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VOL. V, J. M. & W B. SEALS,} *£
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ATLANTA GA. f MAY 24. 1879.
Terms in advance:} 2?nu?e c “o,§?o
No. 203,
A uaku.\i) or i K5i;xi».snu».
I1Y EMMATH.A'KEK KAYE.
“How slight a cause may move
Dissension between hearts that love.”
A garland of friendship is broken:—
Its leaves are now sullied with tears,
’Twas only a few words “sharp spoken”
llroke this garland—close woven for years.
The flowers are dying—they're fading;
If I’ity could nurse it with dew,
Or sweet love revive it by sighing,
This garland would once more be new.
The purest of odors it yielded,
Its bloom was a kiss on the air;
Now Friendship forsakes, and wontshieldit,
This gar'audso fragrant and fair.
It slept in the snow of the moonbeams—
Was cherished by loved ones, at night—
It glittered in rays of the sunbeams,
This garland of friendship so bright.
Come hither, sweet Fancy and silently twine
Another gay garland for me;
If the flowers be bright, and thy smiles only
mine,
Then Funri/'s not /•'rietuMiip’t ‘twill be.
New Orleans, Faster .Sunday.
"FORTY YEARS AGO.”
Drill in? Sands from ilie 3ionn(ains
and Foot-hills of Xorllioust (it*or?ia.
A Brilliant Homance Based Upon Facts.
By G. J. N. WILSON.
CHAPTER V.
One day wh'le tiin -■ engaged his cottage door was
suddenly darkened, and he looked around to learn
the ■ >iuse. If a peal of thunder, roiling along the
would not have been mole surjrr i><
the door-wav stood Willie Montgomery, with open
arms to receive him.
Willie had been absent at school m New 'i ork for
three Ion" years, and for all this time they had not
seen eaclYother. Though much changed ill pt rsonal
appearance, 11 illies handsome face was known at
once, and in an instant they were locked in each
other's arms.
“Welcome '. thrice welcome, to my woodland
home,” exclaimed Julius with delight. “It seems
like an age since I saw you. 1 hope you are well,
and that you have come to stay with me a long
time.”
“1 am well, mv dear friend,” replied “Willie, “but
I cannot stav with you long on the present occasion.
However, father is now in the at- of moving to his
plantation near by, and when all things are prop
erly arranged in <*ur new home, I hope to be your
freouent companion until ! letmn to college*. I
have only called in this afternoon to see you and
this remarkable house, of which I have heard so
much.” , . , ,
“I thank you for this mark of respect, and the
pleasant news you bring, by-tlie wa^, vvliat do
you think of mv house ?
' “Well, it is so entirely different from any thing
I have ever seen before that I do not know liow to
express myself. It is at once, so novel and pictu
resque that were I a poet or painter, my first eilort
should be to make a description of it. By what
name should I call it?”
“Azilia. You remember the waif of history you
once told me in regard to this name being applica
ble to the territory embracing the State of Georgia.
1 like it b cause i' has a smack of romance that
seems to be in keeping with w hat 1 intend this spot
to be—a garden of rare culture and beauty. \\ hat
do you think of th: name yourself ?”
“I like the name very much, and it would sound
well iu inv poem. \ on say ilitit it is romantic; but
do vou know of any romance connected with it l
“T do not. The thought entered my mind for
some reason that 1 cannot explain. ”
• Then let me tell you there is some truth in what
seems to you only imaginarion. lama descendant,
in a direct line, of sir Robert Montgomery, to
whom all this fair land was once granted, as men
tioned in the waif of history to which you have just
referred.”
“How very strange, Willie, that after tlie lapse
of more than a century, the tw o names should be
again so closely associated.
"Yes; it is strange that-one of the Montgomery
family should again come in contact with the name
of Azilia; but why do you say ‘closely associated?
“Look there!” replied Julius, pointing to tlie
book-case and picture. “Look there, and tell me
whether > ou are in anvwav associated w ith Azi
lia r”
“Why. do you think me associated with these
things, further than to love and admire them?”
“Because, it is just like you. No one else had a
heart large enough to bestow such a princely gift
upon a poor, unknown boy. So tell me, Willie, who
left these charming pictures and hook-case here?”
"I had hoped that you w ould not mention this
subject at all—at least for the present. You, how
ever, put the question so directly, it requires me to
say that I have some knowledge of the transac
tion.”
