Georgia Historic Newspapers

    8
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Journal, Atlanta. Ga.
When Lyman J. Gage Was Janitor In a
Bank.
(From "The Story of My Boyhood Days," by
Lyman J. Gage, tn ths Au<u»t “Success")
There was In our town a small bank, and this
Institution had always poroemed a fascination
for aty youthful mind. I used to watch the
merchants going In with bags of gold and bun
dles of greenbacks, and coming out again with
only account books in their hands. I knew that
the bank had some connection with the govern
ment. and. being greatly Impressed with Its
dignified appearance and the actions of Its of
ficers. I was seized with a desire to work within
Its walls. When I applied for a position. I
learned that there was no likelihood of a vacan
cy occurtng in the near future; so. when I was
offered a place in a local stationery shop at
a salary of a hundred dollars a year, I accept
ed with alacrity. The wage, were small. In
deed, but In this shop I was privileged to be
come acquainted with general literature, and
spent many hours with the great authors. 8o
the months with the stationer were not without
profit After a time there was a rival bank es
tablished in the town, and I was offered the po
sition of “m*w«enger and general assistant."
at the same old salary of a hundred dollars a
year. I didn't hesitate, but left the store to en
ter the bank, and so began my career in the
financial world. My duties aa "general assist
ant" were many and varied. I was janitor, first
of all. and attended to the heating of the
building. I made many trips every day to the
cellar for coal, and I use-1 to think the officials
moat extravagant when they Insisted on a fire
when the days were comparatively warm. I
was obliged t> keep the front sidewalk clear of
dirt In the summer and of rnow In the winter,
and had to sweep the fl-x>r of the banking room
dally, and dust the desks and furniture fre
qutnily.
♦ ♦III »4<4 11111 111 11 ♦»♦♦♦♦♦<■♦♦♦♦♦♦♦« I I «♦♦♦♦«"■
“ The Leonard’s Soots”
Continuation of Chapter XXIV.
When Uncle Josh sufficiently recovered
his senses to think, and saw the church
still stacking, with not even a whiff of
smoke to be seen, instead of the roaring
furnace he had expected, he was amazed.
He called hla scattered deacons together
and they went cautiously back to investi
gate. »
“Hit's no use in talkin' Bre’r Josh, dey
sho wuz er fire!” cried one of the dea
cons.
“Sho’s de Lawd’s in heaben, I feel it
gittln* on my fingers so I drap dat straw!"
said another.
“Hit smite me first right on top er my
bald!" whispered Uncle Josh in awe.
They cautiously approached the pulpit
and there In frt>nt of it lay the charred
fragments of the burned straw pile.
They drew back. Uncle Josh saw the im
mense power in that heap of charred
straw. Some of it was a little damp and
it had been only partly burned.
“Dar’s de mericle er de Sperit!” he
solemnly declared.
"Yas Lawd!” echoed a deacon.
“Fetch de hammer, en de saw. en de
nails, en de boards en build right dar en
altar ter de Sperit!'’ were his prophetic
commands.
And they did. They got an old show
case of glass, put the charred straw in it,
and built an open box work around it
just where it fell in front of the pulpit.
Then a revival broke out that complete
ly paralysed the industries of Campbell
county. Every negro stopped work and
went to that church. Uncle Josh didn’t
have to preach or to plead. They came in
troops toward the magic altar, whose
fame and mystery had thrilled every
superstitious soul with its power. The
benches were all moved out and the whole
church floor given up to mourners. Un
cle Josh had an easy time walking around
Just adding a few terrifying hints to trem
bling sinners, or helping to hold some
strung Bister when she had “come
through," with so much glory in her
bones that there was danger she would
hurt somebody.
After a week the matter became so se
rious that the white people set in motion
an Investigation of the affair. Dick had
thrown out a mysterious hint that he
knew some things that were very funny!
"Doan you tell nobody!" he would sol
emnly say to Charlie.
And then he would He down on the
grass and roll and laugh. At length by
dint of perseverance and a bribe of a
quarter, the preacher Induced Dick to
explain the mystery. He did, and it broke
up the meeting.
