Newspaper Page Text
6
I ■ '
| THE COUNTRY HOME
Women on the Farm
Conducted By Mrs. IV. H. Felton.
Correapondenc* on home topic* or 4
4 rubject’ of especial Interest to wo- 4
+ men is invited. Inquiries or letter* 4
4 should be brief and dearly written 4
4 tn ink on one side of the sheet. 4
4 Write direct to Mrs. W. H. Fel- 4
4 ton. Editor Home Department Semi- 4
4 Weekly Journal. Cartersville. Ga. 4
4 No inquiries answered by maiL 4
?■ IH I I i I I I ? t I »'l I M »14444
Opportunities for Southern Young
Men.
If fortune and success does not beckon
to the young men of the south I am badly
We have some notable examples of what
•outaern born young men have accom
plished since the war. Some of the great
fortunes in Georgia have been accumu
lated by young men who had to begin at
the bottom after the surrender at Appo
mattox. I could call names, but it is not
necessary. They have loomed up into
distinct prominence in commercial and
professional progress, both of which
might be also included in Industrial prog
ress. All minds which are open to con
. victlon must admit the capacity and abil
ity of these very successful men in the
asuth. but it was individual effort which
won the success, and each individual has
the same openings for endeavor, if their
opportunities for succeoa are less appar
ent at this writing.
The mineral wealth of the south has
merely been tapped in a few years. The
forestry of this section has been dread
fully Imposed upon and our valuable tim
ber lands have been vandalised by our cit
izenship. but there are thousands upon
thousands of virgin forest that are still
preserved.
The hard woods of the south are becom
ing a staple, commercial product, vast
stretches of wooded lands will soon be
ready. I hope, for careful, economlnal. but
profitable purposes, paying for every out
lay to the user, and giving a profitable
Income to th* owner of the soil.
We need mechanical talent to turn these
opportunities to successful profit shar
ing. The agricultural possibilities are
hr measurable. An enthusiastic farmer
told me on yesterday that he was now pre
pareu -o Irrigate sixty acres of Georgia
soil, not far from the city of Rome.
The lesson of this drouth year makes
the irrigation problem very interesting to
poor farmers who expected so much and
will receive so little by reason of serious
lack of rain.
A little irrigation in the nick of time
would work wonders. In North Georgia
we have the hills and low places to make
storage reservoirs, as they do in the sage
brush lands of the western states. We
need engineering talent to plan and con
struct such reservoirs. Os surface water
that which floods and drenches our. lands
in winter, we get no perceivable benefit.
If It runs off at liberty ft makes gullies,
carries off the top soil and leaves the land
poorer every year. A skilful plan to suc
cessfully Irrigate would mean ten dol
lars to every acre, where we often get
less than one at present.
Here is a brilliant opening for talent,
energy and industry. All we need Is the
capable men who can work to success and
seize opportunities. •
If I could cndy advise as I really feel.
I would say. leave the; sale of dry goods,
'stenography and all such under shelter
occupations to the girls and strike out for
the big. manly and mammoth undertak
ings for which man's physical force is so
much better suited, and which go so far
to iliuptrating ;ttNF sMatouoff of our eit
ixenship. This w<wW is mow brimful of
opportunitier, which beckon.
No Good May Come Out of Nazareth.
Some years ago—lt eras generally pub
lished In all ■ our newspaper*—that our
Jefferson Davis bad.eome out openly on
the side of temperance; whereupon The
New York Evening Post expressed the
opinion that the temperance cause had
suffered a terrible blow, because Jeffer
son Davis had come out in favor of it.
All of which went <o prove that a deep
seated hatred is of a stronger fibre than
anything we find tn either church or
state. It was immaterial that Mr. Davis
had always been a moral man—had borne
an unsullied reputation with all the criti
cism heaped upon him—be was never
even charged witn any tof those follies
sometimes alluded to as the "vices of
gentlemen." --is reputation was unsullied
to the end.
But he gave offense as an ardent advo
cate of state soveriegnty. although he
was never weak on the moral side of
any great public question. So. when he
came out on the side of moral reform, his
political and partisan enemies at once
pronounced against temperance, because
Mr. Davis was its advocate. If these ene
mies had been properly understood noth
ing that Jefferson Davis advocated was
popular with -hem anymore.
"It is .the wit. the policy of sin
To hate those men we have abused."
Just so the strong prejudice against
slave owners is fostered and continued.
It is stated reliably —at Georgia was the
first territory of the thirteen organised
states in which African slavery was ab
solutely prohibited—but in the minds of
the abolition fanatics, Georgia was one
of the greatest sinners of all the seceding
states—during and after the civil war.
Although lynchers are known in nearly
every other state in the union (a negro
having been lynched in the state of
Oregon yesterday, September IS), when
ever the attack is made on the lynch
habit, in nine cases out of ten. the Geor
gia features of a lynching episode like
Sam Hose are those most prominently
brought forward in public prints.
It is in the blood. They are put up
that way. Nothing good may come out
.of Nazareta. They have formed the
habit of disliking the former southern
slave owners—and whatevc we is sub
ject to their cr...cism.
