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I
THE SUNNY SOUTH.
BT BES.IE PAM HA I. WBICHT.
It was a hazrrdous thing for Charley Ei-
munds to marry Emmy Lewis in '67—just
two years after the war. Tney were both
sixteen in i80->, and had been sweethearts all
their 1 ves. The parting was bard, but he, a
bright, brave, frank-faced, curly-headed boy
was offered a Lieutenancy in the 2nd Geor-
gia R.giment, and it was his idea to fight for
home—and sentiment, as says now—at that
time, be put it “principle.”
Emmy,the daughter of a Presbyterian cler
gyman, was the beauty of the county,plump,
fair, blue-eyed and dimpled, a skin that
wouldn't freckle, and cheeks that were al
ways fresh and pink the hottest sultriest
weather when every one else paled and grew
hollow-eyed.
She was not a great enthusiast about the
Confederacy, but with four brothers in the
army, and a good-s zsi p anta ion to over
see she learned to knit, to sew, to spin, to
weave and to cut out and make men’s clothes
The pride of Captain Lewis’ heart was the
uniform his sister Emmy had woven and
tailored herself. It was sent to the poor.sick
lad in ’sixty four. He lived to wfear it home
afterward, but one sleeve hung empty, and
for many months be was an invalid. In his
faith in the new government and to cheer the
drooping hearts of nis people, old Pastor
Lewis had sold the larger part of his planta
tion for Confederate money. There was
enough at the close of the war to paper a
house. The negroes, poor souls, had all gone
to meet “Mars Lincum’s” army, and there
was only E.nmy and a forlorn old broken
hearted man to welcome the boys, an odd
number, but three to return. The pride of
the plantation was left at Chickamauga in a
lonely, unmarked grave. But E nmy with
her youth and health and her brave soldier
boy come back, was not altogether down
hearted.
Ch r ey was Col. Edmi.n lsnow-‘ l revette 1
for gallantry while on the field,” so General
Hood’s report read. His company bore the
colors, and while leading them to action,
three young men were killed and wounded.
Each time he picked up the colors (after the
first color sergeant was mortally hurt),hand
ing them to the nex r . soldier. When the last
one fell, shot through the heart, and a piece
of shell broke the flagstaff, young Edmunds
was seen with the shattered pole uuder his
arm, the colors almost wrapped around his
body, and his sword in the other band, his
voice crying. .‘‘On, boys! “Charge!” He
seemed to bear a charmed life after that, or
maybe his innocent, boyish face touched even
the enemy, for he came out of the encounter
without a scratch, and his brother, not a
stone’s throw away, lying dead with wide-
staring eyes*
Charlie returned to utter ruin and desola
tion; the grief of his parents so great at the
lo.-s of their first born, that they had scarely
heart to welcome the youngest home again.
But there was Emmy, and out of the wreck
there was “Mike!” h large, frisky, cheerful
mule—a mule with a tight, smooth coat,
and an aggressive black roach, instead of a
mane, big, intelligent eyes, strong,well made
supple and young. Charlie remembered him
as a colt of six months old when he left home,
and distinguished from the other little mules
by his extreme fondness for rolling. Go out
in the stableyard when you would Mike was
ou his side or back, kicking up his heels in the
air like an infant, braying and flirting his
tail with as much dexterity as a little darkey
using a fly brush.
“Dat Mike,” Uncle Peter said,“is gwine to
kill two thousand dollars worth er Mas.Chal-
ly’s niggers when he’s grow’d up. I done seed
it in his eye, young’s he is.”
Whether or not Mike would have fulfilled
this prediction is not known; for when he
“growed up” there were no niggers, and he
seemed kindly enough inclined toward white
folks. Charlie would go to the stables in the
afternoon, look sadly at the deserted stalls,
when presently, with a brisk whinney, Mike
would step out, rub his nose against the
shoulder of his master, and if he failed in at
tracting his attention in this, he would lie
down and roll.
It was some weeks before Charlie decided
what to do; though he might have decided at
o.ice. He bad nothing but a pitiable gray
uniform, a sword, and three confederate
bonds. There was the plantation and a few
log cabins. There was also perfect quiet,
plenty of time for deep thought. He was 1 o
sufficiently educated to teach. His friends
were all poor like himself. The place was
really the only thing left. On the other
hand, he had never raised a bale of cotton in
his life; be knew nothing about corn or veg
etables. But at length it was decided. Oue-
balf the plantation was rented on shares for
his father’s benefit; the other half he agreed
to work himself. It was then the actual
hardships began; he had been brought up
with all sorts of luxurious tastes, handsome
clothes, dainty table-ware, a blooded riding
horse, the newest books, magazines and pa
pers; hi- beautiful mother and grandmother,
tastefully dressed, conversant with all the
topics of the day. And now 1 After a day’s
woi k of horrible drudgery—the plowing, tt e
hoeing, the plant'1 g—he would cover his eyrs
with bis hands ana groan despondently as he
turned his steps to bis home and its discom
forts, its privations, and gloom, and the poor
mother, benumbed witu grief, her small
hands already beginning to be hardened by
labor.
But when Saturday afternoon came, Mike
was harnessed up, and cheerfully carried his
master to the adjoining plantation; and
Emmy—dear, cheerful, brave-hearted little
Emmy—her silk-worms were doing wonders;
several hundred dollars worth of silk she had
now, and four beautiful, new counterpanes,
woven with five tread es.
“And they look dear, just like dimity bed
spreads.”
Sometimes she bad something to cheer his
mother—a geranium, a Godey’s Lady’s Book,
or an apron she had made. Then when he
would start home, she would walk down to
the gate with him, and fasten a rose in Mike s
bridle, and give him a handful of salt, and
he would almost laugh; at least he shook his
upper lip and whinneyed amazingly when he
saw her coming.
