Newspaper Page Text
(For the Sunnv South.)
Cosmopolitan Stories;
—OH,—
UNDER SIX FLAGS.
BY O. A. E.
“Yes, Mrs. Blackburn," her maid quietly an
swered. “I am here to do your bidding, and I
hope I shall be able to give you satisfaction."
“Well, let us go there.”
Anne preceded her mistress to her private
parlor, the door of which she held open to her.
When they had entered, Mrs. Blackburn invited
“I was charmed with it," answered Mary.
“ I believe it is generally conceded that works
of this sort have reached a greater finish in
Paris than anywhere else.”
“Yes, I am sure that as far as arts, sciences
and general civilization are concerned, my be
loved native city is the queen of cities. But I
Anne to take a seat, and before long the two ' must beg your pardon beforehand for my enthu
wolfish, tigrish, full of discord, discontent and
bitterness, as the coarser nature strikes the all
too susceptible chords of self. It would be a
safe rule in life to dismiss any friend who has
not power to teach, improve and benefit, and to
steer clear of the callous and the coarse. She
went on a visit to New Orleans, and a pleasant
ated, and was admitted to practice at the bar;
at thirty-five was judge of the Supreme Bench,
and had been M. C. three times.
"Ida, I was another 1 woman’s brat’—a low
outcast and social rariah, and yet grandma made
my reformation a labor of love."
“Oh ! papa," cried Ida tearfully, “I thought
“After having reflected over it for some time,
the result waa that I burnt the half-finished let
ter and you became my wife. I will now try to
explain my idea to you.”
May commenced listening to him with great
attention.
“ My love for you," continued her husband,
“was so deep, and if I may say it that should
not, so unselfish, that it led me to regard your j
happiness paramount to all other considers- j
tions, and my own as a secondary matter; and
how could that happiness best be promoted ? I
Not by trapping you into a loveless marriage, j
certainly; but by procuring you an opportu- j
nity to mingle with people, study their ways,
and expand your magnificent mind by the I
knowledge of matters anil things in general nn- j
der the guidance of a friendly instructor, older |
and more experienced than yourself. I longed !
to be that devoted leader of your steps in the :
new road through life that I wished you to j
travel. But how was it to be accomplished ? If J
I had given to you my aid and protection while
being an unmarried young woman, evil tongues 1
would not have been wanting long, whose de- !
light it would have been to bespatter your pure
and unstained character with their venom. |
Against Dr. Blackburn’s wife, however, nobody |
could dare to whisper a suspicion; and so I !
threw our marriage vows as a powerful shield j
around your future life. Do you follow me, |
Mary ? ”
“Yes,” she answered, softly; but the expres- I
nion of close attention in her deep blue eyes was j
the best assurance.
"Under that iegis, I could pursue my plans j
for your welfare untrammeled; and now I will !
tell you what those plans are, and see if you ap- j
prove of them: I propose that you and I, in a ;
few days, when necessary matters have been ar
ranged, set out on our wedding tour. My idea
is that we remain for a while in several of the
principal countries in Europe, so as to give you
an opjmrtunity of gaining instruction from a
few chapters of that inexhaustible volume which
was published God alone knows where, and
whioh we call ‘ the world.’ But you must travel
as my niece, and not as m^ wife.”
"And why, Charles?” asked the young wo
man, timidly, the numb coolness in her heart
gradually dissolving before the fire of an in
creasing ouriosity.
"Because, as I mentioned before, your heart
might awake and fill with a rapturous attach
ment to some congenial being of the other sex,
and because I, in that case, would like you to
enjoy the liberty to follow your inclination, and
give your heart and hand to somebody who, un
like me, had succeeded in gaining the precious
gift of your affection, for which I have sighed in
vain.”
Mary sat staring at her husband as if petri
fied. At last she asked, in a trembling voice:
“ But, Charles, are not you and I married ?”