Uncle Josh's fury knew no bounds. He
was heartbroken at th*e sudden collapse
of his revival, chagrined at the recollec
tion of his own terror at the Are. and fear
ful of an avalanche of backsliders from
the meeting among those who had pro
fessed even with the greatest glory.
He demanded that, the preacher should
turn Dick over to him for correction. The
preacher took a few hours to consider
whether he should whip him himself or
turn him over to Uncle Josh. Dick heard
Uncle Josh’s demand. Out behind the
stable he and Charlie held a council of
war.
“You go see Miss Mar'get fur me en git
up close to her, en tell her taint right ter
'low no low down black nigger ter whip
me!"
"All right, Dick, I will," agreed Charlie.
"Case of ole Josh beats me I gwine ter
run away. I nebber git ober dat!"
Dick had threatened to run away often
before when he wanted to force Charlie to
do something for him. Once he had gone
a mile out of town with his clothes tied
in a bundle and Charlie trudging after
him begging him not to leave.
The boy did his best to save Dick the
humiliation of a whipping at the hands of
Uncle Josh, but In vain.
When Uncle Josh led him out to the
stable lot, his face was not pleasant to
look upon. There was a dangerous gleam
in Dick’s eye that boded no good to his
enemy.
"You imp er de dpbbil!" exclaimed Uncle
Josh, shaking his switch with unction.
"I fool you good enough, you ole bar
headed ape!" answered Dick gritting his
teeth defiantly.
"I make you sing enudder chune so I’se
done wid you!”
"En if you does, nigger, you know what
I gwine do fur you?” cried Dick rolling
his eyes up at his enemy,
"What kin you do, honey? asked Uncle
Josh, humoring his victim now with the
evident relish of a cat before his meal
on a mouse.
"Es you hits Ike hard, I gwine ter burn
your house down on ycur ha'.d some night
en run erway des es sho es I kin stick er
match to it,” said Dick.
“You is, is you?" thundered Josh with
wrath.
“Dat I la. En I burn yo ole chu'ch de
same night.”
Uncle Josh was silep.t a moment. Dick’s
words had chilled his heart. He was
afraid of him, but he was afraid to back
down from what was now evidently his
duty. Bo without farther words he whip
ped him. Yet to save his life he could not
hit him as’hard as he thought he de
served.
That night Dick disappeared from Ham
bright. and for weeks every evening at
dusk the wistful face of Charlie Gaston
could be seen on the big hill to the south
of town vainly watching for somebody.
He would always take something to eat
in his pockets, and when he gave up his
vigil he would place the food under a big
shelving rock where they had often play
ed together. But the birds and ground
squirrels ate it. He would slip back the
next day hoping to see Dick jump out of
the Cave and'surprise him.
And then at last he gave it up, sat down
under, the rock and cried. He knew Dick
would grow to be a man somewhere out
in the big world and never come back.
LOVE'S DREAM.
CHAPTER I.
BLUE EYES AND BLACK HAIR.
“She’s coming next month, Charlie,”
said Mrs. Durham, looking up from a let
ter.
"Who is It now. Auntie, another divin
ity with which you are going to over
whelm me?" asked Gaston smiling as he
laid his book down and leaned back in his
chair.
"Some one I've been telling you about
for the last month."
“Which one?"
"Oh, you wretch! You don’t think about
anything except your books. I’ve been
dinning that girl’s praises into your ears
for fully five weeks, and you look at me
In that innocent way and ask which one?"
"Honestly, Aunt Margaret, you’re al
ways telling me about some beautiful girl,
I get them mixed. And then when I see
them, they don’t come up to the advance
notices you’ve sent out. To tell you the
truth, you are such a beautiful woman,
and I’ve got so used to your standard,
the girls can’t measure up to it.”
“You flatterer. A woman of forty-two
a standard of beauty! Well, it’s sweet to
hear you say it, you handsome young
rascal.
“It’s the honest truth. You are one of
the women who never show the addition of
a year. You have spoiled my eyesight for
ordinary girls.”
“Hush, sir, you don't dare to talk to
any girl like you talk to me. They all
say you’re afraid of them.”