After the first year’s hard work, Charlie
and Mike began to think of bringing Emmy
home. There was a new' cabin of two rooms
on the old place, a stable for Mike, a small
crib of corn, and some roses and honey
suckle and cape jessamine struggling to grow.
Emmy had set out the fl >wers herself, Char
lie driving Mike over early in the afternoon
for her.
Thus the summer and fall passed, and
they were married one br.ght, sunny day in
the early winter. It was a pretty wedding;
the church filled with evergreens and crirn*
son berries, chrysantheums, and wl it' honey'
suckle, mistlet >e lierries, and thrift. The
bride in spotless white and real orange bios
soms from an orange grove in Florida. The
groom slim, and straight and handsome. The
minister had b.ipt’zed the bride and eroom
when babies,on the same day; bad loved and
buried the brides mother: and ail the people
felt lovingly and tenderly toward this brave
young pair. Faithful Mike was in waiting
to drive them home, with a bright new bell
hanging from his neck, rendering him so
proud that he stepped very high, and made
no answer to this greeting of his fellow muies,
who bailed him on the road.
The first year of marriage, brought its sor
rows, and its joys to these poor young things,
but principally its never ceasing never end
ing work. Charbe when the crops were laid
by, went around from one planter to another,
with a threshingmachiue working on shares
Mike was on a never ending tramp, tramp,
for the machine was run by horsepower, and
when they once start tbev must go uutil
“down brakes!” was sounded.
About this time the first baby, a blue eyed
boy came. Emmy was beginning io have
new ambitions. Her love for her husband
was keen sighted enough to see that he
would not long rest satisfied with his presen'
life- His brilliant active mind was already
reaching away and beyond the plantation.
S ) little by little Emmy commenced siving
money, she cooked she sewed she milked, she
spun, she raised chickens: she sent a market
wagon full of stuff to town every week.
Getting up in the middle * f the night to cook
b'eakfas tor the negro driver. By this time
R ibbie was toddling around,and a little round
faced girl with the eyes of her dead uncle was
added to the family. This decided them at
once. A girl must have educational advan
tages. She must know music and have the
accomplishments of other girls: they must
move to town and give up farming. All the
land this year was planted in cotton. Mike
set such a good example to the other mules
that every thing went, on without a draw
back. If the crop yeilded so much, the hard
drudgery of years was over. The cotton
was growing wonderfully; for the first time
in many seasons, not one single cotton worm
bad made its appearance.
Then a new and unlooked for disaster hap
pened. Emmy sat sewing on the shady
porch, when she saw Charlie running to the
house, bis face white and drawn with pain.
“OblEmmv, Mike is ki led!”
Emmy stood quickly on her feet and said:
“On! no, I reckon not, what has happened!
Where is he!”
“Come with me,” he answered, and to
gether they ran toward the stable. The rude
structure was built of logs, and the pigs had
rooted out a cavity at one side, large enough
for a horse to get his bead under. Mike,with
a weeks rest, had become a frisky colt again,
and in tearing around the yard and rolling
over and over had rammed his head under
the stable and been there nobody koew how
long. He lay quite quiet, but E mny’s quick
ear detected a faint groan. With her re
markable common sense and great quickness
she seiz'd a boe, and commenced grubbing
about the cavity. Charlie without a word
followed her eximple and in fifteen minutes,
Mike was free.
But oh, wbat a sight! His head all lacer
ated, his eye skinned, the huge, strong j iw
almost broken: Emmy, like a woman, now
the worst was over, sat down and cried.
Charlie said in a low, deep, broken-hearted
voice:l
“Our move is all up. I depended on Mike
for the crop, and his loss is two hundred dol
lars; for of course he’ll die.”
But dear Emmy was herself again and up
and doing. She fairly fljw to the house and
got mullen water, and bathed the poor,
bruised flesh, made an immense poultice and
bound up his bead, then gently led him to the
shady grov-: near enough the porch to be
watched.
She would take corn me il and water and < o .x
him to drink, make a pulp of corn and feed
him with an iron spoon, and when the
wounds festered, with her gentle, steady
hands she lanced them herself and bound
them up again. The last thing at night and
the first thing in the morning fresh poultices
were applied, but the hardest of aU was to
make him eat. He grew thin and so down
hearted it seemed as if he must die, but final
ly good nursing brought the crisis, and he
commenced to mend. If his devotion to his
mistress,was noticeable before,it was pathetic
now; he would stand for hours with his great
black head in the kitchen window and his
upper lip would shake with joy at a word or
stroke from her. He was sufficiently recov
ered to bear the burden of the crop and there
was enough capital added to the savings of
years in E nmy’s trunk to start Charlie as
cotton broker in Atlanta.
He is a gentle, tender-hearted man, dislik
ing to broach disagreeable tonics. Finally
win n here - er > but three daj I j ft <n the old
plantation, be came abruptly to his wife’s
room and said, looking off:
“Emmy, Oglethorpe has made me an offer
for Mike.”
“Oh, Charlie,” she said, “it would be like
selling one of the children.”
So Mike came to Atlanta with the rest of
the family. It took him a good while to get
used to the operatic singing next door. “Oh
I have sighed to rest me,” was particularly
trying to his mule nerves, and he invariably
gave a loud bray on the prolonged notes.
Col. E lmunds would be obliged to raise the
window and say, “Be quiet, M kel”
He still indulges in an occasional roll, bat
it is observed that he gets in the middle of
the yard and away from all obstructions.
With his continued prosperity the Colonel,
uses only his handsome span of horses, but
occasionally yon may meet late on a sum
mer’s evening a sweet-faced lady, with re
markably bright blue eyes driving a low pony
phaeton filled with charming little children,
and instead of a pony, a fat shining black
male, a bell around his neck and a rose over
each ear—Mikel 1
CECILLE,
The Actress’ Daughter.
