The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, December 21, 1878, Image 2

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Sundown. BY SHALER G. HILLYER, Jb. Author of the Prize Story Marable Family in the Savannah News. (Copy right reserved.) CHAPTER Y. MIDNIGHT AT SUNDOWN. The room that I was to occupy was on the first fl >or, and diagonally across the hall from the parlor. I noticed, after entering it, and I had been left alone by the servant, a door one side of the fire-place which, I supposed opened into the yard; on examination, however, I found that it opened into a sm 11 room, nsed probably in former years, I thought, as I glanced around it, as a conserv atorv. I did not enter this small apartment, but closed its door immediately after opening it. The room that I was in was carpeted, and otherwise comf irtably furnished. The furniture was old, and like that in the parlor, was of costly material, that spoke of better days. Ou the mantel were a couple of antique vases filled with sprigs of holly. Between the vases were arranged several pieces of statuary, among which I recognized the well-known bust of Henry Clay The walls of the room were hang with paintings. Among them were a couple of portraits that had an ancient look about them. They were lifesiz\ and were dressed in the fashion of a hundred years ago. And then, close by these, I noticed a smaller portrait. It had a look of in terror at i‘s presence. Suddenly it too ceased, followed immediately by a low, mocking, un earthly langb. Looking towards the corner of the room from whence this elfish langh pro ceeded, I saw an apparition which would have startled me had it not so quickly followed the horrible noisi just described. It was the head of a man that I saw, a bead that had on it a skull cap, and whose fac9 was covered with a long shaggy beard. As his mocking tones fell upon my ear, my dread of the snake vanished, or they revealed to me that the startling sound had been produced by the strange looking be ing gazing at me from a corner of the room. Instinctively and with a quick motion, I raised the band that was armed with the derringer. As I did so the apparition vanished. My fi.-st thought had beeD that the man wis within the room, but on his disappearing I discovered that, he had been looking at m«, I know not how long, through a sma'l window in the apart ment. As quickly as I could I went out, and raD aronnd to that side of tho room in which the window was, but could see no one. I made some further search in tba‘ portion of the premises. It. proving fruitless I returned to my room taking the precaution to secure, as well as 'I did not expect to see yon at the breakfast table; we have mot just as I expected we would. You will have many difficulties Miss Kite; they, will arise every day, almost every hour, but you will be equal to them all. I am sure you will. Now tell me where you found Dandie this morn ing T ‘Confined in an out-house, which is sometimes looked at night, but more often left open. But why do you ask ?' I then told to her briefly, as I had to her moth er and brother, the events of the past night. When I concluded, I drew from my vest pocket the derringer already spoken of, and from my valise a small box of cartridges: ‘Mss Kite,’I said, ex'ending them towards her, ‘take this pivtol. You must carry it with you wherever yon go. Mike a little holster for it in your belt, where it will be ready to your hand, and, what is better whc-r i it can be seen. U ;e half of these cartridges, within the next few days, in learning how to shoot it. I doubt not you will soon handle it with ease, and be able to protect yourself, if necessary. Keep also your faithful Dandie by yon at all times, and be care ful that he is not again locked up at night.’ Her face revealed that she was both surprised I could, both the outer and inner doors of the 1 and perplexed by my act and accompanying ad conservatory. I went back to bed, but it was a long time before I could go to sleep. Oace, just after I had lain dowD, I thought I heard the wheezing cough of the croupy dog at the store; and I still heard, at intervals, the whining, and growling, and scratching of that other dog in the yard, but the sounds gradually ceased, until I heard them no more. Then followed a s illness that was oppressive. I would close my eyes, and resolutely endeavor to banish thought, but all my wooings of slumber were vain. My thoughts would recur to the ocourrances of the night, to The moon was shining across my couch, and on the opposite wall presently it illuminated