War Time Reminiscences.
ELERTON. Ga.
Dear Mrs. Felton: Your country home
department in The Semi-Weekly Journal
is thoroughly enjoyed by every member
of our household. Your editorial in last
Thursday s paper on "War-time Dresses"
was especially interesting, and your sug
gestion that personal accounts of the pri
vations and wonderful management of the
coutbem women in their every day life
during that trying period be sent to you.
ought to strike a responsive chord in ali
loyal southern hearts. It is a great mis
fortune that a history of those times
couid not have been preserved, but it is
too late for that now. Os course, it 13 an
acknowledged fact to every one that the
women of the Confederacy were as great
heroine* as the women of the Revolution.
My own recollection* of war times are
rather limited, ae I was a little girl then,
but my mother is indeed one of the old
veterans, and is as unreconstructed as
you or dear old “Bill Arp."
She was left at home on the plantaUon
in charge of a family of three girls and
two boy*, one of them an invalid, togeth
er with two motherless nieces, and a cul
tured young lady who lived with us in the
capacity of instructress anti friend. Five
of these girls were grown and the inven
tive talents employed by them in prepar-
FREE FOR WOMEN.
Ten day*' Home Treatment »«-nt Five to ail
sufferers fro-n Female Dlaeaiw's. Cured me.
and will cure you. Addreaa MRS. DICKEY.
Dept M-. Box MM. Columbia. S. C.
ing their wardrobes were pathetic and in
genious. Old hats were ripped up and
made over In new shapes, every scrap
of ribbon was tjreasured. recleai.ed and
pressed many times. Their homespun
dresses were subjects of much thought.
I remomiier some specially admired sum
mer dresses that were woven very thin,
and trimmed in gourd covered buttons
and red eords. Their best stockings and
glove* were knit by my oldest sister of
fipe cotton thread mixed with silk. The
old black silk scraps were picked up fine
and carded with the cotton. The best
shoes were made by a country shoemaker
of a deer skin that my father killed on
the Savannah river, near which we lived
at that time. There were a'good many
deer in the vicinity, and deer hunting was
a favorite sport with the wealthy plan
ter* of the neighborhood.
This deer skin was tanned and nicely
blacked. Those shoes were taken care
of and lasted a long time. Our every day
shoes were coarse and made of red
leather. The old man was hired by the
job to make shoes for the family and ne
groes. The beat of everything was for the
soldiers. If there was a little sugar, some
thing was made of it to send to the absent
one who was at the front. If a little coffee,
it was parched and ground to put in the
box that the trusted man servant was
sent home to carry back to his master,
and we drank our rye and parched potato
tea without a murmur.
Besides my father and a young brother,
my mother had three soldiers to provide
for; every garment they had was spun
wove and made—every sock knit. But one
of the poor fellows ever came home.
I hope many will respond to your in
vitation and let us know something of
their war experiences. My mother’s remin
iscences sound like fairy tales to her
grandchildren.
I want to thank you, dear Mrs. Felton,
for your many helpful, cheering words to
lonely country women. While we have
many pleasures, and much to be grateful
for, tn some respects our lives are nar
row and our social facilities limited. Very
truly, A COUNTRY WOMAN.
Did Gen. V/ashington’s Lady-Love
Marry a British Officer?
The following explains Itself:
Talbotton. Ga., Sept. 8, 1902.
Mrs. W. H. Felton: Is there any truth
in the statement that Gen. George Wash
ington was rejected by a wealthy
lady of Virginia, who after that, ac
cepted the hand of a British officer and
he afterwards asked congress to confis
cate her property; she then being in sym
pathy with British government?
Answer through Journal.
If the General did court the lady who
afterwards married a British officer—he,
iy-.d the rest of use might well ejaculate,
"Good riddance.”’
General Washington's wife—the widow
Custls—died at Mt. Vernon some years af
ter the General’s death. I remember be
ing told that her grief and loss was
so great that she occupied a room on
second floor where a window gave her a
sight of her husband's grave continually.
I saw yie bed'she slept on and various
things she used in the Mt. Vernon borne.
Thackeray'* "Virginians ” touche* upon
the love affairs of General, then Colonel
Washington about the time of Braddock’s
defeat.
When General Braddock led British sol
diers Into the wilderness to fight savages,
everybody was loyal to the British govern
ment at that period.
Possibly the story of Washington’s early
loves and the lady’s choice of a British
officer occurred about that time.
If General Washington had ever acted
ugly towards anybody—men or women—
we may be *ure his critics and enemies
would have exploited the fact to his in
jury.
But this story is news to me. and if
there are any reasons for its credibility,
it would be well perhaps to have the facts
appear. The truth wrongs nobody.
The Centennial Safe.
Perhaps It will be news to many read
ers of the Journal, but there Is said to
be a big iron safe in Washington City
under the rotunda of the cajrttol that will
be opened on the Slst of December. 1976. a
hundred years after it was locked and
closed at the Philadelphia Centennial ex
position. There are pictures of Lincoln
painted on the safe, an album of photo
graphs axd autographs of prominent men,
placed Inside; a silver Inkstand and two
pens, presented by Henry W. Longfellow.