BY “BOHEMIAN DASH. 1 ’
“To the Hotel Dieu.”
The quick, hurried order was given to a car
riage driver tefore the Grand Oaera House
one cold December night in New Orleans. A
handsome equipage dashed forward endan
gering the crowd of anxious lookers on that
peered with natural curiosity into its glass
windows. The occupants were a lady, a gen
tleman and a lady’s maid. The mail’s clear,
grey eyes, broad, white forehead, with its
brown hair brushed carelessly back and reg
ular features indicated one well born and ac
customed to best society. He looked thirty -
fi /e.
“Lay your head here, Lola,” he said in ten-
derest tones to the lady.
Her beautiful head drooped wearily as she
put one slender band out to his saying:
“Will we soon be there? I am so tired.”
Down past the grey tower of the Jesuits’
College bowled the carriage with its living
freight and past the little brown church of
"Sante Joseph. Tae maid who was a Lor
raine moved her beads restlessly, saying in
French:
“Sijevne—si belle—une actrice si g’ori-
euse et mourante avec tant'd applaudisse-
ments qui resonent encore dans ses oreilles—
trop tnste.”
A quick ring startled tbe old, monkish-
looking porter, who hobbled down the wide
walk and unbarred the gate, A sister of
Charity came to the front porch, and taking
both hands of the frail, slender lady who ad
vanced slowly leaning heavily on the gentle
man, said:
“Welcome.”
Then with deep sympathy expressed in her
soft, fair face she repeated, “Welcome, my
| dear child.”
| Toe gentleman turned toward the lady.
Isaying:
“I will remain in the city, Lola, and en-
i quire for you every day. Sister Mary, I
j commit her to your charge.”
When she had left the room the ex-actress
turned her face towards the silver cross ou
the wall and sighed deeply. In a few min
utes Sister Mary returned leading by tbe
hand a young girl of fifteen, tall, slender,
beautiful It was if the woman on the lounge
had suddenly regaiued her youth and beauty,
and stood before them as lovely a vision as
ever haunted an artist’s dream.
“My daughter—my own neglected, dis
owned child! forgive me! forgive me!”
The imploring eyes, the shaking, pleading
voice, the outstretched, quivering arms—
there was no acting here. The actress was
forever dead; only the mother lived and
loved.
“My baby!” she murmured as she pressed
that fair young head close to her breast, and
the tears of both were mingled in that solemn
hour.
“The nuns promised to be always kind to
you, Cecille. A remittance was sent regu
larly. I am dying now, or I might make
amends. Here is ray wedding riog, Cecille.
Your father is dead. Your mother's life was
innocent when you were born. Afterwards
—ah! afterwards—I have suffered. God has
forgiven me. Sister Mary, I leave my child
to you. These papers will tell you in what
London bank my child’s little fortune is de
posited. I worked for her, thought of her,
though I sacrificed my mother yearning to
ambition and the restless passion that woul i
not let me know peace. Sister of the blessed
Virgin, be to my child what I have never
been—a mother. Pron i e me!”
T- e black-robed mm knelt a*; the side of the
3ying woman, raised her slender hand cla-p-
ing an ivory cross and murmured “I prom
ise ”
A faint scream from Cecille made her start
to her feet. Madame Larue had fainted. The
young physician who had attended her so
faithfully was hurriedly called in. but his aid
was powerless. A priest was summoned, tbe
last sacrament was administered, and soon
Cecille wept beside the lifeless body of her
newly-found mother, and Sister Mary,
soothing her, gently whispered: “Remember,
dear child, that you still have a mother on
earth, and a father in heaven.”
Nearly two years had gone by, leaving the
child of the actress still an inmate of the
convent, whose sombre walls she brightened
by her innocent cheerfulness. Cecille was the
pet of all the inmates. Her accomplishments
were of no ordinary measure, and her beauty
was of that rare type which wins al most
awe-struck admiration.
When visitors asked concerning the beau
tiful girl, they weresimplv told a “protege
of a sister of charity.” Did she intend be
ing a nun? “She was not influenced to be.
She was free as air.”
She painted well, could draw very cleverly.
Sometimes she would put a little sketch in
water col >rs in the parlor, and blush uncon
sciously if Dr. Melvin asked, “who did it.”
The little chapel was her especial haunt. To
gather natural flowers and decorate its altars,
then sit at the organ and play some weird,
yet sacred music, was her delight. Dressed
in “nun’s veiling,” with a broad, black rib
bon holding back the golden curls, sole trib
ute to a mother, whom she had scarcely
known, we see her one day. Her soul see01s
bound by a si*ell that she evokes from the
ivory keys. Her lips are half apart. Turn
ing suddenly, she sees Dr. Melvin, and her
“ chere seur Marie,” as she not unf requently
calls her; and as she advances, the sister says:
“Cecille, Dr. Melvin says your music was
the first thing which drew him into our
church.”
“Then he will be a catholic? Oh, will you,
Doctor?” Her sweet eyes go up to his calm
ones as he answers:
“That strange thing has happened.”
That night, Sister Mary and Father Moreau
held a long and earnest conversation, and
when Dr. Melvin entered the room, there
were traces of tears on the sister's usually
serene face.
A fe w months have passed, and it is the
handsome young doctor we see alighting
from his buggy in front of the Hotel Dieu;
he turns and lifts a still girlish figure out af
ter him, while Sister Mary comes out on the
portico smiling and happy. Cecille becom
ingly forgets her new dignity as tbe “doctor’s
wife” and the celebrated surgeon’s helpma-r,
as she bounds into hei "chere seurs” arms,
and old Carlo jumps and whines, eager tor a
recognition from his long separated playmate,
and the stately Mother Superior comes
out, with a number of ladies of charity, to
welcome Cecille. Father Moreau is there
and says, “She stole the young doctor;” bu
her “foster mama” quickly rejoins, “I think,
Father, that he stole Cecille.” Which com
mitted the theft no one can decide.