“Well, I am, in a sense. I've been dis
appointed so many times.”
“Oh! you'll find her yet and when you
do!'*—
“What do you think will happen?"
“I’m certain you will be the biggest
fool In the state.”
"That will make it nice for the girl,
won’t it?”
“Yes, I shall enjoy your antics. You
THE SEMI-WEEKLY JOURNAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, MONDAY, AUGUST 4, IVO2
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< *X. /ir *v ll s • VnJIl i *
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♦ “YOU IMP ER DE DEBBIL!” EXCLAIMED UNCLE JOSH. ♦
who have dissected love with your brutal
German philosophy, and found every girl's
faults with such ease—lt will be fun to
watch you flounder in the meshes at
last!”
“Auntie, seriously, it will be the happiest
day of my life. For four years my dreams
have been growing more and more Impos
sible. Who is this one?”
“She is the most beautiful girl I know,
and the brightest and the best, and if she
gets hold of you she will clip your wings
and bring you down to earth. I’ll watch
you with interest,” said Durham
looking over thb letter again and laugh
ing.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Just a little joke she gets off in this
letter.”
"But who is she? You haven't told me.”
“I did tell you—she’s General Worth’s
daughter, Miss Sallle. She writes she is
coming up to spend a month and wants
me to corral all the young men In the
community and have them fed and in fine
condition for work when they arrive.”
“She evidently intends to have a good
time.”
“Yes, and «he will.”
"Fortunately my law practice Is not
rushing me at this season. My total re
ceipts for June last year were two dollars
and twenty-five cents. It will hardly go
over two-fifty this year.”
“I’ve told her you’re a rising young
lawyer.”
"I have plenty of room to rise. Auntie.
If you will just keep on letting me board
with you, I hope to work my practice up
to ten dollars a month in the course of
time.”
“Don’t you want to hear something
about Miss Sallle?"
“Os course, I was just going to ask you
if she’s as homely as that last one you
girled to get off on me?”
“I’ve told you she’s a beauty. She made
a sensation at her finishing school in Bal
timore. It’s funny that she was there the
last year you were at the Johns Hopkins
university. She’s the belle of Independ
ence, rich, petted and the only child of
old General Worth, who thinks the sun
rises and sets in her pretty blue eyes."
"So/she has blue eyes?”
“Yes, blue eyes and black hair."
"What a funny combination! I never
saw a girl with blue eyes and black hair.”
“It’s often seen in the far south. I ex
pect you to be drowned in thoap blue eyes.
They are big, round and child-like, and
look out of their black lashes as though
surprised at their dark setting. This con
trast accents their dreamy beauty, and
her eyes seem to swim in a dim blue mist
like the point where the sea and the sky
meet on the horizon far out on the ocean.
She is bright, witty, romantic and full of
coquetry. She is determined to live her
girl’s life to its full limit. She is fond of
society and dances divinely.”
“That’s bad. I never even cut the pig
eon’s wing in my life—and I’m too old to
learn.”
“She has a full queenly figure, small
hands and feet, delicate wrists, a dimple
in one cheek only, and a mass of brown
black hair that curls when it’s going to
rain."
“That’s fine, we wouldn’t need a bar
ometer on life’s voyage, would we?"
“No but you will be looking for a pilot
and a harbor before you’ve known her a
month. Her upper lip is a little fuller and
projects slightly over the lower, and they
are both beautlfuly fluted and curved like
Lhe petals of a flower, which makes tho
most tantalising mouth a standing chal
lenge for a kiss."
“Oh! Auntie, you’re joking! You never
saw such a girl. You're breaking into my
heart, stealing glances at my ideal."
"All right, sir, wait and see for your
self. She has pretty shell-like ears, her
laughter is full, contagious, and like mu
sic. She plays divinely on the piano,
can’t sing a note, but dresses to kill. You
might as well wind up your affairs, and
get ready for the first serious work of
your life. You will have your hands full
after you see her."
“But did I understand you to say she's
rich?”
“Yes. they say her father is worth half
a million.”
“Do you think she could be interested
in the poor in this country?”