the picture of the child hanging there. It wis some relief from my glofemy thoughts to turn my eyes upon that fresh young face, and try to trace its fair lineaments, and to catch the light of its almost loving eyes. While gazing upon it I recalled with pleasure the appearance of its original, when she came so opportunely to my as-istanoe the evening before. I saw heragainas she sat opposite to me in the parlor, when, look ing into earnest eyes, I saw a new light picture of Kate Goldie, doDe when she was only four or five years of ege. The fair face of the child with its sunny ringlets, and innocent brown eyes, was the last thing I saw ere I closed my eyes in sleep that night. But if I dreamed of the picture, or of its original, or of anything else, I have forgotten it. I suppose I bad been asleep about two hours when I was awakened, as I thought, by some noise in the room. I raised myself on my elbow and looked around through the apartment, dimly lighted by the moon just rising; at the same time listening intently. I could see nothing to j into them, the light of a high r<rs lve. ‘And then excite alarm but while listening with strained , I beard again the plaintive melody of her voice attention, 1 heard as if from a great distance, ' as she sang to me; and listening to it my excited the wheezing cough of a dog. I could also hear j nerves became calm, and I could rest at last, a sound which came apparently from the yard; But just then turning my now languid eyes it was the alternate whining and growling of from the picture to tho door of the conservatory, another dog. Asiund like the scratching of T - his paws against a door, which acc ompanied the whining and growling, made me think that he was confined s'mewhere in the ja-d. While listening to these stands, I was able to identify the first as the same made by the white, shaggy dog I had pass'd at the store; the second I supposed to mad< by the grey-hound Dandie, but under what circumstances I could not then conjecture, exccept that he was confined. There then come a moment when neither the distant cough of the one, nor the whiningand growling of the other, was beard. In that moment I was startled to hear what I at once recogniz d as the breathing of a human being. It was so distinct and close at hand that I was sure some one was in the room. I kept still, considering what to do, and trying, but vainly, to locate the intruder. I felt convinced that th9 person in the room was aware of my knowledge of his presence, and was walchiDg me. I noticed now—it had escaped my notice when first awakened—that the door of the little room stood open; I was sure that it was closed when I went to bed, I lay listening, to the irregular breathing of my skulking visitor until I grew nervous. I had removed my pislol from the pocket of my vest to my valise, which sat on the ii >or on one s : de of the fire-place. It was unlocked, and on opening it, the pistol would be within my grasp. Having become nervous, as 1 said, listening to the suppressed respirations of the man concealed in my apart ment, I concluded I would feel easier if the derringer were transfered from the valise to my hand. With a quick movement I threw off the cover ing, leaped from the bed, and sprang towards my valise. I had hardly touched the floor, how ever, when I was siez-d about the ankles by two strong arms, my feet were suddenly lifted high into the air, and I was thrown headlong upon the floor. I was so stunned by the fa’l that I conld not rise immediately. When I did regain my feet, my assailant had made good his escape. I proceeded at once to light a candle, that I might ascertain what my untimely visitor had been about. From the voices which I now heard in another part of the house, I was aware that the noise occasioned by my fall had awakened the family. I did not wish the ladies to be alarmed, so, when a servant came from them to inquire what the matter was, I sent them word that I had had a •*11, the circumstances of which 1 would narrate them in the morning. On the servants retiring, I bal proceeded at once to inspect the room. I found my papers for collection scattered over the table aDd floor. Without st pping to see if any of them were missing, I looked for my watch, which I had left in the pocket of my vest. It was not there. It was a gold watch, which had once belonged to my mother, but which, in her life time, she had given to me. I prized it highly, in fact would not have parted with it for many times its value in money; I was therefore, deeply chagrined at the discovery of its loss. I then