Cecille’s future is as fair and bright as her
mother’s was dark and unknown. Tbe
“actress’ child” is happy and unrecognizable
in “Sister Mary’s protege,” and the young
doctor’s wife.
The Grand Opera House had been closed
for a week. Every day anxious inquiries
were made concerning the beautiful actress
whose sudden appearance and disappearance
excited' the profoundest sympathy, and ru
mors wh ch always keep pace with all r. curi
osity, were not la-king.
At the convent, the fair stranger was still
domiciled. The maid had been sent away.
The gentleman had a private message sent
to him by one of the sisters. He did not re
turn, and the golden sunlight of a day in
January f mud Mile. Larue paler, thinner,
iying passive in an elegant apartment, where
she was conveyed upon her entrance to the
“Hotel Dieu ”
“ Will Cecille ever come, do you thiuk sis
ter *”
It is tbe first sentence she has spoken for
several days. The serene blue eyes of the
"lady of charity” turn to the beautiful wo
man lying there so spiritual, for w hat human
creature does not that “silent messenger”
etberialize before it takes the soul hence.
“Yes, dear; she is here. Can you control
yourself to meet her?”
“I will try. Have you—have you—told
her that 1 am her mother? Ah! my God'
never have I seen her sweet face, never writ
ten her o ie line since I pur her in the ‘Xotre
Dame de B011 Caeur' 111 Paris, so long ago.
How she must de-pise such a mother!'
The sister’s eyes widened in wonder. Then,
as she saw the anguish and remorse starnpe 1
on tbe colorless face that lay ou the pillow,
she laid a soothing band on the troubled
forehead, and said gently:
“This child—your child—is here. She is
very lovely. I will bring her to you.”
she thought; “Mother Savage said yesterday
she wondered how such a homely child came
to have such handsome teeth.
She seemed to herself to be dreaming.
“Forty dollars,”‘ Forty dollars,” kept say
ing itself over in her brain, and when the
shopman turned to wait on her she was gone.
A few minutes after, she stood in the dentist’s
office.
“Please, will you see if my teeth are good
enough to buy ? ’ she aiked timidly.
Tae doctor was engaged in a delicate oper
ation, but he stopped to give the teeth a hur
ried examination.
“How beautiful! They are just what I
want. Come to-morrow,” he said, going
back to his work.
“Tae rest of the day E'sie’sfather thought
her wonderfully gay, but he could not think
why, for she said nothing of her plan, about
which she Degan to lose courage when tbe
first excitement of it subsided. Hard times
look easier in the morning than they do at
night: and as she sat in 'he twilight, study
ing herself in a bit of looking-glass, she
thought sorrowfully: “I shall be homelier
than ever when they are gone; bu: then how
silly of me to care about that. Papa will
love me just the same. But it will hurt so to
have them out,” she went on thinking, and
every nerve in her body quivered at the pros
pect. “If it wasn’t for the rent, and the
medicine for papa, and ever so many other
th ngs—I never could beg, never. Yes,Elsie,
Benson, it’s got to be done,*if it kills you!”
The next morning she entered the dentist’s
office by mere force of will. Her courage
was all gone. Dr. Dow was alone, and said
“Good morning," very kindly; but when he
saw |ow she trembled, he put heir on the
lounge and made her drink something that
quieted her. Then he sat down by her and
said, “ISow tell me what your name is, and
why you want to sell your teeth.”
He spoke so gently that at first Elsie could
only answer with tsars; but at last he con
trived to get all her sad story, and his eyes
were wet and his voice husky several .times
while she was telling it.
“You are a dear, brave child,” he said
when she had finished. “Now 1 am goiBg
with you to see your father.”
“But you’ll take the teeth first, won’t yon?”
she asked imploringly. “I shall never have
conrage to come again.”
“Nevermind that. We’ll see if there isn’t
some better way out of this trouble,” he an-
So, hand in hand, they went back to the
sick man; but I cannot tell you how happy
and proud he was when the doctor told him
about Elsie, or how gratefully he fell in with
the plan of going to a nice hospital, where he
soon got well enough to work in the doctor’s
handsome grounds; while Elsie, in her place
as nurse to the doctor’s baby, rolled it over
the gravel walks.
So, though Elsie kept her teeth, they saved
both her and her father from poverty and
distress.
axlroad ©uide.
Richmond and DanYille K. R.
PASSENGER DEPARTMENT.
O X aud after June 5,1881, Passenger Train
Service on the A:lanta and Charlotte Air
Line division of this road will be as follows:
U S. Mail N.Y.Exp U.S. Fast
EASTWARD. No. 43 No. 47 Mail- No.
A B 49—C
L've Atlanta
Arr Snwanee...
“ Lula
“ Toccoa
“ Seneca
“ Greenv’le
“ Spartan'g.,
“ Gastonia.
“ Charlotte..
WESTWARD.
..... 4.00 a m
.D 5 18 a m
,.E 6 54 a m
,.F 8.14 a m
.G 9 20 a m
H 10 58 a m
,K 12.14 p m
. L 2.36 p m
M 3.35 p m
U.S. Mail
No. 42
3.15 p m
4.37 p m
5.59 p m
7.15 p m
8 40p in
10.20 p m
11.40 p m
2 13 a m
3.15 a m
N. Y.Exp
No. 48
6.30 p m
7.45 p m
9.06 p m
10.16 p m
11.25 p m
1.00 a i
2 11 a m
4. 31 a m
5.35 a m
U. S. Fast
Mail.