“Yes, she doesn’t seem to know she’s
an heiress. Her father, the general, is
a deacon in the Baptist church at Inde
pendence, and hates dudes and fops with
all his old-fashioned soul. His idea of a
man is one of character, and the capac
ity of achievement, not merely a possessor
of. money. Still, I imagine he is going to
give any man trouble who tries to take his
daughter away from him.”
“I’m afraid that money lets me out of
the race."
"Nothing of the sort, when you see her
you will never allow a little thing like
that to worry you.”
“It’s not her dollars that will worry
me. It’s the fact that she's got them and
I haven’t. But anyhow. Auntie, from your
description you can book me for one night
at least.”
“I'm going to book you for her lackey,
her slave, devoted to her every whim while
/
»♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦«l»♦«l I I>l♦♦♦♦H
!Bu REV. THOMAS DIXON, JR.
CoDurioht 1902
Erj Doubleday. Page & Co
she’s here. One night—the idea!"
“Auntie, you’re too generous to others.
I've no notion all this rigmarole about
*your Miss Sallle Worth Is true. But I’ll
do anything to please you.”
“Very well. I’ll see whom you are try
ing to please later.”
“I must go,” said Gaston, hastily rising.
I have an engagement to discuss the com
ing political campaign with the Hon. Al
lan McLeod, the present Republican boss
of the state.” ,
"I didn’t know you hobnobbed with the
enemy.”
“I don’t. But as far as I can understand
him, he purposes to take me up on an
exceeding high mountain and offer me the
world and the fullness thereof. We will
like to be tempted whether we fall or not.
The doctor hates McLeod. I think he
holds some grudge against him. What do
you think of him, Auntie? He swears by
you. I used to dislike him as a boy, but
he seems a prettjr decent sort of fellow
now, and I cap't liking just a little
anybody who loves you. I copfess he has
a fascination sos me:"
“Why do you ask my opinion of him?"
slowly asked Mrs ; . Durham.
“Because I’m not quite sure of his hon
esty. He talks fairly, but there’s some
thing about him that casts a doubt over
his fairest words. He says he has the
most important proposition of my life to
, place before me today, and I'm at a loss
of my life to place him—whether as a well
meaning friend or a scheming scoundrel.
He’s a puzzle to me.”
“Well, Charlie, I don’t mind telling you
that he is a puzzle to me. I’ve always
been strangely attracted to him, even
when he was a big red-headed brute of a
boy. The doctor always disliked him and
I thought, misjudged him. He has always
paid me the supremest deference, and of
late years the most subtle flattery. No
woman, who feels her life a failure, as I
do mine, can be indifferent to such a com
pliment from a man of trained mind and
masterful character. This is a sore sub
ject between the doctor and myself. And
when I see him shaking hands a little too
lingeringly with admiring sisters of his
services, I repay him with a chat with
my devoted McLeod. Don’t ask me. I like
h'im, and I don’t like him. I admire him
and at the same time I suspect and half
fear him."
“Strange we <eel so much alike about
him. B(it your heart has always been very
close to mine, since you slipped your arm
around me that night my mother died. I
know what he will say, and I know about
what I’ll do.” He stooped and kissed his
foster-mother tenderly.
“Charlie, I’m In earnest about my pretty
girl that’s coming. Don’t forget it."
“Bah! You’ve fooled me before."
'chapter 11.
THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER.
McLeod was waiting with some impa
tience in his room at the hotel.
“Walk in, Gaston, you’re a little late.
However, better late than never." Mc-
Leod plunged directly into the purpose of
his visit.
“Gaston you’re a man of brain, and ora
torical genius. I heard your speech In
the last Democratic convention in Raleigh,
and I don’t say it to flatter you, that was
the greatest speech made in any assembly
In this state since the war.”
“Thanks!” said Gaston with a wave of
his-arm.
“I mean it. You know too much to be
in sympathy with the old moss-backs who
are now running this state. For fourteen
years, the south has marched to the polls
and struck blindly at the Republican par
ty, and three times it struck to kill. The
southern people have nothing in common
with these northern Democrats who make
your platforms and nominate your candi
date. You don’t ask anything about the
platform or the man. You would ask no
questions: and what infuriates me is you
vote to enforce platforms that mean eco
nomic ruin to the south."