“Yes, nominally; for I consider a union
where heart does not sink into heart, and mind
amalgamate with mind, as a trifling coalition,
cemented only by an empty formula. Now, I
know that a woman like you only loves once in
her life; that her love is enduring, all-absorb
ing and unconquerable, and that such a love
must be crowned by a marriage in fact, and not
in name only, or else the happiness of its sub
ject is blasted forever. You would like to know
how such a union is to be effected with regard
young women were engaged in a conversation
that nobody who had chanced to hear it would \
have suspected of being held between a mistress
and her servant, for both were endowed with j
excellent good sense. Mary understood that j
nearly all the advantage she had over Anne,was ;
that she chanced to be Dr. Blackburn’s wife;
and though Anne, on her part, was aware that
the doctor had designated her more as a com
panion than a servant to his wife* yet she was j
very careful not to presume on her position, !
rendering in a cheerful and delicate manner the j
little services of which her mistress might stand j
in need, and thus all constraint between the 1
two was soon completely broken down.
They continued talking until late in the night j
about domestic matters and little incidents in 1
their lives, and it was with great pride and grat- *
ifieation that Mary listened to the warm enco
miums of her husband which came from her j
companion as often as he happened to form a j
subject of their conversation.
Contrary to all her fears and apprehensions, ;
Mary enjoyed a peaceful rest this first night in j
her new home, and awoke next morning re- I
freshed, happy and more blooming than ever. 1
She met her husband at breakfast. His man- i
ners towards her were gentle and attentive as
usual, their conversation flowed easy and unre- !
strained, and Mary felt an atmosphere of unde-
finable peace and serenity surrounding her in j
that large room, very different from that which
had almost stifled her the previous evening.
After breakfast the doctor went out, and Mary
spent the forenoon in company with Mrs. Brown j
and Anne, attending to domestic matters and ;
receiving instructions in the details of house ,
keeping from the kind-hearted and experienced 1
old lady. When the dinner hour approached, !
Mary’s interest in her new occupation and at- j
tachment to her well-regulated domicile had in- j
creased to such a degree that it was with a secret |
feeling of regret she thought of her eontem- j
plated wedding tour.
A few days afterwards Mrs. White, having in j
the meantime disposed of her shop, took pos
session of the apartments the doctor had fitted
up for her, and the uninterrupted glow of con
tentment that irradiated her mother’s face,caused
Mary to feel as if now nothing on earth was left
to her to wish for, except a feeling of love for
her husband. The want of that was the only
sombre cloud that darkened her life’s horizon.
As the time for the doctor's and his wife’s de
parture drew near, Mary's mother and Mrs.
Brown were busily engaged in making prepara
tions for that long journey, and so many things
were to be attended to, and so many matters to
be discussed, that time seemed to have taken
wings; and, before they were aware of it, the
day had come on which the grand wedding tour
was to commence.
On a clear and sunshiny May morning the
newly-married couple set out, attended by James
and Anne, and leaving the two old ladies with
full power to carry on the government of the
house till the return of the doctor and his wife,
which was to take place at some future time, not
definitely settled upon as yet,
siasm with regard to Paris, which I am sure you
will grant me, if you bear in mind that I have
been the favored object of the allurements and
good graces of this enchanting sovereign ever
since my childhood.”
“ Have you ever been in Eagland, Mr. Levas-
seur ?”
“ Once or twice."
“And what impression did my country make
j on you ?”
“Ah ! Mile. Blackburn, I found it a little too
foggy to be agreeable. And I must confess that
l I have had some difficulty in conceiving how a
! lady like you could have sprung from that misty
: isle. Y'ou are intelligent, spirituelle, and evi
dently intended to bloom under the genial sun-
rays of our beautiful France. Nature is a
; woman, and, lovely though she be, is apt to j
! allow her judgment to slumber sometimes, when ;
| under the influence of some of the ravishing !
j impulses to which her sex is now and then sub- |
j jected. I strongly suspect that it was in a mo-
i ment of such absent-mindedness that she al-
I lowed you to slip into existence in sober Albion,
I and thus deprived France of one of her loveli-
i Oft daughter.”
j “I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Levas-
i seur,” said Mary, smiling calmly, “for your
elaborate compliment, which you, of course, will
! permit me, being nothing but a simple English
i girl, to take with a grain of salt. I think France
I can very well sustain the loss of a person of my
i importance.”
“ Bnt do you not believe, really, my dear Mile.
| Blackburn, that you could lead a happier life
j here than across the channel ?”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
correspondence ensued, aDd on the Ides of No- i dear grandma was your own mother; but I will
vember Mr. Holmes went for his bride. Dinah,
an ancient negress who occupied the responsi- I
ble position of housekeeper, was telegraphed i
to get the house in readiness, and Master John
also, pending their arrival, and gleefully im- j
parted the information in this wise:
“ ‘Now you’ll git it, Marse John.' Can’t tell
love her better than ever now, because she wss
so brave and good, and only for her, the bright
est judge on the bench would have been lost to
the world.”
