Newspaper Page Text
[For The Sunny South.]
IN MINIATURE.
BY HENRY C. MANEB.
'Tie true, tome rumors were extent
Of her he chose to make his wife;
But, then, no one would die in went
If rumors gave the breed of life.
Some thought her mind had too much light.
While others only shook the heed,
Or prophesied they'd surely fight—
“ Because," they’d say, “ her hair is red.”
Others foretold they’d likely perish,
And thus would end an aimless life;
But still they lire, and live to cherish
The day that made them man and wife.
True, she lives not on the caresses
And honeyed flatteries of the world;
And if she loves to curl her tresses.
It is to please her lord they’re curled.
And true she likes to keep her troubles
Far from a world with gossip rife.
Regarding such as transient bubbles.
Predestined on the stream of life.
And thus they still together journey
The quiet way they choose to walk.
Taking their tilt in Labor's tourney,
Dealing to each the "right to talk."
THE REALITY OF ROMANCE.
BY M. IA. C.
been seen by any of the hotel people until the : grain, and summoning all my remaining resolu-
morning clerk identified the body at the coro- ! tion for a final struggle, I rushed to the window,
ner’s inquest. The strangest part about the threw up the sash, opened the blinds and sent
affair was that Lloyd had, on the evening of the the vial containing ail the rest spinning into the
28th of February, registered at the same hotel j air. I watched it as it spun across the street,
under his own proper name, a ! d paid his bill I and saw it shivered upon the side of the house
two days in advance, going im'mediately to his | opposite my room. I rushed back, and hastily ,
room, number thirty-six. The evening clerk I taking the grain which I had left measured on i P e88 > far surpassing those created by the wildest
was called as a witness at the inquest, and had ! the paper, threw my self prostrated and exhausted ' \ ma K inat > on “ a saying which is more than veri-
fully identified the body as that of the person i on the bed. My struggle had lasted all night I bed his own “Bride of Lammermoor ” and
who had registered as Reeves Tfioyd, on the j saw the cheerful sunshine just peeping into my “ Heart of Mid-Lothian,” and which is further
evening of the 28th, and who had not since been J room, and hoped that the worst was over.
“While IjiBg there, I was seized by the!
strangest of all sensations which I had ever had. i
I fell into a dreaming, hazy, dozing state of ex
istence, free from any pain, but it. seemed that
I was standing by the side of the bed and look
ing down upon: myself. Then, that I had sepa
rated into two existence; that my nervous body ‘ , , , ,
had separated from my muscular and stood and Klaves > ant * accounted himself peculiarly
watching it. After a while, a third existence sbarj1 at a bar g«in. Every Christmas lie engag-
entered the room, which I recognized as the one ! ed an oversee f> whose pay ho made dependent
I had been fighting for years, and after a brief ° D remaini ?>' * itb him the year through,
but powerless resistance on tiie part of my nerv- and '^ ben P^ ant * n o time was well over he made
ous body, took possession of the part which was a business of getting up a quarrel that would
— .i.- xT-j *i. .v-. T : partwmen was force tlje lllan to leave- 0 nce, however be met
j* [For The Sunny South.J
^ANGE BUT TRUE.
BY JOHN W. SUTLIVH.
In the four years which followed, I heard noth-
• ing from Lloyd; and so busy had my life become,
its cares increasing with increasing years, that,
though I blush to admit it, thoughts of my friend
seldom crossed my mind. Sitting at my desk one
evening, just after the candles had been lighted,
I was smoking and watching, in a large mirror
before me, the curling smoke as it floated in
fantastic wreaths and waves around and above
my head. I had been thus idly employed for
some time, when I caught, in the mirror, sight
of Lloyd approaching me from behind. All
my old friendship was revived in an instant,
and springing from my chair, in my excessive
joy at the meeting, I turned to welcome him
again to my home; but my gaze fell upon empty
space—no Lloyd was there! I was stupefied
with amazement. I had certainly seen my
friend, and though but for an instant, yet form,
face, eyes, hair, even the red spot that had
glowed upon the temple, had been stamped
upon my vision as distinctly as though I had
gazed at him for an hour? The apparition filled
me with wonder and vague alarm, which were
heightened when it suddenly flashed over me
that this was the fatal twenty-ninth of February,
1872, and that Lloyd had promised to be with
me on that day, alive or dead.
I paced the floor in a tumult of agitating
thought, until mind and body becoming ex
hausted, I threw myself again upon the lounge.