“Then please tell me all you know about it. I
hope to l e able some day to pay, at least iu part,
the debt I owe my generous benefactor.”
“Then, since you are so deeply concerned about
the matter, 1 will tell you. Three years ago when
1 entered college, I was placed in a class from
which I selected eleven boys for intimate friends
and constant companions. I made this selection
because they were all nearly of my own age, and
so far as I could judge, we were all of the game
habits and dispositions. I was fortunate in the
selection: for the pleasure of one was the pleasure
of the others, and we had all things in common.
Through the hours of study, in the recitation room,
in our hunting and fishing excursions, at church,
everywhere, all were together, enjoying the same
pleasures, and feeling tin* same sorrow s. From the
beginning’we were the best of friends, and so re
main to this day. This long and constant associa
tion, without even a silent thought of discord to
break in upon the delightful intercourse, became
so generally known to the public, that we were, by
common consent, called "The Twelve Brothers.”
'Our intimacy presented many opportunities for
PROGRESS OF FASHION FROM SIXTEEN' HUNDRED AND SIXTY EIGHT TO EIGHTEEN HU ,'DRED AND SEVENTY FIVE
social conversation, and I sometimes spoke of you
in such terms as to enlist the interest of the entire
class in your behalf. One of them Theodore fen-
ton by name, and as noble a fellow as ever lived
was sometimes so deeply affected by your history,
that he wept like a child. Their interest in you
seemed to increase, and one day Theodore, whom
we looked upon as something of a leader, proposed
that the class write, and present you with a library.
The proposition was received without a dissenting
voice, and items were proposed and added to the
list until it was made out as you received it, except
the book-case, which was afterwards added by my
father.
“The articles being all ready, and intrusted to
my care, I wrote the superscription which you have
doubtless seen on the fly-leaves of all your books,
putting onlv T. T. B., for “The Twelve Brothers.
Four weeks' ago the third year of our college course
ended, and I soon safely arrived at home with your
present. 1 requested my father to convey it to
you in such a manner that you would not know
from whence it came. This, after placing all t lie
articles in the book-case, he cheerfully consented to
do, and' while on his way to the plantation, he left
them here when you were absent. This is all I have
time to tell you now. On some future occasion, I
may tell vou more of The Twelve Brothers, and of
mv connection with the name of your charming
cottage—Azilia.”
“Say to your classmates when you meet them
again, that I thank them with all my heart foi the
invaluable present, and that my daily aim and
object shall be to render myself, so far as I possibly
caii worthy of the generous consideration of all.
To yourself and father, I offer a heart full of grat
itude and love, and a friendship that shall be de
voted to your service through life. Before you
leave me, if not too much trouble, be so kind as to
give me a list of the names of The Twelve Broth-
el “ Most cheerfully. I will give them to you in
the same order that we always place them our
selves; and you will n itice that there is something
peculiar in the arrangement:
1. Eugene Bartow,
2. Urvale Raymond,
-i. Gustavus OrimUid,
Edgar
Neander
Everar-1
Bertrand
Arthur
Mlolph
1 * Trance,
Hillburn,
Eustace,
Ri isser.
Sylvester,
Curtis,
10. Theodore Fenton,
11. Orlando, Monroe,
12. Willie Montgomery.
“Charming names !” exclaimed Julius, “but
what is the peculiarity of which you speak?”
“Notice shat th-* inti rial letter of each one's given
name, will spell the first name on the pst. Thus,
E, U, G. E. N. E B, A, R. T. 0, W, Eugene Bar
tow, Now take tli-initial letters of the eight-first
sur names, and they will spell the word Brothers—
the main part of the name by which we are com
monly known. When we consider that some of
these students live more than a thousand mil**s
apart, and that they were entire strangers before
they met in the class room, is it not strange that
their names are capable of such a curious combina
tion—the letters of the first name running down
the list, and with the initials of the others, spelling
itself over again, thus blending all in one. This
arrangement of our names was made and discov r *d
by Annette Fenton, the beaut .tin and accomplish d
sister of Theodore. Though I cannot give any good
reason for it, there is something about this lovely
creature and her brother that always carries my
mind to home and yourself, so much so that it
makes my head feel dreamy and mystified when 1
think about, it."