There is another peculiar album in the
safe. Just below the signature of a sup
posed great man. a blank line is left,
where the lineal descendant is to inscribe
his name when the safe is opened.
The foreign ministers signed in an al
bum also. There are autographs and pho
tographs of all the presidents of the Uni
ted State* from 1770 to 1876. Also an
other of judges of supreme court cabinet
officers, president of senate and pro tem;
speaker of the house with the six long
est service senators and house members.
This was the program announced when
the centential exposition was in full blast,
and I am curious to know If the safe is
really in place under the rotunda. Will
not some of our many enterprising visitors
look out for it when they go to Washing
top city on a sight seeing exposition?
It was reported at the time that the safe
was given by generous Peter Cooper of
New York city, one of the greatest phil
anthropists this country ever produced.
Perhaps no man ever did more for the
welfare of his fellow men. according to
the size of his fortune at the time, than
generous Mr. Cooper.
There will be few. if any, of the people
who projected this centennial safe affair
to be present at the hundred year open
ing.
White of Egg—A Popular Remedy.
How times change and remedies change with
them! About twenty-three or twenty-four years
ago I nursed a long and very critical case of
typhoid fever. For twenty days the fever held
on. the patient growing weaker every day,
temperature rarely below IOS. often above that
figure. Delirium and double vision attended the
disease. A time came when nourishment was
Imperative to sustain the depressed vitality,
and we alternated with beef tea and egg-nog
every hour for weeks together.
"On no account use the white of the crs."
cautioned the doctor and consulting practition
er. "Vae the yolk of the egg. beat to a foam,
add a pinch of sugar, add four tablcspoonfuls of
sweet cream and a teaspoonful of good brandy
and give one tablespoonful of the mixture exoty
hoar." We kept the eggnog on Ice. made It
fresh twice In the day and made no use of the
whites of the eggs, as they were considerel
Indigestible or entirely unsuitable for such
a critical cast of fever.
Today tn reading a medical journal published
In Michigan I discover that Ute raw white of
eggs Is the brag treatment tn critical typhoid
fever.
The physicians we dealt with were among the
best or Washington city at the time and the
symptoms and condition of the patient were
bulletined more than once a day. but the doc
tors were foment the white of an egg in critical
illness. z
The Michigan journal tells of White of an egg
and lemonade for a r.utratlve drink in such
wasting diseases Two lemons, the white t»f two
eggs, a pint of boiling water and loaf sugar to
taste. The boiling water is poured on the
lemon with two lumps of loaf sugar, then the
water is strained off when cool. To this water
the whites are aided and slowly beaten. A(l to
be strained through muslin and given cold.
S*>me of our best physicians feed teething sick
children on white of egg as a remedy for second
summer complaint The white Is on top now
and the yellow Is In disfavor.
The Country Game.
Philadelphia Press.
•'Better watch that guv pretty careful," whis
pered the first bunco steerer. "He’s no farmer.”
"How do you know?” raid the other. "He
looks like one."
"I know It. but he can’t be a farmer, for I
asked him If he could play checkers, and be
aald 'no.' "
THE SEMI-WEEKLY JOURNAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, MONDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1902.
sSftLAZAR REjja
In "loisnrre" Mrs. Mary Hartwell Cath
erwood has given the reading public a
••1/Atglen” in prose. The themes are sim
ilar. but the lime of "Lazarre" antedates
that of “L'Alglen" by a generation. Hie
"L AIglon" concerns itself with the life and
advents of the Duke of Reichstadt. La
zarre" is the story of the Itfe and adven
tures of the Dauphin of France, the un
fortunate son of the ill-fated Louis X» 1,
and Maria Antoinette.
PRELUDE—ST. BAT’S.
"My name is Eagle,” said the little girl.
The boy Baid nothing.
"My name is Eagle,” she repeated.
"Eagle de Ferier. What is your name.
Still the bot said nothing.
She looked at him surprised, but checked
ber displeasure. He was about nine years
old, while she was less than seven. By
the dim light which sifted through the
top of St. Bat's church he did not appear
sullen. He sat on the flagstones as it
dazed and stupefied, facing a blacksmith s
forge, which for many generations had oc
cupied the north transept. A smith and
some apprentices hammered measures
that echoed with multiplied volume from
the Norman roof; and the crimson fire
made a spot vivid as blood. A low stone
arch, half walled up, and blackened by
smoke, framed the top of the smithy, and
through this frame could be seen a bit
of St. Bat’s close outside, upon which the j
doors stood open. Now an apprentice
would seize the bellows-handle and blow
up flame wJiich briefly sprang and disap
peared. The aprened figures, Saxpn and
brawny, made a fascinating show in the
dark shop. ,
Though the boy was dressed like a p.ain
French citizen of that year, 1790, and his
knee breeches betrayed shrunken calves,
and his sleeves, wrists that were swollen
as with tumors. Eagle accepted him as her
equal. His fine wavy hair was of a chest
nut color, and his hands and feet were
small. His features were perfect as her
own. But while life played unceasingly
in vivid expression across her face, his
muscles never moved. The hazel ejes,
bluish around their iris rims, took cogniz
ance of nothing. His left eyebrow had
been parted by a cut now healed and
forming its permanent scar.
