas&iui wsm WILL continue the W A REHOUSE and COM MISSION BUSINESS at their old stand on Jackson street. Will devote their personal attention to the Storage and sale of Cotton, Bacon, Grain, &c. Liberal cash advances Blade when required ; and all orders for Family Supplies, Bagging, Rope, &c. filled at the lowest market price. JOHN C. REES. [Aug 12] SAM L P. LINTON. -mum, -JENNINGS & CO. GROCERS AND COTTON FACTORS, Opposite the Globe Hotel, Augusta, Georgia. CONTINUE, as heretofore, in connection with their Grocery Business, to attend to the sale of COTTON and other produce. They will be prepared in the Brick Fireproof Ware house, now in process of erection in the front of their •store, at the intersection of Jackson and Reynold streets, H o receive on storage all consignments made them. Liberal cash advances made on Produce in store, •when requested-. ANTOINE POULLAIN, I , THOMAS J. JENNINGS, c Aug 19 —6m ISAIAH PURSE. WAREHOUSE AND COMMISSION MERCHANT, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA. THE undersigned, thankful for the liberal pa- 1 tronaga extended to him for a series of years, would inform his friends and the public that he will continue at hi® aame well known Brick Warehouse on Campbell street, near Boues, Brown &. Co’s. Hardware House, where, by strict personal attention to alt business en trusted to his care, he hopes he will receive a share of ihe public patronage. Cash Advances, Bagging, Rope and Family Supplies, will be forwarded to customers as heretofore, when de sired. [Augusta, Ga. Aug J9-6m VI/’ANTED by a young lady, a graduate oi ” a Southern College, a situation as TEACHER in a Primary and Preparatory School, or to tcsch Hair Braiding, Oil, Pastille and Grecian Painting, dec. Re ferences given it desired. Address L. G. H., White Plains, Greene county, Ga. [Aug —l* A Classical Teacher Wanted ’ > take charge of PI NE GROVE ACADEMY, -A- near Double Wells, Warren county. Apply to either of the-undersigned. WILLIAM B. BARKSDAI.F*. MANN AM JONES, EDWIN BAKER, JOHN 11. HUBERT, JOHN HEATH. Aug 2i) M. H. HUBERT. riTDIR Y'T /agesl AE.S. MORGAN (L McGßEfrOb, -A J Surgeon and Mechanical Dentists, UJ.-HTXTPeI)tirId, Ga. would inform the citizens of Greene and adjoining counties, that they arc prepnred to perform anv operation pertaining to their profession, with neatness and despatch. They will insert from one to an entire set of teeth, which,’ for beauty, durability, comfort and masticating, will compare with any either iu this country 1 or m Eu rope. It is their intention to please, and where perfect satisfaction is not. given, they will make no charge. Any call from the country that may be tendered them will nicer with their prompt attention. W. MORGAAi, L. W. McGREGOR. Tliev refer to Dr. John B. Murphcy, of Rome, Ga. Dr. C. B. Lombard, Athens, Sept 2, 1858. BROOM & NORRELL, AUGUSTA. OEOHGTA, j ARE now purchasing one of the largest and most, elegant stocks of Full and Winter I) II Y (i 0 0 D S that will be brought to this market this season, which will be bought under circumstances that will guarantee the purchase upon the very best terms, and will tlieie fore enable us to sell them at such Unprecedentedly Low Prices that they cannot be undersold, and will DEFY ALE COMPETITION. fIUAUTY. STILE AM) I'll ICF„ And as our rule of business :s, AXV NO CBWE3 M m DEVIATION, no one will pay over market price, as the rule forces the seller to ash the lowest marled price, and protects the buyer. Therefore, If you wish goods at low prices, Go to BROOME & NORRELL’S. If you like fair and open dealing, Goto BROOME & NORRELL’S. If you dislike a dozen prices for the same article, and prefer “ one price,” Goto BROOME&NORRELL’S. If you don’t like to be 11 bailed” one article, and pay doubly on another, Go to BROOM E & NOR R ELL’S. In fact, if you wish to buy cheap goods, get good value for vour money, and trade where you like to deal, and be pleased to see your friends, Go to BR(XOLE & NORRELL’S ONE PRICE STORE! August 2, 1858 “SELLING .OFF AT CO A ! The subscriber, with a view to closing his busi ness, is now offering his entire stock of mer chandise at cost. Anyone in want of a bargain, ci ther in Dry Goods, Diess Goods, Ready-made Cloth ing, Hats, Caps, Boots, Shoes, Drugs, Medicines,Crock ery, Hollow and Willow Wares, He., &c., will do well • o call and examine mv Stock, before purchasing. PcnGeld. Aug. 5 WM. B. SEALS. BY the subscriber, on Saturday last, [l4th insl.] between Shiloh and Bairdslown, a yellow steel-rimmed Pocket Book of ordinary size, containing S3lt anil a few cents. Any information respecting it wifi l>c thankfully received, and the finder liberally rewarded. Aug l’J if JOHN R. YOUNG. Til E firm of COE A LATIMER is this day dis solved by mutual