An indefinable expression pissed over Willie’s
feature as he thus disclosed his account of “The
Twelve Brothers.” Julius, too was absorbed in
thought-, and as if communing with himself only,
audibly muttered*
“This is very strange indeed. I wish I knew all
of this singular history.”
“The history of sonic on this list is very peculiar,”
replied Willie, thoughtfully. “Sometime, as 1
have already said. I inin/ tell you more, continued
he, placing particular stress on the word nut;/, and
turning to go.
“Please stay as long as you can,” said Julius,
earnestiy.
“I have already staid over my time; but tins
interview has been so pleasant, and this place so
romantic, that I am loth to go away. Azilia! Azi
lia! I have read the story of Philip Quirl who built
[din a house after this fashion while living alone
upon an island in the sea. Then there is the cele
brated maple, tree of Mat tales, that contains all the
parts of a house from the basement floor to the
attic stairway. But the first existed only in fancy,
and tiie other was fostered by the care of kings and
queens through a long series of years. I bad not
expected to find the counterpart of these in the
swamps of Georgia. But 1 stay too long. Father
is awaiting me, and I must hasten on. I will call
in as I return, to tell you goodbye, and perhaps,
father will accompany me.”
“I will he glad to see you both,” said Julius, as
Willie turned and went out at the door.
The star of hope had never shone so brightly on
the poor boy’s pathway ns at this time. The en
couragement, he had received, his well filled library,
the success attending his * ft i ts to secure a natural
house, and th:* prospect of soon having his friend
and benefactor for a near neighbor, all combined
to make liis heart unusually light. But
“Life i • not all sunshine,
Nor is it all showers;
Over some are scattered thorns,
And over others flowers.”
As he watched Willie d-.--appear in the distance,
he little thought of the dark cloud that was soon to
pass over his sunny sky. After reading an hour,
he was listlessly looking out at the door, studying
over the events of the day. Seeing some one ap
proaching, iu* arose from iiis seat to have a better
view, when he reeognizt <1 his father with an axe
in one hand and a large stick in the other. Mad
dened with whiskey, he staggered to the door, say
ing—
“I have come to teach you better than to stay
down here in the swamp like un animal. I intend
to break up this business and you shall never have
another holiday to spend in your toolish whims,
and—”
At, this word Julius turned to go out at the win
dow, when the inhuman wretch struck him a blow
on the head with his stick that knocked him bleed
ing and senseless upon the floor. Then taking his ^
axe he began to cut on one corner of the cottage,
iiice pierced the
■nine its pleasing
1 i.t when he had given a few strokes, a heavy 1 an-
was laid upon his shoulder and a stern voice com
manded him to “hold still.”
Looking around he found himself confronted by
John Montgomery and his son Willie, who, accord
ing to promise, had called by upon their return
home. As usual with drunk "men, all efforts to
induce Latrain to put down his axe, only made
him worse. By a sudden movement, however
\\ dlie siezed the madman’s arms and holding the,:
ill the grasp of a giant, Mr. Montgomery wrenched
it from his hands. At this moment a groan w a -
heard in the house and going to the door, Willie
discovered Julius struggling upon the floor. Hor
rified, he raised him to his feet, but the poor ho*
could not stand. Willie immediately carried him
to his mother and after helping to dress the wound
carefully, he returned to the cottage where he had
left lus father and Latrain in an argument con
cerning tie* intemperate use of ardent spirits
Willie was sent home with thi wagon, but theeldei
Montgomery remained r<> secure the protection of
the suffering boy an*I make an earnest effort to
bring at out the reformation of his father.
Night came on and that stdl hush of nature which
tails so heavily on those who are ill at rest, was
broken by tne mad ravings of the drunken father
the cries of a sorrowing mother, and the groans of
the suffering s* n.
At length exhausted nature yields and the mad
man fall-into a deep sleep, but the night is stiff
made hideous \\ ith his convulsive struggles and
unearthly snoring. An entire family is bleeding at.
his feet—the work of Lis own hands.
J itu the coming day lu* mouses himself ami
stares wildly around. Presently his eyes fall upon
I the tall and comma! ding form of Mr. Montgomery
standing at his bedside. The good man speaks t:
him in a kind, but firm tone of voice. In eloquent
terms he exhorts him to forsake his cups and be
come a sober man—to wash his hands of the blood
now upon them. Long and tender was the en
treaty. but he remained firm and unyielding. Still
the deluded victim clings so what he terms “the
glorious liberty of drinking his dram when he
pleases."