“You understand me, don’t you?” Eagle
talked to him. "But you could not un
derstand Sally Bi..ke. She is an English
girl. We live at her house until our ship
sails, and I hope it will sail soon. Poor
boy! Did the w med mob in Paris hurt
your arms?”
She soothed and patted his wrists, ana
he neither shrank in pain nor resented the
endearment with male shyness.
Eagle edged closer to him on tho stone
pavement. She was amused by the black
smith’s arch, and interested in all the un
usual life around ber, and she leaned for
ward to find some response in his eyes.
The ancient church of St. Bartholomew
the Great, or St. Bat's as it was called,
in the heart of London, had long been a
hived village. Not only were houses clus
tered thickly around its outside walls and
the space of ground named its close, but
the insid*, degraded from its first use, was
parceled out to owners and householders.
The nave only had been retained as a
church bounded by massive pillars, which
did not prevent Londoners from using it as
a thoroughfare. Children of resident dis
senters could and did hoot when it pleased
them, during service, from an overhanging
window in the choir. The Lady Chapel
was a fringe maker's snop. The smithy
in the north transept had descended from
father to son. The south transept, walled
up to make a respectable dwelling, showed
through its open door the ghastly marble
tomb of a crusader which the thrifty Lon
don housew'ife had turned into a parlor
table. His crossed feet and-hands and up
ward staring countenance protruded from
the midst of knick-knacks.
Light fell through the venerable clere
story on upper arcades. Some of tnese
were Walled shut, but others retained their
arched openings into the church. and
formed balconies from which upstairs
dwellers could look down at what was
passing below.
Two women leaned out of the N orman
az ades, separated only by a pillar, watch
ing across the nave those little figures
seated in front of the blacksmith's win
dow. An atmosphere of comfort and
t-rift filled St. Bat's. It was the abode
of labor and humble prosperity, not an
asylum of poverty. Great worthies, in
deed. such as John Milton, and nearer our
own day. Washington Irving, did not dis
dain to live in St. Bartholomew's close.
The two British matrons, therefore, spoke
the prejudice of the better rather than
the baser class.
"The little devils!” said one woman.
"They look Innocent,” remarked the
other. "But these French do make my
back crawl!”
"How long are they going to stay in St.
Bat’*?”
"The two men with the little girl and
the servant Intend to sail for America
next week. 'i»ie lad, and the man that
brought him in—as dangerous looking a
foreigner as ever I saw!—are like to
pr wl out any time. 1 saw them go into
the smithy, and I went over to ask the
smith's wife about them. She let two up
per chambers to the creatures this morn
ing.”
“What ails the lad?” He has the look
of an idiot.”
"Well. then. God knows what ails any
of the crazy French! If they all broke out
with -oils like the heathen of scripture,
it would not surprise a Christian. As it
is, they keep on beheading one another,
day after day and month after month;
and the time must come when none ot
them will be left—and a satisfaction that
will be to respectable folks!”
"First the king, and then the queen.”
mused on speaker*. “And now news comes
that the little prince has died of bad treat
ment in his prison. England will not
go into mourning *or him as it did for
his father. King Louis. What a pretty
sight it was, to see every decent body in
a bit of black, and the houses draped,
they say, in every town! A comfort it
must have been to the queen of France
when she heard of such Christian re
spect!”
The women’s faces, hard in texture and
rubicund as beef and good ale could make
them, leaned silent a moment high above
the dim pavement. St. Bat's little bell
struck the three quarters before ten;
lightly, delicately, with always a promise
of the great booming which should follow
on the stroke of the hour. Its perfection
of sound contrasted with the smithy
clangor of metal in process of welding.
A butcher's boy made his way through
the front entrance toward a staircase, his
feet echoing on the flaps, carrying exposed
a joint of beef on the board upon his
head.
“And how do your foreigners behqße
themselves. Mrs. Bloke?” inquired the
neighbor.
“Like French emmy-grays, to be sure.
I told Blake when he would have them to
lodge in the house, that we are a re
spectable family. But he is master, and
their lordshfps has money in their
purses.”
"French lordships!” exclaimed the
neighbor. "Whether they calls them-'
selves counts or markises, what's their
nobility worth? Nothing!”
"The Markis de Ferier,” retorted Mrs.
Blake, nettled by a liberty taken with her
lodgers which she reserved for herself.
• is a gentleman if he is an emmy-gray.
and French. Blake may be master in his
own house, but he knows landed gentry
from tinkers—whether they ever comes
to their land again or not.”
"Well, then,” soothed her gossip, “I
was only thinking of them French that
comes over, glad to teach their letters, or
even to work with their hands for a
! crust."
“S'till,” said Mrs. Blake, again giving
| rein to her prejudices, ”1 shall be glad to
■ 71
w / 1
■ • 11 f
-' 1 ■ W
see all Frencn papists out of St. Bat’s.
For what does scripture say?—'Touch not
the unclean thing!’ And that servant
body, Instead of looking after her little.,
missus, galloping out of the close on
some bloody errand!”
