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From the Boys and Girls of the South.
THE WANDERING BOYS;
Or.
The Adventures of Bold Ben
and Timid Tom.
When Balph Murdoch glided through the
darkness from the poacher’s hut it was with a
feeling of relief and exultation.
The first sight of Ben and Tom, whom he had
supposed long since dead, had filled him with
dismay.
The sight of John Trusty subsequently added
to his horror, and he felt for a time that the
hour of retribution must be at hand.
But the experience of a few hours had alter
ed his opinion, and almost banished his fears.
His secret was safe.
The man who alone possessed it was in a state
of imbecility—semi-madness.
By to-morrow night the boys would be in his
power, and then,—
•What then?’
It was the answer to this question that now
absorbed him.
He strode on through the misty night at a
rapid pace, pondering on what he should do
with the boys when he had them safely in his
clutches.
He had consigned their father to the deep by
a cowardly blow.
He had caused the death of their mother by
means equally cowardly and revolting.
Should he lure their orphan children into
some gloomy wood, and slay them with his own
hand?
He would willingly have done this, but for
one reason—be dared not.
Yet he felt that there would be no safety for
him until they were got rid of—somehow.
Then there was John Trusty. He was even
more dangerous than the boys. He knew the
secret of their birth. They did not.’
‘I will destroy them all, if I can !’ meditated
Balph Murdoch, as he stood before the cage,
with folded arms and knitted brows. ‘I have
gone too far in crime to pause now. But I can
not do the deed myself. Surely I shall be able
to find some f^ent whom money will tempt to
carry out my designs. I have till to-morrow to
consider. Till to morrow!’
Drawing his cloak closer round him with an
irrepressible shudder, he hurried onwards
through the gloom.
As Ralph Murdoch strode recklessly along the
rough path, a man dashed out of the hedge,
and swinging him round, dashed him to the
ground.
The attack was so sudden, that for an instant,
Ralph lay bewildered and almost stupefied.
At length he gasped,—
•What seek you, ruffian ?’
•Your money or your life. I don’t care which !’
growled a fierce, harsh voice.
Ralph wes a powerful man, and, to a yertain
extent, a courageous man, and, at that moment,
a desperate man.
The demand had hardly passed the lips of his
assailant when, with a sudden and unexpected
movement, he struck out with bis clenched fists,
and the blow alighting in the centre of the man’s
forehead, he fell backwards on the ground with
tremendous force.
The next moment Ralph had sprung up, and
was pressing his knee upon hie opponent’s chest,
gripping his throat tightly with one hand, and
holding a six-barrelled revolver to his head with
the other.
‘Now, you scoundrel!’ he cried, sternly, ‘it
is my turn to make terms.’
‘I’m done !’ ga«ped the rnffian, ‘spare my life;
hunger drove me to it.'
The powerful frame of the speaker seemed to
give the lie to his words as did also the furtive
manner in which he felt on the ground for his
clasp knife, which he had dropped in the strug
gle. But he could not find it, and Ralph ab
ruptly hindered any further attempt, by pres
sing the barrel of his revolver so sharply against
his temple that the man uttered an exclamation
of pain.
‘Ay, you may howl, you murderous vagabond,’
cried Mr. Murdoch; ‘I’ve a strong inclination
to stop your mouth with a bullet.’
The prostrate man did not like the idea, but
cowered and shrank, and uttered a low whine
of entreaty.
But his antagonist’s blood was roused, his
finger was on the trigger of the weapon, and it
is possible a slight motion of it might have sent
the soul of the robber to its account, had not
one thought suddenly entered Ralph’s brain.
Here at his feet was the very instrument he
needed.
Under this impression, Mr. Murdoch with
drew the barrel of the revolver a short distance
from the man’s temple, and slightly relaxed his
grip upon his throat.
This lenity was immediately answered by a
desperate effort on the part of the prostrate ruf
fian to gain bis feet.
But Ralph held him like a vice.
‘Hark’e, fellow,’ he hissed in his ear, sternly;
‘if you attempt that again, you’re a dead man !’
‘I won’t sir! I won’t indeed,’ whined the dis
comforted robber. ‘I find you are too much for
me.’
‘Stand up and let me look at you,’ continued
Ralph, as with a Btrong jerk, he dragged his
captive on to his feet. ‘Come into the moon
light.’