With my eyes fixed upon the mirror that had
Bhown me the supernatural visitant, I strove to
recall it; my thoughts, my feelings became in
tensely centred upon the idea of my friend; I
seemed borne out of myself: a glamonr fell over
me—a giddiness, an indistinctness wholly un
like ordinary sleep. Then the whirling, con
fused feeling passed; my senses returned with
preternatural acuteness. I seemed to be all vis
ion, hearing, sympathy.
But now my surroundings were changed.
Streets and buildings were around me. and soon
I recognized the Globe Hotel in St. Louis, Mis
souri. The sun had just risen overthe city; life
and and activity and bustle filled its marts, and
people moved therein in bnsv, jostling throngs.
Among them all I recognized no face, until at
seen. This was all. Of course, Lloyd had reg
istered under a false name as arriving on the
morning of the 20th, to prevent identification,
knowing or feeling what was to come. I, who
knew with what he had to struggle, could read
ily understand all that, and it only formed, for
me, another method of identification. The
others knew nothing of this; and I had decided
that Lloyd’s secret should die with me.
The only thing that bothered me in the case
was the woman. I could not say whether she
was the woman whose picture Lloyd had shown
me, or not. As for her name, Lloyd had spoken
of her only as Laura, and that was all I knew.
The dead woman was petite, with brown hair
and eyes: so was Laura, so were a hundred
women. Upon inquiry at the house where the
tragedy occurred, I found that it was a fashion
able boarding-house; that the lady had arrived
the evening before, and no one knew her name,
nor was there any clew by which it could be ob
tained. As for the man, the proprietor was pos
itive that he had never been in the house before
the day of the tragedy.
I had the bodies decently buried, and after
other ineffectual efforts at a solntion of the affair,
gave up in despair and returned home.
Sir Walter Scott is credited with saying that
the chronicles of a single county-site would fur
nish incidents for comedy, tragedy and strange-
proven by the opening sentence of “The Circuit
Rider:” “Whatever is incredible in this story is
true,” and in exemplification, this writer pur
poses to tell herein some stories of real life,
whereof she knows by observation or tradition.
Many years ago there dwelt in our county an
ancient worthy whose eccentricities call for the
pen of a Dickens. He had great wealth in land
answer to me for it.” It is needless to add he
went away safe, or that the yonng men were
convinced their money had been fairly lost.
Fifty years ago, by unanimous consent, Judge
was the most enviable man in the county.
Of high family, handsome fortune, good looks,
stainless reputation, a lawyer of renown and a
politician esteemed alike by followers and oppo
nents, the announcement of his coming mar
riage with the greatest heiress of the day was
regarded as but a fit consummation of the eter
nal fitness of things. Matters went bravely on,
the feast was set, the guests, if not met, many of
them on their way, when a disturbing element
appeared in the shape of Major , the Judge’s
equal save in the matter of scrupulous honor,
and fortune, and his superior in that woman
winning possession, a silver tongue. He came,
spoke and conquered, and too wise to risk the
dangers of delay, had the ceremony performed
the same day. Now, in poetic justice, I ought
to tell how miseries manifold befell the fickle
lady; that her husband proved a brutal spend
thrift, and life, to her, one long repining over
her grand mistake, while the Judge should in
crease in honors and years, with never a thought
on the bed. All that I remember for some timo 1
then, is that I thought of
all my soul that yon were
not how long. My next uennite remembrance , .. *7TVT —- ; uue ui me rarest speci _ _
is that I found myself upon the street with an eur j£ ,ts P?™**™* ver >’ ™spectful treatment add the marriage was a happy one' honors'and
indefinable impression that I was going to see 1™* * i klo . w ® ver > *\ waS eminently a emoluments fell thick uporAhe husband, the
the vomqi that I loved, and that for the last 7,0 conclusionth It empioyer came sons were brave and fortunate in marriage, the
time—one more- look at her face was the im 1 to conclusion that thar warn t no fight in - 1 - * • - • — e
—— - ‘him, and one bright morning set out to get rid
pression, «pd t u n—eternity! for I then dis
covered tuftt I had a pistol concealed within my
bosom and still the same indefinable impres
sion that it was 'or self-destruction. After trav
ersing many sjjifets, this same indefinable power \
ledme to a larg^oouse on the corner of Main '
I got home about dusk a few days after leaving 1 and Cross s^recy. I rang the bell, a servant
St. Louis, and while walking up the avanne to ! came to the rtdft. and I asked for the strange
the house, was surprised to see in my room a j } ad y wbc arrive^ the evening before. She was
bright cheerful fire. The evening was chilly and * n > 1 was shown into the parlor, and in a few'
the sight of the fire was quite a pleasure, but I I moments the lady canift. down. It was Laura, T i , . , ....
