About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 8, 1887)
2 THE 8UNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GA„ SATURDAY MORNING, JANUARY 8, 1887, THE CROSS AND RING. BY MRS. E. WARREN ERDELMYER. CHARTER I. It was M inlo Gras in New Orleans; the gcenc of extraordinary aiiiniatiin and bustle. The streets were tilled with a vast multitude of spectators thronging the side-walks in door ways, peering from windows and swarming like blackbirds on the balconies and galleries— flags fluttered in the breeze and all things be tokened a high holiday. “ Did you succeed in getting the money from the Jews, Adalbert?” said a person of ques tion ilile respectability, shaking to one of far better appearance than himself, but one with that unmistakable look of dissipation. ■‘y,, ’- answered Adalbert llosseberne gruf- fly “What now “A bullet to end it all.” “Suicide! Are you so weak ? l.it'e, to the disappointed, is hu’ madness ; wliat matters when it ends, or how' “You are young. The world is a good place. Ton must not talk so wildly. “What would you have me do . 1 am ruined ! There is nothing left me but to die like a coward." , ... . , “Die! That’s the very last thing to do. Help yourself to the goods the gods provide, no ma-ter how. Come! let us, too, be merry with a'l the world. Go to Rex s ball to-night There will be a gorgeous display of rich jew e'».” “What’s that to ine ? . , . “A solitaire diamond of priceless value might fall into your hands—who knows with a wicked leer in his eyes. “Sdeath ! You mean to inxnlt me . “Pas si bete ; you are always in the moon ouar cling w'th tiie stars. Here is a ticket to the ball, take it and go to night. I got it by chance You are a handsome dog, with the air and carriage of a prince. 1 mi will be welcomed cordially. The name on the card 1 have erased and inserted yours ; though that is nothing; of course in this society mass meeting no one would know whether you are you or somebody else.” Do you listen r Go, and make the most of the opportunity. Adalbert scowled ferociously. “If I thought you meant what your words imply” he said, “I would crush them down your throat. I am ruined, my life spoiled through my own folly ; 1 owe you money , I have sunk myself into vile diflicu ties; but neither you, nor any other man shall ultimate a theft to me.” , . , . “l*liaw ! You put things so vulgarly plain, princely as you look and seem to be Has ! There is refinement even in rogueries, to some natures There are more ways than one to IS rich articles. Why should I mean the low-bred theft of the jewels themselves ? I est! Steal the heart of the wearer, that s a legiti m ite theft < me can’t borrow without security < me ran pawn his salary, and one can, also pawn matrimonial prospects to the extent of much better figures. You are better looking than the king of the carnival. I lie maid of honor are beautiful and rich. Go to the ball . it will do you good. It might open a new era in your life. ... . , Well adieu’ When you will have caged y OU r rich bird remember me. Diamonds l»ri ,T ht—cluster or solitaire—we re m a mash and must get out of it. Ta! ta! Au revoir!” “Good-day” was answered, and Bert felt in stinctively the mans base insinuations in spite of his denial; but though he looked after him with angry defiance, hatred for the whole world entered Bert’s heart, a distrust ot all good a disbelief in integrity itself. His breast swelled with rebellion against his better na ture a defiant surrender to fate that seemed bent on dragging him down to evil whatever lie might do. . « , In all America one could scarcely find a man more handsome than Adalbert Rosseberne ; yet as be stands there, alone in a crowd, flushed with the effects of drinking and in a tumult of bitter feelings liis eyes are glittering in satanic tire, from which one would shrink iu dread—a man well shaped, tall, with strength and grace in every movement, ? fiery life in the deep-set eyes and lips to close in stern firmness, fee good or bad as the tide drives on. A “What matter^”’ he muttered ^hal use X o st niggle again* <nhe curni. f Vf lea ii. f . to The r d intensified* •• i *ne surging hrfln«» ,l ! BaIM W Aoqi*t was hi on, heedless, aimsc A«. Jere was a blaze of light; deliciLUP music Fd the air, rockets sped heavenward, roman Jfodles and Bengal lights mingled their beau tiful coloring with the glare of torches, driving away night itself in the lambent illuminations. Car after car in resplendent magnificence passed slowly. As the last one was going by Adalbert went into a saloon and drank freely, —he was wretched, desperate! Emerging again into the street lie floated on with the tide of laughing, pushing creatures, on to the imperial place, which stood out in the deep blue of the February night