descried my pocket book lying open on the floor. Picking it up I found it rifl -d of its contents. Fortunately I had made no collections, so my loss in money was slight, not more than fiflem dollars. Having ascertained this much, I proceeded to I was startled, so startled that I could not move, to see the frightful dwarf that had robbed me, and then had the effrontery to gaz» at me through the window. I lay still -because I could not do otherwise—ar.d watched him. He advanced straight towards the picture of the child, and as he went, a low buzzing, biasing nois i proceeded from his mouth, that sent a sudden cold sensation darting and twisting through every fibre of my body. On coming beneath the picture he tried to grasp it with his big, rough hands. Not being able to reach it he placed a chair beneath it on which he mounted, and was j ist about to seize it with his defacing hands, when, with a great effort, I broke the strange power which had bound me, andstirted up. As I did so the vision vanished. The picture was undisturbed, there was no chair beneath it, and the door of the little room was closed. I knew then, much to my relief that I had been sleeping, and had been thns rudely awakened by a dream. I settled back upon my pillow, a.nd,sqon (ell. into a deep, .untroubled i- in mb e_r. CHAPTER VI. Sunhise at Sundown Wh r n I awoke the next morning, the light of the rising sun was streaming through the part ly opened blinds of the window across my bed, Without loss of time I arose, fiat I might put my kind hostess to no inconvenience by delay ing breakfast. Ordinarily, I felt sure there would have been no need to have hurried my toilet, but I had some reason for supposing that on that morning breakfast would be ready earl ier than it had been in a long time before. The resnlt proved that I had not hurried myself need lessly, for I w .3 no sooner dressed than I was summoned to the breakfast table. Here I found Mrs. Goldie and George; Kite I was informed, had gone off some time before on horseback, and had not yet returned. During the meal 1 recounted to Mrs. Goldie and her son the events of the preceding night. Mrs. Goldie showed not only surprise, but alurm on heaving these details, George wondered where Dandie was, to whom, it seemed, they trusted much iD guarding the place. Then, when I told of the grow’ing, whining and scratching noises I had heard, and which ap peared to be made by some dog near at hand, G <orge was swore that Dandie had been shut up in an outhouse, one in which he often slept at night, and that he, being aware of the presence of a stranger on the pr mists, had, by these noises, shown his desire to be released. ‘But how was it that he was thus confined ?’ I asked. ‘That has happened quite frequently,’ George answered; ‘there are articles kept in the house of some value, and it ought to be locked up ev ery night, I suppose, but it is not—only when some one passes by and thinks of it.’ This point being thus explained, we next dis cussed the identity of the bold intruder. But here we were wholly at s^a. No person such as I described either lived in the neighborhood, or had been seen in it, a 5 far as my auditors knew. I began to realize the fact, and with not very complacent feelings, that the robbery had been successfully executed, and that I must face, with vice, nevertheless she took the pistol, quietly saying as she did so: ‘I will try to do as you say. ’ •You have just entered,’ Miss Kite,’ I contin ued, taking her hand preparatory to saying good bye, ‘into a road that is new to you; as I have said before, it is besit with many difficulties, and some dangers, but it leads to independence! G md-bye.’ She spoke only the word good-bye, but her earnest eyes as they looked into mine, and the heightened color in her cheeks, said more They expressed the thanks—though I was not con scious of deserving any—that her lips did not speak; they showed too, that the enthusiasm of her nature had been aroused. Assured of this I could not but hope for the best, for the aim of the enthusiast is al ways possible. A half hour later, I was sitting in my buggy in front of Archie Yocum’s house, patiently waiting the arrival of that individual, who ha-) been 6 nt for from the fi Id. Presently I saw him approaching He came on witn has’e, and with a puzzled look in his honest face, so sel dom was it that he was thus called from his work. His clothes were of course material, and cut without any regard to fasniou; his features, too, were homely, but were those of an honest man. I noticed, when he came near, that he