He led him forward, still keeping the revolver
pointed at his head, and quietly took stock of
his physical peculiarities.
These consisted of a gaunt, wiry, powerful
frame, a dark, sunburnt complexion, a head of
coarse, black hair, and a pair of gleaming black
eyes, at once fierce, cunning and cruel.
‘Jnst now, however, they glared apprehen
sively and furtively from side to side, and were
more wild than fierce.
The prospect altogether seemed satisfactory
to Ralph, who said, imperatively:
‘Now, listen to me—and mark me, none of
your tricks. I’m used to dealing with rogues,
and, if you lift so much as a finger in the way
of violence, I’ll shoot you like a dog. D’ye un
derstand?’
‘Perfectly,’muttered the man.
•From your appearance you should be a gip
sy,’ continued Ralph.
‘I am,’ was the sullen answer.
‘I suppose you have a name?’
‘I s’pose I have.’
‘What is it?’ sternly demanded Ralph.
•Luke Laker,’ growled the gypsy.
‘Luke Laker,’ repeated Mr. Murdoch; ‘very
well, then, Luke Laker, pay attention to my
words. If I understand you rightly yon want
money ?’
‘Yes.’
•1 can supply yonr wants, on certain condi
tions,’ said Ralph. ‘Yon will have to work for
what you get Do you feel inclined to serve one
faithfully, and earn a hahdsome sum, or refuse
and have your brains blown out?’
‘I’ll serve you, sir,’ hereplied, with a mixture
of eagerness and humility.
‘You’re not particular,! suppose, how you earn
it?’ asked Mr. Murdoch.
‘Not at all,” was the ready reply.
‘You would not scruple even to shed blood if I
require it?’ continued Ralph, in a tone of de
liberate enquiry.
‘You may judge of that from the attempt I made
upon you, just now,’ returned the gipsy, with
S rim kind of a half smile. j
[’rue,I may,’said his listener, apparently sat- J
isied. ‘Well then,’ he went on, in a low, im
pressive tone, ‘the work I would have you ac
complish is this. There are two obstacles I wish
removed from my path.’
Luke Laker raised his eyes to the speaker’s face
and kept them there.
‘Yon mean to say there are two persons you want
out of the way?’ hereplied, in a tone of per
fect comprehension.
•Precisely, ’returned Ralph; ‘effectually put
out of the way, I mean, so that there can never
be any possibility of their coming across me
again.’
‘I understand. You want them dead and buried,
all quiet and secret’
‘Yes.’
These deliberations were made with a coolness
on both sides that was perfectly appalling.
There was a slight pause, and then the gipsy
said:
‘I can do it, and all that I want to know is,
who I’m to kill, where they’re to be found, and
lastly, what I’m to get for the job. Murder is
an expensive luxury,’ he grinned.
‘With respect to the two first questions,' re
turned Ralph, ‘you shall have the necessary in
formation shortly; as regards the last, I will give
you one hundred pounds.’
‘A hundred pounds?’ murmured the gipsy to
himself, his eyes flashing greedily; ‘that’s fifty
pounds apiece, ,1 hope, though,’ he added aloud,
‘these two—a—customers ain’t quite so strong
as you are, sir ?’
‘No, no,’ returned Ralph quickly, ‘there’ll be
no difficulty; they are but boys.’
‘That makes it all the easier,’ remarked Laker.
‘And how about the payment?’ he then asked.
•Yon will receive half the sum in advance, and
the remainder when you have done the deed, re
plied his employer; ‘will that satisfy you !’
‘Ye—es, that’s fair enough. But—’ the ruf
fian hesitated.
‘But what ?’ inquired Ralph.
‘I suppose yon wouldn’t mind droppin’ a
pound or two, to-night, jest to bind the bargain?
replied the gipsy.
‘Here are five pounds. You will know by
this I am in earnest.’
Luke Laker grasped the coins eagerly, and
thrust them into his pocket.
‘Give me a sight of my prey, and put the other
forty-five in my hands, and you shall find that
I am in earnest too sir,’ he remarked with a
grin.
‘You must meet me here at eleven o’clock to
morrow night,’ said Ralph. ‘I cannot explain
my plans more fully until then.’
‘I’ll not fail to be here, sir,’ returned the gip
sy. in a tone of the most cheerful alacrity.