“Man shall not live by bread alone, Mc-
Leod.”
“Sure, but he can’t live on dead men’s
bones. You vote in solid mass on the ne
gro question, which you settled by the
power of the Anglo-Saxon insolence when
you destroyed the reconstruction govern
ment at a’ blow. Why should you keep
on voting against every interest of the
south, merely because you hate the name
Republican?"
“Why? Simply because so long as the ne
gro Is here with a ballot In his hands he
is a menace to civilization. The Republi
can party placed him here. The name Re
publican will stink in the south for a
century, not because they beat us in war,
but because two years after the war. in
profound peace, they inaugurated a sec
ond war on the unarmed people of the
south, butchering the starving, the wound
ed, the women and children! G,od in
heaven, will I ever forget that day they
murdered my mother! Their attempt to
establish with the bayonet an African bar
barism on the ruins of southern society
was a conspiracy against the human pro
gress. It was the blackest crime of the
nineteenth century.”
“You are talking in a dead language.
We are living in a new world.”
“But principles are eternal."
“Principles? I’m not talking about prin
ciples. I'm talking about the practical
politics. The people down here haven’t
voted on a principle In years. They've
been voting on old Simon Degree. He left
the state nearly a quarter of a century
ago."
“Yes, McLeod, but his soul has gone
marching on. The Republican party
fought the south because such men as De
gree lived in it, and abused the negroes,
and the moment they won, turn and make
Legree and his breed their pets. Simon
Legree Is more than a mere man who stole
five million of dollars, alienated the races,
and covered the south with the desolation
of monarchy. He is an idea. He repre
sents everything that the soul of the
south loathes, and that the Republican
party has tried to ram down our throats.
Negro supremacy in politics, and negro
equality In society.”
“You are talking about the dead past,
Gaston. I'm surprised at a man of your
brain living under such a delusion. How
can there be negro supermacy when they
are In a minority?"
“Supremacy under a party system is
always held by a minority. The dominant
faction of a party rules the party, and
the successful party rules the state. If
the negro only outnumbered one-fifth the
population and they all belonged to one
party, they could dictate the policy of that
party." <
“You know that a few white brains re
ally rule that black mob.”
“Yes, but the black mob defines the lim
its within which you live and have your
being."
“Gaston, the time has come to shake off
this'nightmare, and face the issues of our
day and generation. We are going to win
in this campaign, but ‘I want you. I like
you. You are the kind of man we need
now take the field and lead in this cam
paign.” »
“How are you going to win?"
“We are going to form a contract with
the Farmers’ Alliance and break the back
bone of the Bourbon Democracy of the
south. The farmers have now a compact
body of 50,000 voters, thoroughly organiz
ed, and combined with the negro vote we
can hold this state until Gabriel blows his
trumpet."
“That’s a pretty scheme. Our farmers
are crazy now with all sorts of fool Ideas,"
said Gaston thoughfully.
“Exactly, my boy, and we've got them
by the nose.”
“If you can carry through that program
you’ve got us in a hole.”
"In a hole? I should say we’ve got you in
the bottomless pit with the lid bolted
down. You'll not even rise at the day of
judgment. It won’t be necessary!” laugh
ed McLeod, and as he laughed he chang
ed his time in the midst of his laughter.
“And what is the proposition you have
to make to me?” asked Gaston.
“Join with us in this new coalition, and
stump the state for us. Your fortune will
be made, win or lose. I’ll see that the
national Republican committee pays you a
thousand dollars a week for your speeches,
at least five a week, two hundred apiece.
If we lose, you will make ten thousand
dollars in the canvass, and stand in line
for a good office under the national ad
ministration. If we win. I’ll put you in
the governor’s palace for four years.
There’s a tide in the affairs of man, you
know. It’s at the flood at this moment for
you."