could not imagine what wonderful streak of and it ™ 8 not hir. She had Laura's hair, eves, 1 r „, .rl .'ir J° U ’ Slr ’ /°T n ot kiUing me
------ 1 * _ v . . ? • ’ iin verv muen oblicreci to von. itwipa/i nnrl with
of him. Never was the folly of reckoning with
out the host better exemplified. In ten minutes
from the first uncir! 1 word, F. was more than
master of the situaticn, and his ancient adver
sary in full retreat for the house. Arrived at the
| fence that bounded the field, he mounted it,
and pulling off his hat, shouted:
! “Mr. F , oh! Mr. F .”
j “What’s wanted, sir?’.’ responded F—, the
l imperturble.
thoughtfulness had come over Thomas, and made
him -look ont for my comfort in that manner.
Having telegraphed when I should be at home,
I was of course looked for, but it was unusual
for an old fellow like me to be cared for in that
face, form and complexion, but. not her wonmn-
ly, modest soul looking out of ber eyes. She
seemed to perfectly recognize me, however, al
though calling me by a strange name—Dvoll
Seveer, I think. I do not attempt to explain it—
daughters fair among fair women, while to the
Judge it seems “misfortunes came not singly.”
hollowing the loss of love vas the loss of for
tune, and with hope died ambition. Eschewing
politics and the society of his. equals, he retired
with a few old servants to a backwoods farm,
where in a log cabin, with a pack of fox hounds
for company, he lived a lonely bachelor, exereis-
ing in the arbitrament of disputes among his
humble neighbors judicial talent and honor
that, save for a woman’s fickleness, might have
adorned our highest tribunals.
Examples might be multiplied indefinitely.
I’m very much obliged to you, indeed,” and with but thoihereto 3S3t
a most profound bow the bruised veteran went the reality of romance. 8
to the house, and called to his wife: !
STORY OF A SEER.
way. However. I walked up my steps with all i* is beyond explanation—but I now felt for this
that quiet sense of ease and security that a man ! 'woman all the love and devotion which I had
has in a home of his own, unceremoniously j ^ or Laura—if there was any difference the love
opened my room door and walked in. A gentle- ! for this one was intensified. I had never dared
man rose to greet me. I looked up and to my . whisper my love before, but now it rolled in
utter amazement Reeves Lloyd stood before me. ; voluminous words from my lips. The more
I could not speak—sense was overcome; so cer- 1 earnest I became, the quieter was she; the more
tain was I that a veritable ghost stood before me, i vehement my protestations, the cooler she grew,
that it was not until Lloyd came up and forcibly j H er calmness frenzied me. I felt my blood be-
grasped me by the hand that I realized that it gi n to snrge like a boiling fluid in my veins,
was indeed my old-time friend that stood before | an< I the centre of the heat was that accursed
me. But there he was with a cheerful smile on temple spot. I tried to frighten her into a de-
his face.
“Polly ! Polly ! Stop every thing and get the
very finest dinner you can, and send for Mr. F.
to come and eat it. He has beat me most to
death, and if we don’t pacify him, there is no Once upon a time, away down in Georgia, a
knowing what he may do.” man planted a little seed.
Quite as eccentric as F.’s victim was his con- The sun shone warm upon it, and the rain
temporary, Mr. S. I believe it was Talleyrand i came and softened it, and it soon began to
who always asked “Who was she?” upon hear- i sprout. Day and night it grew, till it was high
ing of any trouble, in the conviction that there as a man’s head. Buds formed all over it, and
was always a woman at the bottom, and S.’s case
did not disprove the belief. A widower of forty,
he fell in love, as only widowers can, with a
young woman who, after a good deal of playing
last and loose, married another man and went
West to live. Twenty years after, the husband
me, joy in his voice, and the ninth anni- i claration that she loved me. but she was firm j died n <l the widow r 6 ,
ry of his birth safely passed. When I had ! a "d unyielding. Then a change came over my “ d ^ ite ,7-1" *7 ^
iently recovered my wits to frame an intel- thoughts; the old demand for blood was resumed i,,," , su ’ 1
versary
sufficiently recovered my
ligent phrase, my first words were to enquire of
Lloyd where he was from and how long he had
been at my house. He had been at my house
since the fourth of March, and had come directly
from St. Louis. As may easily be believed, the
latter part of this reply somewhat staggered me;
but when he learned that I was just from the
same city, he was about as badly puzzled as I had
been.
one night they burst into bloom. Beautiful
cream-colored flowers they were, something like
a morning-glory.