You ought to be thankful, Mrs. Blake,
to have her out of the way, instead of
around our children, poisoning their in
fant minds! Thank God they are playing
in the church lane like little Christians,
safe from even that lad and lass yon
der!”
A yell of fighting from the little Chris
tians mingled with their hoots at choir
boys gathering for the ten o’clock service
in St. Bat’s. When Mrs. Blake and her
friend saw this preparation, they with
drew their dissenting heads from the ar
cades in order not to countenance what
might go on below.
Minute followed minute, and the little
bell struck the four quarters. Then the
great bell boomed out ten;—the bell
which had given signal for lighting the
funeral piles of many a martyr, on
Smithfield, directly opposite the church:
Organ music pealed; choir boys appeared
from their robing-room beside the en
trance, pacing two and two as they chant
ed. The celebrant stood in his place at the
altar, and antlphonal music rolled
the arches; pierced by the dagger voice of
a woman in the arc/üß>s, who called after
the retreating butcherii boy to look sharp,
and bring her the joint she ordered.
• Eagle sprang up and dragged the arm of
the unmoving boy in the north transept.
There was a weeping tomb in the chancel
which she wished to show him—lettered
with a threat to shed tears for a beautiful
memory if passersby did not contribute
their share; a threat the marble duly exe
cuted on account of the dampness of the
church and the hardness of men’s hearts.
But it was impossible to disturb a relig
ious service. So she coaxed the boy, drag
ging behind her, down the ambulatory be
side the oasis of chapel, where the sing
ers, sitting sidewise, in rows facing each
other, chanted the Venlte. A few worship
ers from the close, all of them women,
pattered in to take part in this dally office.
The smithy hammers rang under organ
measures, and an odor of cooking sifted
down the arcades.
Outside the church big faf bellied pig
eons were cooing about the tower or strut
ting and pecking on the ground. To kill
ope was a grave offense. The worst boy
playing in the lane durst not lift a hand
against them.
Very different game were Eagle and
the other alien whom she led past the red
faced English children.
“Good day,” she spoke pleasantly, feel
ing their antagonism. -aey answered
her with a titter.
“Sally Blake is the only one I know,"
she explained in French, to her com
panion who moved feebly and stiffly be
hind her dancing step. “1 cannot talk
English to them, and besides, their man
ners are not good, for they Are not like
our peasants.”
Sally Blake and a bare kneed lad began
to amble behind the foreigners, he taking
—s cue smartly and lolling out his
tongue. The whole crowd cct up a shout,
and Eagle looked back. She wheeled and
slapped the St. Bat’s girl in tho face.
That silent being whom she had taken
under her care recoiled from the blow
which the bare kneed ooy instantly gave
lum. and without defending himself or
her, shrank dowm in an attitude of en
treaty. She screamed with join at this
sight, which hurt worse than the hair
pulling of t .ie mob around her. She fought
like a panther In front of him.
Two men in the long narrow lane lead
ing from Smitnfleld, interfered, and scat
tered her assailants.
You may pars up a step into the grave
yard, which is separated by a wall from
the lane. And though nobody followed,
.. e two men hurried Eagle and the boy
into the graveyard and closed the gate.
It was not a large enclosure, and thread
like paths, grassy and ungraveled, wound
among crowaed graves. There - as a very
high outside wall, nnd the place insured
such privacy as could not had in St.
Bat’s church. Some crushed stones lay
broad as gray doors on ancient graves;
but the most stood up in irregular ob
longs, white and lichened.
A cat call »>om the .ane was the last
shot of the battie. Eagle valiantly sleek
ed her disarm- ed hair, i.ie breast under
uer bodice still heaving and sobbing. The
June sun Illuminated a determined child
of the gray eyea type between white a .u
brown, flusnea with fullness of blood,
quivering with her Intensity of feeling.
“Who wouid say this was * ademoisene
de Ferrier!” observed the younger of the
two men. h were past middle age.
Th? one whose queue showed the most
gray took Eag.e reproachfully by her
hands; but the other stood faughing.
“My little daug .er.
“I did strike tr.e English girl—and I
worn, do it again, father."
* She would uo it again, monsieur the
CR*CAT MONEY MAKER.
New < lirlstniat Bo«»k * for 1902.
Largest variety. Biggest commission. Hand
somest »a*n|.le-casc outfit, rhowing eight beau
tiful new locks, not a re-lvuh cf old books, but
eight entirely now Holiday Books. Cbtnmis
sionu 50 per cent. Complete outfit prcnald to
your address only B 0 cents tn postage. Patron
ize Ijome company. Get quick service. Save
time and money on orders. Exclusive terrltoiy.
Credit given. Order outfit and secure territory
at once. Address D. E. Luther I’ub. Co.. 74 and
<t> N. Broad St., Atlanta. Ga.
marquis,” repe_ied the laugner.
“Were the cu..-ren rude to you?”
“They mocked him. father.” She pull
ed the boy from behind a grave stone,
where he crouched unmoving as a rabbit,
and showed him to her guardians. “See
how weak he is! Regard him—how ije
walks in a uream! (Look at his swollen,
wrlsta—he cannot fight. And If you wjjh 1
to make these English respect you you
have got to fight them!”
