Newspaper Page Text
[Continued from lBt page,
liness. “Just to think,” he muttered, “of this
ephemeral creature, cut off from the world, wear
ing out her life in toil and privation-with no
body to look to or depend on. By George ! it
is enough to make a fellow sick to think of it.
But for her eyes, I would think she could not
be more than twenty—but no, she knows too
much of life; she must be older than that. By
Jove' i don’t believe I ever felt before towards
any woman as I do her—but, of course, it is not
love—that is, not to hurt—but as for her—yes—
undoubtedly—well-but what isto be aone?”
No creature in the air answered the conundrum,
and he went on as if no answer was necessary,
dreaming of her by night, and waking up to
long delicious days. He helped her every way—
“superintended her work” he said, sent her pa
pers, read aloud to her that exquisite book Com
pensation, and almost trembled when he thought
how she might live Marie Merle's life over again
in her solitude and isolation. He was so
thoughtlul and gentle—Marion had not met so
pleasant a friend for a long, long time. But in
proportion as he grew more thoughtful of her,
beseemed to grow less so of others. It is true
Henry Nelson received an occasional letter,
full of the plainest confessions and avowals—
avowals which made him expect serious devel-
opements, ere long—but “M. M." had received
her last letter many week’s before, and had pass
ed like a morning cloud out of his mind. His
thoughtfulness suggested the necessity of air
and recreation, and everyday found them when
the morning’s work was done, hunting flowers
and ferns, and mosses, or taking twilight walks
on the long strand close to the foamy surge.
He was happy, charmed; life was as sweet as
a soft low song set to sweet music—but he must
break it up. His late experience had taught
him too solemn a lesson to be altogether un
heeded. He had hardly felt a thrill of pride—
indeed he had folt almost humble, when he
wrote to Henry Nelson, “I am misconstrued
again. My heart trembles. Must every little
kindness be misinterpreted?”
Then they must part. How tranquilly, nay,
blissfully the summer days were passing, but
the word must be spoken that will snap the sil
ver ehord.
He called on a sweet bright day, to say that
fatal word good-bye—a little pale, and just a
wee-bit trembling perhaps. To break an en
chanting dream for plain, matter-of-fact reality,
at all times costs a pang, and no human being
not absolutely lost to feeling, has ever yet cast
aside a heart that cherished him, without a
sense of pain, and an anxious foreboding lest
the future should not hold this boon for him
again.
But Arthur had ‘screwed his courage to the
sticking place.’ and in spite of every obstacle,
he had resolved to act as a man of honor should.
So he had written Nelson.
Marion was surprised and startled at his sud
den determination to leave; only she was a per
son of no ordinary self-control. She certainly
did not express all that she felt, but she plead
ed gently for a delay of a day or two. To-mor
row, a former pastor and dear friend, she said,
would be with her, and it would be so pleasant
for her to introduce them.’ Was he quite sure
he did not need a little evangelizing?
‘Poor little heart! Any excuse to prolong the
present,’ thought Arthur, as he pressed her
hands closely for a moment, and then was gone.
Late on the same evening, as he was passing
out to the village where he would spend the
night so as to take the morning train, he was
attracted by a crowd which had gathered from
about the house, around something lying on
the grass in the yard near the gate. A few steps
brought him to the spot, where he beheld
Marion AnnandMe white, motionless—dead!
Ais heart smote him like a flash of lightning.
Was this another victim ! He dared not stop,
but hurried on, leaving the spot as reiaorseful
as another Cain.
So Marion Annandale has melted away like
the sea fjam—or like the mist of the mountain,
or as a pure, white dream that had hovored for
a moment over ‘ a darkened and devious spirit,’
gone !
CHAPTER. III.
THE COBRA.
Behold Arthur Williams the centre of attrac
tion at the most fashionable watering place in
America. Good Heavens! what rattling and
dancing, and dashing, and flirting !