No 50
Railroad ©wide.
L’ve Charlot.te..M 12.36 p m 12.43 a m 12 23 a m
“ Gastonia..L 1.27pm 1.43am 117am
“ Spartan'g..K 3.50 p in 4.06 am 3.12 am
“ Green v’le.H 5.07 pm 5.18am 4.24am
“ Seneca G 6 51pm 7.02 am 547am
“ Toccoa F 8.01 p m 8.15 a m 6 53 a m
“ Luia E 9.16 pm 9.31 a m 8 09am
“ Suwannee.D 10 38 p m 10.54 a m 9.22 am
Arr. Atlanta 12.05 a m 12.20 p m 10.35 a m
CONNECTIONS.
A with arriving trains of Georgia Central
and A. & W. P. Railroads.
B with arriving trains of Georgia Central,
A. & W P. and W & A. Railroads.
C with arriving trains of Georgia Railroad.
D with Lawrenceville Branch to aud from
Lawrenceville. Ga.
E with Northeastern Bailroad of Georgia to
and from Athens, Ga.
K with Elberton AtriLlne to and from El-
berton, Ga.
G wi.ta Columbia and Greenville to and
from Columbia and Charleston, S. C.
H with Columbia and Greenville to and
from Columbia and Charleston, 8. C.
K with Spartanburg and Asheville, and
Spartanburg, Union and Columbia, to and
from Henderson and Asheville, and Alston
and Columbia.
L with Chester and Lenoir Narrow Gauge
to and from Dallas and Chester.
M with C. C. & A.—C. C —R. & D., and A. T.
& O. for all points West, North and East.
4VPullman Sleeping Car Service on Trains
Nos. 47 and 48 daily, without change, between
Atlanta and New York. A. POPE,
majE9tf General Passenger Agent.
MBS. LYDIA E. PINKHAM.
OF LYNN, MASS.
DISCOVERER OF
Elsie’s Sacrifice.
"Elsie?”
“Ye-, papa;” and the child dashed away
her tears and sprang to the bed where her
father lay baudaged and helpless.
That day an explosion had happened in the
mill where he worked, and he was badly
hurt.
“Water!” he said feebly.
She gave it to him, and he went on speak
ing.
“Where’s the money, Elsie?”
“Here, papa,” putting her hand on the
b030in of her dress.
“That’s right. Take good care of it. God
only knows when we shall have any more.
Poor child!” he added fondly.
“Not a bit of it,” she answered gaily.
“You’ll be at home all the time now, and
we’ll have such a good time together.”
Her father gave her a loving smile, and
closed his eyes wearily. Elsie began to stroke
bis band, aud he soon fell into an uneasy
slumber.
Tne two were all in all to each other. They
came from England and had been in America
but a few months. Elsie was a plain, delicate
cnild of thirteen, but her father called her his
dove of comfort, and now she was proving
her right to the name. She tended him day
and night, with a cheery, skillful patience
that made everybody love her.
But tbe weeks went by, the money was
spent, and still he lay on his bed. The wolf
was at the door. How could they keep him
out?
Then it was that bfr father said, “Elsie,
where are the silver spoons?”
‘In mamma’s little trunk, with the ring
and the locket.” she answered.
“You must get them out and carry them
to Mr. Black.”
“Oh, papa, no! It’s all the si'ver we have, j
and mama tbought.everything of them,” she 1
cried impulsively.
The sick man made no answer, but he put !
h s hands over his eyes, and soon E sie saw j
the tears steal slowly through his fingers.
‘ Papa, dear papa! I didn’t mean it. How
cruel of me!” she exclaimed, throwing her
arms about him. “I’ll take them this minute, j
and when you get weil and earn money,
we’ll have them back again.”
“When I get weli! 1 wonder when that
will be? ’ he said despairingly.
“Before long—slow and sure, you know,”
she answered brightly, and in a few minutes
she set out on her first visit to the pawn
broker. But it was not her last. Tone and
again she went, till every possible thing had
been carried: aud meantime she was learn
ing cheerfully to bear hunger and cold for
“papa’s sike.”
He, too, poor man. must see his dariing
grow hollow-cheeked and big-eyed, with u<> j
power to save her. What couid tuey both
do but lie down together and die!
As Elsie went ho ne from her last visit to
the pawnbroker she stopped at a grocery to
ouy a little coal, and, while she waited for
other customers, she looked 1 -tlessly at the ,
morning paper lying on the counter. As she :
oil so, these words caught her eye:
“Wasted— Four perfect front teeth, for
which I wax give forty dollars.
“Chas. Dow, D ntist.
“No. 5 K. Street.”
The poor little fi.ee flushed scarlet with a
sudden hope. “Perhaps he would take mine,”
UTDIA E. PINKHAM’S
VEGETM&rc COMPOUND-
The Positive Cure
■mhhbhbhhh
Por all Female Complaints.
This preparation, as its name signifies, consists of
Vegetable Properties that are harmless to the most del
icate invalid. Upon one trial the merits of this Com*
pound will be recognized, as relief is immediate; and
when its use is continued, in ninety-nine cases in a hun.
dred, a permanent cure is effected,as thousands will tea*
tify. On account of its proven merits, it is to-day re
commended and prescribed by the best physicians In
the country.
It will cure entirely the worst form of falling
of the uterus, Leucorrhcea, irregular and painful
Menstruation, all Ovarian Troubles, Inflammation and
Ulceration, Floodings, all Displacements and the con
sequent epinal weakness, and is especially adapted to
tbe Change of Life. It will dissolve and expel tumors
from the uterus in an early stage of development. The
tendency to cancerous humors there is checked very
speedily by its use.