consent. H. A. COE, Grecnesboro, May Ist, 1858 J. S. LA'l I.VIER. The practice w ill be continued by who will visit Oxford, Penfield, White Plains, Mount Zion, Warrcnton, Elberton, Danielsville Fort Lamar, ol which due notice will lie given intlie Crusader and Gazette. Permanent office in J. CUNNINGHAAFS BLOCK. C, R E E N E S B O R O. May 13, 1858 tjanl THE ('OLD WATER WAV. (A Ballad,by John G. Saxe.) It was an honest fisherman— L knew him passing well, Ami ho lived by a little pond Within a little dell. A grave and quiet man was he, Who loved his hook and rod ; So oven ran his line of life, His neighbors thought it odd. For science and lor books he said He never had a wish; Xo school to him was worth a iig, Except a school of fish. He ne’er aspired to rank or wealth. Nor cared about a name ; • For though"much famed for fish was he, He never fished for fame. Let others bend their necks at sight Os Fashion’s gilded wheels. He ne’er had learned to “bob” For anything but eels. A cunning fisherman was he, His angles all were right; The smallest nibble at his bait Was sure to prove bite !” All day ttiis fisherman would sit Upon an ancient log, And gaze into the water, like A sedentary frog, With all the seeming innocence, And that unconscious look, That other people often wear When they intend to “hook.” To charm the fish he never spoke, Although his voice was fine ; He found the most convenient way was just to drop a line. And many a gudgeon of the pond, If they could speak to-day, Would own, with grief, this angler had A mighty taking way. Alas! ono day this fisherman Had taken too much grog; And being but a landsman, too, lip couldn’t keep the log. ’Twas all in vain, with might and main, He strove to reacli the shore; Down—dpwn ho went to feed the fish He’d baited oft before. The jury gave their verdict that Twas nothing else but gin Had caused the fisherman to be So badly taken in. Though one stood ouLupon a whim, And said the angler’s slaughter, ‘To be exact about the fact, Was elqarly gin and water. The moral of this mournful tale To all is plain and clear: That drinking habits bring a man Tco often to his bier. And lie who scorns to “take the pledge,” And keep the promise fa9t. May be. in spite of fate, a stiff • Cold Water Man at last. 0 THE adopted organ of all the temperance organizations in the state. PENFIELD, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10. 185 B . DrntfSs ; y\ imMEETt-jy BY MBS. M. E. BRYAN. THE FATAL RING. SV MALY E. BRYAN. J. UIT7ITUER away, fair sister?” and Amiand j W tossed his half-finished cigar into the grate and arrested the flitting vision of crepe and lace, j by catching the daintily gloved hand in his. “ To see the Lady Alice Langley,” said Theodora -—“our sister that is to be—Gerald’s betrothed. He has told you of it, has he not?” “Not a syllable. Gerald is net wont to be com municative, and I cannot wonder at* his negli gence, when even my favorite sister was so occu pied with her balls and her beaux, that she came very near forgetting the poor soldier, fighting for the honor of his country beneath broiling skies, and eating dog beef at Lucknow.” “ Fie 1” said the lady, putting her little hand on his mouth. “I told you, sir, you must not talk of such horrid things. I protest I have not had the least appetite since you came back, though, of course,*l don't believe the half of your fine stories. But about Lady Alice: Surely you have heard the name. The London papers men tioned it often enough, I should think. .She was the star of the season for two winters past, and set the Iteo.", mdmk wild with her magnificent eyes. She is Sir Philip Langley’s grand ncice, and her history has quite a dash of romance in it, Her father was an odd, half crazed creature, who lived the life of a hermit in a dreary, old, castle-like mansion half a hundred leagues from London, in some shire or other—l can’t recall the name. Well; ho had not lived happily with his wife, and they were divorced when she died, and the strange old lord determined that Alice should never know the evils of matrimony. So, he made a perfect nun of her, shutting her up in that con vent of a castle, and making her read queer books and study strange sciences, with no companion ship except that of an old Gypsey nurse, who had lived in the castle ever since Alice’s birth, and who, from all I can learn, was a woman of great strength of will, and made good use of her power over the child. And so she lived in perfect seclu sion until she had reached her twentieth year, when the misanthrope lord died, and left his only daughter to his uncle’s guardianship. Sir Fhilip unbarred the cage of the long prisoned bird, and set her free among all the pleasures of London life. What a delightfully naive creature