By noon the sun was too warm. The beauti
ful blossoms shut their leaves and hung their
heads, and before night each cream-colored
flower dropped oil'. Where each one had been
was a little germ.
This little green germ grew and grew till it
as I fumbled with the pistol concealed in mv f exa g enaria £ lover, who had bewept her faith-
bosom T knew mv life m lessness with many tears, and remained miracu- j was as big a « an egg, when it burst open and
which my old adversary, who now had posses- l0 " 8ly ? on f 8l f? t to .. ber "“constant memory. A j threw out a long beautiful fluff of cotton several
sion of mp .’.omnn,W ; renewal of Ins suit was clearly inevitable, and inches long.
another—that wal if T onnlrl a * tll0nE!, ] tcft ’? e the second wooing sped better than the first; so It was a cotton seed, of course,
woman in whose presence I was not tnTrik speedily the day was named, the feast set, and a j The man—a negro-came and tore the cotton
another to do so-tf she could noMm l-L? S1 8 ht to g lad(len tailor-eyes, our gentleman went from its ball, put it into a basket with others
to* Derm it her tobeanotberl T1p7 ' * merril ~ v to his "’edding. Just before the cere- like it, and carried it to a room where were
in wh^h to nr^ventTt and tWw a T t mon - v was told to "sign a legal document, ! hundreds of pounds of cotton. In the room
I Lloyd wait ontil after tapper to hear j her life before takrng an- owa. I reroTrrf tWa - ’‘“a s™*'tTilould “ak.^o’rtfawi? ■■ Xn'Stbre™'' “• toto ““ "* el "“ «“
the reason of my visit to St. Louis. That night, 1 through in my mind while pacing up and down. si<,n wiHinnt .purlin l ake for his wife. .. ' , . . ,, „
fi°r“ wSK^ipt inlull ! fuTwinfwX^cl^hTnTtV ^ "f/tt ^ 1 ^SnTth^jiamr ' V^wio^liWeIrf W the - are? toTt
ufi’ 7^ h 7°L P !5 e l I _ n 7! 1 L blaS x 0f C ? nrf,e V I t ?, ld I LTu b l 1 ^7^?, r iLl Ch i n l the , P1Sto, • J stopped gave the fair widow certain properties, which, they have no idea of leaving their comfortable
him the cause of my hurried departure for the > with a forced calmness before her, and asked a ^vinaccrued to him^ Horn ldT1.7’ lAVV t'x
city, and the results of that visit, omitting noth- final and favorable answer to my suit. It was l)( . Hahtfullv her children’s un t^kS v 1
ing which could have any interest for him. He j denied. Plucking the pistol from my bosom. I L n‘!,Zr’ " J J
listened with increasing interest to my narrative, fired upon her. She sank upon the floor. I the negative 8 and Mr S wrn/linm^o H Pte<1 ^
as I progressed. I watched him closely when I i fired upon her again. I saw her blood trickling £" Tema^nin^ dav^ a mi nose cr rlcl f
ciime to speak of the petite woman with brown | m pools at my feet, and placing the muzzle of whims and vimiries inn.in.Pv P .iiip f r f
hair and eyes, but he seemed to have no more j the pistol to my own temple, I pulled the trig- > lotted ti a1 nLTe sou ’
interest in her than if she had been a virago j ger, and all *as <Wk. ' ^ ^ Y
with red hair and redder eyes—evidently he had some^t^rrible dream. . -kess of firmness against woman s fascination j
„ A /Qfcfrirrfr some^tJjrrible dream, . , , , .