In fact it has proved to be the great
est and best remedy that h«*s ever been discover
ed. It permeates every portion of the system, and gives
new Uie and vigor. It removes faintness,flatulency, de
stroy i all craving for stimulants, and relieves weakness
of the stomach
It cures Bloating, Headaches, Nervous Prostration,
General Debility, Sleeplessness, Depression and Indi
gestion. That feeling of bearing down, causing pain,
weight and backache, is always permanently cured by
its use. It will at all times, and under all circumstan
ces, act in harmony with the law that governs the
female system.
For Kidney Complaints of either sex this compound
is unsurpassed.
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound
Is prepared at 233 and 235 Western Avenue, Lynn, Mass.
Price $1.00. Six bottles for $5.00. Sent by mail in the
form of pills, also in the form of Lozenges, on receipt
of price, $1.00, per box, for either. Mrs. PINKHAM
freely answers all letters of inquiry. Send for pam
phlet. Address as above Mention this paper.
No family should be without LYDIA E. PINKHAM*
LITER PILLS. They cure Constipation, Biliousness
and Torpidity of the Liver. 25 cents per box.
For sale by
LAMAR, RANKIN & LAMAR,
Atlunta. Georgia.
Ur. 3. M. ARMSTRONG’S
HEALTH INSTITUTE,
JONESBORO, OA.
Woijulerfnl Cures Mane Without Pills
on pytients coming here from all other places,
and :,s the last resort from drugs and drug
doctors. For circular containing particulars
enclose postage stamp.3i3 ly
Southern Copying Company,
ATLANTA. GEORGIA.
OLD PICTURES COPIED & ENLARGED.
Agent• wanted in every town and eounty »» tJit
South’
D O you desire an agency ? Send for terras to
agent. If you can no: take an agency, but
have pictures of your own you wish copied, and
there are no agents of ours in your vicinity, write
for retail prices, and send picture direct to us
(either by mail or express), and they will receive
our best attention. Address SOUTHERN COPY
ING COMPANY, No. 9, Marietta Street, Atlanta.
Georgia 232—
Great Kennesaw Route,
VIA
Western and Atlantic Railroad
T RIPLE Daily Passenger Trains are run by the
Old Reliable Kennesaw Route.
THE FAST MAIL TRAIN NORTH.
Leaves Atlanta at.. ™™. 2:50 p m
Arrives at Lynchburg 1:55 p m
Arrives at Washington-. 9:40 p m
Arrives at Baltimore.. 11:20 p m
Arrives at Philadelphia ™ 3:40 a m
Arrives at New York 6:45 am
THE FAST MAIL TRAIN SOUTH.
Leaves New York at .....10:00 p m
Leaves Washington at.....™.™.™.......™. 7:00 a m
Arrives at Atlanta 12:40 noon
Pullman cars run daily between New Orleans,
THE FAST MAIL TRAIN
Also makes close connetion at Chattanooga from
and to all points West.
THE EXPRESS TRAIN NORTH
Leaves Atlanta at ....5:10 a m
which makes close connection for Rome and all
points in Virginia and Tennessee, also at Chat
tanooga for all points West,
THE EXPRESS TRAIN SOUTH
Arrives at Atlanta 8:15pm
making close connection from all points West.
Also from Virginia and Tennessee points.
Information as to rates, etc,, furnished upon
application, B. W. WRENN,
240-tf General Passenger Agent.
GEORGIA R. R.
GEORGIA RAILROAD COMPANY.')
Superintendent's Office, >
Augusta, Ga., June 1,1881. )
COMMENCING SUNDAY, 7th Instant, the
following Passenger Schedule will be operated:
No. 2, EAST DAILY.
Leave Atlanta™.™....™™......™...™™.....™.71® am
Arrive Athens 8 30 p m
Arrive Washington - . 110 p m
Arrive Camak ™..„ 113 p m
Arrive Milledgeville 4 45 p m
Arrive Macon 6 B0 p m
Arrive Augusta ................8 47 p m
No connection to or from Washington on Sun
days.
No. 1, WEST DAILY.
Leave Augusta „.... 935am
Leave Macon 7 00 a m
Leave Milledgeville 8 58am
Leave Camak 33 a m
Leave Washington 10 45 am
Leave Athene 915am
Arrive Atlanta 5 45 p m
LITHONIA ACCOMMODATION.
Daily—Except Sunday.
Leave Atlanta 6 00 pm
Arrive stLithonia.. 7 14 pm
Leave nithonia 6 45am
Arrive at Atlanta. 8 00 am
DECATUR ACCOMMODATION.
Daily—Except Sundayi.
Leave Atlanta.. 12 noon i Leave Decatur.. 1:30 p m
Arrive Decatnr.l2:25 pm I Arrive Atla jta.. 1 55 p m
No. 4, East Daily.
Leave Atlanta. 8 45 pm
Arrive at Athens 7 30 a m
Arrive at Augusta, 7 00 am
No. 3, West Daily.
Leave Augusta 5 30 pm
Leave Athens 6 00 p m
Arrive at Atlanta. 500am
Trains Nos. 2,1. 4 end 3 will not stop at flag
stations.
Only one Change from Atlanta to New York.
JNO. W. GREEN, G. M.
E. R. DORSEY, Gen. Pass. Ag't.
Condensed Through Time Table
Cincinnati Southern Railway.
TRAINS SOUTH.
DAT EXPRESS
On and after Sunday June 10,1881, Trains will
run as follows:
Leave Cincinnati(l)
Lexington (2)
High Bridge(3)
Harrodsburg J n notion (i)
Tiinpfmn
8 30 a m
11 32 a m
....1218 p m
.....12 33 p m
.... 1 02 p m
,™. 5 28 p m
10 00 pm
Junction City(5)
Sedgemoor (for Rugby
Arrive at Chattanooga (6)
ACCOMMODATION.