she was, and how refreshing was her charming ignorance of the world’s ways and vices! Os course, such a ram avis was admired. Sir Philip offered her hand to Gerald, who was not at all reluctant to accept it, and so they are for mally betrothed. I assure you our quiet brother is really enthusiastic about her charming fresh ness of feeling and simplicity of heart: ami be sides, you know he is a little romantic, and al ways said that he must have the first love of the woman he married, and now he has his wish - for—” “ Best stop now, Then,” interposed her brother, “for your story is growing bibulous. Nineteen years of age, and never fallen in love! The tale is past all credence. Vardonnc but I know your sex too well to imagine that any damsel could reach an age which you maidens fancy so mature, without having made the acquaintance of Cupid. If the old ogre that so jealously guar ded the prison of your charming paragon had suffered no other masculine to enter its precincts, she would indubitably have had a sentimental love affair with the gardener, the gardener’s son or the butler—eh, Theo?” “You are just as absurd as ever, Amiand. Your epaulets have not improved your habits in the least. The idea of a girl of refined feelings, like Alice Langley, falling in love with a fat but ler or a dirty gardoner! and I am sure she had seen no one else —unless—unless—” “Well go on ; why do you hesitate?” “Because lam afraid of your teasing laugh, that 1 very well remember; and after all, it is nothing, though I confess it troubled me a little. Well, I believe I will tell you: Somehow, Amiand, spite of your nonsense and your ridicule, you al ways manage to make me confide everything to you. It was so when we were children, you re member.” “Perfectly ; but go on with your story.” “It is not much, but you shall hear it; and first, you must know that the marriage of Lady Alice and our brother takes place the last of the present month. Alice is subject to tits of melan choly, which increase as her bridal draws nearer.” “Melancholy ? I thought you said she loved Gerald.” “Os course she does. Is she not affianced to j him, and could any one help loving Gerald? Though she is very quiet about it, as a lady of delicate feelings should be; but it is not this that occasions her melancholy. It was long before she would confess to me, that it was because of j the prediction of her Gypsey nurse, that the day of her bridal should be also the day of her death.” “ And why should she cave for the prediction of a silly old woman ? Os course the prejudice of the master influenced the nurse.” “ I told this to Alice, but it failed to remove the impression from her mind. I think that old nurse acquired most absolute control over Alice’s will. Sir Philip dismissed her immediately after bringing home his neico, but I have reason to think that she still finds means of communicating , with Alice. But 1 have mentioned this only as a preface to what I intended saying. Since I knew of this morbid melancholy ol Lady Alice, I have been with her a great deal, , and endeavored to draw her mind away from such gloomy thoughts. One evening last week, on knocking at the door of her boudoir and receiv ing no answer, I opened it and entered without ceremony. She was lying upon the faufeuil, her face buried in the cushions. She sprang quickly to her feet on becoming aware of my presence, and thrust something beneath the pillows so has tily that I could not discern what it was. She laughed and talked hysterically, and finally her restless movements disarranged the cushions, and a miniature case fell from beneath them to the floor. I picked it up before she had time to do so, and as the jar of falling had unfastened the spring, it lay open in my hand. As I live, Ar mand, it was the handsomest lace I ever looked upon, but so dark and fierce and sinister in its expression, that I felt repelled, rather than at tracted, by its basilisk beauty. 1 had opportunity only for a brief glance, for'Alice snatched it from my hand, and throwing it into an open draw, said that it was the son of her nurse, who had been killed iu Spain years ago—she could not tell how many. But she turned red and pale as she spoke, and talked on incoherently. I thought it singular at the time, but should hardly have re cSlled it aarain, had it not been for your remark. What do you think of it, father confessor?” 