I declare no body could be miserable there,
unless he brought the wretched skeleton with
him. And this I know, that mornings filled j
with rides on prancing, chargers, and drives, j
and rambles, and promenades, and tete-a-tetes
on rustic seats in shady grounds—and afternoons j
given over to ten-pins, and billiards, and post- I
prandial naps, and gentle dozes over fair ro- j
mnnces,—and evenings in the ball room, with
its thousand glancing lights, intoxicating per
fumes. fairy costumes, its hosts of radiant faces
and starry eyes, the multitudinous hum of sil
very voices, long mirrors duplicating without
ceasing the countless enchantments and splen
dors, flashing gems and gorgeously tinted flow
ers fresh from natures hand, or her cunningest
imitators, and the swift w hirls of the giddy dan
cers keeping in harmony with the flood of music
that pulses on the perlume-laden air,—have a
great and wonderlul power in commending to
the expanded senses the glow and graces of the
world around us. It is a bewildering and ii-
sidious enchantment that cannot be analyzed,
and is therefore, most hard to fight against.
Life is lovely and almost complete.
Arthur found himself on the first evening of
his arrival, the handsomest man, and the best
and fastest dancer in tbe room, and it was not
long before he was presented to Lizzie John
ston, the beauty and belle of that summer. She
was of the queenly style of beauty, possessed of
high cultivation and unusual accomplishments.
On that evening, as always, her toilet was a
master-piece of taste. Her dark hair and eyes
and the aristocratic whiteness of her complex
ion, were finely set off by a flowing dress of
black lace vandyked with scarlet geraniums.
Her swan-like neck was without an ornament,
her arms like mother-of-pearl and models for a
sculptor, unrelieved except by one broad band
of woven gold. On her bosom—from the edge
of a bodice extremely decollette—trailed a grace
ful bunch of scarlet flowers. Her taste in dress
ing was for her style always perfect—’though
gorgeous and glowing—which seemed yet to
comport well with her languishing walk, her air
of effeminacy, and the imperturbable composure
of her face. No woman there had such a repu
tation for power to kindle the grand passion.
She had undoubtedly brilliant talents, and not
able tact, and played them off to great advan-
tage.
From the first moment of their acquaintance
her eyes sought Arthur’s, and followed him as
the needle does the pole.
“The moon-land trembled,
When earth's son went
To the steel-gloved contest.”
Arthur was a little shy at first, but she was
resolved to overcome his repugnance, and he
was forced by politeness to meet her halfway in
her agreeable and unexpected advances. Before
he understood how or why, he found himself
dancing constantly with her, and saw her with
out regrets or excuses breaking her engagements
with others, that she might monopolize him.
His face flushed and his eyes sparkled as vanity
began to whisper her Bweet deceits in his ear.
When at length she complained of tbe heat of
the room and proposed a promenade in the
mocnlight and open air—he felt like a man
drifting slowly ofl, to the enchanted islands—
and so indeed he was.
I said she had brilliant talents. In conversa
tional power she has been rarely equaled—not
merely a machine for turning ont words, or an
arsenal of interjections and exclamations, but a
quick, sympathetic, sparkling talker—wonder
ful at repartee—but a good listener with all,
with the sunniest smiles and the sweetest shad
ows ready at command.
Arthur was considerably interested in the con
versation that night, but it so happened that
she had to stop at the most interesting point.
Surely she did not think at the time that he
would seek a renewal—but he did the next day,
and there never was an end to the renewals.
Later in the morning he found her at the piano.
He had always been much moved by the con
cords of sweet sounds, from which it may be in
ferred that he was fit for neither stratagem or
treasons. She glanced up gayily at him as he
came near, and completing the piece with a
thundering crash, rose from the seat. He inter
posed.
‘Pray go on. I cannot live without mnsio,
and came in specially to hear yon.’
‘Not just now !'
‘Now, and forever. Ton do not know the
needs of my immortal soul.’
‘I will play then this trio from Fesca—not for
yonr immortal soul, mind you ! but for my—
my own heart.'
And she did. Of course there was no missy-
ism about Miss Johnston. She disdained the
stereotyped excuses of a bad cold, and being out
es—the same minute but not-to-be-mistaken ev
idence of preference and regard—the kindling
of the eye at his coming, the sportive demands
of service and devotion, and tbe half confessions
which every entrapped dunce had magnified in
to whole ones.
The opening clause of the wary Henry Nelson’s
last letter had been—‘Hello, old fellow—a dan
gerous man may sometimes be in danger'—which
was not elegant, but perfectly true.