like a palace of light, a blaze of glory. He took from his pocket the ticket of admis sion, feeling for the first time a satisfaction in the possession of this privilege to enter ani mix in the gay festive scene. The doors of the throne-room were thrown open, and the crowd of guests found them selves transported, without a word of warn ing, into the delicious, dewy, shadowy, mossy depths of “Sheerwood Forrest”—the scene pic’ure, with its trees, sweet green grass, star eyed fl »wers and tangled grapevines; and there In the distance the hermit’s hut, and further on the famed hew tree, with its branches drooping over the fore st pathway, dripping its crimson beads do vn upon the flowers. It lay in all its dreuny benny with the wonderfully piriect effect of sunlight, warm and golden. The king and queen were seated on the throne-chairs, and on either side were groups of the lovely maids of honor. The guests passed in front of the throne, making obeisance to the royal pair; and Adal bert, in a dreamy, dazed way, was carried on in the tide, doing homage also to the royal party; then passing on in the strong current to the dancing-rooms, a picure of rare beauty held hi n spell-bound in speechless admiration. It was the loveliest of all—a fair woman! ’Phis lovely creature wore a magnificent diamond cross. Her satin corsage was low-necked; point d’Alencore lace veiled delicately the rosy shoulders and was caught at the throat with the splendid cluster of brilliants of price less value, shaped into a maltere cross, the S in to which, was unfastened, and the costly roach was about to fall. Adalbert glared at the valuable bijou and caught his breath with a gasp. The words, with their vile meaning, which he had listened to on the street in the early evening, and which he had resented so defiantly, now seemed to be burning in liis inflamed brain in letters of fire. “Why not?” The pin would fall, would be crushed and lost to her. Why should he tell her of its danger? It was nothing more than a plaything, a toy to her. What was it to him whether she lost it or not? “Why not? Who would ever know?” She would simply think she had lost it in the crowd. He was partially drunk with the strong li juors he had drank and wholly ine briated with the evil spirits working in him a mad hatred for the world and its laws, and a bitterness, because of the cruel fate relent lessly pursuing him. The crowd pushed him close to the person of the beautiful woman so richly adorned. Her face was turned from him, while he stood jammed so near to her that his breast touched her shoulders. They were literally wedged into a most uncomfortably small space, with the solid wall of human beings surrounding them. He was restlessly playing with a seal ring on his little finger, drawing it off and on, while an evil magnetism beckoned his hand towards that falliug broach at her throat. It would be so easy, the beautiful tempting thing was ready to drop into any fingers held out to catfii it. His arm crept softly around her shoulders—the ring, which he had ner vously let go when mid-way his finger, dan gled loosely below the knuckle of his little fin ger; it dropped off noiselessly, falling into the bosom of the fair owner of the breast-pin; and witihin his closed hand, as he withdrew it, was the diamond cross. lie hid it in his breast, and turning quickly, pushed his way through the throng as hurriedly as it was pos sible in such a jam, and gaining the entrance he disappeared in the sea of human faces out side. The young girl, absorbed with the royal scene, did not feel the touch of his hand, never missed the cross, never felt the ring as it sunk into the fluffy lace at her bosom; and the laughter, music and dancing went on undis turbed into the merry night. CHAPTER II. The dark deed was done. The manhood of an unborn noble nature was wrecked in the storm of evil passions. Adalbert, in a state bordering on madness, bailed a l’rytania street car and was soon borne away from the gay part of the city, from the sounds.of revelry and clash of many music bands resounding from every public building and theatre. He shrank into a corner of the deserted car and liis face bore the expression of a hunted animal. At Jackson street lie left the car and plunged, at a rapid pace on foot, through the streets which have no cars, and are in the centre of that famous section of the city known as the “Garden District,” with its characteristic and beautiful southern homes. He stopped in front of a large handsome house—a private residence—but over the door was a placard on which was inscribed “rooms to let.” He groped his waythrougli a dark alley-way and up the hack stairway to liis friend Charley’s room. Charley Desbern was not there. He is a pleasure-loving fellow, weak, worthless, but