11 That it might be made the nucleus of a very pretty, though not a very original, romance in the hands of one of the numerous family of scribelri. And apropos of these caterers to morbid appetites, I strongly suspect that they arc the prime source of Lady Alice’s nnlancholy. Pray see il Messrs. Sue and Dumas are not at home <>n the. table of her boudoir, and advise her to introduce them to the acquaintance of the grate. Aon are not [tout ing, are yon “Yes: and I shall leave you this moment 1 will not stay to listen to your would-be brilliant remarks. You have missed a great deal, I can as sure you; for 1 shall not tell you a word of my own love affairs now. Good morning, sir, and if I am not btrek these three hours, you may thank yourself for it.” 11. A room redolent of rare perfumes, and soft with the mellow light streaming through curtains of rose-colored damask ; ornaments of silver, of ala baster and of marble; pictures flushing the walls with their rich tintings ; carpets of glowing roses strewn over a creamy ground : jasmines, helio trope, magnolias and tuberoses stifling together in crystal vasts; bridal gifts of chased silver, of pearl, of porcelain and of gold scattered around on tables and couches; and in the centre of all this luxury, a pale girl with a face of marvelous beauty and a sad, weary look in her dark eyes, out of place among the brilliant appurtenances of her chamber. It was the evening before the marriage, and this was Alice Langley, the envied Bride. Ah ! it was more than the girlish sentimentalism—to which Armand had ascribed it —that darkened her eyes with its shadow. Alice Langley had lived too long in the mouldy old castle of her father’s. She had dwelt too long beneath the baleful shadow of an evil influence, and bent to the strong will of one more loved than feared, and the memories of that time hung about her still, as the stain of mildew clings to the vine af ter it has been transplanted into the sunshine. The old nurse, Barbara, bad still a claim upon her—by the right of the strongest spirit—and it may be, too, that there were other memories con nected with her early girlhood; but of these, Lady Alice never spoke. There was a light tap at the closed door. It was only a servant bringing in some new addition to the bridal presents. They had been coming iiu all day, and the indifferent Alice scarcely looked up as her maid placed this among the rest —a sil ver waiter, with a bouquet of rare camellias upon it. She took it up mechanically, and as she did so, a slip of closely folded paper fell from the flowers, in which it hud been concealed. There was only a single line written upon it, but Alice read it slowly over again and again, with com pressed lips and rigid features: “ lh not 1 fonieL the Gypsrjfs waruiny.” Forget it! Was not every word of the predic tion soared upon her brain? Was it not an ever present curse ? Did she not hear it in her dreams, and did it not sound through all merriment and music? “ If you irjtli to another, you Break ere,you wed—- The tiiglu ol your bridal, you’ll dance with the dead.” ‘ ■She had suppressed that first line in her con fession to Theodora Lysle, but she repeated it slowly to herself, its taking the miniature from its hiding place, she looked long anti earnestly into the dark eyes, so like in their haughty fierce ness io those whose magnetic power had con trolled her past life, and bid lair to influence all her future. HI. And the marriage of Alice Langley, so long au ; engrossing topic, was over—the quiet ceremony ! at ,St. John’s Church —the stately dinner at the ! mansion of the bridegroom’s father, and now a bid masque in Sir Philip’s spacious salons to com plete the festivities of the day. There are lights and music, glitter and display, as usual, and the ! bride is the gayest of all. Such a flush as burns upon her check, and sucli a light, half reckless, but very brilliant, as Hashes in her splendid eyes. She flits about in her jewels ami her cloud-like lace, and has a smile and a light word for all. She dances, too, and the very music seems to keep time to the tread of her tiny feet. Has she quite forgotten the Gypsey’s warning, or does she seek to defy the shadow and stifle its haunting voice ? There is a tall, graceful masque, in the dress of an Armenian, that approaches her and solicits the honor of her hand for a waltz. It is granted, but with a reluctance which increases, when he takes her hand and the blaze of the .! chandelier falls upon a massive ring—the device i a serpent’s head—the flattened mouth perfect f iu representation, and the eyes of flashing ruby. She shrinks from his touch and would draw hack, but it is a firm clasp that holds her, and a voice j accustomed to be obeyed, whispers: “Would you betray yourself, Lady Alice? 