But the .reformer still pleads his cause. His
touching appeals are too strong, even for the aban
doned. inebriate to withstand, and he solemnly
pledged himself new. r to drink another drop of the
demon’s drink—alcohol. Anil be it said to his
eternal honor, that Melville Latrain nrn-r l>roke
fh is prom ise.
t or till’ Inst time* Julius Latrain lia:( gon© bom©
wounded and bleeding—for tbw last tine bad bis
‘t,,.« ’.,at v"V‘“--'*.l',-* v,— ;;;Y'
vomit, a?idthesow lolier wallowing in the mire.’
and where the cry of anguish -
heart, joy and contentment be:
companions.
Through the influence of one good man, the once
dreary and desolate home was made cheerful and
happy and the sickening songs of drunken revelry
gave way to the hymns <*f praise and thanksgiving
—the fostering care of a gentle father took th-_-
place of a brutal tyrant—the noble ambition of a
promising son, made glad the w oods with his cheer
ful songs, where once hi* crouched in terror, and
with merry laugh and bounding leap he ran to
meet the father from whom he once stole away
with fear and trembling.
In a few weeks the wound on Julius’ head was
sufficiently healed to allow h m to venture abroad.
His father's reformation was the forerunner of
peace and prosperity at home and the harbinger of
success in the coming future. Hisskiesbrightened,
his spirits, which had recently been so nearly
broken, began to revive; and with ail the energy
of former days, he again went; to study.
Early in the month of February, Julius was sit
ting near the M illow Cottage in (h ep meditation,
when hearing voices in the distance, he looked,
around and was surprised to see bis father, Willie
and John Montgomery slowly walking to the Cot
tage. He met them with a hearty welcome and
politely invited them to go in the house and take a
seat.
“No.” said the elder Montgomery, “we have but
a short time to stay with you tin's afternoon and I
will at once explain to you the object of this visit.
By the consent of your father and at the solicita
tion of others, I have come to inform you that you
have been chosen for our teacher during the coin
ing summer and to ask you if you will accept the
position. There will be friends to sustain you in
this new field of labor; and while it wifi give you
opportunities to improve your own education and
enable you to make something tor yourself; it will
also be the means of making you serviceable to
others; for you must not forget that the true mis
sion of man is to live for one another.”
"My dear sir." replied Julius, “your proposition
amazes me beyond measure ! I am not prepared
to assume the duties of the schoolroom and should
consider the attempt to do so nothing less than,
mockery. I know nothing of school government,
and besides, my education is too limited to under
take the instruction of others.”
After much persuasion, however. Julius accepted
the propsitiou of his friends, though he never fully
gained the consent of his own mind to do so. It
was arranged that he should open school on the
first of the following April and continue for a term
of six months. These preliminaries being made,
liis father presented him with a written document,
releasing him from all obligations to labor on the
farm and giving him liberty to choose whatever
occupation he might see proper to pursue.
When left alone Julius gave himself to medita
tion upon the new field of labor that had so sud
denly opened before him and the liberty which
had been so unexpectedly given him A new era
had dawned upon the life of the boy-man—he was
free and soon to assume the duties of an occupation
that had but few f illowers at that time and place
and these like himself were limited in education ami
totally ignorant of the discipline of a well regulated
schoolroom, while thinking over these tilings, he
was much surprised to see M illie Montgomery re
turning alone.
“I am glad,” said Julius, as his friend came near,
“that you have returned so soon, for I feel myself
in su-h an awkward position that your presence, as
it has always been, will be of service to me this
afternoon. I have long cherished the idea of im
proving my house and its surroundings and on yes
terday matured my plans for doing so; but on
carefully thinking them over to day, I found that
I did not have time to do the M ork necessary to
carry them out. I felt very much dissppointed,
my prospects look brighter now and I am full of
hope for the coining future. I believe 1 have be
fore told you something of my wish to make this a
place of rare culture and beauty. I think it capa
ble of much improvement in various ways. See
vonder beautiful little valley running to the south,
I cleared the timber away from it several years
HiJWERS couicvoy