handsome and a society man of very limited means and expensive habits—liis only ambi tion being to dress well, to flirt fascinatingly, with the one aim—a climax in a marriage with one of the rich belles of the city. Adalbert did not light the gas. lie was in no mood for light; darkness suited liis present state better. He was stifling with conflicting emotions and raising the window leaned far out tor fresh air. He gazed at the residence adjoin ing—a largi old building, of dismal line, set in a lovely lawn, bordered in tropic plants, and with wide cool piazzas draped with wisteria, yellow jasmine and cloth-of-gold rose vines. < )ver it rested, as in gentle benediction,a sweet, soft light reflected from the illumined gas within doors and electric street lamps ming ling—yet, there were ghostly shadows creep ing over the lighted grass that seemed to he moving about on the lawn in quaint character, which gave the place a weird look. A room on the second floor of this old store house was brilliantly lighted. The shutters to the long french windows were wide open. A woman richly dressed in ball costume entered and paused in front of a large mirror, on eith er side of which were clusters of gas jets, burning. Adalbert started. He reached a lorgnette that lay on a table near him and raising it leveled it upon the in terior of this apartment. “By tlio_a_erna!! it is she!” he muttered. It was the fair creature lie had robbed—the owner of the broach that then lay against his heart burning it with the torturing condemna tion of tiie vile deed he had committed. While looking at her own fair face and form pictured vividly in the mirror she too started and put up her hand hastily to her throat. A look of dismay and distress came into her face. For a long time she stood quietly as if debating witli herself and trying to remember something Then evidently thinking it too late in the night to search for the missing cross she began slowly to take off her bracelets and oth er ornaments. Unlacing her satin bodice she threw it from her impatiently. Something fell from her lace corsage. She picked it up and held the article close to tiie gas, examining it curiously. An exclamation of quickening alarm broke from Adalbert. He felt for his ring. It was gone. He looked again through the glasses. The young girl was still turning about that ob ject of curious interest beneath the broad light, with a puzzled look in her face. It was Adalbert’s ring. He knew it now— knew now how itcaine to he in her bosom. At all cost he must recover that ring—it would be too powerful as evidence against him, as a clue to the night’s robbery. Rob- ery 1" He shuddered! Had lie fallen so low? For the first time the enormity of his baseness was brought, in a swift current of self disgust, to his better understanding. For some time he continued to watch her while laying off her ball toilette, then with the instinctive feeling of a gentleman momentarily o.-HWl-.-which had^hgen . clead!iy;'Jcanii him tlifeJKDtle He dropped his head' upon his JM5- ed aKJjLwith a groan of sharpest pathos—with a bit W® urse on himself. For rear an hour he remained motionless in that altitude—not weeping as a woman might have uone, but suffering as only a man of noble inheritances can suffer in the first conscious ness of dishonor. Tempted, he had yielded step by step to the shameless prostitution of a dissipated career. And now, he had, in a fit of desperation brought on through excesses, fallen so low that it was a shock to himself. Still Charley Desterne did not make his ap pearance. Perhaps lie had not been her escort proper, though he had seen her leaning on Clurley’s arm. Adalbert shook himself as if to throw off a nightmare. He lighted a tiny wax taper to scare II for the brandy bottle which he knew Charley always kep-.. After partaking of the potent stimulant he extinguished the taper and again approached the open window. In a little while his being was fired with revived bitterness and rebellion against integrity. Drunk with the fresli effects of the branay and mad passions arousod anew, he leveled the glasses once more on the room opposite him. . It was still lighted; the shutters still open, but there win no moving object within. Had she retired leaving that broad light in her room? How to re-posscss his ring was now the dar ing question. He could not see distinctly the object on the bed. A screen half raised was at tiie foot of the bed. Was it she? or was it simply garments thrown on the bed? He waited still longer. - There was a dead quiet all through that house and in the whole neighborhood. It was a fearful risk hut lie could wait no longer for it would soon be dawn and too late to attempt the recovery of the ring. He drop]it'd himself dexterously, by