w w , no idea that it was his Laura who had been | and found myserf IplK? in the position in which ! La<1 widower, Mr. X who readily
length, I saw a familiar form come out the door j He heard me patiently through my rather I bad thrown myself after taking the morphine. a o ree< * pne 0 named by his inamorata for
of the Globe Hotel and go to the street. ’Twas prolix details, and then gave me an account of I f 0 lt the strange superstitious tremor we all surrender ot her freedom, though the thou-
Lloyd, and as he walked along, I had a pano- ! bis experiences on that day, which instead of ; f 00 l when awaking from a dreadful dream, but ® an< * s d 01 ^ n dea C0 st his family a delightful
ramie view, as it w r ere, of each street winch he elucidating the mysteries of this strange story, otherwise wMtas calm as refreshing sleep leaves ! b OI *J e » ^hieh passed into the hands of a well-to-
A 3 ▼▼ i. , intensified them. His recital of the events of R man, and realized that my struggle was over. d° / aimer » the father of a daughter rather pretty,
that day I give as near as possible in his own I don’t pretend to have any reason for thinking c | l ? 1 ^ e wetv h"h eat * e ci» and intensely sentimental.
so: I only felt it. I harl no idea of time, how" I AUe { some tlmo tber ° caine visiting the horne-
ever, only as the sun was a little higher in the I s t ea< I a cousin, out ot business—a bad, reckless
traversed. He never faltered, never stopped,
and my eyes were steadily upon him. After
many turnings to the right and to the left, I words:
saw him stop and look up at a four-story brick i “On the 1st of Febrnary I was in the far
house, on the corner of Main and Gross streets, j west, where I had been for some weeks, and, heaven than when
He went up the steps and rang the bell. A serv- • giving myself just time to reach you on the even- been asleep a few
ant came to the door, opened it. and he entered. | i"g of the 28th, I started east a few days there- it had stopped, and
I saw him walk into the drawing-room, seat him- ! after. Unexpected events delayed me to snch an , A hope rose within me that even the fatal day. .
self upon the sofa, and seem to await the en- j extent that the‘28th of February found mein St. had passed. I rushed to the window with the 1 stood, tue cousin-lover was sent packin
trance of some one. | Louis. Knowing fnll well the experiences of the j hope of finding something to confirm the im-
In a few moments, a lady, petite in stature, 1 J ” ”
home, and it’s very hard to get them out.
I’ll tell you how the machine does it. As the
cotton goes in it comes to a roller covered with
wire teeth. These teeth seize the cotton and
draw it through a sort of grating, so tine that
the seeds can't get through, so they just stay on
the outside.
As Uie roller goes round it comes to a brush
roller, which brushes off the cotton as nicely as.
any brush can do it. Then the cotton is pacjkeiF
in a bale, and sent to the cotton mills. -V
Now the cotton that came from the little seed
away off' in Georgia is by this time very dirty,
and what do yon suppose comes next? A bath ?
No; what’s good for boys isn’t so good for cot
ton. It gets —a beating. It is laid on a sort of
net-work and beaten with bundles of twigs.
The dirt falls through the net-work, and then
n I lay down. I thought T had I ™ an ’ ^ the '*1* that weak women adore. I th e C otton is ealled°“ battinR 11 ”^ 011
’ ‘T, I r k "? -! table.‘° VB ' “ from th“?,dt'm to
ml the hands pmnted^ to 7:15. | Wben the father found out how tbe matter don’t stop at batting. It is very fin<
and,
with brown eyes and brown hair, came into tbe
room. She greeted him pleasantly, and seated
herself on the sofa by him. I saw. as plainly as
I ever saw anything, that the old conflict was
raging within Lloyd. The blood-red spot npon
his temple fairly blazed; be was extremely nerv
ous, nnd it was impossible for him to keep still.
He would rise and stride aronnd the room, sit
past—and equally as w-ell that they would cer- ! pression, and a newsboy was passing under my
tainly occur the next day—I realized how im
prudent it would be for me to be on the road. I
reluctantly decided to remain in St. Louis until
the decisive day of my life hnd passed. I went
to the Globe Hotel about half-past six o’clock,
registered and shortly afterwards went to my
room—number thirty-six. My baggage had been
checked through, and I had nothing with me but
down again, only to spring up and continue his ! a little traveling bag, which contained, besides
tramp, tramp, tramp, about and around the room. ! a brush nnd comb, a small package of medicines
I noticed the lady; she seemed cool and collect- | with which I always travel, and a few toilet arti-
ed through it all. As his frenzy increased, her
self-control seemed to deepen. Llovd walked
ir • a _ i _ • i .
window- with “ HVre
March the first,” and
ing day had pass-'d, and that the victory was
won. for the twpnty-ninth of February, 1872, ‘
bad gone. My first thought then was of con- |
tinning my- interrupted journey as speedily as !