Gaston was silent a moment and looked
thoughtfully out of the window. The of
fer was a tremendous temptation. A group
of old fogies had dominated the Demo
cratic party for tgn years, and had kept
the younger men down with their war
cries and old soldier candidates, until he
had been more than once disgusted. He
felt as sure of McLeod’s success as if he
already saw it. It was precisely set
against in the preceding campaign in
which they had deliberately alienated the
Farmers’ Alliance. They had pooh poohed
his warning and blundered on to their
ruin.
It was the dream of his life to have
money enough to buy back his mother’s
old home, beautify it, and live there in
comfort with a great library of books he
would gather. The possibility of a career
at the state capltol and then at Washing
ton for so young a man was one of daz
zling splendor to his youthful mind. For
the moment it seemed almost impossible
to say no.
McLeod saw his hesitation and already
smiled with the certainty of triumph. A
cloud overspread his face when Gaston at
length said: • ' .
“I’ll give you my answer tomorrow."
(To Be Continued.)
Sixty Years of Popularity
Is the record of Painkiller (Perry Davis’),
but the shops are full of imitations made te sell
upon the great reputation of the genuine; be
cautious, therefore, when you ask for a bot
tle to see that you get the genuine. Ab un
failing remedy for coughs, colds, bronchitis.
SAYS ms WIFE’S HAIR -
!S AN RED”
Mrs. Cora E. Bronner, who keeps a
boarding house at No. 624 Madison ave,
nue, was yesterday awarded SIOO counsel
fee and S6O a month alimony by Justice
Hall, of the supreme court, In her suit
for a limited divorce from Henry Bron
ner on the ground of alleged ill treat
ment, says the New York World.
The Bronners were married on July 7,
1897, and Mrs. Bronner Is 24 years old. She
asserts that her husband made so much
noise that she lost her best boarders and
that he insisted upon occupying the posi
tion of a boarder, but failed to give her
one cent toward his maintenance. Mrs.
Bronner has an income of S2OO a year
from property left her by her father, and
when she is 25 will be entitled to the prin
cipal. There is one child, Ella.
Bronner says his marital troubles are
due to his wife’s extravagance. She is
not satisfied, he asserts, with fe,wer than
six new dresses each season, six hats of
the latest pattern and six pairs of shoes.
He also alleges' that his wife spends a
large sum of money on expensive per
fumery and chemicals, with which “she
dies her hair a very improper shade of
red.”
Instead of being the star boarder, he
adds, he was compelled to sleep on a
lounge in the parlor and was not permit
ted to have a regular place at the table.
He asserts that his wife received $5,000
from her mother's estate, and will get
$7,000 more under her father’s will.
Justice Hall yesterday decided that Mrs.
Bronner’s married life had befn a failure,
and that under the circumstances her hus
band should be compelled only to support
the child. He also directed that Bronner
be permitted to see the child once a week
pending the trial.
remorsefulTglves”
UP LOST MONEY
Philadelphia Press.
On July 13tfr a passenger on one of the
Reading conjpany’s trains, on the New
York division, lost his pocketbook, con
taining S6O. He immediately reported his
loss to Superintendent Beach and was pos
itive at that time that the money had
been found by the brakeman, who had
failed to turn it in. When the brakejnan
was brought up before the officers he de
nied finding tne pocketbook, but the pas
senger insisted that he was the one who
had picked it up. The brakeman hereto
fore had borne a good reputation and the
officers were In a quandary what to do.
The matter hung fire until yesterday.
Although the secret force of the company
had been at work, nothing could be learn
ed. Upon opening his mail yesterday Su
perintendent Beach found the following,
in masculine handwriting:
"Mr. Supt—Enclosed you will find sixty
dollars that 1 found In a pocketbook on a
on July 13-02. The brakeman was
acused of picking it up, he is inocent. 1
did it myself. 1 threw the book away kept
the money i was on the train two day did
not see the brakeman or do not blame
him. ho is inosent i cold not keep it it
worried me so. ( .CONCIENCE.”
The money was in new notes and was
inclosed In a square envelope with a Phil
adelphia postmark on it. Ihe officials of
the companj’ are much gratified that the
matter has ended the way it has, as it re
stored the brakeman to the high favor in
which he has stood so long.
Genuine Rogers Silverware. H^Years 03
We make these extraordinary low prices for the month of Jane only to test th.
value of advertising.