The supreme moment came at last. It was
twilight—the day had been soft, beautiful, rosy
—the very air amorous, filled with murmurous
tones but faintly beard, as if a whole choir was
hovering high in the air—or was it the rustle of
wings—moving away!
He took the little hand in his. There was no
effort to withdraw it and she lifted her love-
freighted eyes to his where he saw their wild
fire melting into dark mist. There was in them
that same pleading, wistful, longing look. I think
it was a long silence that followed, or it might
have been only an instant. Time has nothing
to do with those tumultuous momemts of life,
and so discreetly shoulders his scythe, and
passes by on the farther side.
She bowed her face nearer—very near to his
bosom—in the summer twilight that was creep
ing on. The stillness was entrancing. He feared
to speak lest he should break the charm, and
she should move away, and be lost to him
forever.
‘I have a confession to make,’ he began, trem-
Toccoa Falls—Georgia.
of practice—there were no murmuriDgs of dis
inclination, half agreeing and then refusing,
tossing the head and pouting the lips, and fin
ally, when the suppliant is completely spent,
a reluctant yielding, ller easy and corditl
grace was as fresft as a breeze, and truly ori
ginal.
She played admirably, and he told her so.
‘Yes,’she said demurely, ‘very well; but I
cannot express half of what I feel !’
This was refreshing candor. It is the fashion
to decry one’s own attainments and to be]severely
critical on one’s own performance; but Miss
Johnston had a fashion of her own.
As a performer, she was elegant and artistio—
no failure, no flaws. Her style was nervous,
vigorous and enchanting. She could render
trembling, dreamy passages, breathing of love
and longing, with strange and beautiful fascina
tion, and in every variety of sentiment; her
playing had toDe, expression, power and finish.
The sun began to grow brighter aronnd Ar
thur Williams. Everything took a luxurious
and luring way, and in all his surroundings,
there came a charm and spell, pleasing, graceful
and irresistible. In ajword, this worldly wise,
dangerous man bad, like Robinson Ciusoe’s
ship,
‘With a shock,
Struck plump on a rock.’
Nelson, the ever true and always in a hurry,
expostulated with him by telegraph, and begged
him for the love of heaven, to throw out an
anchor to windward ? But he either had no
anchor aboard, or disdained advice—aDd drifted
gloriously on with the gale. This man, cold
and dangerous according to his own estimate of
himself, was at the edge of a whirlpool. In her
perfect abandon to gaiety, in her haughty, care
less coquetry, Lizzie Johnston was drawing,
and binding him with cords of steel. Amidst
the flashings of wit, the sparkle of wine, and
the blandishments of wealth and beauty, and
her numerous train of reckless and passionate
admirers, she was the gayest of revelers. Her
laugh was the readiest, her wit the most bril
liant, her coquetry the most fearless and inim
itable.
For at least seven years ber life bad been one
grand role, and she had in her {ime, inspired
terrible passions.
it is a singular fact, that with men, love is
oftener kindled by disdain than by tender and
true regard, and a woman never runs a greater
risk of being unloved and unappreciated, than
at the very moment when she is most worthy of
love.
The experience of the last two months hardly
held the permanence, in Arthur’s mind, of the
memory of shadows on a stream, and the re
membrance of Maggie Morton, had slunk away
like a guilty black sprite from the light of day.
He had awakened to the first consciousness of
the crowning happiness of life. There was ris
ing at the shrine of the sumptuous beauty the
incense of a devoted love. He could not resist
the pleadings of his own heart. Weeks and
weeks passed, and with them glided away the
flowers and butterflies, and he was happy One
after another of fashion’s votaries had retired
from the scene,but Arthur was lingering, dread
ing to hear his fate,—and the belle of the season
loitered, oh,so unconsciously ! to pronounce it.
Before the summer flowers had all faded, and
the summer sunlight had crept away, he must
hear it. Every day and hour he passed in her
society seemed to increase the strength of that
passion, with which the boasted reason of man
has so often been found unequal to cope. For
a long time her haughty mien had been chang
ing towards him—growing sweeter, more allur
ing, inviting. Her soft blandishments lulled
him to reBt, and filled his dreams with dazzling
pictures of enraptured felicity. He drank in as
a famished hart drinks crystal water, his glances
thrilling and tingling with all the fire of lan
guishing love. He did not stop to think that
the same endearing arts had been lavished on
every comer—the same gentle pressure of hand
and arm, which eaoh infatuated blook-head had
interpreted to suit his own mad hopes and wish-
bling, his voice thic jand hoarse.