1 thought your worldly experience had taught you more self-possession, if not more pride.” His arm is aroundher Waist, and the music bc- I gins. It is a Spanish waltz, at once lively and voluptuous. It is new to the dancers, but they move in perfect time, round and round, in bewil | dering evolutions, like garlands thrown into the wlurling eddy of a stream. “We will stop, iT you please,” murmurs. Lady | Alice. “1 am dizzy with the motion. lam sick, very sick,” she continued, as her partner evinces no intention of complying with her request. | “ Dizzy 1” exclaims the mask, with a low, sinis ter laugh. “The Lady Alice, heroine of two sea sons ol belledom, who has danced a hundred nights since her last bifth-day, plead dizziness at the outset of a waltz!” The seene is bewildering—the floating dancers, the long array of colored lamps, the garlanded walls, the aromatic fragrance, and above all, that passionate, bewitching music, with all the warmth of southern skies, and all the sweetness of south ern -tongues in its cadence. The eyes of the hi i c groom follow tlio bride admiringly. Whoever >e her masked partner, lie has all the stately gtace of it Spanish mtyllcro, and his liguve is superb. How he bench to listen to the words of his fan partner ! Ah! it h well Gerald bears them not. “Stop, in the name of mercy!” utters Alice, beseechingly. “I am in pain- Something—the point of a pin—is piercing my side, and L can bear it no longer 1 shall shriek aloud “It is nothing—a transparent subterfuge, my sweet partner — the point of a pin forsooth. Re collect yourself, Lady Alice. AU eyes are upon you. They will think your conduct excessively silly. See how adoringly the eyes of your bride groom follow your graceful movements. Ah, wliat a loving spouse! What a blessed and happy bride you are, Lady Alice, and how devoutly 1 rejoice in your prosperity! You shrink from me,” he continues, as she makes a faint oftbrt to release herself. “You were not wont, fair Alice, to evince such coldness to so old a friend. If my memory fails me not, it is not, of a surety, the first time that my arm enfolded this slender waist: but the moon changes, and hearts do the same, I suppose. What elegant bridal gifts you displayed to us to-night, Lady Alice ; but there was one you did not care to place among the rest. Ah well! I cannot wonder at it. It is the vv.iy of the sash ionable world. It was natural that the proud heiress and bride should de3pi.se tho gift of her humble nurse. But the flowers had x motto, had they not? What was it. Lady?” “Mercy!” whispers the suppressed voice of Alice, full of concentrated agony. “The pin—it is piercing deeper; my suffering is insupportable, and your arm is like a band of iron about me. J shall cry aloud for help.” But she is under the influence of a will stron ger than her own. “ Do so,” says the Armenian, with a bend of his graceful head. “Shriek aloud, if you wish; draw the attention of the company. Avery dig nified procedure it would be, for a lady so pro verbially proud; but scream, T beseech you; gather a crowd around you, and I will explain the cause of your emotion by the utterance of a few facts in my possession. Quite a little ro mance it would be, when embellished, and very pretty it would sound in the mouths of the Lon don gossip pers!” And his arm tightens around her waist ’til he carries her onward, By his own strength of mus cle, against her feeble volition. Round and round, yet faster they whirl, and tlm curls sweep over her face and conceal its agonized expres sion. “I am suffering,”she says, feebly. “Have pity on me.” “Pity!” replies the voice, hissed forth from between the set teeth. “ Yes. such pity as you have taught me, Lady Alice. Do you remember of wliat this night is anniversary? Have you forgotten the scene in the old vault, and the dead that slept around us, invoked to witness an oath sworn upon this ring? Ah, this ring! how its strange form puzzled you; how you pleaded to know its use, and how instinctively you hated the glitter of its blood-red eyes. But you never solved the mystery. All! Lady Alice, there are more things in Gypsey lore than are dreamed of in your philosophy.” The dance is nearly over. Novel’ have waltzers sustained themselves so well; but there is magic in the music. Now, however, they falter, and Gerald can - see that Lady Alice, is very pale, and that her drooping form is more than half suppor ted by her partner. As lie starts forward, her head sinks heavily upon the Armenian’s shoul der. “She has tainted,” says the mask,’calmly, to the frightened bridegroom. “ A little water will revive her, sir. 1 was fearful she would be fa tigued, but site insisted on remaining as long as the rest.” # But neither water, wine nor yet more powerful restoratives were of any avail. In vain tlie hor ror-struck guests gathered around her. A few shuddering spasms convulsed her frame, and the pulse ceased to beat forever. When life was ex tinct, spots of purplish Blackness appeared on cheek and brow, marring the purity of that beau tiful face, and an old physician who had been with