Triple Plated <fcl AC .
Pinner Knives 'Pa.M-O
v-CT TRV THEJEWLER, I Atlanta, Forks, $1.25; Table Spoons,
- si.2o; Teaspoons, BOc-
nninmnmiimiiiinHiiminniiiimniHmmiiiimimHiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiianmo
■ -fr - thf
| SembWeekly Journal’s I
| Summer Contest for Agents. |
We offer SIOO.OO In cash to the.fourteen agents 8
== who send us the largest number of subscribers from g
May 6th to the Ist of September. This contest Is §
H the fourth we have offered to the agents, and as we S
H appreciate the valuable work of our friends we again Q
S offer them rewards to continue their good work. The §
|H prizes are as follows: S
For the largest number of subscribers Sa 11 ” -•••- S2O 00
For the second best list 15 08 =
Fortbetbird best list - <0 00 S
For the fourth best list... 10 00 =S
= For the fifth best list 10 00 =
E= For the sixth best list-... 500 S
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For tbs ninth best list-. 5 00 g
S For the tenth best list —. 601 §
For the eleventh best Het.... ... 250 E=
I For the twelfth best list —2 50 |
For the thirteenth best list 2 50 s
For the fourteenth best list 28l ||
Total •. .♦»••***♦• • 1108 00
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§ Write for terms and supplies and start your
HI so that on September Ist next you will have sent us |
S the largest number of subscribers and we wilt have
3 the pleasure of forwarding you a check for $20,00. E
Some of our best agents’ territory has been |
H thoroughly worked and now some new agents will g i
have an opportunity to secure the larger prizes if f
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For further information, sample copies and sup- S
S plies, address
SI
| The Semi=Weekly Journal, |
THE LONELY GRAVE, WHERE
ONE FORGOTTEN SLEEPS
ROMANTIC SPOT NEAR HARRODSBURG, YHE LAST RESTING PLACE
OF A BEAUTIFUL SOUTHERN Gl RL—PATHETIC STORY OF BELLE,*
WHOM DEATH TOOK AT THE HEIGHT OF HER REIGN.
Louisville Evening Post.
Tremblingly from out the gloomy past.
There come some bygone dreams
That o’er our time-worn spirits cast
The strangely sad but vivid dreams.
In a basement-room of Beaumont col
lege. Harrodsburg, Ky., there stands a
little, old-fashioned spinet—a scarred vet
eran of long ago, still bearing traces of
aristocratic lineage. The small, twisted
legs of mahogany show beautiful carving,
and the keys, though almost entirely in
nocent of ivory, are not wholly mute from
their long unbroken silence and the ac
cumulated dust of fifty years.
Why it has remained unmolested all
these years 1? not known. Sooner or later
some relic hunter will find and restore it
to its original rank.
Could this old instrument speak, a tale
it would tell of former glory, when it was
the central figure in the parlors of the
once famous Graham Springs—the ante
bellum Mecca for the south, the virtue of
whose healing waters was known far and
wide.
It would speak of a lone grave, where
the moonlight falls softly, throwing a halo
Over all, where the mocking bird on ?
nearby bough sings love songs to his nest
ing mate all through the night.
The tall trees cast gaunt shadows across
the winding paths, and a weird, uncanny
feeling over the earth and in the air takes
superstitious possession of one.
• • •
It is fifty years ago, the south is in, its
glory; wealth and ever}’ luxury belong by
right of birth and inheritance to those
aristocratic people.
They came to this celebrated watering
place In Central Kentucky, seeking health
and pleasure. The waters of the then fa
mous Graham Springs gave health and
happin*® 9 to many an invalid brought
there from the south
Three hundred acres of beautiful rolling
bluegrass land, laid off in parks, with
great forests to cast long, loving shade
and shelter, winding drives and romantic
walks, where lovers lingered hand in hand
and talked of future plans, building their
"Castles in Spain"
There was the one main hotel and two
long rows of cottages An ideal place In
which to live and love, and perhaps to die
—for many came too late to reclaim
health.