aid of the outside pillars, to the grass below and crept noiselessly across the yard. He leaped the dividing fence and with a daring defiance of ail purity lie climbed the net-work of iron ladened with vines—that reached to the cham ber above. Breathless he stood for a moment on the balcony, then raised the window sash softly and entered. On the bed an exquisite picture of loveliness was presented—a woman half disrobed lay across the rich silk coverlet, as if she had meant to rest awhile before completing her night toilette and had fallen asleep. How pure, how beautiful, she looked. How sweet the scent of flowers and toilet perfumes! In the center of the room he had paused to look at her. He remained motionless as if in a dream—a conflict of good and evil. His eyes still burned with that unnatural luster yet liis breast heaved with an odd sense of awe, of reverence. His lips grew tremulous with tenderness, with a purer breath as if his mother had just kissed them with a prayer that lie might be good even as in the old days of boyhood. Panting with this inexplicable sensation he moved on again. Step by step he drew nearer to her—steps so soft, so gentle—only ail an gel’s wings were needed to arrest the evil de sign. He gazed in breathless admiration upon the lovely face, Ins heart throbbing fiercely. He stooped to kiss the sweet lips. The ring and cross, and all the night’B mis ery and work, was forgotten—he was lost in the wild love that flooded his being. He bent his head lower—his face almost touched hers—but suddenly he drew back in proud self-defiance; he trembled violently and caught his breath with a gasp. A hard fight between the angel of light and the evil spirit possessing him. Through the magnetism in that sacred at mosphere purity conquered. The drunken spirit sobered at once—and then the foul passions, the madness that had wrecked his honor at the ball, that had brought him there, and which was driving him then to dare a dted of infamy lay in all its execrible n B rlrim«« before his awakened senses. He drew from his pocket a blank book and pencil and wrote hurriedly. “I entered your room a thief, a would be robber of the vilest nature, but I only steal a shall not sink sgain into tbs depths. 1 return your cross. Keep the ring and when you look at it whisper a prayer for the unhappy owner —the wretched sinner you have this night res cued from crime.” He tore the leaf from the book, drew from bis breast the broach which he folded within the paper and laid into the open hand, lying, with its palm upward, on the pillow, then turned away sorrowfully, as one leaves the high altar, with that mingled sense of peace and self-unworthiness. A commotion in the house startled the sleeping beauty. She rubbed her brow con fusedly, then murmured—“only a dream.” But her hand instinctively closed down on the article left there when the pin pricked her fin gers. She rose hastily—unrolled the paper leaf, gazed in wonder and dismay at her own jewel so mysteriously reoovered. While reading the lines contained in the wrapper her face and neck flooded with a crimson tide—then she grew pale to the roots of her hair—a vague comprehension of wliat had occurred made her heart throb with fear and her lips quiver with womanly indignation The door opened. She thrust the package aside. “Estelle, my dear, do not be alarmed, said a middle aged" lady, entering the room. ‘-Wliat is it?” she asked, under her breath, in a kind of awe. The suspicion that a burglar had entered the premises brought the watchman to warn us and to make a search. A man’s form was seen in the garden, and afterwards his shadow on the shell walk beneath the lattice. After reassuring Estelle the lady left the room to make further inquiries. Estelle trembled violently. The strange message left in her hand by the mysterious visitor seemed to be written on the walls around her. With a light quick movement slie went towards the balcony. Her steps were arrested suddenly. A pair of eyes of marvelous brightness set deep in a pale, suffering face, met hers. Mutely they gazed at one another in a be wildered fascination. The pale face was suddenly transformed— the awakening goodness in him sent a beam of transcendent light into llie features, while the bright reflection from the gas framed liis head in a halo of glory. One might imagine such a look on the face of the thief on the cross when Christ said: “This day thou slialt. he with me in para dise.” He was hanging to the network of iron on the outside of the balcony with his swinging body enveloped within the deep vines. He was completely hidden save from her eyes. How interminably long the search, by the watch and gentlemen of the house, seemed to these two creatures so mysteriously interested iu the result. At