The door opened, and a stately old lady en
tered in rich black silk, with rioh lace ruffles at
the throat and falling over the small, snowy.
me 'bout stepmothers; I’ve seen ’em, I has; an’ I jeweled hands. Ida flew to her and hugged her
[For The Bunny South.]
THE STEP-MOTHER.
BY MBS. AMELIA
“ Children are like tooth-brushes—every one
wants their own papa, and I have no ambition
to be wet-nurse or nursery governess for another
woman’s brats. Dr Wylie is allyou say, I suppose
as men go,—he is personified perfection. Never
theless he must go elsewhere for a mother for his
children. That is my sole objection, hut it is
insurmountable.” And the speaker, a girl on
the shady side of twenty, rose from her seat, and
strolled to the piano and began playing low
symphonies as if to soothe her perturbed feel
ings.
Judge Dixmont laid down his paper, grave
and dissatisfied of face, saying:
“As a rule, the suitor whom tho parents con
sider particularly eligible, the child considers
peculiarly objectionable. Of all the men I know,
Dr. Wylie stands pre-eminent as a noble Christ
ian gentleman. He is talented and progressive,
has a large and lucrative practice, is popular
and handsome. The only drawback is two
little girls of two and four, whose very helpness-
ness and innocence would appeal strongly to
Their first destination was Paris, where the j any one’s sympathies. I will tell you a story,
doctor had an old friend, a French physician,
in whose family they were to remain for some
time, Blackburn having an insuperable aversion
to any kind of hotel life. After a short and
pleasant journey, Dr. and Miss Blackburn were
received in that friend's house with true French
cordiality and politeness, which made Mary feel
at home at once. The French doctor had two
Ida, and when it is done, if you still consider
the children an insurmountable objection, I will
never revert to the subject again.
“Once upon a time, thp're was a domestic
Eden, in a certain town in 'this State. The fa
mily consisted of father, mother and one child,
a boy of five. The mother was young, beautiful
and talented, a natural sunbeam, full of vivaci
to you ? I will tell you. As soon as you hare grown daughters, who vied with each other in J ty, and the admiration of aWjw-ho knew her, and
found an object worthy of your affection*, and ^ uking the 8 life G ’ f their Eng i isjh guest as agree- | her husband was idolatroSsly fond of her.
of whom I approve, I will fully disclose to him
the relation existing between you and me, pro
cure a divorce, and deliver you to him as spot
less as you were before our marriage to enjoy
the happiness I so warmly wish may fall to your
lot. Until that time arrives, you must look
upon me only as your guardian and dearest
friend on earth.”
Mary, without uttering a word, sat motionless
looking into the fire, a prey to the most con
flicting emotions, awakened by her husband’s
strange disclosure. This lofty disinterested
ness stunned her completely. She found her
self entirely unable to give the matter anything
like a calm consideration; and as the pro
tracted silence became painful to her, she at last
iSk d:
“But why did you take so much trouble to
arrange the house, if those were your inten
tions ? ”
“ That, Mary, is something I can hardly ex
plain to you. It was a whim, coupled, perhaps, j
with an indistinct hope that you might com- j
mence feeling a little kindlier towards me,view- j
ing what I had done as an expression of the I
tender solicitude of my loving heart. But when j
I observed how a dark gloom enveloped your ;
mind after having taken possession of your new i
domicile, my floating expectations vanished j
like a dissolving mist, and I resolved to adhere i
to my original plans. Now, it remains for you ;
to tell me what you think of all this.”
The young wife reflected a long time, for her !
position was so novel that she found it no easy j
task to obtain a clear view of it. The first effect 1
of her husband’s communication, however, was
to clear away the oppressiveness and unpleas
ant, shadowy anticipations that had hung
around her until he commenced explaining his
intentions. She now began to feel as if she had
found shelter in a safe harbor against a threat
ening storm, and that feeling aided her materi
ally in composing her mind and giving solidity
to her ruminations. When she at last had come
to a conclusion, she lifted her limpid blue eyes
to her husband’s grave countenance, and said
in a tone that sounded as if it rose from the very
bottom of her heart:
“Charles, I steadfastly believe that you are j
the noblest man God ever created. Do with me j
as you will; you know best what is good for us.” j
Over the doctor’s serious features there flashed j
a gleam of satisfaction at his wife’s candid words. !