I have wfuted^to spG-k these words to you, but
have refrained, fearJVq
from me. — ,
life at stak | you lf,ow he caro.ui
in a nurry. T have iiyen watching and waiting
for you. ADdnowIa.sk—ask you to accept the
love which the heart only feels once in this life
of ours. If you can trust me, trust my tender
ness and love, and give yourself into my heart’s
poor keeping, I would make your coming years
brightness and gladness, as far as lay in my
power. You are dearer to me than the blood
that visits my heart, or the light to my eyes—
and 1 know you have known this all along.’
He had sunk down before her on his knee;
his arms extended with a passionate gesture.
One moment she drew back with an allu
ring, coqnettish movement. Then she gave
him her hands.
‘Get up, naughty man,’ she whispered, and
when he had risen, she suffered him to take her
in his arms.
‘Trustyou! oh how can yon doubt it?’ she
murmured as his arms drew her close and his
lips were pressed to hers.
‘My precious darling!’ his murmurous, trem
bling tones mingled with the night bird, the
chimes ot the katydid, the settling shadows.'
(concluded next week. )
The Three Skeletons.
ful garlands amongst the taller shrubs, and iv
ies and strange clinging vines trailed and sway
ed amid the rocks and pines of the cliffs above
us. Then we wonnd our way up toilsome steeps
and looked down into the abyss at the river fret
ting its way through the dark cavern. On these
high plains bloom the creamy hibiscus, scarlet
cypress and golden ooreopsis, with hosts of
hardy flowers in purple and white, blue, crim
son and pink. The few pines are low and broad,
stooping to caress the grass and flowers.
To the north the low plains stretched far away
until the Snowy Ranges lifting their white walls
of snow and ioe shut out the living world and
mark the limits of eternal snow.
The varying landscapes in mountain regions
so charm and interest that fatigue iB seldom
felt. For days our party traveled on. Sometimes
we left our horses to rest whila we caught trout
for oar next meal, or for hours lingered to ad
mire the beauty and grandeur of the landscape.
One afternoon as we were fishing, some of
the gentlemen who were ont on horseback, re
turned to the wagons with news that a few
miles to the right of the road, by following an
old trail, they had found a little valley where
trout were plenty in the streams, grass was
good, and game lurked on the mountain sides.
We decided to push on and camp there for the
night, and give our horses several days’ rest,
while tbe ladies fished or botanized, and the
gentlemen hunted deer and bear.
It was near sunset when we entered the val
ley. The mountains enciroled a pretty
flat where prairie grass grew in great
luxuriance, and from east and north a
foaming mountain stream rushed into
the valley, dashed about, then joined
hands, and in a broader stream, went
rushing to the west. In the fork there
was a gentle rise, and near the summit
stood three low pines; there we decided
to pitch our tents. Twilight was coming
on. The crimson, and goid had faded
from the sky and shadows were dark
in the valley when we reached the
pines; then a feeling of undefinable
dread stole over the party, for there
stood a camp stove covered with rust,
but perfect in all its parts and near by
were the remains of two old saddles.
Twilight deepened into night, our
camp fire blazed high, but its dancing
lights and merry snaps found no echoes
in our hearts, for there was a shadow
of some dark mystery brooding over
the camp. The pines moaned and
sighed as if restless spirits were mur
muring to them the story of wrongs
unavenged. We felt the presence of
the unseen, and listened; there came a
shriek, the wind had blown off a lady’s
hat, and as she ran to catch it, she
stumbled over a skeleton. Two other
skeletons were found near by. Dread
changed to horror; there in thestarlight
lay three skeletons. Who were they ? I
We dare not think ! Our merry party !
of pleasure-seekers was changed to
silent watchers by the unburied dead;
owls hooted, and wolves came near and
cried and wailed; at midnight the moon
raised her wan face over the moun
tains and shed a paler and more ghastly
light around us. Near the more distant
pine the shimmer of a soft star was
seen. One of the gentlemen went to
see what could be there to reflect the
moonlight; he returned with a broken
pistol in his hand.