last the doore closed and silence reigned again. The searcli had been in vain. Adalbert waited until all was quiet again. As the lingering echo of the watchman’s fool steps died away he swung himself noiselessly to and fro and dropped into the yard on a soft bed of turf, then secreted himself among the vines and flowers. He seemed to be in another world—in a day dream of joy and remorse mingling strangely. Estelle clasped her hands together tightly in an agony of interest as she watched liis hold leap, and as he disappeared in the darkness she shuddered. “Quiet yourself, dear,” said tiie lady, re turning to Estelle’s room. “They discovered no one—a false alarm no doubt. But, even if not, the villain will not dare make a further attempt to-night, do not fear it.” “I do not fear it.” Estelle answered solemn ly. Together the two ladies closed up the room securely, and Estelle retired—not to sleep—but to think and to wonder. CHAPTER VII. Estelle Deliive was waiting in a studio to speak to Mr. Maurepas, the artist. She was looking dreamily at a painting while a pair of lustrous black eyes from the rear of the studio gazed with intense admiration on the living picture—herself. “Ah, Miss Estelle, I am delighted, honor ed,” said Mr. Maurepas,entering. “Whyhas it been so long since my fair scholar favored the studio?” “Society's demands," answered Miss De- Hive, shaking hands with him. “1 have wanted to come, and also to resume my art work.” “Mr. Rosseberne, please uncover my new picture to show to Miss DeRive—excuse me, allow me to present to you my student, Mr. fn She felt f or him, and was strong to assume the utter unconsciousness of ever having seen his face before. But it was a face she could never forget. During the half hour’s conver sation, the pale-faced student was silent, while the hand holding his palette trembled so he was in danger of ruining the picture he was vainly endeavoring to continue painting. His agitation did not escape her, and her eyes moistened with compassion. Estelle desires to resume her art studies, and the hour for her daily lessons at the studio was satisfactorily arranged. As she was leaving the studio she bowed kindly to the student. She wished to ask Mr. Maurepas, while he handed her toiler carriage, about his new pupil but refrained lest she should betray her interest and arouse the curi osity of the artist as to where she had seen this unknown person. Ah, the pure pleasure, almost happiness, in the companionship that followed. For one hour of each day during many weeks Estelle Deliive, a wealthy city belle, and Bert Rosseberne, the poor young artist, were fellow students in th3 same studio, There was never a word of love spoken, yet she was conscious of his ardent admiration; and at times she would ask herself, “what am I doing? Is it not cruel to feed a lovo liks his, which can bring to him only misery and to me naught but pity, perhaps remorse?’’ When these warning questions arose to her pure mind she would absent herself from the study hour for a few days; but that one hour’s attractions, to which, many times, was added an extra hour, were alluring to her also. She thought it was for pity of him in his friendless life, and because of her own earnest desire to add her influence towards his elevation to a good and worthy career, that she persuaded herself to go back and continue the delightful study together. The day after that memorable carnival night Adalbert in the enthusiasm of a sudden reform had gone out in search of work. ttnee, long ago, he had designed becoming a painter and had studied the art a year or t vo. ilis first thought was to seek employment in an art gallery; for that purpose lie called on Mr. Mau repas. Moved by an ir.resistible impulse he confided his own story, withholding no part of its shame, to the artist, who, in deep compas sion and true helpful sympathy held out his hand to tht wretched young man, with offers of assistance, on the condition of an immediate change in his life and habits; and to enable him to do so the good artist loaned Adalbert the money needful to extricate himself from his embarrassments and from his evil asso ciates. At this merttsat-ft cry of horror went up from the multitude • A lady in the right wing!" My God! It is Estelle,” sa’d a lady near Bert, “since the burglar entered the house on Mardi Gras night, I have always locked her door at night, and I forgot to unlock it in my mad fright” Bert waited not an instant, but crushed through the crowd, sweeping all out of his path with bo&aarms. In savvage force he cleared a way flthe ladder. Up first one ladder, then another, brave men had dared the horrors, only to drop back in mortal terror. “Too late! too late!” Bert’s foot was on the ladder, his eyes rais ed to her