"Where is Ernestine? She should not
have left you alone.”
"Ernestine went to the shops to obey
your orders, father.”
The boy’s dense inertia w’as undisturb
ed by what had so agonized the girl. He
stood in the English sunshine gazing stu
pidly at her guardians.
"Who is this boy, Eagle?” exclaimed the
younger man.
"He does not talk. He does not tell
his name.”
The younger man seized the elder's arm
and whispered to him.
"No, Philippe, no!” the elder man an-,
swered. But they botn approached the
boy with a deference which surprised Ea
gle, and examined his scarred eyebrow
and his wrists. Suddenly the marquis
dropped upon his knees and stripped the
stockings down those meager legs. He
kissed them, and the swollen ankles, sob
bing like a woman. The boy seemed un
conscious of this homage. Such exag
geration of her own tenderness made
her ask:
"What ails my fathqr, Cousin Phi
lippe?”
Her Cousin Philippe glanced azound the
high wajls and spoke cautiously. ,
“Who was the English girl at the head
of your mob. Eagle?”
"Sally Blake.”
"What would Sally Blake do if she saw
tho little king of France and Navarre
ride into the church lane, filling it with
his retinue, and heard the royal salute
of twenty-one guns fired for him?”
“She would be afraid of him.”
“But when he comes afoot, with that
idiotic face, giving her such a good chance
to 'bait him—how can she resist baiting
him? Sally Blake is human.”
“Cousin Philippe, this is not our dau
phin? Our dauphin is dead! Both my
father and you told me hq died in the
Temple prison nearly two weeks ago!”
The Marquis de Ferrier replaced the
boy’s stockings reverently, and rose, back
ing away from him.
“There is your king, Eagle,’’ the old
courtier announced to his child. "Louis
XVII, the son of Louis XVI and Marie
Antoinette, survives in this wreck. How
he escaped from prison we do not know.
Why he is here unrecognized in England,
where his claim to the throne was duly
acknowledged on the death of his father,
we do not know. But we who have often
seen the royaJ child cannot fail to identi
fy him; brutalized as he is by the past
horrible year o< his life.”
The boy stood unwinking before his
three expatriated subjects. Two of them
noted the traits of his house, even to his
ears, which were full at top, and without
any Indentation at the bottom where they
meet the sweep of the jaw.
The dauphin of France had been
most tortured victim of his country’s ev
olution. By a jailer who cut his eyebftw
open with a blow, and knocked him down
on the slightest pretext, tne child had
been forced to drown memory in fiery li
quor, month after month. During six
worse months, which might have been
bettered by even such a jauer, hid from
the light in a« airless dungeon, covered
with rags which were never changed,
and with filth and vermin which daily
accumulated, having his food passed to
I The Semi=Weekly Journal |
5 OF ATLANTA. OA„ g
Is the Official Organ of the Southern Cotton g
Growers’ Protective Association.
SUBSCRIPTION PRICE. «£
One Year M.OO
Six Months 5° 5E
Three Months *25
Issued on Monday and Thursday of Each Week. *c
OUR CLUBBING OFFERS.
I-^ 1 Our Premium Watch and Semi-Weekly one year, $2.15. This
Watch is guaranteed by the manufacturers to keep correct time
for one year, and we guarantee safe delivery.
Gold Fountain Pen and Semi-Weckly one year, $1.70. 14
karat gold pen pdint, best quality of irridium used, hard Para
rubber holder, highly polished. Points, fine, medium or stub.
Rand. McNally & Co.’s Atlas of the World, 225 pages. Two S
descriptive pages and one page devoted to the map of each state
and country, with The Semi-Weekiy Journal one year, $1.50.
*5 Atlas alone, SI.OO. g
Rand, McNally & Co.’s Wall Map of Georgia, divided into
counties, with index of each town and city with the population,
ancPon the reverse side map of United States, with 1900 cen
sus and population of each state and principal city, also of all
• -2! foreign possessions.
THIS MAP GIVEN FREE WITH A YEAR’S SUBSCRIPTION TO »
THE SEMI-WEEKLY. MAP ALONE sOc.
■-
5 The Five Vaseline Toilet Articles manufactured by the cele
brated firm of Chescbrough Mfg. Co., of New York, and Semi- zt
*5 Weekly one year, only SI.OO.
5 The Semi-Weekly and the Youth’s Companion, $2.75.
The Semi-Weeklv and Munsev’s Magazine one year. $1.85. «
The Semi-Weeklv and Thrice-a-Week World one year. $1.50. g
The Semi-Weekly and The Pilgrim. Battle Creek. Mich.. 81.25. JC
ja The Semi-Weekly and Rural New Yorker one year, $1.75. g
For $1.40 we will send the Semi-Weekly one year, the Five
Vaseline Toilet Articles, and one of the papers offered free g
with our Semi-Tfeekly.
5 ANY ONE OF THE FOLLOWING PAPERS GIVEN FWIEE WITH g£
ONE YEAR’S SUBSCRIPTION TO OUR SEMI-WEEKLY g
-'4 WITHOUT EXTRA CHARGE.