He thanked her for the reliance upon him which i sebi,ea -
she had manifested. Before long their conver- j
sation assumed the easy, unembarrassed flow it j
had had when carried on in the back room of j
Mrs. White’s shop, and in a short time Mary j
felt as if she had lived in her securely sheltered j
home for months. j
Thus they talked together till the clock struck ;
eleven, when the doctor rose and said>
“I will now withdraw to my sanctum across !
the passage and leave you to rest, as you must ;
feel somewhat fatigued after the events of this
day. liinw for Anne when you wish to retire, j
anil she will conduct you to your rooms. You
able as possible, and in aiding her to perfect
her somewhat deficient knowledge of the French
language.
Mary employed one or two hours every morn
ing in studying, assisted by her husband, after
which they generally rode out and visited art
galleries, libraries and other places where in
struction and pleasure were to be obtained.
The doctor furnished her with scraps of history
or anecdote connected with all the places worthy
of notiee to which they went, so that Mary had
a very agreeable and practical course in French
history, under her faithful and able instructor.
Sometimes they drove around the Champs
Elysees, or in the BoisdeBoulogne, in company
with the young ladies of the house, and here
Mary had a fine opportunity to study Parisian
life in all its glittering brilliancy. Their even
ings were mostly spent at operas, concerts or
private parties, and sometimes, although more
rarely, in the refined family circle of their host.
During the first period of her life in the
French capital, Mary had evinced a certain shy
ness and diffidence, for it was no easy task for
an Englrsh shop-girl to know how to demean
herself when suddenly transplanted from a back
street in London to one of the most fashionable
quarters in Paris. But her excellent common
sense and keen power of observation, in con
nection with her consciousness of having such a
defender at her back as her husband, soon set
her at ease, and in a short time the amiable
English lady was looked upon with an uncom-
Where ever these rare unions exist, death may
be safely predicted standing near, sceptre in
hand.
“The yellow fever swept through the town;
the brazen demon that destroys so many fair
homes, and all that was left of her was her wed
ding dress, her jewels and tiny slippers, over
which the crazy husband bended for hours. In
his grief he forgot his little son, as his mother
would never have done, and the child would
steal softly up stairs and peep in at Ms father,
who, with bowed head and aching heart, sat in
the room where she died, bathed in the weird
moonlight, and oblivious of all around him.
“So he sat for months, till grief had become
disease. Grief is the least liberal and most
selfish of our emotions, and the pain is the
personal suffering the loss occasions. We shall
be lonely, miserable, uncared-for. 'No one will
care specially for our comfort, or study our hap
piness. No one will miss us when absent, and
long and watch hungrily for our return. The
first person is paramount in grief, and Mr.
Holmes, blind to a sense of his parental respon
sibility, bestowed no thought upon the child
who naturally gravitated to the kitchen. The
African race have had superior advantages in
the shape of moral instruction and churches
from time immemorial in the South; but they
remain as uncivilized and beastly to-day as
their cousins in African solitudes. Under such
educators, John Holmes at eight was notorious,
a little swearing ruffian, who was the terror of
mon degree of interest by the limited social cir- | the town children. Once in awhile Mr. Holmes
cle in which she moved. If now and then a j woke up and gave him a terrible cowhiding;
slight touch of gancherie was perceptible in her,
it was considered as an English peculiarity, and
accounted for by the embarrassment that natu
rally must arise from her not yet having suffi
ciently mastered the French language.