Leave Oincinnati(l) 4 00 p m
Lexington (2) 7 15 p m
High Bridge (3) ™ 8 08pm
Harrodsburg Junction(4) ™ 8 27pm
Junction City(5) ™ ™. 8 55 p m
Arrive Chattanoog>»(6) 12 20 p m
South Carolina Railroad.
SCHFDIJLE:
C OMMENCING Sunday, January 9.1881, trains
will run as follows, by Charleston time,
which is about 10 minutes foster than Augusts
city time:
GOING EAST.
Leave Atlanta 8:45 p. m. 7:15 a. m«
Arrive Augusta 7:55 a. m. 7:00 p. m.
“ Charleston ......... 8:10 p. m. 5:20 a. nr
“ Columbia ....... 5:30 p. m. 5:30 a. m.
“ Camden 12:49 p. m. 3:45 p. m
GOING WEST.
Leave Charleston ™ 6:00 a m, 8:10 p m.
“ Columbia 6:00 am. 9-00pm
“ Camden 5:00 a. m
Arrive Augusta 3:20 p m 7:55 p m.
“ Atlanta ......... 5:00 a m. 6:35.p m.
All trains between Augusta and Charleston
run daily. Day trains on Columbia Division and
Camden branch do not run on Sundays Night
trains run daily—sleeping cars on all night trains
Excursion Tickets—good for 10 day between
Atlanta and Charleston—can be purchased at
118.55 via this route.
Ou Wednesdays and Saturdays connection is
made at Charleston with steamships for New
York.
Tickets on sale at Unton Depot Ticket office.
JOHN B. PECK,
Gen’l Superintendent, Charleston. 8. C.
D. C. ALLEN, Gen’l Passenger and Ticket Ag’t,
Charleston. S. O. 246-tf
Chickasaw' Route Memphis and
Charleston R. It,
ft DAILY PASSENGER TRAINS, ft
Millinery!
II RESS. flAKIXG.
M KS. a. H. >4CFi wishes to inform the La
dies that she h»s a handsome stock of Milli-
uervH’ii Fancy Goods and will sell « HEAP FOR
CASH ’ ** ^
WASTED.
B Y a young lady who is thoroughly competent.
a >o-itiou in a private umiiy. to teach the
Eugli-h hr inches, the rudim-tus of French. Mu
se, a id .Elocution. Host re I-'re lies given as to
alii itv. etc. Conn'ry no ol>j-ciion. Address
“GEOttUl P U. b'.xgoi, Atlanta, Ga. 010 2
0/1II TrilTf U On »nd after June 1. 1881,
aUllE/lW U Li Ej as follows:
GOING WEST.
Leave Chattanooga 10:15pm
Arrive at Memphis 12:05p m
THE
Memphis & Charleston Railroad
Ts the road that first inaugurated the sale of Emi
grant Tickets to Arkansas. Texas and the North
west, hence it fs pre-eminently
The Emigrant’* Friend.
THE SHORTEST
ALL RAIL ROUTE TO ALL POINTS IB
Arkansas and Texas.
Special rates and attention given by this line to
the shipment of Live Stock and Household ef-
! iects in Through Cars.
Parties desiring to prospeet in Texas can obtain
Round Trip Tickets via this line at very low rates.
Baggage < 'becked Through.
For information as to Rates, Routes. Schedules,
etc., apply to THOM. NCSAS,
Geu’l Southeastern Agent, Atlanta, Ga ,
JAS. R. OGDEN,
Gen’l Passenger Agent, Knoxville, Tenn.
T. S. DAVANT,
Asst. Gen. Passenger Agent, Memphis, Tenn.
NIGHT EXPRESS.
Leave Cincinnati(l) 7 25 p m
Lcxington(2) 10 07 p m
Junction City(5) .11 23 p m
Arrive Chattanooga(6) 7 30 a m
TRAINS NORTH.
DAT EXPRESS.
Leave Chattanooga (6) 5 00 a m
Sedgemoor (for Rugby) 9 38 a m
Junction City(5) 1 50 pm
Harrodsburg Junction(4) 2 17 p m
High Bridge(3) 2 82 p m
Lexmgton(2) 3 21 p m
Arrive Cincinnati(l) 6 20 p m
ACCOMMODATION.
Leave Ohatt'inooga(S). 2 20 p m
Junction City(5) 5 30 a m
Harrodsburg Junction(4) _.... 5 54 a m
High Bridge(3) 6 09 a m
Lexington(2) 7 08 a m
Arrive Cincinnati(l) „^jo 25 a m
NIGHT EXPRESS.
Leave Chattanooga (6) 730 a m
Junction City(5) 3 12 a m
Lexington(2) 4 26 a m
Arrive Cincinnati(l) 7 00 a m
(1) Connects with ail railroads centering at Cin
cinnati, for the North, East and West (2) Con
nects with L. C. A L. and K. C. roads. (3) Ken
tucky River Bridge. (4) Connects with S- W. R.R.
for Harrodsburg. (5) Connects with L. A G. 8. R.R.
(6) Connects with all diverging lines for all polnta
in tbe South, Southeast ana Southwest
Night Express runs dally; other trains daily ex
cept Sundays.
E. P. WILSON, 8. WOODWARD,
Gen'I Pass Av’t Superintendent
REAU CHMPBELL, Qen’l Northern Ag’t
Magnolia Passenger Route.
PORT ROYAL AUGUSTA RAILWAY,!
Angusta, Ga., My 14,1881. [
O N and after May 15, 1881, the following
schedule will be operated:
GOING SOUTH, GOING NORTH.
No. '. No. 2.
D’y M’l. D’y M’l.