possible, and I commenced what little prepara
tion was necessary. While thus engaged. I j
heard the town clock strike nine, and knowing
I had barely time to get to tlie depot in time to j
catch the train, I went immediately into the
cles, my razors, etc. I was thoughtful enough street, hailed a cab, and was driven to the depot !
in preparing for the old struggle which I felt j just in the nick of time, and here I am safe and
approaching, to throw both my razors and poeket- sound, and to-morrow I start to see Laura.”
knife ont of the window, so as to have no offen- j In answer to a look of inquiry from me. he !
sive weapon about me. I remained in my room j told me that being delayed a few hours at Mont- j
nnd waited as quietly as possible for midnight, i gomery-, Ala., on his journey, he had taken that 1 f . . -
Promptly upon its arrival the old struggle com- | opportunity and written to Laura, making his I f s I Uen ’ .. s, J r V t , v ’ threatened with a heavy
himself into a demoniacal frenzy—nothing else
can describe it. His pace around the room was
interrupted now only- when he stopped before
the woman, and seemed to nddress her in a
pleading manner. He now began to thrust bis ... ... _______ ^
hand into bis bosom, and pluck it out as if it minced: my spirit against the foreign spirit—mv I long-delnved declaration, and asking her to re-
_ T ’- — ’ ’ will against the opposing will. More vividly ply to him in my care. The reply to this letter
than ever I felt the presence of my unseen per- | had reached him the evening before, and he
secutor—my spiritual adversary. The struggle i handed it to me for perusal. In a few words
telling about
stop at batting. It is very- fine and nice,
and it goes to the carding-maehine. This ma-
after long persuasion, the girl was induced to I ? pl \ ne a ^ ^' e threads one way by drawing
accept in his stead one of those solid men who j sets of wire teeth.
! It comes out on a roller, and is taken oft' by
1 still another roller, on which it looks like a
large fleecy ribbon. But it don’t keep that
pretty- look very long. It is drawn through a
1 funnel, which makes it small and much firmer.
It isn’t fine enough yet, however, and it goes
between another set of rollers. I wonder if
there’s anything that can’t be done with rollers?
When it comes out pressed quite firm it is
called roving, and is ready to be spun.
You’ll hardly- believe me, but the spir
done on a mule !
It’s a very peculiar mule, I must admit, made
of w-ood and iron, and carrying twenty-two
hundred spindles. So it spins twenty-two hun
dred threads at once, and is a wonderful ma
chine, if it has a funny name.
It spins tlie loose roving
e’s'your Daily Democrat of ' are th ? delight of all well-regulated parents.
11 knew then that mv try- I 1 1 w .° m ° bts b f oru ‘ b f wedding, all were shock
ed by a gun-shot at the window, and the bride-
expectant fell dead, with a bullet through her
breast. A note, by turns threatening and im
ploring, asking a clandestine meeting, was found
in her pocket, and pointed to the rejected lover
as the assassin. Ho was taken, tried and con
victed, but managed to escape, and now roams
the world a vagabond nnd felon.
After this bare record of villainy, which, if
elaborated into a story, would be termed in the
last degree sensational, it is pleasant to turn to
one of those incidents which show how the
innate honor and honesty of our poor humanity
crop out in unexpected places.
A sturdy old farmer through that bane of hon-
spinmn*:
contained a viper. Each time, however, be
seemed to pluck it out with incrensiDg reluc
tance. At length, he stopped before the woman,
and seemed to question her again: she shook
her bead in response, when he plucked his
hand from his bosom, nnd in it I saw the gleam
of a pistol barrel. Quick as thought he pointed
it toward her and fired. She sank upon the
floor at his feet; he fired upon her again, and I
saw the blood trickling upon the carpet. He
gazed an instant npon the min he had wrought,
placed the muzzle of the pistol to his head, fired,
and fell dead beside his victim.
I started to my feet with a cry. My dream—
clairvoyant vision, call it what you may—was
ended; but so deep and convincing was the im
pression it left upon me, that I did what some
may consider a foolish net. I went immediately
to the nearest station and telegraphed to the
chief of police in the city where the scene was
located, to retain the bodies in the house corner
of Main and Cross streets, where murder and
suicide had been committed, until I should
arrive for identification of them. I then pre
pared to follow my dispatch, which I did on the
first westward bound train.
Arriving at the city, I went, after a hasty
breakfast, immediately to police headquarters,
where the most polite attention was given me,
and a ready promise made to do anything in
their power to aid me, by the officers in charge.