Southern Cultivator, of Atlanta, Ga.
The Western Poultry News, of Lincoln, Neb. 3E
American Swineherd, of Chicago, 111. g
The Gentlewoman, of New York City.
-j] Tri-State Farmer and Gardener, of Chattanooga, Tenn.
The Home and Farm, of Louisville, Kv.
>» The American Agriculturalist, of New York City.
JT The Commercial Poultry, of Chicago, 111. * Sp
The Conkev Homo Journal, of Chicago. UJ- Jr
The Stockman, of DeFuniak Springs. Fla.
Farm and Fireside, of Springfield, Ohio. . g
% Missouri Valiev Farmer. Topeka. Kansas.
him through a slit tn the door, hearing no
human voice, seeing no human face, his
joints swelling with poisoned blood, he
had died in everything except physical vi
tality, and was taken out at last merely
a breathuig corpse. Then it was proclaim
ed that this corpse had ceased to breathe.
The heir of a long line of Kings was cof
fined and buried.
While the eider De Ferrier shed ner
vous tears, the younger looked on with
eyes which had seen the drollery of the
French revolution.
“I wish I knew the man who played this
clever trick, and whether honest men or
the rabble are behind It.”
“Let us find him and embrace him!”
“I would rather embrace his prospects
•when the house of Borboun comes again
to the threne es France. Who is that fel
low at the gate? looks as if he had
some here."
The eafte en qjpoag'.the tomb
stones, shdwjng d full presence and pros
perous air. Suggestjpg good vintages, such
as. weze never Bet out in the Smithfield
alehouse. Instead of being sffipoth shaven i
be wore a very long mustache which
dropped its ends below his chin.
A court painter, attached to his patrons,
ought to have fallen into staffs during
the revolution. Philippe exclaimed with
astonishment:
“Why, its Bellinger! Look at him!”
Bellenger took off his cap and made a
deep reverence.
“My qjncle is weeping over the dead
English, Bellinger,” said Philippe. “It
always moves him to tears to see how
few of them die,”
“We can make no such complaint
against Frenchmen in these days, mon
sieur, ’ the court painter answered. “I
see you have my young charge here, en
joying the gravestones with you—a pleas
ing change after the unmarked trenches
of France. »/ith your permission I will
take him *way.”
"Have I the honor. Monsieur Bellenger.
of salutipg —e man who brought the king
out of jfr»son?” the old man Inquired.
Again BqJJpnger made the marquis a
deep revereace, which modestly disclaim
ed any exploit.
“When was this done? W.*o were your
helpers? Where are you taking him?"
Bellenger lifted his eyebrows at the fa
natical royal is ..
“I wish I had had a hand in it!” spoke,
Philippe de Ferrier.
“I am taking this boy to America, mon-,
sieur the marquis,” the painter quietly
answered.
“But why not to one of his royal un
cles?”
"His royal uncles," repeated Bellenger.
“Pardon, monsieur the marquis, but did
I say he had any royal uncles?”
“Come!” spoke Philippe de Ferrier. "No
jojees with us. Bellenger. Honest men of
every degree should stand together in
these times.
sa<. down on a flat gravestone,
and looked at the boy who seemed to be
an object of dispute between the men of
her family and the other man. He neither
saw nor heard what passed. She said to
"It would make no difference to me!
’ It is the same whether he is the king or
not."
Bellenger’s eyes half closed their lids
as if for protection from the sun.
"Monster de Ferrier may rest assured
that I am not at present occupied with
jokes. I will again ask permission to take
my charge away.”
"You may not go until you have answer
ed some questions.”
"That I will do as far .as I am permit
ted."
"Do monsieur and his brother know that
the king is here?” inquired the elder De
Ferrier, taking the lead.
“Vaat reason have you to beljeve.'L re
sponded Bellenger, "that the Count de
Provence and the Count D’Artois have any
interest in this boy?”
Phillpe laughed and kicked the turf.
"We have seen him many a time at
Versailles, my friend. You are very mys
terious."
"Have his enemies or h.s friends set
him free?” demanded the old Frenchman.
x hat," said Bellenger, ” I may not
tell."
• Does monsieur know that you are go-
ing to take him to America?”
“That I may not telL”
"When do you sail, and in what ves
sel?’ .
“These matters also I may not tell?’
“This man is a kidnapper!” the old no-'
ble cried, bringing out his sword with a'
hiss. But Phillpe held his arm.
“Among things permitted to you,” said
Philippe, “perhaps you will take oath
v—e boy is not a Bourbon?”
Behenger shrugged and waved hia
hands.
iou admit that he is?”
“I admit nothing, monsieur. These are
days in which we save our heads a* well
as we can, and admit nothing.”
“If we bad never seen tue> dauphin, we
sboyld infer that this is no common child
you are carrying away so secretly, bound
by so many pledges. A man like yoU, ■
trusted with an Important mission, nat..
orally magnifies It. You refuse to lati
us know anything about this affair?" . •
‘I ajn simply obaying orders, monsieur,”
sajd Bellenger humbly. "It is not'my
affair.”