They were about to separate, when the sound
of voices near at hand caused them to pause,
The place where this murderous compact was
made was a small woodland space adjacent to
the road.
A thick hedge skirted the side of the path,
which had to be reached by a shelving bank.
The voices evidently came from the field on
the other side of the hedge. Ralph listened in
tently as several footsteps passed along.
‘ Who could they be, at that late Lour ?’ he
thought.
‘ Keep close to the hedge, and follow me,’ he
whispered, hastily to bis companion.
There were trees at intervals growing out from
the hedge, and Ralph Murdoch, hurrying on in
advance of the unsuspecting strollers in th e
field, clambered up the bank, and shrouding
himself behind one of the trunks, waited for
the party to pass.
Before he saw them he could hear them speak
ing in low. eager, earnest tones.
But when he did see them, he almost fell
back from his post is astonishment, as he recog
nized the very boys whose destruction he had
just been bargaining for, and whom he fondly
believed were at that moment, safely concealed
in the poacher's hovel.
Who their companions were he neither knew
nor cared.
It was enough Ben and Tom were there,
cared to know no more.
His face was pale, his brows frowning,
his teeth tightly compressed.
Luke Laker saw at once something bad
turbed him, and he said, in a whisper:
‘ Anything the matter, sir ?'
‘ Sh—silence !’ hissed Ralph, between his
teeth, as he pointed hastily towards the hedge,
‘ they are there.'
‘ What, the boys as I’m to—’
‘ Yes ! sh !—Creep forward as gently as a liz
ard. I’ll show them to you.’
The gentlemanly villain and his instrument,
holding their breath, glided stealthily along
under the hedge bank.
He
and
dis-
CHAPTER XL
BEN MAKES A PROPOSAL WHICH DELIGHTS EVERY
BODY, ESPECIALLY TWO WHO ARE OUT OF SIGHT.
Little dreaming they were being tracked, our
young heroes and their fair companions strolled
along affectionately together.
Presently they stopped again and seemed to
linger, as though they could not make up their
minds to say ‘good-by.’
They stood beneath a tree, and the moon
peered down upon them through the overhang
ing branches, and lighted up their features.
This was a favorite spot for scrutiny, for the
hedge was not very thick.
Ralph oDce more ascended the bank and beck
oned to Luke Laker to follow.
He did so, and his employer deliberately point
ed out his victims.
The gipsy looked eagerly. His look was
scowling and dark, as his eyes fell upon Bess,
who stood encircled by Ben's arm, and with
her arm round him in the most loving and
natural manner.
He started, and could hardly suppress an oath,
fer Bess belonged to his tribe, aDd he had con
ceived a passion for the young girl whom he
hoped one day to call his wife.
‘ So’ he murmured, inwardly ‘she’s sweet on
that boy, is she? Well, it wont be for long. If
I thought she cared for him, I’d cut his throat
for nothing.’
He remained glaring through the hedge,
whilst Bess on the opposite side to Ben, said—
‘So you really are going away ?’
‘Yes,’ he answered, rather sadly.
Bess sighed.
‘I’m very sorry you’re going,’ she murmured.
‘Oh, so am I! ’ echoed Rose Glanville, with
half a sob; ‘you don’t know how sorry I am.’
This was to Tom, who could only shake his
head in reply.
‘Are you obliged to go ?’ asked Bess, presently.
‘Yes, dear,’ returned Ben looking down into
the young girl's dark eyes. ‘It wouldn’t be safe
for us to stay here after breaking out of the
cage. ’
'And where are you going?' Bess inquired.
‘I don’t know,' replied Ben: so long as we get
away from here. ’
‘And you’re going away all alone.' said Rose,
pitifully; ‘what a shame it is ! and all through
these spiteful boys. Oh, don’t go.’
‘We must indeed, Rose, dear,’ replied Tom.
‘I’m sure I wouldn't if I were you,’persisted
Rose. ‘Oh !' she exclaimed suddenly, ‘couldn’t
you hide yourselves somewhere ?’
The boy looked at the eager speaker.
‘Where could we ?’ they asked.
‘Where ? oh, why—in a cavern in the moun
tains,’ Rose suggested, aftera moment’s hesita
tion ‘or in a hollow tree in the woods,’ she add
ed, ‘and then I could bring you your dinners
every day.’