was cross-eyed. I got out of the bnggy to meet him, and intro duce myself. Then, first declining his inviti- tion to enter the house, I proceeded to make known the obj c‘ of mv visit. This I did in a straightforward manner, as if I knew myself to be talking to a friend of the G >ldie family. I spoke unreservedly of Mrs. Goldie's condition, of the urgent necessity for some one to look af ter her farming interest, who would watch it closely and thoughtfully, and that Miss Kite had undertaken to do this. ‘And now, Mr. Yocum,’ I said in conclusion, ‘this is really a great undertaking for the young lady. Her neighbors will pronounce it unwise, and predict that she will abandon it in a week. But I know her better; she will persevere in it. And knowing the difficulties that she must con tend with, and how often she will be puzzled to know what to do, because she is wholly ignor ant of the work, I thought I would ride over and ask you, in whom she has great confidenoe, to help h-r by your advice, whenever the opportu nity occurs.’ ‘Why, bless me! sir, but wont I be the glad dest in the world to do it; not that I think my advice worth much,’ he answered, in an out spoken, cheery way, looking me straight in the face with one ^ :_'shile the other seemed in tently fixed on ini tieaooTmy horse' A id 111* not wait for her td come to me first, but I’ll ride over there this very day—if ye think it bast now —just to see what she is about.’ •It will be well,’ I answered. ‘It will make her feel easier to know that she has a friend near at hand, to whom she can go in an emergency. She is a fine rider; and, hereafter, when she is puzzled about anything, it will take but a few minutes to look you up.’ ‘Jus’so! he answered, ‘and I'm sure I'll be proud to help in aay wa: I can, Mis; Katie, who is the bonniest lass in all this country, sir. But as for friends near at hand—why, she will not lack for them. Tliere is one, living some near er to her than I do, brother Swetwell Confound Brother Sw6twell!’ I exclaimed, looking into the open face of old Archie Yocum, and listening to his homely but sincere speech, I gladly recognized the spirit of Him who taught his followers to defraud no man. And I could not but reflect how little cause he had to envy the glib tongue of his false brother, which could so accurately imitate the forms and fervency of devotion. I am grieved at all times, to look up on a hypocrite, for of such a one there is no hope. In this case I rejoiced, not that Swet- well was a hypocrite, but that I knew what he was After a moment's silence, in which I in dulged some such reflections as these, I siid: ‘The truth is, Mr. Y ocum, ‘Miss Kate is deter mined to have no other counsellor in farm ma ters than yourself. She ha; confidence in your judgment. You know what to plant, when to plant it, and how to cultivate it. You know, too, which lands should lie fallow, which should be reclaimed, and how reclaimed. You know how fences are to be repaired, and where they should run. It is about such matters as these that she will need your advice, and I know thatyou will cheerfully give it.’ He answered me in his own cheery, out-spok en way that nothing would give him more pleas ure. After which, bidding him goo 1-bye, I turned my horse’s head in the direction of Sun down, for I had business with the qnaint-look- ing proprietor of its single mercantile establish ment. (TO BE CONTINUED.) A PARIS TR AGEDY The Blonde and Brunette. The telegraph lightning throws a flish on the most dramatic scandal which Paris has beheld from the gay balconies and private loges from which the aristocracy looks on the stage of so ciety, where the swells themselves may alter nately be audience and players. The Marquise de Varbaray has suicided, and her noble husband, in the prologue, gives the moral of a tragedy of passions, cards, wine, wo men and murder. Fifteen years ago two young girls, whose beiuty was as remarkable as the contrast be- | whicVhas become hard and dry, separate them tween the tawny splendor of one arnd the jumi- ftnf} replant in f r3S h earth; and then I begin to water freely every day, pouring ou hot water, Household Departm3nt Field, Garden and Fireside. Bee Culture in Peiif ction. —Tie mos. perfect system of bee culture is prac ised m N -w Y irk S‘ate. Mr. Hetherington, of Cherry Valley, is the maker of the mos' approved hive. It resembles a miniature two-story house. The first story is the brood chamber, and the “ supply honey ” is stored on some large square frames placed side by side in the chamber. The queen of the hive usually