“You are better dressed, more at ease
wim the world than any other refuge*
I have seen since we came out of Franco.
Somebody wh' has money is paying to!
have the c—— placed in saaety. Veryi
well. Any country but his own is a good
country for him now. My uncle and I
will not interfere. We do not understand.
But liberty of any kind is better than im- t
prlsonment and death. You can of course
evade us. ~ut I give you notice I shall
look for this boy in America, and if you
take him elrewhere I shall probably find
L out?'
“America Is a large country," aald Bel
lenger, smiling.
He took the boy by the hand, and mad*
his adieus. The old De Ferrier deeply sa
luted the boy and slightly saluted hia ’
guardian. The other De Ferrier nodded.
"We are making a mistake, Philippe!" .
said the uncle.
p "Let him go.” said the nephew. "He
will probably slip away at once out of St.
Bartholomew's. We can do nothing until
we are certain of the powers behind him. '
Endless msaster to the child himself!
might result from our interference. If I
’France were ready now to take back her ;
king, would she accept an imbecile?” |
The o!d De Ferrier groaned aloud.
“Bellenger is not a bad man,” added
Philippe.
' Eagle watched her playmate until th*<
closing gate hid him from sight. She re-]
megabered having once Implored her nurse!
for a small plaster image displayed in a 1
shop. It could not speak, nor move, nor
love her in return. But she cried secretly
I all night to have it in her arms, ashamed
of <he unreasonaNS desire, but conscious
that she could not be appeased by anr»!
thing else. That plaster image denied to
r her symbolized the strongest passion of
her life.
The pigeons wheeled around St. Bat’a
tower, or strutted burnished on the wall.
The bell, which she had forgotten slnca
sitting with the boy in front of th*
blacksmith shop, again boomed out Its
record of time; though it seemed to Eagle
'that a long, lonesome period Ilk* eternity
had bejAin.
To be continued.
An Old Harrovian.
London Chronicle.
The death of the Rev. Benjamin Heath
Drury breaks the last link in a chain which
has connected Harrow with the name, of Drury
’ for nearly a century and a half. It was in
the very first years of the reign of George HL
that Benjamin Heath Drury’s grandfather first
went as an assistant master to Harrow; he
was head master for twenty years, and, of
course. Is immortalised as Byron's Dr. Drurjj.
Rls son was Byron’s tutor, and it was oflß
his behalf that Byron is said to have led the)
famous revolt. "Hie Rev. Benjamin—despite all t
skepticism on the subject—did enter Harrow
school just eighty yeqrs ago at the
four—and remained at the "school on the Hili’
for fourteen years. A record in the life of a
public-school boy, but boys left the nursery
earlier In those days. After taking a first
in the classical tripos at Cambridge, he came
back to his old school as assistant master In
IMO. Harrow was then—under the head m«-
tershlp of the last Bishop of Lincoln. Christo
pher Wordsworth—ln the very abyss of mis
fortune, there were not a hundred boys in ths
school. There he stayed and saw. under Dr.
Vaughan, its numbers rise to over five hundred.
In Russia the penalty for leading a. strike
Is the same as that for a rebellion.
4 THE Z
\ Semi-Weekly Journal’s <
( Premium Watch. >
<
$ arF lO'X 1
<|l|l9 sjjj
?lwß
5
/ This watch la guaranteed by the •
L factory to run and keep correct >
j time for one year and we guarantee Z
Z safe delivery. By purchasing these X
\ watches in large quantities we are J
t enabled to make the exceedingly A
f low rate of $2.15 for The Semi- V
p Weekly one year and the watch. >
c A The Semi- \ (
? I Weekly \
( H Journal’s c
C H Fountain I
S Pen. ?
) H 14 karat gold, the T
x m 3 best <i uallt y of x
? Bl lum 18 used and /
/ Ml can be sent in fine, i
j medium or stub Z
Z g-n points. The holder L
1 i« made of hard J
/ HH Para rubber and >
x M highly polished. X
/ This pen 18 Bent •
\ with The Semi- k
) S 3 Weekly one year Z
f for only SI.TO. • \
) The Semi-Weekly z
> Journal’s SI Atlas /
( of the World. \
/ This Atlas is «x? inches and con- C
\ tains 225 pages. A map of each state 1
! and country of the Eastern and
f Western Hemispheres is given in f
X addition td the description. It is J
f neat, bandy and is a ready refer- f
( ence book. The Semi-Weekly Jour- I
\ nal one year with the Atlas post- \
J paid only $1.50. \ ,
; Special Offers. r
X For a club of four and $4.00 We X
r will send absolutely free to the f
f sander of the club one of our pre- 1
X tnlum watches. 1
J Far a club of two and $2.00 we will Z
C send free one gold fountain nen. X
For a club of three and $3.00 we J
J will send postpaid one of our At- >
I lasew. x
J Each subscriber in the special >
5 offers Is entitled to select say one •
C of our premiums offered with k
X a year’s subscription. Z
Z Address all orders and communi- I
\ cations to .... - J
< THE SEMI-WEEKLY JaUHNiL <
C ATLANTA. GA. f