My heart sank as I caught sight of
For weeks j the pear land silver mounting. I took it quickly
in my hand and saw what I had feared I would
see. The initials H. Ti. II. eugravea upon it. It j -
March 23. If Evs is the correct answer to “prize
puzzle” No. 20, I claim one of the beautiful chre-
mos. Others, out of the city of Atlanta, but not
so far off, may be ahead of me, but I am as early
as the earliest in the far off “Lone Star” State. I
frequently solve your enigmas, puzzles, etc., but
I am so far away, that it is scarcely worth while
for me to send answers, but I risk it this time. I
will expect the chromo. Respectfully.
Mbs. J. A. Campbell,
Hempstead, Texas.
Mrs. John W. Vann, of Florida, says :
Dear Sunny South :
Last night I was reading over your puzzles and
enigmas, when I came to your prize puzzle. I
stopped and commenced trying to solve it, I
think it is an Eye. Am I right? If so, I hope that
I will be in time to get the pretty chromo; if not,
please excuse my first effort, and believe me to be
one of the best friends of the dear Sunny South.
From one of your subscribers.
Mbs. John W. Yajh*.
, they might drive you
When th-^iappiness of a man’s whole ! was Mrs. Halbert’s litt> pistol—the pretty toy she
*' afferd to be { hr.cl be n wont to smile and show us, when vre
hinted at the danger Tfrom Indians that might
overtake her and her husband in some of their
Answers to Correspondents.
A. says: You told us in your last issue the or
iginal significance of certain colors, which we
enjoyed reading ever so much. Will you now be
so kind as to give us the emblems of a few flowers,
such as grow in our yards and shed so much,
sweetness and happiness around our hearts, and
believe me, by so doing you will very much oblige
one that has derived much pleasure and informa
tion from the dear Sunny South We regret that
our limited space will not admit of a compliance
with your request. However, should you deem it
expedient to send us your true address, we will
mail you gratuitously “Burnett’s Language of
Flowers, ’ which is perfectly authentic.
R. E. C. says : As I have been a constant reader
of the Sunny South, and never fail to give due at
tention to the interesting and always informing
answers to correspondents I shall feel obliged if
granted permission to ask a few questions, which
may prove of benefit even unto others that desire
the same information. 1. When notice is sent in
for publication under the head of “ Correspondents
Wanted,” is there any rule to prevent gentlemen
advertising as ladies, and vice versa ? 2. As al
most all persons correspond with an acknowledged
view to matrimony, do you know of any corres-
pondence gotten up from such notices that have
really led to that most desirable of all culmina
tions ? How would it answer to call upon the
experienced—provided there are any—requesting
them to own up, and “ give in their experience ?”
I am positive it would prove edifying.. .1. There
is no rule prohibiting gentlemen advertising as
ladies, neither the reverse ; yet we fail to see just
where the interest in such correspondence would
present itself. 2. As everything pertaining to
this particular department is profoundly confiden
tial, we cannot betray the number of hearts united
by our special Cupid’s instrumentality ; yet should
the parties most interested choose to avail them
selves of your suggestion, we shall be delighted to
hear from them.
excursions after the picturesque. It had over
taken her—a cruel death—the long, fair hair
torn from her lovely head, her body left with
her husband’s and another to be torn by wild
beats, and to bleach in sun and wind. The
gay, fearless, witty lady who had charmed us
so well.
Early next morning we buried the three
skeletons under the sombre pines and hnrried
from tbe place, our hearts saddened by the
mournful fate that had befallen our friends.
A Scene in Colorado.
BY E. STUART.
Pike’s Peak, like a sentinel, stands guarding
tbe three towns that seek shelter in his protec
ting shadow. Only Colorado Springs rests on
the Plain, its broad streets are shaded by rows
of trees that draw their life from the rippling
streams that form a silver net-work through the
town. Old Calorado City, built before the days
of rail roads, shrinks back close to tbe moun
tain, that the earliest shadows may cover her
as if ashamed of her crumbling rains. Charm
ing Monito clings to the mountain side yet fears
to leave the valley where her wond rful springs
still bear the blessing of the Great Spirit. Poet
nor artist can describe Monito, the sighing
wind, rushing water over hanging cliffs, dark
ravines, changing clouds, picturesque cottages,
queer hotels, dashing carriages, music and laugh
ter, glimpse of gay flower beds, great old boul
ders, rustic bridges, bubbling springs, water
falls and rainbows render life at Monito an in
spiration. Yet Monito has stories of the region
beyond, of game in tbe forest, trout in the stream,
and visions of beauty and grandeur.