But those slight touches of awkwardness were
soon entirely polished off, as Mary had made it
her particular study to derive benefit from the
advantages that the mingling in polite society
offered her, and thereby to show her gratitude
for her husband’s magnanimous generosity
towards her. Soon she had become the belle of
her circle, and the flattering attentions which
the elegant young Parisians paid to the rich and
beautiful English lady, would have been enough
to turn the head of anybody with less strong
nerves and clear sense than she fortunately pos-
but it was productive of no good, and did not
arrest him an instant in his headlong career to
destruction. One day, an indignant neighbor
presented a heavy bill for a fine French-plate
show-case which Master John had broken, and
a council of exasperated and long-suffering citi
zens regularly impeached the boy, in his
father’s presence, of sundry high crimes and
misdemeanors. The poor father's eyes sud
denly opened to the enormity of his own con
duct, the culpable neglect which had ruined
the gentle and innocent child his dying wife
had commended with tears to his charge; and
John, who confidently expected an unmerciful
whipping, stood aghast when his father leant
his sorrowful head on the table, and cried:
“‘I don’t know what to do with him,’ he
wailed in the bitterness of his heart. ‘ Oh !
Lilly, if you could see the boy you were
Among those who paid her particular homage, _ „
were two gentlemen of very dissimilar charac- I proud of once, and who was to be judge and
ter. Mr. Levasseur, handsome, witty and lively, j president some day !’
a f fLn unwnlaoo foaninofimv ! * * * Taocfin *c nmo hrirrllf
need have no reserve in talking to her, as both I some Englishwoman, to judge from the constant
he and her mother are fully aware of all our 1 and assiduous attentions they showed her on
plans and proceedings. And now, dear Mary,
good night, and God bless you.”
And with a warm pressure of her hand, the
doctor left her.
He adjourned to his old retreat in his office,
where he remained for a while indulging in
pleasant reflections over the smooth course af
fairs seemed to take, after which he took his
Marry,’ suggested Eeason, ‘some bright,
clear-headed woman—a widow, large-hearted,
sympathetic and humane. Having children,
she will bring valuable experience into the
management of child and household.’
"‘But John is notorious,’ he remonstrated;
“ no woman in her senses would undertake such
a Herculean task.’
“ ‘Try Mrs. Clarke,’ suggested the good angel.
‘ She is like oxygen and sunshine, and possesses
great administrative ability—a natural ruler, as
others are natural poets or painters.’
“Sunday came, and Mr. Holmes went to
church, for the first time in three years, and es
corted Mrs. Clarke home, asking and receiving
permission to call again. She had bewitched
him in the ten minutes walk from church. Her
very laugh was infectious, and she had the rare _ ^
tact to draw out the best in each. She soothed i gardens and halis. Ah! the grand secret is
doctor’s house, d aring the progress of which he , and strengthened him. When he went to church, j this: make the evil happy, and you make them
was a perfect type of the careless, fascinating
and graceful Parisian; whereas, Mr. Pichegru,
on the contrary, with his melancholy, almost
morose expression of countenance, poetical turn
of conversation and languid movements, repre
sented a class of individuals not often to be
found in the gay capital of “ the great nation.”
Now, strange to say, these two men of so differ
ent a mental constitution seemed to have been
hopelessly smitten by the charms of the hand-
every occasion. They had managed to be intro
| duced into the French physician’s family, and
became, after awhile, the most frequent visitors
! to his house.
One evening, after having heard a new opera
' with Dr. Blackburn, his host and the ladies,
i Levasseur was invited to supper at the French i
dat woman yer pa done married is noted for her
strictness. She'll lift yer ha’r, I tell you ! Oh !
Lord, bnt she’ll fan you with a fence-rail! Enty
I done tole you your pa would marry some day.
Bnt I’m sorry for you, po’ chile!. Sure, don’t
tell her I said anythin’ agin her, ’cause I didn’t;
I’m comprehendin’ stepmothers generally.’ Sh6
breaks out singing:
“ Oh ! de day am a cornin’ when we'll go home,
Jews screws de fidum !
An' eat pies an’ cakss by de great white throne,
Jews screws de fidnm!"
“ Mass John, is you gwine to hab on your
clean olosaan’ git washed ? Y'ou aint 'i Well,
it’ll be a sorry day for yon when de bride gits
yah, an' yon lookin like po white folks' Chilian.
Yon yer my miration, John Holmes?”
John swears and throws the hatchet at her,
hoping it will strike her; and dirty and forlorn,
with a fierce sense of injustice in his breast, he
wends his way down to the wharf, unheeding
the pitiless sleet A blue norther is blowing—a
norther deeply, darkly, horribly blue, and' the
tears that well up from their founts hot, freeze
as they fall from his rounded cheek. The wharf
is deserted, and the wind, aoming over the tur
bulent bay, is keen as a newly-ground knife.