It seemed a romantic idea to Tom; and he said
to his brother—
•Do you think it would do ?’
Ben shook his head with a smile. He evident
ly didn’t think it would.
‘We couldn’t live all our lives in a hollow tree,’
he said. ‘Besides, we should be sure to be
canght sooner or later No I am afraid we must
g0 ’’ „
Poor Rose looked downcast, and Bess looked
desponding
Bess had remained thoughtful for the last few
moments.
Suddenly she roused from her abstraction.
‘I have been thinking—’ she said.
‘What ?’ inquired everybody, eagerly.
‘Of a better place to hide in than a cave or a
hollow tree,’ she replied.
‘What place is it ?’ asked Ban and Tom.
‘Our gypsy camp,’ she answered with asmile;
‘you might be safe there. We could hide you
easily if you were pursued, and if you liked I
could stain your hands and faces with a juice
that would make you look as dark as the rest.
Besides we shall be moving away from here in
a few days to another part of the country, and
yon might go with us.’
Conli Bess and her companions have seen
the ferocious look of exultation that flashed
across the face of Ralph Murdock, And the hun
gry, murderous light which jealousy and the
thirst for blood-money kindled in the dark eyes
of Luke Laker, they would have understood
how thoroughly this last proposal pleased them.
< Had they schemed and plotted for a month,
no plan could have been devised so thorough
ly favorable to theiVrnurderous intentions.
I Luke Laker chuckled in ferocious glee, as he
felt that Bess had unconsciously sealed the
doom of those she most wished to serve,
j The proposal of the young gipsy girl seemed
jfeasible to Ben, and he said:
j ‘I don't think we could do better than that,
Bess; but will they let us come—I mean the
gipsies ?’
j ‘If I ask the queen; I think she would,’ re
turned Bess.
I ‘Oh, do ask her! do!,’ cried Tom and Rose
together.
•I mean to,’ Bess answered.
‘But they don’t like strangers,’ suggested
Ben, ‘and I have very little, money to give them.’
‘I've got four and sixpence,’ exclaimed Tom,
eagerly.
His voice died away suddenly, as he added
in a crestfallen tone;
‘Only I forgot I’d left it in my money box at
home.’
‘Never mind, dear,’ whispered Rose, sooth
ingly’ ‘I've got some money. Here,’ she con
tinued, producing a coin from her pocket,
here’s half a sovereign, all in gold.'
‘She pressed it into ^om's hand.
‘Oh, no, no, Rose!' .'te cried, trying to return
it, ‘I won’t take it.’ J
‘You must,’ she said, ‘and this too.’
As she spoke, she threw the chain of a looket
which she had detached from her neck, over
Tom’s head.
‘I will never part with this!’ he vowed, men
tally, ‘as long as I live.’
‘You've given me every thing, and I have
nothing to give you in return,’ he said.
‘Give me one of these pretty curls,’ whisper
ed Rose;‘I’d rather have that than any thing
else. ’
‘You may have them all, if you like,’ return
ed Tom; ‘but how can I cut them off? I’ve nei
ther scissors nor knite.’
‘I don’t want them all,’ Rose replied; ‘that
would be greedy. But one I must have.’
She pondered for an instant, and then Baid,
suddenly: ‘I’ve thought of a plan. Hold down
your head, please.’
Tom obeyed.
Rose was instantly busy with her taper fing
ers, selecting one of his golden locks.
•Take a big one,’'iie^trtuV‘^ou may pull it
out by the roots, if you like.’
‘No, Tom, dear,’ answered Rose, ‘I wouldn’t
be so cruel.’
Tom wondered how she was going to dissev
er the lock.
Having selected the piece of hair, she bent
down, and with her teeth, white as pearls and
sharp as those of a mouse, she speedily nibbled
asunder the coveted treasure, which she held
up very triumphantly.
‘Here it is!’ she cried, ‘I’ve bitten it off. Aint
I a savage animal ?’
‘You’re a dear, kind darling,’returned Tom,
and when I’m grown up, I’ll come back and
marry you.’
Rose Glanville smiled and blushed a little,
and seemed quite satisfied with this arrange
ment.
It’s getting very late, and I must return to
our tents. You will come with me ?’ said Bess.
‘Yes,’ answered Ben and Tom.