In tne summer of 1875 we met Mr. Halbert and
his pretty wife, who had joined a party at Monito
and started over the mountains to hunt in the
park, and go on to Santa Fee and other old Mex
ican towns. They were warned of the dangers
of such an excursion Indians were constantly
committing depredations, and there was danger
to inexperienced hunters from bear and moun
tain lion. Tbe party laughed at danger, and
Mrs. Halbert showed her dainty pistol, a mar
vel of beauty in silver and mother of pearl on
which her initials H. H. H. were engraved. The
summer passed and came again, the Halberts
and their party were forgotten. People in the
eastern cities were absorbed with the wonders
of the great Centennial Exhibition while the
miners in the Rocky Mountain were opening
new fields of treasure. Tben came the long
winter from October until June and when the
summer returned the summer of 1877 new roads
were surveyed and passes once unsafe became
thorough-fares.
In August we joined a party for a camp hunt,
and decided to go over the mountains and camp
on the plains as there was then no danger to be
feared from the Indians. The canon through
which we passed, was a blending of beauty and
granduer. Sometimes we were close to the river's
bank, where wild flowers in tropical luxuriance
dipped to the water’s brink, clematis wove grace-
The Prize Puzzle.
CORRECT ANSWERS, AND
WHO GETS THE PRIZES.
“ Eye ” is the Correct Answer.
Now, we are completely turned down. We did
not think a single correct answer would come in
to that puzzle, when Io ! here comes a great swarm
of them. We give each credit for real sharpness.
The following have answered correctly :
Mrs. Dr. C. W. Bailey, Clarksville, Tenn ; A.
M. Marshall, Atkins, Ark.; E. A. Parker, Rus
sellville, Ga; Miss Cary Page, Cary, N. C.; Miss
Annie Treadwell, Memphis, Tenn ; L. E. Cenas,
New Orleans; Master Ollie Reneau, Atlanta: A.
II. C. Atlanta; Jessie Lee Montgomery, Mari
etta, Ga; S. P. Weisiger, Augusta, Ga; Mrs. J.
B. Shumate, Decatur, Ga. ; Mrs. Dr. Hogan,
Grantville, Ga ; Mrs. L. Rutherford, Athens, Ga;
Mrs. M. Randall, Americus, Ga; C. A. Ponce,
Guyton, Ga; Annie Bell Clarke, Newnan, Ga ; A.
E. Wimbish, LaGrange, Ga; Mary Mitchell,
Montgomery, Ala; Minnie Henderson, Talladega,
Jla; J. Q. Robins, Guntown, Miss; John H.
O’Neal, New York city; W. P. K., Richmond,
Va; Mrs. M. L. O'Hara, Mobile, Ala; Mary E.
Alexander, Chulahoma, Miss ; Miss Ida Lee My
ers, Clarksville, Tenn; Miss Claudia Broyles,
Crawfish Spring, Ga; V. I*. Holt, Hampton, Va;
Rev. S. Boykin, Macon, Ga; Louis Braswell,
Demopolis, Ala; II. T. Lee, Goliad, Texas ; Mrs.
Susan Archer Weiss, Richmond, Va ; Mrs. Jno.
W. Vann, Madison, Fla.; Mrs. J. A. Campbell,
Hempstead, Texas.
WHO GETS THE PBIZES ?
Five correct answers were mailed on the 21st.
The prize for the first correct answer by a non
resident of Atlanta, is awarded to Mrs. Dr. Hogan,
of Grant ville. The next prize is awarded to A,
H. C. 23 Ivy street, Atlanta.
Mrs. Susan Archer Weiss, of Richmond, Vir
ginia, says :
Richmond, Va., March 23, 1878.
Mr. Seals—Deae Sir : I have this moment re
ceived the Sunny South for to-day, read your
pretty puzzle first thing, and guessed it at the
tenth line. The word “expressive” betrayed it.