the army in southern countries was heard to mutter, as he turned away, that had this singular death occurred in India, he would have sworn that it was caused by the poison of the cobra di capelli. The lamp burned dimly in the gloomy cell, but the solitary inmate eared not for this. lie sat with his brow bowed upon his hands, but he nei ther prayed nor slept. The ke/ turned gratingly in the door; it opened, closed again and a priest stood before t he convict. “My son,” called the holy man, gently. lie repeated the words before they seemed to reach the ear of’the prisoner. “ Who calls me?” lie asked at length, raising his head and glaring at the intruder with his fierce, dark eyc3. “Itis I; I have come for the last time to pray you to confess and receive absolution for yom sins. You have but a few hours to li\e. rime for you is dwindling to a span; for to-morrow your life pays the penalty ol your crimes. “And for this reason I am to be tormented with the prating cant of a dotard. Go, leave me old man ; your prayers and ceremonies can avail me nothing.” , , ... “My son,” said the priest, “our holy religion offers pardon to all who confess and are absolved. \t least, you will unburden your soul of its con cealed sins: kiss the cross and receive the holy sacrament.” “ Father,” said the prisoner, “my crimes are legion. More days than I may hope for hours of life would not suffice for their enumeration.” “ But only the one for which you are condemned bears the red stain of murder, my son. Is it not SO The prisoner laughed a low, sardonic sound, like the mirth ol ft demon. “ Holv father,” ho said. “ this hand has sent more souls to purgatory than your prayers and masses ever extricated from its torments.” The friar involuntarily recoiled a step. “Santa Mafia!'’ he ejaculated, aghast with horror; “and vet,” he added, after a pause, “even for such crimes our Holy Virgin has absolution.” But the prisoner neither heard nor heeded him. “It was of one ol these crimes—the most dark and damning of the long account—that T was thinking when your entrance disturbed me. If that were blotted from tho list —but I am a fool to think of it.” “ Go on, my son,” said the friar, encouragingly. “ Begin with the crime that weighs most heavily on your conscience. Our holy confessional “Tush!” said the convict, contemptuously. “ I told you that confession was useless. Did’st ever know the sweetness of revenge, old man ? “God forbid!” exclaimed the friar, crossing himself as he spoke. ’Tis a most heinous pas sion !” • “ Then my story is not ior you. Aou could not understand the malignant joy that mingles with tho memories of that crime. Dost sec this ling upon my finger? Is it not a curious and massive one ? Look at it well. It has done me good service in my lifetime.” I “It is admirably designed,” said the priest EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. VOL, XXIV, NUMBER 16 ■ Tlio eyes have a real, snako-like glitter in their rca light, and the mouth i.s perfect.” •‘And is not without its fang,” returned the convict, “See!” and pressing upon a hidden ■ W*B ltt lllc sideof the ring, a small, sharp blade j J! 1 linest steol > inch in length, leaped out, like a barbed tongue, from the mouth of the sr pent. ui ! ** J ”■ 100 asp, resumed the prisoner, holds not a more deadly poison than covers tlm tiny blade. Tl.o .lighten gnw „f it , lanMt . like jioint would cause immediate death. You are amazed, good father. Ah! we Gypsies ar® strange people, and know strange things. I think of bequeathing this ring to you, as you are my only friend, and I have no other way of proving my gratitude.” “Nay,” said the priest, drawing back and ey ing the gift suspiciously. “And why not? As I said, it is a very useful companion, and it tells no tales. Suppose, now, that there is a man who has once professed r®- gard for you, and who has done you a wrong for which you hate him with a hatred strong as death ; yet, you call him‘friend,’and speak and smil® when you meet him, as many in the world ar® wont to do. But still, your soul thirsts for ven geance, and your hand clenches involuntarily when you think of him. Well; you meet him some day in the public street; you smilingly ac cost him, slip your hand—the hand with the ring upon it—familiarly through his arm and walk on, chatting pleasantly of indifferent things. Sud denly you press upon the spring—as Ido now— and the poisoned blade darts out and pierces his arm. lie starts; but the pain was only momen tary—a slight pricking— nothing more—and he smiles and walks on again; but he is your victim. The poison will do its work quickly, and the thirst of your hatred will be satisfied.” “Wretch!” cried the friar. “llow dare you, whose hours are numbered, talk so coolly of trea