occupies four or five of the middle frames. The secon 1 s ory of the hive is divided fro u the brood chamber by a pine floor, with six holes to admit the bees. T vlove square frames, each side of a frame being about an inch and one-half wide and five inches long, are p'aced over the brood chamber. The frames, when placed side by side, resemble Har- bison’s sec'ional box, except that they not fas ten d together. A strip of tin or paper is laid bs-tweenthe frames This is to prevent the bees from uniting the comb in one frame to the comb adj fining. The insect; seem to understand the idea of the inventor, for they build one cimb in- each frame, perfectly square in form and not en croaching the slightest degree on the c *<mbs of honey to the right an l left of it. When all the Lames are filled thoy are remov id from the hive. A pane of glass is placed on each side of the oomb, a paper cap is s afed over both ends of the frame and tho honey is ready to ship to E urope. Twelve frames or box is of honey are packed in a crate, and the average weight of a crate of honey is twenty-five ponnds. Calla Lilies in Winter.—A lady writes- ‘As soon as my Calla has finished b'oim* ing in the spring or winter, I cat all the top away even with the soil in which it^ is growing; then turn the box over on the side; against a wall or fence, so that no rain eau get to it. The roots remain thns all summer. Tais is to give them a good long rest, that the plant may bloom more freelv the next season. The first of September, I take the roots up from the soil, nous brilliancy of the other, astonished the loungers of the Boulevards and caused what the gay Frencbmtn calls an eblnissement but being careful not to let it touch the young sta’ks and leaves which soon appear’ la a short The Blonde and the Brune, Bohemians and leaves are large, and" of a rich, dark all the rage in the lurid glare of the deni sreen jjow ^ e0 p it where it will receive the monde. . .. „ I warm rays of the sunshine, putting it in the hot- Atnadine and Francoise were the sjnonyms of | bons0 before frost. By the mi bile of winter it two elements of sinister beauty, which strangely j - 8 bean tif u i with its white flowers and unfold ing buds. combined the animal and the aesthetic qualities with which the amorons poets of all times love to inv 3t their heroines. Alter a midnight orgie, the murder of a rich lover sent both the beau ties to prison for two years, from which one em erged a penitent, the other a fiend. Amadine was etherealized into a blonde angel, Francoise was intensified into a beauti ful tigress, smooth, velvety and insinuating, but hiding he.-fell claws beneath the satin-cast To Make a Hanging Basket.—Nothing is easier or prettier; any simple form will an- sVYerCut out of the pasteboard and cover with moss, which can be done with a little thick flour paste’, suspend them by cords, and fill with drooping evergreens; the common garden run ning m”rtle is very suitable, as it droops so gracefully. Then mingle with the green, im- ioned sheaths, like Cleopatra describes herself | inortellas, berries, gr s as, or the fluffy down of in her dream. The beautiful blonde, Amadine, \ tbe wild clematis; you have no idea how hand- met a noble marquis two years afterwards, and SO me such baskets look, and they have t le ad- at the very first sight he fell in love with her as ; V an<a ;e of being adapted to all sorts of posi- she appeared in the character of a demure gov- tions; they look well suspended from an arch- eraess. When she appeared in the salons of ; W ay, or the chandelier, or the centre of the ceil- Paris 'ashious the plus grand monde did not re- j n g. If you choose, you c m make them flat at cognizi the street-walKing beauty of a few years j the back, and hang them direc’ly against the previous, and, with the marvelous tact of a wo- ! wall. Sometimes they need not be covered with man and a coquette, she acquired the elegance , moss at all, but made just si as to support a which can only come with blue blood, accord- ( pretty bunch ot greenery, and be concealed by ing to the autocratic idiocy of fashion. Her j it; in that case the more trailing things you noble husband was madly in love with her, and j have the better.’ highly proud of her,but he had been a libertine, j -—- - and one night he met a lady of the demi monde Imitation Coral —Take small branches of so superbly beautiful that, like a romantic Par- af>m0 g jj rn b; pull off the bark and dry them, isian, he ijas captured by what they call in | together $ pound of red sealing wax, and their tongue ‘bcaule du diabie ’ ‘Hi-Twriie missed j OQ0 oz beeswilY; dip in th - branches and him from his place for many nights, and, with | tnrn be f ore a gentle fire until smooth and per- the quick intuition of a lady who had studied 1 f ec *iy covered. Plum Pudding —Take the crumbs all the branches of coquetry, she suspected that she had a rival, and the suspicion became con viction when s ie detected that her husband had taken a diamond necklace which was a wedding gift. To find a victorious rival is short work for the female curiosity, sharpened by revenge and jealousy, and at the end of two weeks, by the aid of a thread of soandal, Amadine, M irquise de Varbaray, surprised her noble husband in the plaie of all others where a husband should not bav > been. The beautiful blonde had been etherealiz d by prison, suffering, remorse, hun- love, and last, and holiest of all ger, marriage, -— , with more energy perhaps, than the case de- ^formers 0 f female depravity, by maternity; but when she perceived the inconstancy of the gather up my scattered papers. Having doae the best grace I could, the loss of my much this, and looked through t iem, I was surprised to?! priz'd watch, find one of them missing -the note of Mr£,| To Goldie. I searched again for the missing papef but it could not be found. I was sure that I brought this note with me, for I remembered having seen it on several occasions since leavig' Cuthbert. I was very strange, I thought, that this one alone of all my papers should h been taken. What was the meaning of ift i asked myself, and who was the bold perpethwir of this robbery? Tired of asking this *Hn question, I at length, opened my valiese to put mv papers where they would be more secure than in the breast pocket of my coat. Having done this, I took out my derringer, determined to keep it within reach for the remainder of that night at least. My attention was now directed to the con tinued whining and growling of the dog in the yard, and to the sound like the scratching of bis paws upon the floor I had before noticed. These sounds indicating, I thought, increased uneasi ness on the part of the dog. I took up the candle and went into the small apartment for the pur pose of examining it, and perhaps, that part of the premises adjacent to it. I advanced to tho middle of the room, and held the lighted candle above my head. ’ The outer door was open. As I started towards it, there came somewhere from the darkness a hiss’- ing, whirring sound that frozi the blood in my veins, and made me stand in my tracks with the rigidity of a marble statue. He who has once heard the sharp whizzing of the rattlesnake can never forget it, and it was that sound filling the room, curdled my blood, and made me afraid to move a hair’s breadth. While it con tinued all other sounds ceased; the whining dog in the yard, I duobted not, was erouohing calm Mrs. Goldie’s fears, I told her that forewarned was forearmed; that George must keep his gun loaled, and where he could al ways put his bands on it; and furthermore, he must see to it every night that Dandie was not shut up in that outhouse. The evidences of decay on every side were now much more clearly visible than on the eve ning before. The palings around the front yard were dingy with age, while many of them were missing; the missing ones being replaced by rough strips of board, without regard to fit ness. There was an orchard across the road in front, or rather what was left of one. Out of several hnndred trees that once fliurishe l there only a few stood entire, and these, I had no doubt, from long neglec 1 , had ceased to be fruit ful. The trees in the grove had been long neg lected, while the rail fences and outhouses seem ed ready to fall to the groun l for want of re pairs. There was a solitary cow, lean and hun gry looking, standing on the sunny side o c the carriage house,the sole representative, doubtless sentative, doubtless, of a once large and fruit ful herd. J ust as I made these observations, which oc cupied me but a few moments, Miss Kate ap peared upon tho scene. She wa; on horseback, and accompanied by Dandie. Looking upon her as she came towards me; upon her graceful form, and into her young, fresh face, more beau tiful for the earnest look it wore, how changed the Bcece became ! There might be desolation near at hand and wide spread, but it came not nigh her: rather did the sense of it vanish at her approaoh. After our morning salutation had passed I said: mauded. •■Why. how, what is this ?’ he stammered out, while his eyes zigz '.gged across me. ‘What has Brother Sw tveil been doing? I thought he was a good friend of their’n, and had been kind er looking after their business?’ ‘Much good his looking afeer has done them,’ I rej lined. ‘But Miss K ite will not seek ad vice from Stephen Swetwell; all that she gets from him will be thrust upon hor.’ For some reason I had formed a vuy unfavor able opinion of this man whom I had never seen and of whom I had learned very little. A little reflection made me think that perhaps I had spoken bas‘ily, and had judged the man harsh ly; that he was, after all, a friend to Mrs. Gol die and her family, and had been trying to serve them. These thoughts made me ashamed of my words, yet I would not unsay them. After a short pause, I askel: ‘What do you know of Mr. Swetwell? Have you ever had any transactions with him ?’ ■What do I know of him ?’ he said, his tones indicating surprise at my question ; ‘why, aint he one of the main stays of our church down there at Sundown ? Wlio is ready with a word both in tne church and the Sunday-school, as Brother Swetwell? And as for prayin’, sir, it would do you good to hear him ?’ I had my doubts about that, but I let him go on. ‘Have I had any transactions with him ? Let me see—yes sir, some two or three in times past. I bought a mule from him occ:; a large, fine- looking mule he was. Brother Swetwell said that he was perfectly sound, and wonld work anywhere, so I took him without trial. The next morning I noticed that he refused to eat, and when I led him from the stall he began to stagger about. I knew what was the matter, and went to work on him, but I could not save him. In twenty-four hours he was dead.’ ‘Y m said, I believe, that you have had two or three transactions with him? said I seeing that he stopped. ‘Yds, yes, I had my cotton ginned a*, his gin- house once. It was before I had mine built. I made tin bales that year, so I calculated, bat I got only s von He muat have let somebody steal the cotton from the gin house.’ ‘Of course. What else?’ ‘N othing else in that line that I think of. Bat, sir, Brother Swetwell is a go-a head sort of a man; he is a whole team, sir, that’s what he is. If anything is to be done, he is the man to do it. Yes, and Bio.her Swetwell subscribes lib’rally to the preacher. Last year, sir, he headed the list with fifty dollars.’ And the honest old man spoke it as if he thought it quite a oreditable thing to head a church list with fifty dol.ars. ‘Yes sir, fi'ty dollars.' he repeated. ‘O lly last week I was talkin'to one of our stewards about it, and he was tollin’ me that Brother Swetwell had paid only two dollars and fifty cents so far, bat —he does pray so beautiful, sir!' I could have laughed a little wicked langh of exultation at the Bimple narration of the unsus pectingold man, but I did not wish to affront him. The opinion, then, that I had formed of Swetwell was eorrect. He was a hypoorite. In lord whom she loved, the father of her child, the old devil came back, and she stood in the dark, vainly peering after the face of her rival, and longing fir a dagger like a modern Clytem- nestra. Her husband had a beautiful collection of arms in his noble old ancestral mansion in the Faubourg St. Germain, and among the rare spe cimens of murderous weapons was a long, beau tiful dagger, keen as a gleam ot lightning, which a Crusader had captured from a Turk. At midnight a pale shadow stole into the house of Amadino’s rival, and at two o clock that beauty returned from a debauch after the opera, having left the marquis at the door. She retired and rang for her maid, and the pale shadow of a woman answered the sum mons. ‘Si you are here,’ said the dark beauty, angry at having waited a moment ‘Yes, lam here,’ said the Marquise de Var baray. ‘I thought it was my maid,’ gasped the now frightened woman. •It is your executioner,’ said a familiar voioe, and the companions in shame of former years recognized each other. Taey had been bosom friends, united by that companionship in the fight against a cruel world, and accomplices in crime, cell-mates in prison, but they fronted each other now as ri vals. The wild and frantic shrieks that appalled the quiet night called a crowd, who broke open the door, and there found the blonde and brune both dead, the murderess and the suicide, and the keen Turkish dagger was the first thing to tell them that one of the women was the coun tess de Va rbaray .