I first went to the morgue, where the bodies
then were, to satisfy myself in regard to the
identification of Lloyd. I found the body in a
most life-like state of preservation, and had no
difficulty in identifying it. Hair light and wavy;
eye large and blue; form fragile and girlish, yet
covered with a network of muscles. I looked
for the spot on the temple, but the pistol shot
had taken effect in the temple, and the ball had
completely cutout the spot in its passage to the
brain. This then was the end. It had come as
he predicted, but with additional horror, as the
body of his victim, lying cold and stiff npon a
slab near his, testified.
I found at the hotel that he had registered
under tbo name of Dyoll Seveer, on the morn
ing of the 2!*th of February, having apparently
arrived on the morning train; that he had had
room number sixty-three assigned to him, and
been shown up to it; after which, he had not
erty so it can’t be touched, and let them whistle
was long and severe; through the entire night i she frankly acknowledged that she had long ‘ j°- r tb ®. nioney. No, not quite all. Iho one
‘ - loved him, and that pbe^felt nothing but joy to* dl . ssentlI1 g was hat of has oniy
I , J wise remarkable vnntVi u.-lin ■a-.ia
my eyes were never closed; my mind was never
into a much finer
burden of debt. He had warning of the corn- | thread, slightly twisted. This thread next runs
ing trouble, and friends and relatives all cried through a gas flame to burn off the little fuzz,
out, “It’s no just debt. Make over your prop- ! then over a brush to take off the ashes, and then
- through a hole in a brass plate jnst the size of
the thread.
Then it is wound in skeins, and put up in
son—a no
off the thoughts of blood—blood, blood, blood;
the porter’s, the clerk’s, the chambermaid’s, my
own—anybody’s blood would give me repose—
would ease the burning of tbe accursed temple
spot which, like a red-hot spindle, was burning
its way through my very brain. I felt that the
tension on my nerves was weakening, and that to old tradition, tlie curse or calamity had, by
know that her love liad not been given in vain. I ™ . r o e “ arkable y«"‘ b . who was generally ac- ; five or ten bundles.
The greater portion of the night was spent in co " nte , J , no 8^ eat sbakes ’ afte . r alb He said, I After all these travels, the thread has a little
speculations in regard to the strange events
which have just been recorded, but, of course.
relaxation must come—and with that relaxation
would come the loss of my power of resistance;
my will, I felt also, was growing less and less
“Let the land be. You promised to pay if the
other man didn’t, and you ought to do it. Keep
without results, for who can account for them ? ! you f. w ” rd a “ un , h “ m ' st lmu *> and 111 help you
I drew from Lloycfttbe fact that now. according ! work . through, but if you take any of them
i old tradition, the curse or calamity had, bv ! coverm ~"P tricks, 111 go away and never touch
the death of Dvoll Seveer, been removed forever ; ‘i 6 ™. of ,, mo " e J saves you.’ “Sheer
from the family, and he was correspondingly ( i ulxotlsu '- says loung America in scornful
— - - - ' accent. No, my inend, rather heroism that
happy. Who Dyoll Seveer was, or whether Llovd
able to cope with the demon will of the blood- : had ever known him or met him, or any of the
seeking, untiring existence which possessed me. ! familv, I had no means of finding ont. All
Finally, to snch a state was I reduced, that my ; that Lloyd would say on the subject was that I
mind reverted with something akin to pleasure 1 must content myself to remain satisfied with a
to self-destruction alone. Mechanically I opened i knowledge of the mysterious events, which
my traveling-bag for my razors, (as you know, ! were as mysterious in their workings to him as
they were not there), and while turning over the j to me. Not the least mysterious thing connected
contents of the bag my eyes fell npon the pack- | with the affair was the discovery made by me i
age of drugs, and as a drowning man willl catch | afterward that the name of the stranger suicide,
at a straw I caught at the word “Morphine” on j Dyoll Seveer, was that of Reeves Lloyd back-
one of the packages. A grain would perhaps 1 wards.
give me relief, would put me to sleep and then—
oblivion until the fatal day was passed and the
victory over the demoniacal existence won. I
grasped the vial as if it were my deliverer, and
with my gold pen—the only thing left with which
I could measure it—laid out upon a small piece
of paper about one grain of the deadly drug.
Then commenced another contest with the demon
will. If one grain would do me good would not
two. or three, or four, or five, or twenty, for that
matter, be better, suggested this diabolical spirit.