A few more words passed, and then the party
set forward.
They would walk together until within sight
of Rose Glanville’s house, and there take leave
of her, and proceed straight to the gipsy's camp.
Luke Laker perfectly understood the plan of
proceeding, and had resolved what to do.
‘ 1 shall see you to-morrow night at < eleven
here,’ said Murdoch to him.
‘ Certain,’ replied Lake, as he clambered over
the hedge, and strode across the field, with the
intention of making a short cut.
‘Everything goes as I could wish,’ soliloquiz
ed Ralph, as he stood alone in the path. • The
boys removed, there only remains John Trusty
—faithful John ! Ha, ha, I can easily manage
him!
‘And they’ve broke out of it! Isn’t that it ? ’ ! Hygienic Institute & Turkish Bath
exclaimed Luke, eagerly. Jo
‘ It is,’ replied Ben.
Luke’s eyes flashed with pretended admira
tion.
* Good lads, brave lads!’ be cried warmly. ‘I
respect ’em for their pluck ! Give me your
hands, youngsters.’he said, advancing cordially.
The warm shake the gipsy gave them, and the
commendatory remarks upon their courage,
greatly cheered the boys.
‘I understand all about it,’ Luke continued;
‘these young gentlemen are expecting the con
stables'll be after them in the morning.’
‘Yes.’ said the boys, ‘we are,’
‘And so they will be, you may be sure of that,’
went on Luke, *an’ you'll want some safe, snug
place where you can hide yourselves till pur
suit’s over, won't you ?’
‘I was thinking—’ Bess was about to remark.
‘I know what,’ Luke interrupted, ‘you was
thinking what place so safe and snug as the
gipsy’s camp, where no police constable would
think of showing his nose—eh?'
•You’re right, I was, answered Bess.
* Well, as the young gentlemen gotinto trouble
on your acconnt, it’s nothing but fair that we
should give 'em shelter in return.’
‘I was sure the whole tribe would think so,’
exclaimed Bess, joyfully, ‘and the queen as
well.’
‘Oh, yes, there's no fear of that,’ answered
Luke; ‘I’ll speak to her myself. Come on, my
boys, you shall have the best the camp affords,
I promise you.’
They soon reached the gipsy camp.
Profound silence reigned all around, but as
they made their way into the heart of the en
campment, many swarthy faces looked forth,
and many tongues inquired in the gipsy patois
who the strangers were.
These were, at once, however, quieted by a
word from Luke.
The queen of the tribe was still awake, and
Luke having sought her presence and explained
the circumstances under which the boys sought
her protection, he introduced them to her.
Marian Marr was not only a queen in her
own right, but boasted the pure, numixed gipsy
blood of three generations flowing in her veins.
Though no longer young, she still was not
old, and if the gray hairs that mingled with her
dark locks indicated the advance of years, they
brought with them no sign of feebleness.
She gazed earnestly at Ben and Tom, and ap
pearing satisfied, she said:
* Tis well! They are welcome to stay,’
Ben thanked the queen respectfully, and ten
dered the half sovereign which Tom quietly
slipped into his hand.
‘We are not rich, ma’am,’ he said; ‘but we
shall bo glad it yon will accept this in return
for your kindness. It is not much, but it is all
we have.’
‘No,’ returned the queen, graciously; ‘in aid
ing one of our tribe you have purchased the
right to our protection and friendship without
fee or reward. ’
Having thus spoken, with a wave of her hand,
her majesty turned away, and retired to her
tent.
Bess, having wished them good-night, retired.
Ben expressed his regret to Luke that his gift
was not accepted.
‘Give me the gold,’ he said; ‘I will persuade
her to receive it as a token of respect.’
Ban thanked him sincerely, and handed him
the half sovereign, which Luke received, and,
of course, kept for himself.
Ben and Tom now began to show unmistaka
ble signs of drowsiness.
‘Come with me,’ said their friend, ‘you shall
share my tent. You’re a couple of brave lads,
and I respect you.’
With this flattering assurance the boys fol
lowed the gipsy to his tent, where in a few min
utes they were sound asleep.
Luke sat smoking his pipe, looking moodily
at the youthful sleepers.