And now, if I am entitled to it, please send on the
chromo. The word is, the Eye. Yours truly,
Susa* Abchhb Weiss.
Mrs. J. A. Campbell, says:
1 have just received the Sunny South, No. 144,
Quondary asks: Will you be bo kind as to in«
form me if, in your opinion, there is any reliability
to be placed in the many hair restoratives which
are so much in vogue now-a-days ? I am only
twenty-five years of age, and yet my hair, which
was luxuriant one year since, has grown quite
thin and lifeless within the past six months. I
have resorted to almost everything that my friends
would recommend without any perceptible benefit,
and now I positively teel discouraged. If there
y remedy, I faKou'ul fool -Ielic;Vii.Gcl r ami very
much indebted, <o he.-.r of it..'.. .Wecannot speak
from practical experience, yet from hearsay we
are decidedly prejudiced against all “ hair resto
ratives.” Ti e loss of yours seems to explain it
self. Every person’s hair naturally renews by
falling out more or less at times. You became, we
think, unnecessarily alarmed, and possibly applied
remedies which proved directly detrimental. Now,
suppose you discontinue everything for a time,
and then try rainwater and common soda. Always
endeavor to keep the scalp perfectly clean, avoid
pomades, and brush your head often. Perhaps
the debilitated state of your health has something
to do with it. If so, remedy the latter, and the
first will cure itself.
I Should Like to Know, asks: Why is it that
our progenitors invariably selected the fourth tin-
ger of the left hand as the most appropriate to
wear the matrimonial token ?... .Swinburne’s
Treatise on Espousals says that anatomy demon
strates there is a vein of blood which passes from
that finger into the heart, called vena amoris—
love’s vein—and so the wearing of the ring on that
finger signifies that the love should not be in vain,
or feigned, but as they should give hands each
unto the other, so likewise should they give hearts
whereunto that vein extended.” This idea is at
tributed to the ancient Egyptians as early as the
second century. Loevinus Leminus, a celebrated
sage of Zealand, in his medical practice often, ’tis
said, took advantage of this connecting artery to
restore fainting women to consciousness, by either
rubbing the joints of the fourth finger or by pinch
ing them.
Blue Eyes says : Dear Sunny South—You never
will know how much'genuine pleasure your expla
nations in regard to “ colors ” and “ gems,” elicit
ed by “Bertha’s” interrogatory, has given us
girls; and now, to verify the old adage that “ the
more one receives the more they want,” l come to
you for iuformation in regard to the eyes Mine
are blue, and I just do want to know if this, my
only redeeming feature, cannot be eulogized in
some poetic romance We cheerfully append
our entire fund of knowledge as regards tbe color
of the human eye, yet we think equally as much—
nay more—could be said of the expression. How
ever, the latter is one of the few things that can
be seen, and even magnetically felt, yet defies ac
curate description- This is what is culled from
the “ Brownsville Advertiser:”
•‘ Brown eyes’ hoods
Cover moods ;
The eye of blue
Is firm and true ;
Gray eyes ever dry,
Gray eyes ever sly ;
But the black eye glistening, gleaming,
Like God’s ways, hath deepest meaning.’’
Gertie asks: What poet is responsible for the
following lines:
“ Let the great world spin forever down
The ringing grooves of change.”
’Tis one of Tennyson’s flights of fancy.
Wanted.
A FEW Pupils, either in the Literary branches or
Music, or both, by a lady who is thoroughly acquaint
ed with the best methods of instruction, and who has had
much experience in teaching. Highest testimonials can
he giveu of her ability as a teaeher.
Address M. H. S.,
No. 57. Marietta street.
147—tf
IT
■ I **
IT
Van
X, Woolley’s'
Painless
AMERICAN
IUM
Cure or
ANTIDOTE.
Office No. 85, over Linen Store, entrance
Whitehall street.
The habit of u.^ing Mor
phine/} um Opium, Laud
anum or Elixir of Opium
cured painlessly by this
Improved remedy.
Manufactured at Atlanta,
Ga., at reduced prices.
Tented »n hundreds of
chaoa. Guaranteed. Par
ticulars Fan ■. Address B*
M, Woolley, Atlanta, Ga.
38}