Thereupon I added another grain, then another,
and another, and another—one more couldn’t
change the effect but littie, and another went to
the amount now measured out, and which was
enough to kill a dozen men. With a mighty
effort, struggling with my strange advewary ail
the time for my very life, I put the whole back
into the vial. I measured out another grain; I
could not resist adding a second, and a third,
then a fourth—then, well, I know not how many;
I only know that the end was as before. I meas
ured ont grain by grain, returned to the vial, and
then re-measured that morphine it seems to me
a life-time. Finally, I measured out a single
Lloyd left my home the following day to go
to Laura, who is now Mrs. Reeves Lloyd.
[For The 8unny South.]
Betraying Guilt.
There is an opinion existing in the minds of
many people to this effect: That a person ac
cused of misdemeanor shows' guilt by blushing.
There wan never a more palpable error. Any
person ofuelieate sensibilities, wjien suddenly
accused mjustly, will inevitably redden from a
variety of causes—indignation, shame that he
should bethought capable of snch an act, etc.
Whereas, t person lost to all sense of shame,
when accrsed, will Y>ut on such a bold look, and
act so wel the part of injured innocence as will
cause you to regret even the suspicion. 1
Xenloo.
An Iowi postmaster spent a week in the vain
effort to balance nis accounts, when his wife,
discoverng what he was about, informed him
that she nad been in the habit of drawing her
“pin mmey” from the office funds. Tableau !
would have done credit to Sidney or Bayard. I
am happy to add that the “other man” was final
ly made to pay, and the farmer saved from ruin,
but if ho had been otherwise, the boy would
have kept his word.
I have heard Baron Oldenburg's protection
of Oswald Stein against the Jaiger nobility in
Problematic Characters characterized as “im
probable”—a charge that may be refuted by this
authentic incident. Years ago, during race week,
there came to a county town a gambler, who won
by his sheer skill and science, instead of the
usual tricks of his class. At the hotel with him
were a number of young men, the sons of rich
planters, all fond of gaming, with plentv of
money and unlimited self-confidence. By Sat
urday night all were “ dead broke,” save one,
the acknowledged leader of the set, by right of
larger brain, who had been throughout a laugh
ing looker-on at his comrades’ ill luck. Natural
ly, the young men were chagrined at their loss
es, and after supper, in the bar-room, the gam
bler found himself surrounded by a ring of
angry men, all demanding restitution of their
money, with plenty of leveled pistols to enforce
the demand. Thoroughly game, he had no
mind to yield, spite the odds agaiDst him, and
bloodshed seemed certain, when the gentleman
who had not lost by reason of not playing, step
ped into the ring. Linking his arm in the gam
bler’s, he showered on the men around a volley
of peppery abuse, beseeching them, to the folly
of losing, not to add the knavery of forcibly
taking back. Then to his companion: “ I think
you had better leave this place, but whoever mo
lests you in the next twelve hours will have to
rest before it starts through the last machine—
the one that makes the soft cotton into the solid
strong thread we buy on spools to sew with.
The skeins are wound on to bobbins, and put
on the machine. Six of the fine threads start
together.
Look on a spool, and you’ll read, “ Best six
cord cotton.” That means, as I said, that six of
these threads are united to make our sewing-
thread.
But I must tell you how they go. First over
a glass rod, and through a little trough of water;
then between rollers to press them tightly to
gether. Leaving the rollers, they go down,
twisting as they go, to where a spool is fastened.
There it is regularly wound on, a firm smooth
thread, while the spool moves slowly up and
down as it winds, so as to make layers of it.
Now the fruit of the little cotton seed has be
come a beautiful spool of thread, ready for a
useful life. Before it goes out into the world it
is ornamented at each end with a round paper,
gummed and stuck on by some child. The last
paper is put over the end of the thread to keep
it from getting loose, and then it is put into
packages of a dozen spools.
You’ve seen fine thread, perhaps as fine as No.
200, which we use on sewing machines, but what
would you say to thread No. 000, only one-third
the size of that ? And how would you like to
see that cobweb thread actually woven into lace ?
At the great exhibition in London such fine
lace was shown. And, almost as wonderful, a
piece of muslin woven of thread No. 470. It
was so delicate that when laid on the grass and
wet it could not be seen.
You know how large a roll of batting is.
Well, it can be stretched out so as be more than
ajthousand miles long. This is thread No. 2100.
It seems too wonderful to he trne, but many
fictions invented by poets and story-writers are
not half so wonderful as many common things
that every day pass under our observation."
Washington County Post.