* How easy it would be to strangle them now
as they lie sleeping there !’ he meditated. ‘But
that wouldn’t do. No, no. The blow must be
struck cautiously—in solitude and secrcsy,
where no eye can see nor ear listen to what is
passing, and where the dead and the deed can
be buried and forgotten together.'
As he mused, so deep was his abstraction
that he did not hear a light- footstep behind
him, or notice a girlish form that approached
and glanced in for an instant.
It was Bess.
She remained only a second, and then, ap
pearing satisfied, disappeared.
Luke having gazed till he was tired, and his
pipe being finished, rolled himself in his blan
ket, and in brief space slumbered by the side
of his intended victims.
(TO BE CONTENTED.)
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CHAPTER XII.
LUKE LAKER ENCOUNTERS BEN AND TOM AND IN
TRODUCES THEM TO THE GIPSY QUEEN.
It was not very long before the young pedes
trian reached the spot where they were to take
leave of each other, which they did at once.
‘ brood-by, Ben ! Good-by, Tom, dear ! ’
‘ Good-by, Rose, good-by ! ’
•I shall see yon, sAoetime, I hope.’
‘ I hope so ! ’
These were the ejaculations that bnrst from
the lips of the friends in a smothered, choked
tone.
Then came the last ‘good-by,’ the farewell
kiss; and Rose Glanville, tearing herself away,
hurried homeward, with the tears trickling
down her cheeks.
Bess and our heroes continued their journey.
They had proceeded some distance, when
they were somewhat startled by a crashing in
the hedge at the roadside, and a man sprang in
to the road right in their path.
A rough, dark-looking man enough—but not
a constable.
Ben and Tom realized this fact at once.
They were also much relieved when they
heard Bess exclaim, in a tone of surprise, but
not alarm: ‘ Luke! ’
‘Yes, it's me,’ returned the gipsy, who had
made a hasty circuit for the express purpose of
intercepting them. ‘ What Bess, my girl! ’ he
exclaimed, with well-assumed astonishment, ‘is
it really yon, and away from the camp at this
late hour ? ’
‘Yes, it is indeed; but I’m on the road home
now. I'm glad I’ve met yon; you’ll be compa
ny for us.’
* And who are they ?' asked Luke, fixing bis
keen eyes upon Ben and Tom.
‘They’re friends of mine, who saved me from
insult to-day,’ answered Bess.
‘Ah, indeed!’
‘ Yes, the magistrate’s son and another young
man thought they might ill-treat me, I suppose,
because I’m a gipsy. But my friends, here,
gave them a good thrashing, for which they
were locked up in the cage.’
Thk Existence of the Church.—The Chris
tian Church asserts, and ever has asserted, that
the cause of its renewed existence, after the
death of its founder, was not the belief in a dog
ma or a doctrine, but in a fact, that Jesus
Christ rose again from the dead.—C. A. Rowe.
The Divinity of Christ.—Just as the skillful
mathematician will draw an object, having only
the shadow to guide him, so from the shadow of
the Saviour’s perfect human nature his divine
nature has been—what shall I say ?—described ?
no; defined? no; but projected and p-oved,
because such a man must have been more than
man. He must have been the mighty God him
self.—Alexander Dickson.
The True Benefactor.—He is the true bene
factor, and alone worthy of honor, who brings
comfort where before was wretchedness; who
dries the tear of sorrow, who pours oil into the
wounds of the unfortunate, whe feeds the hun
gry and clothes the naked, who nulooses the
fetters of the slave, who does justice, who en
lightens the ignorant; who enlivens and exalts,
by his virtuous genius, in art, in literature, in
science, the hours of life; who, by words or ac
tions, inspires a love for God ana for man. This
is the Christian hero; this is the man of honor
in a Christian land. — Charles Sumner.
The Body of the Future.—Men, women, un
derstand that you are making now the body of
the future; you are making that which is to be
the blessed organ and helpmeet, or the torment
and curse, of the spirit in eternity. Live like
a beast, and yon may see in faces that yon some
times meet and shudder to look upon, the like
ness to which you are growing. Live like Christ,
and the form which he bore through the gate of
death, is the image of the glorious tabernacle
which awaits you, when the death-swoon for
the moment is over, and ‘in your flesh'yon shall
see God.—J. Baldwin Brown.