chery and murder?” “ 1 dare everything,” was the rejoinder. “ But this is not all; you should not have interrupted me, good prr<\ ]am in the mood for talking to night, and a doomed man must be humored. fif# we will, it you please, suppose another case wher® my ring would be serviceable: Imagine yourself in a spacious saloon, holy father, where music and wine, beautiful women and flowers, fainting with their own excess of fragrance, combine to wear® a spell of enchantment. Fancy that in that vol uptuous dance—of which you anchorites know nothing—your arm is around the waist of a wo man more beautiful than you dare imagine; a bride adored by her young husband—rich and noble; a patrician both in birth and in beauty. But you have cause to curse that fair face for ever. The jeweled hand that rests upon your shoulder has poisoned your happiness for eter nity ; lias written the pages of your life history in blood, and the fiend in your heart whispers that revenge is in your power. Shall she, whoa® treachery made you a miserable outcast, lire and l>e happy? The ring is upon your hand, it# ser pent head turned inward, with its hidden fang. A slight touch of the thumb on the spring, and the keen blade pierces the silken boddice : a, gradual pressure, and it pierces deeper and deeper, until it dips in the red life blood, and taints it with its venom—and then—why your vengeance • is appeased, and you are secure from detection. You see how easy it is, father.” “Hardened monster 1” exclaimed the horrified priest. “ This passes the bounds of humanity. It is diabolical: it is—it is--” “ Past all forgiveness, father; but stay, I hat* not said that this was more thaii a fancy sketch, have I ? And what if you had loved the woman with an intensity that was akin ho madness! What if her falsehood had made you a villain and an outcast! What—” A sudden shudder, as of strong pain, passed over his frame, and his pale countenance grew yet more livid. “11 is well,” he muttered. “ The poison ha* not lost its strength.” An l then turning to th® priest, he said: “.lust now, when f was explaining to you the use of my ring, i suited tho action to the word. Sec!” and lie rolled back his sleeve to.the elbow, and pointing to a small, red mark, scarcely’ larger than tho wound of a pin, but which was encir cled by u ring of livid purple. “ Holy mother of Jesus!” cried the friar; 44 you are poisoned. The blade has pierced deeper than you intended.” “It was my purpose,” said the convict, regard ing the wound with a smile of ghastly triumph. “It will only cheat the gallows of its due, and disappoint the gaping mob that to-mofrow will crowd around the scaffold to feast their eyes upon the amusing spectacle. Fools! Did they’ think that they should gloat over my death throes? that my body should swing for their vulgar eyes to gaze upon? Xo; the swollen veins tighten and coil, like dying serpents, - around my heart; my sight fails: the cell swims around me. Take the ring, father, and tell them that I died as I lived—des pising man, defying devils and— ’ A spasm of intense agony convulsed his frathe as he spoke. It was succeeded by another, and then the features gradually relaxed, the head f®ll heavily back and the convict was dead. Thomasedlr. HOME AND WIFE ON SATURDAY. Happy is the man who has a little home and a little atigel in it, of a Saturday night. A hous®, no matter how little, provided it will hold two or S o—no matter how furnished, provided there i* hope in it ; let the wind blow— close the curtains! What if they are calico or plain, without bor der or titssel, or any such thing? Let the rain come down— heap up the fire. No matter if you have not a candle to bless yourself with, for what a beautiful light glowing coals make, reddening, clouding, shedding sunset radiance through th® little, room—just enough to talk by: not loud, as in the highways ; not rapid, as in the hurrying world—but softly, slo.vly, wliisperingly, with pauses between them, for the storm without, and the thoughts within, (o fill up. Then wheel the sofa round before the fire; no matter if the sofa is a settee, uncushioned at that; if so, may be it is just long enough for two, or say two and a-lialf, with two or two and a-lialf in it. How sweetly the music of silver bells, from time to time, falls on the listening ear thep. How mournfully swell the chimes of the “days that are no more.” Under such circumstanees, and such a time-, oue can get at least sixty-nine and a-half statute miles nearer “kingdom come,” than any other point in this world laid down in 44 Malte Bean!” May be you smile at this pioture; but there is a secret between us, viz: it is a copy of a pietuV* rudely drawn, but as true as the PentatetiSh of an original in every human heart,