—Capital. The Pi-luce Imperial. In 18G6, when Napoleon III. was in his glory, he united with the Empress m makink a will— sue leaving to him, in case of her death, her Wednesday i a9 t the long separated couple were modest fortune, and he leaving to the Empress . joined in the bonds of wedlock. Captain ..ii nn.lnr the lmnression “• j . . . , , • , 1 Small from a six cent loaf, two ounces ot butter, half a pound of chopped raisins half a c ip of brown sugar, a little finely cut orange and lemon can died peel, a lemon grated, a cup of good milk, three eggs, and a half a pound of Z mtec irrauts e'eaned dry. Mix well, and boil for two hours; it is eaten with sauce. It is good baked. Hungary Water.—To make this favorite per fume, take of fresh rosemary in blossom four pounds, fresh sage in blossom six ounces, gin ger in s’iees, two ounces; cut up fine and mix; add rec'ified spirits twelve pounds, and common water two pints Let it distil by a gentle heat. It is an excellent stimulating liaiment, and is taken in small quantities internally sometimes, as a gentle restorative and stimulant. English Plum Pudding.—Oae bowlful suet, two bowlfuls bread crumbs, one bowlful raisins, measured after having b'en chopped fine aDd seeded; half a bowlful of citron, cut in small pieces-.’aix eggs, two 1 irge wine-glassfuls brandy, two nutmegs; boil four hours and s-rve with wine sane i. It is better to boil two hours on one day, and the remaining time the day on which it is to be eaten. Ten million dozen eggs have been received in the Cincinnati market during the year. Divorced and Married Again. Captain Jack Kirs’iaw, ot G mzales county, Texas, was united in marriage last week to Mrs. S Fisher, of Dallas county. Tairty year3 ago, Jack Kershaw, then a steamboat clerk, married a beantifui young woman of twenty, and some ten years his junior. Their temperaments were incompatible, and after two years of married life they were divoroed, Mrs. Kirshaw going to her father’s home in Tennessee, with her infant daughter. Three years later she became Mrs. Fisher, and accompanied her husband to Texas, who located in Dallas oounty. The war called Mr. Fisher to the front, and in the war at Mans field, Louisiana, he was killed. Kirshaw, con tinuing in the steamboat business, became a popular captain on the lower Miss : ssippi, amass ed a competency, and married M;ss E nma Al exander, a reigning belle of Memphis. Trouble fell upon him in his second marriage, and he was made a widower. Miss Kershaw the issue ot his first marriage, wa3 married. O i her re moval to St. Louis all communication with Mrs. Fisher coased except through her son-in-law. Eight months ago Mrs. F.sher receive 1 a letter from her first husband, the purport of whicn can be s irmised by subsequent events. Ou all his worldly goods, under the impression that he was bequeathing the throne of France to his son. A little contretemps at Sedanchanged the aspect of affairs. Wnen Napoleon died, in 1873, he had not male a new will, and Eugenie therefore came into pcs session of an annual in come of 450 000 francs, or about $00 000. Tiie young Princ > had an income $8000 in his own right, which he inherited from Prince Baccio- ohi. In order that the young Priuce may make an advantageous marriage, Eugenie, like a good mother, has conveyed to him property sufficient to give a yearly income of $60,000, and now it is expected that half the reigning families in Eu rope will be setting their traps to catch this eligible son-in-law. ‘When a man’s chin whiskers turn gray before the hair on bis head does, it sh jws which part of him has done the most work,’ observes a philosophical exihahger K'rshaw is sixty-five, and his bride fifty-one. T ie above particulars ar« obtained from a per sonal friend of Captain K urshaw, who vouches for their truthfulness. Pace to Faee With Disease. How often it happens that although we have wit nessed the ravages of disease in the case of others, we disregard his warning signals in our own. It is only when we find him face to face with ns that we really perceive how grim he is. Then, perchance, when it is too late, medicinal aid is sought. His avant courier, his forerunner, is physical weak ness. Fortify the system, and you are armed against him. The finest tonic for this purpose is Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters, which renders diges tion easy and complete, nourishes the system, im proves the appetite, gives strength, yielding sleep, counteracts billlousnoss, and keeps the bowels in first rate order. Leanness and unnatural wanness and sallowness of the face, are obviated by it, and so genial and benefleient are its affects that not only is the body invigorated and regulated r use, but despondency banish from the mind.