He crouches on the south side of a building and
waits. The steamer is due. He glances toward
the Loads, and there she is, the Mexico, rocking
in the harbor, and soon the dreaded step-moth
er, with whom it will be war to the knife and
the knife to the hilt, will be the presiding
divinity of the only place he can call home.
Drays rattle along the strand and out upon the
wharf, the drivers with red noses and gloved
hands, their mouths converted into miniature
smoke-stacks, and some of them curse the
weather as they pass the wretched child. It is
strange, but when man, woman or child are in
trouble—in deep, scathing trouble—surround
ings impress themselves upon the mind, even
to the minutest detail, forming, as it were, a
picture Kembrandtian in light and shade and
bold in prospective. John sees here and there
a broken plank, and wonders why it is not re
paired; then his desolate eyes fall on a crab,
who, regardless of the day, is probably going to
see a particular friend. He glanoes again at the
steamer. The cannon is fired, and she touches
the wharf. He sees his father hand a lady into
the rockaway; afterwards a little curly-haired
boy of three, and with a child's unerring per
ceptions, divines her character. It is a pleas
ant, genial face, but firm as adamant. He rises
and looks over the gray waste of waters, solemn
as sleep in death, and exclaims:
“It can’t be no worse, anyway," and the ten
der God looked pityingly on the small misan
thrope, with his heart, that should have been
as stainless as snowy fleece, scarlet with sin.
He reaches home and darts into the parlor
and creeps under the sofa. The room is cheer
ful and bright, with that best of all furniture in
bitter weather, a big fire. Soon his father and
mother enter. Says the lady:
“I shall send one of the servants to find John.
This is no day for a little child to be out-doors.”
“ The negroes say he is particularly fractions
to-day,” Mr. Holmes answers. “ My dear, I am
afraid John will give you a great deal of trouble.
I have whipped him till I had to give it up in
despair.”
“I do not believe in whipping," replies Mrs.
Holmes dryly, “and shall try moral suasion.
Any sensible child can be governed without [
blows.”
“I wonder what moral suasion is ?” queried
Master John. “If I hadn’t played hookey so
much I’d know. Catch me wasting time that
away again.”
They leave the room, and John follows in a
little while, and stands boldly on the threshold
of the dining-room. His bold, bright, black
eyes are redolent of defiance, but when the lady
rises and kisses him and leads him to the fire and
actually holds him on her lap, it recalls the fair
young mother for whom his child heart is still j
sore, who was rudely snatched from him never I
more to return, and though he makes a brave j
effort to keep back his tears—he who would not 1
cry when, in his bitter and almost daily fights, I
handfuls of hair is torn out of his head—breaks |
quite down and cries; and through his blurred j
eyes he sees the little child he saw in his fath- ;
er’s arms draw near and say sweetly:
“Is it my little brother, mama?”
“Yes,” answers Mrs. Holmes. “And, John, i
when Willie is with you I want to feel perfectly
safe and secure in the belief that you will not i
let him hear bad words or let him get hurt. I j
want to be proud of my two boys when they are I
men.”
“ A step-mother talking like that! Too good !
to hold out,” whispered the evil nature.
But as weeks wore on and it was proved that j
she was not only wise, but good, John’s nature be- j
gan to radically change. She was a fairy as po- I
tent as Queen Mab, and beauty and order sprang i
up in her footsteps. The house was refurnished j
and a beautiful and handsomely-furnished room !
assigned to John. The grounds were laid off !
tastefully—rustic seats and urns and statuary j
introduced. The walls of his room were hung j
with chromos rich in bright colors, and vases i
filled with flowers were daily placed upon his i
mantel. “Anything is good enough for a boy,” •
is the common exclamation. Well, it is, if j
you want to animalize him—not unless. If you j
want him to be high-toned, gentlemanly, re- ;
fined, let his surroundings be perfectly refined, j
the refinement extending clear through from j
surroundings to act and utterance. He saw that j
he was coarse and rude, with a sense of humili- J
ation, and strove to get rid of his kitchen habits J
and conversation. Once he forgot himself and i
swore in her presence, and the trouble her eyes |
expressed smote him with keen pain.
Well dressed, well fed, taught to consider j
himself a boy who would some day be a leader j
among men, the angles rounded beautifully.