The Power of Christianity.—The distinct
ive power of Christianity is the power of Christ’s
person. He stands before his maxims; we love
Him first, then listen to his teachings. He is
the personal centre around whom onr affections
gather, our life revolves. All onr religious
thoughts, and obedience, and love enshrine
themselves in Him. His peerless person is ever
before ns; individual, vivid, divine, all that we
can reverence in Deity, all that we can love in
humanity; a presence we cannot banish, a pow
er that we cannot resist, a beautiful incarnation
of parity and love that we can neither gainsay
nor corrupt. The most perfect moral system
can excite no enthusiasm compared to sach a
life.—Henry Allon.
DR. A. L. HAMILTON, President.
CUTHBERT, GEORGIA.
This old and popular institution is still doing noble
service in the great work ot education. The spacious
and comfortable Boat ding House and College Buildings
have j n»t been repaired and refurnished in elegant style,
and will bear favorable comparison with similar estab
lishments in any part of th' country. The corps of
teachers—nine in number—for thoroughness and effi
ciency, cannot be surpassed North or South.
The Course of Study was prepared with great care, and
it is fully up with the requirements of the times. It em
braces equally, the physical, mental and moral cultiva
tion of the pupils.
The Discipline is very mild, but firm, systematic and
exacting.
The Terms have been reduced, so far as possible, to meet
the necessities of the times, as will appear from the fol
lowing exhibit:
PER SESSION OF NINE MONTHS,
REGULAR coi b-e.
Preparatory Department $30 00
Academic Department 45 00
Collegiate Department 90 00
For extra course, as music, vocal and instrumental,
modern languages, painting, ornamental work, the price
has been put down as low as possible.
Boarding Department.—Room handsomely furnished,
washing, lights and fuel, at $15 per month, or $135 for
the scholastic year.
Payments—quarter!'" in advance, nnless by special
agreement otherwise.
Location—Cuthbert is the most beautifnl little city in
Georgia: is approachable from all directions by railroad;
and for good morals, good health, and cultivated society,
is unsurpassed in the United States.
E3?“The College is thoroughly non-sectarian.
J6S“Boardingarrangements in the College are first-class.
Jfi'P’Puj>ils received at any time, and charged from date
entrance. 141—t/
T*T l\ T ft IV ( Y T War over. Ludden
I 1AAU IV UIlUAA Bates hold the field
aud compete with the world. 1 000 Superb instruments
from Reliable Makers at Factory [fates. Every man his
own agent. Bottom prices to all. New Pianos,
$135, $150.§179. New Organs, $10, $50, $07.
Six years guarantee. Fifteen days trial. Maker’s names
on all Instruments. Square dealing, the honest truth,
and best bar gains in the U. S. From $50 to $100 actually
saved in buying from Lmlclen & Bates' Southern
Wholesale Piano and Organ Depot, Savan*
nali, Ga. 145—It
5 The habit of using Morphine,
® Gum Opium. Laudanum or Elixir
of Opium cured painlessly by
this Improved remedy.
Manufactured at Atlanta. Ga.,
at reduced prices. Tested in
hundreds of cases. Guaranteed-
Particulars Free. Address B.
M. Woolley, Atlanta. Ga. Office No. 35, over Linen
Store, entrance 33V£ Whitehall street.
WATERS’
ORGANS warranted for 5 years.* PX^LPiTOS
stops, $SS ; 12 stops, • Cash, all in perfect order not
used a year. Sheet Music at half price. Send for Illustrated
Catalogues. HORACE W ITERS * SONS, Manu ae-
turers and Dealers, 40 East 14th Street, New York.
157—It.
Pulury, Salesmen wanted to sell our
Staple Goods to dealers. No peddling
Kxpenncn paid. Permanent employ
ment. address S. A. GRANT & CO,
4, 6 & b Home St., Cincinnati, G.
BURNHAM’S
Juifl £i
WARRANTED BEST A CHEAPEST.
Also, MILLING MACHINERY.
PRICES REDUCED APR. 20,78.
Pamphlet* free. Office, Yore, Pa.
AaGOLD PLATED WATCHES. Cheapest
% the known world. Sample Watch Free to
Mr \MAgents. Address, A, Coulter & Co., Chicagu
Samples.
d^-1 r”'V a day easily made. 8end 3
cent stamp lor Circulars and
Address . OWENS A CO., Clinton, Kv. .
157—3t. '