1.50 p m Lv Angusta............ Ar 10.30 p m
2 20pm Lv Beech Island..Ar 9.59 pm
2.45 p m Ar Jacksou’s.........Lv 9 34 p m
3 04pm Ar EIIenton......_..Lv 9.15pm
3.19 p m Ar Robbins ..Uv 9.00 p m
3.43 p m Ar Millett’s Lv 8.36 p m
3 55 p m Ar Martin’s Lv 8.24 p m
4.04 p m Ar Beldoc....™ Lv 8.15 p m
4 17 p m Ar Appleton Lv 8.02 p m
4.28 p m Ar Allendale... „_„Lv 7.57 p m
4.51 p m Ar Campbellton......Lv 7.38 p m
4.52 p m Ar Bronson Lv 7.27 p m
5 05 p m Ar. Hampton Lv 7.14 p m
5.14 p m Ar Varnesville Lv 7.05 p m
5.44 p m Ar Early Branch,...Lv 6.35 p m
6.00 p m Ar Yemasee Lv 6 20 p m
9.30 p m Ar .Savannah Lv 3.30 p in
9.30 p m Ar Charleston Lv 3.30 p m
7.35 a m Ar Jackson vllle Lv 5 30pm
6.25 p m— Lv Yemasee Ar 6.00 p m
7.49 p m Ar Beaufort.... Lv 4.36 p m
8.05 p m .Ar Port Royal ...Lv 4.20 p m
Baggage checked through to Savannah,
Charleston, Jacksonville, and all Florida
points.
63“Through Tickets for sale at Union De*
pot Ticket Office, Augusta, Ga..and at all
principal Ticket Offices. B. G. FLEMING,
J. S. DAVANT, General Snp't.
Gen. Pass. Agt. 303tf
Western Railroad of Alabama.
Time Table, taking effect March 1,1880.—Atlanta
Time.
GOING EAST AND NORTH
Mali and Passenger, No- 45.
Leaving Montgomery .10:15 p m
Arrive at West Point 12:55 p m
“ Atlanta 3:00 am
Connecting at Atlanta with the Piedmont Air-
Line and Kennesaw Route for all points East.
Ne. 47.
Leave Montgomery 6:10 am
Arrive at West Point 10:15 am
“ Columbus 11:10 am
“ Atlanta 2:07 p m
“ Macon 5:15 p m
Connecting at Montgomery with Mobile and
Montgomery railroad, and at Chehaw with Tu*-
kegee railroad, and at Columbus with South
western railroad, and at Atlanta with Kennesaw
Route and Piedmont Air-Line.
accommodation. No. S.
Leaves Selma 2:10 pm
Arrives at Montgomery 4:33 p m
Leaves Montgomery 5:40 pm
"Connecting at Atlanta with through trains via
Kennesaw Route, Piedmont Air-Line and Geor
gia railroad.
Local Sleepers on No. 3—Selma to Atlanta.
ACCOMMODATION. No. 5& 7
Leaves Selma 6:50 am
Arrives at Montgomery.....™ 9:40 am
Leave Montgomery 10:10 am
Arrive at Columbus 7;10pm
No. 49.
Leave Atlanta ..........12:50 a m
“ West Point 4:00 a m
Arrive »t Montgomery 8:10 a m
Leave Montgomery 8:55 p m
Arrive at Selma 11:00 p m
Connecting at Montgomery with the Mobile &
Montgomery and Louisville N A S G 3 Railroad
and for Selma.
GOING SOUTH AND WEST—KAIL AND EX
PRESS.
No. 48.
Leaves Macon............™™ 9:00 a m
'• Atlanta 1:15 p m
“ Columbus 3:10 pm
“ West Point 4:50 p m
“ Opelika 4:45 p m
“ Chehaw 5:42 p m
Arrive at Montgomery 7;00pm
Connecting at Montgomery with Mobile and
Montgomery railroad for Mobile and New Orleans
and with Louisville, Nashville and G. S. Railroad
for all points West,
ACCOMMODATION. No. 4.
Leaves West Point 3:20 am
Arrive at Montgomery 8:07 a m
Leaves Montgomery 8:55 a m
Arrive at Selma ,„11:20 a m
Making connection at Selma with the Alabama
Central railroad for Meridian, Vicksburg and
points in Texas.
ACCOMMODATION. No. 6.
Leaves Columbus 7:00 a m
“ Opelika ™.10.15 a m
“ Chehaw ™.12:22 pm
Arrive at Montgomery 3:20 pm
ACCOMMODATION, No. 8.
Leave Montgomery 4:20 p m
Arrive at Selma 7:22 p m
SUNDAY ACCOMMODATION.
No. IO.
Leave Montgomery 5:30 p m
Arrive at Se rna 7:20 p m
Trains 42, 45, 47. 48 3 and 4 run daily,
Trains 5 6, 7 and 8 run daily except Sundays.
Trains 9 and 10 run no Sundays.
CECIL GABBETT,
244-tf General Manager.
$500 Reward.
WE will pay the above reward for any case of
Liver Complaint, Dyspepsia, Sick Headache, Ic-
digestiou. Constipation or Costiveness we cannot
cure with West's Vegetable Liver Pills, when the
directions are strictly complied with. They are
purely Vegetable, aiid never fail to give satisfac
tion 'Sugar-coated. Large boxes containing 30
pills. 25 cents For sale by a I druggists. Beware
ol counterfeits and imitations. The genuine man
ufactured only bv JOHN C. WEST A CO., “The
Pill .Makers,” 181’A 183 W. .Madison st, Chicago.
Free trial packagesentbymail prepaid on receipt
of a 3 cent stamp. 397 1 '
.({fills aud (anwassfrs
Make from *25 to *50 per week selling
goods tor E G. RIDEOUT A CO., 10 Barclay
Street. New York. Send for their Catalogue
aud terms. 266-1