He began to learn rapidly, and acquired, in j
place of the bold effrontery, a graceful self-pos- ;
session and self-respect, without which no man
or woman can be a success. Theoretical humil
ity is beautiful, and exalts while it abases; prac
tical humility, a sense of utter unworthiness,
will make and keep a man a clod for others to
walk upon. It il as important to aspire as it is
to respire, and we, who hate a dog if it cringes,
have little patience with the Uriah Heepish
trait, of whioh there is quite too much in this
old world of ours.
Mr. Holmes looked proudly at his wife as his
reconstructed son bore off prize after prize at
school and his merry soDgs rang through the
roughly, crying:
i “ Oh ! you dear old precious grandma ! Papa
has been telling me what you have been to
j him.”
I The lady dropped her hands on the black
| hair of her stalwart son.
“ My son, you should have waited till I was
! gone ere telling that story. But,” smilingly,
j “ he was too modest to tell yon, Ida, that it was
a flue nature all run to weeds, and the weeds
j had so little root that a touch drew them up,
and in their place sprang up a rare flower. He
i gave me no trouble. Take any child and place
i it among educated, refined, bright people, and
j it will be all the most fastidious can desire.”
Says Ida presently:
“Papa, I have reconsidered my decision. I
am sorry for Dr. Wylie's motherless children,
and will try to be as good a mother to them as
grandma was to you.”
And ere he could frame a reply, she slipped
from the room.
•Jews crucified him.
ENIGMAS, PUZZLES, ETC.
All mall for this department most be addressed to
j “ Puzzle Department,” Sunny Bouts, Atlanta, Georgia.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES, ETC., IN 92.
I No. 1—Diamond Puzzle:
P
PIT
NICHE
PICTUK8
MOUSE
WHY
E
No. 2—Decapitation: Flea—lea. Ox—x (10).
No. 3—Problem: A. 5 35-25; B. 13 27-11. and C 30 20-41
miles. Time, 10 5-11 hours.
No. 1—Enigma: Nora Burks.
No. 5—Enigma: Mary Theodosia Moore.
to oub puzzlers.
B. M. Harden, Calhoun, Ga., answers Noe. 1 and 5 cor
rectly.
Maggie P. Harrell, Straaburg, Ala., answers Nos. 3, 1
and 5 correctly.
Cbas. E. Larndin, Barnesville, Ga., answers Problem
No. 3.
“A,” Acworth, Ga., answers No. 5.
R. H. Davis, Brlstoe, Va., auswers Nos. 1 and 5.
J. W. Parker, Richmond, Va., answers No. 5.
“ Phoebe,” Richmond, Va., answers Nos. 2, 1 and S.
Mattie Thomas, Atlanta, Ga., answers Nos. 1 and 5.
Willie A. Baines, Danville, Va., answers Nos. 2, 4 and 5.
” Carl Bertie,” Marietta, Ga., auswers Nos. 2,1 and 3.
William Ballard, Norfolk, Va., box 581, answers No. 5,
and wants more information about the lady.
Arthur J. Henry, Lake City, Fla., answers No. 5 oor-
rectly, and claims the prize—the love of s© young lady.
Nora Burks, Liberty, Va., takes the rty of sending
her own name answer to No. 4; also, correct solutions to
Nos. 2 and 5.
NEW PUZZLES AND ENIGMAS.
No. 1—Decapitation.
Behead an animal and leave a delicate organ.
Behead a vegetable and leave a drink,
” Maikiis.”
No. 2—Charade.
(To A. A. E.)
Two syllables compose my whole.
Second and whole are made
For first, and in a Christian land
In savage style displayed.
Firtt, part of animal and plant;
Of plant, 'tis sweetest fresh.
Second Is bottomless; oft made
To till with human flesh.
Second is messenger to firtt.
Telling of danger near;
The harbinger of joy and love—
Renews the mourner's tear.
Firtt found on earth; second on earth
And in the sky is shown;
With one smart rap upon my firtt.
My whole is quickly known.
Zokomoree, Atlanta, Oa.
No. 3—Puzzle.
(Inscribed to E E .)
My first pertains to value,
As you can plainly see;
My second then, without mistake,
A relative must be.
My third, it is a something which
From some you ne'er find out;
First and second, with nothing between.
