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[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.