The people came la carriages with chil
dren, dogs and saddle horses, and a re
tinue of servants, to take up life for a
Reason For the well there was a round of
gaieties; for those not strong enough to
share in the ballroom and other pleasures
there was scenery and water, a solace
and sure cure for nearly all Ills,
One summer there came to the springs
a beautiful young woman, alone, except
for her maid; no chaperone; no friends.
She was young, beautiful, and alone, three
things that appeal strongly to the sympa
thetic southerner.
She was wealthy, if one could judge by
her appearance and the prodigality, with
which she spent money. She soon won
the heart of every one in the hotel and
cottages; all had something kind and
complimentary to say of the beautiful
stranger.
She had her own saddle-horse, and be
ing a perfect horsewoman, she made a
picture in her hunter’s green riding
habit on her thoroughbred bay, taking
the lead always with the riding parties.
She was the best whip at the springs,
and‘the admired of all, when she went
out in her light road wagon, pulling the
ribbons on the handsomest coal-black
team in Kentucky.
On the ball room floor she was queen
of all. She was truly the Impersonation
of beauty. She never sat out dances;
the first on the floor, she was always th»
last to leave.
One evening late In the summer shn
appeared in the dance hall, more radiant
than usual, her dark creole beauty
heightened by a flush on the cheek that
was foreign to her accustomed pallor.
All present noted this; but to solicitous
Inquiry she said she was feeling quite
well, with the exception of a sharp pain,
now and again, near the heart. , "Noth
ing at all," she would answer, In that
soft, caressing tone of voice peculiar t»
the far south.
She danced that evening as never be*
fore, truly the queen of the ball. When
the dance was at its height there was
sudden confusion; the music stopped;
dancers stood still; a shout for water
and a doctor rang out on the midnight'
air. The creole belle had fallen llfelest
on the ball room floor.
All was done in the power of physician
and friends, but to no purpose. The heart
stood still, .the spirit was free.
They carried her with loving hand*
and sorrowing hearts the next evening,
when the shadows began to lengthen, in
the beauty and stillness of the hour be
tween sundown and twilight, and laid
her to rest beneath a friendly sheltering
oak tree. It was her wish, so said her
maid.
The grave for years was protected, but
finally vandals and relic hunters claimed
it; and now, as for many years past, the
grave of the beautiful unknown, as she
was termed—for no relative or friend*
from out of the past ever came to put in
a claim—is marked only by the four
round sandstone pillars or cornerstones of
the sarcophagus. ‘
The civil war came on, the south had
neither time nor thought for summers at
the springs. The hotel was burned, the
crumbling walls for many years after
marked the spot of former glory. The
cottages were used during the war for an
asylum for wounded soldiers.
Generations have passed. The name is
forgotten, entirely obliterated from the
stones (though theye can still be seen the
faint trace of marking on them), but the
story lives.
The lone grave can still be seen by
anyone who cares to come and look—•
haunting spectre of a happy past.
Thousands suffer and hundreds die ev
ery year in this country from some form
of Bowel Complaint. The best remedy
for these diseases in children or adults
is DR SETH ARNOLD'S BALSAM. War
ranted to give satisfaction by Brannen S»
Anthony, Atlanta, Ga.
Unique In Politic*. • .
Brooklyn Eagle.
Once there was a man who was a great
talker. He was always at it. His tongue
wagged, whether wisdom or folly was th*
product. As It Was always in operation,
sometimes wit and sometimes wisdom fell
from It. but generally It was the contrary.
Then this man died. That Is, hls heart
ceased to beat and hls brain to think, but
the strange thing was that hls tongue went
on In the old way. It had never found out
that the man was dead. Indeed, after th*
physicians had declared the man could b*
safely buried it was yet talking. Now, th*
last thing the brain of this man had been
engaged with before he 'died was a vitupera
tive railing against the existing condition
of things In the political party he was sup
posed to be affiliated with and the tongu*
after' death continued in the same- strain.
The last thing heard mingling with the thud
of the sods was "the platforms of 1398 and
1900."
The Cynosure.
••Very self-conscious, wasn't he?”
“Yes; just like a man taking hls flrat au
tomobile ride.”—Detroit Free Press.