You’ve oft heard speak, no doubt.
The whole of this will name a place
Where first and second dwell;
So call your wits together—
The answer to me tell.
For the first correct solution
(Now, “Misses,” please attend)
From a “sweet lass” under nineteen,
“ Dennis Duval ” I’ll send.
Make no mistake in sending it;
And please address the letter.
With exact age therein enclosed.
To ” Crab,” Hampton, Virginia.
No. 4—Charade.
If what old Darwin has written
Be not altogether untrue,
Mj firtt was great grand-father, •
Dear reader, to me and to you.
My tecond, were I passing through
'Neath a calm and cloudless sky;
There, should I meet a lovely lassie.
And should Bhe kiss me, should'I ary ?
Beneath the roof of my third I trust
Some darling sweet creature and me.
As the years, like sunbeams, vanish,
Shall live contented and free.
My whole is a sort of plum-lika fruit,
That anybody’s palate, I judge, will suit.
J. P. Hart, Ark.
No. •—Word Square.
My first after the water brook
Panteth with raging thirst;
My third, he does, whom heartless Fate
With madness has accurst.
My tecond conveys an idea—
A faint one 'tis, indeed—
Where the stars so brightly twinkle;
My fourth Is not a slim reed.
P. H. Hart, Ark.
No. 6—Enigma.
I am composed of twenty-one letters.
My 7, 2, 3,11. is what we should all strive to be.
My 12,16, 4, 19, is a girl’s name.
My 5, 14, 20, is a kind of fish.
My 1, 2, 20, 20. 11, 15, is an occupa;iou.
My 12, 16,1, 18, is a city in Georgia.
My 6,8. 1. 13, 2, 12, 14 is a species of bat.
My 9, 21. 10. 14, is a body of water.
My 20, 16,17.17, 8, is a popular little actresB.
My whole is the name and address of a young lady who
will send her photo to the first young gent sending cor
rect solution,
Iudqd as usual and retired up the spiral stairs to and Mary happened to be seated at a small side-| fie did not see that he was walking through J good. Pain and distress, dearth of comfort,
his bed-room where he soon slept the sleep of ! table in a corner of the salon, all by themselves. | sunshine; at leaving her, he wondered at the j makes demurs; comfort, surcease of care and
SirirtV* nnnnrtviTiifina fVlft U TAY* 1 . r Kf 1 V* I** rATifll TTi O : C7 01 l l P TV (t] fUT QT1 VkPU.nf.N7 flf f .Vk ft cl'T Si i) ft WOO fr» 1 trrtnKlft maVfta Q rt ffftl C • Q T1 f 1 O rl xrftYlZ i * rr rwolr-fta
the just.
His wife remained for a good while musing in
her new elegant parlor; then she rang for Anne,
who instantly appeared.
“Anne,” she said with a kind smile, “the
.doctor told me you would accompany me to my
Such opportunities the sprigfitly Frenchman
always tried to improve, and he and Mary soon
became engaged in a lively conversation.
“How did the performance of the evening
please you. Mile. Blackburn ?” he asked, after a
few preliminary remarks had passed between
them.
golden glow and beauty of the sky. She was to
his mind what iron and strychnia are to the
nervons system. Some people draw out the
J good that is in ns, and elevate; others weaken
i and depress, where they do not actually degrade,
j We feel like purring softly under the benign,
| refined, silky influence of this one; and we are i
trouble makes angels; and adversity makes
many a bad man or woman who, under happier
auspices, would be pure and sweet.
For Mrs. Holmes, John entertained a love
that could neither be estimated, weighed nor
guaged, while her child was his idol. So the
happy years wore on. At twenty-one he gradu-
Be a Man.—Foolish spending is the father of
poverty. Do not be ashamed of hard w»rk. Work
for the best salary of wages you can gei, but work
tor half price rather than be idle. Be your own
master, and do not let society or fashion swallow
you up individually—hat, coat and boots. Do not
eat up or wear out all that you can earn. Compel
your selfish body to spare something for profits
saved. Be stingy to your own appetite, but mer
ciful to others’ necessities. Help others, and ask
no help for yourselves. See that you are proud,
too. Let your pride be of the right kind. Be too
proud to be lazy ; too proud to give up
conquering every difficulty.
INSTINCT PRINT