window. She was looking down on him with wide open, strain jd eyes, white as death—still as a fixture of marble statuary. “Come down, inan! It is madness!” shouted many voices. But he heeded not—seeing only the beautiful white face at the window, hearing nothing but the hissing of tl?;; cruel Haines. “Noble man! you are giving your life for mine,” she said, as lie reached the last round of the ladder. He sprang through the window and began to fasten a rope arc nd her waist. She caughCV, arm convulsively. “I will not accept my life at the cost of yours. Can we not both be saved through the back way?” ‘ No.” “Ready!” he shouted to the men below— then taking her in his arms with a force she could not resist, he lifted her toward the win dow. “God save you!” she whispered hoarsely. Tenderly he lowered her slight form to the outstretched arms of a dozen men. waiting be neath the win low to receive her. Her hot, dry eyes, glistening in the intensity of anguish were never once removed from the manly beauty of the white face leaning out from the window. f “O, God! savVhim!” She exclaimed She was gra£p^d by the strong arms held out for her. The flames hurst out near him in ragin' fury, and through the lur d glare of tiie mere! less illumination, she saw him cover liis face with both hands, Then, she knew nothin more. [to be continued. ] A NIGtfT OF HORROR; AND Confession of a Suicide. By CHANCELLOR W. S. FLEMING, of Tennessee ' No. 1. Some years agq it was my fortune to be in “Barrens” ofT breath of purity that recovers to me my man hood. Ah. angel of purity, may you he blessed through life sod in the end reap the reward of saved through you. God helping me it The bells far and wide rang the alarm, and catching up the cry, “fire! fire!” one voice after another waked up the sleeping city. Then there was a lull of human voices, only the rattling of engines and horses hoofs strik ing against the stones filled the space with discordant echoes. An art student, burning the midnigiit lamp in engrossing study, held his pallette poised between his face and the easel, listening invol untarily. The alarm of fire in a city seldom startles, but Bert Kosenberne, the student, felt strange- iy affected, as though about to face a great danger. He laid the pallette down hastily, and opening the window, leaned out to ascer tain in which direction the fire was. “The garden district” he murmered anxi ously. Estelle DeRive’s home was in that neighbor hood. She might be in danger. He waited not a moment. A lurid scene, fascinating in its magnificent horrors, met his eyes after running some dis tance. “Mr. DeRive’s residence” was the answer given to his enquires on arriving near the illu minated block. It was plain that the first story of the main building was burning with alarming rapidity. The left wing was on fire, the back buildings were in flames to the roof, crackling and rush ing, as if toclimb even to the sky in the fury of the struggle with the rising wind. The arched galleries were blazing, darting forth flaming tongues that shot up and oat to the right and left; then, combining forces in one broad wave of flames, enveloped (he lower story of the right wing. “The family—are they safe?” asked Bert “All.” “Is there no one in the boose?” the “Barrens” ofTennessee with a few com panions, our object being the pursuit of health and recreation, The “Btrrens” are found in a tier of couflti*£, forming the rim which bounds, on the west, the rich and fertile coun ties, known as tiie “basin” of Middle Tennes see. These “Barrens,” as the term indicates, are very poor, the natural growth being black- jacks, scrubby oaks, and, in some places, a thick undergrowth of bushes, shrubs and vines of every description. At the time of which I write, game was abundant, such as deer, turk eys, wolves and wildcats. We went out with all the necessary equipage of camp life, and to give variety and interest to the occasion, carried with us our dogs and guns. < lur tent was pitched beside a line bold spring of deli ciously cool, free-stone water. It was the spring season of the year and the tr.es and bushes we: e all in leaf—the vines ill bloom- tlie warm air laden with the perfume of wild II iwers and flowering vines and shrubs. Na ture was arrayed in her loveliest garb, tricked out in her most fantastic and variegated col ors. But with all her loveliness and spring time freshness, the country around wore an air of solitude and desolation that was really depressing. There was no song of birds un less the boo ing of the owl by night or the plaintive notes of the whij -poor-will may be classed as song. No bright, painted wings flashed through or among the branches of the trees or nestled and fluttered among the clus tering leaves. Once in a while might be heard, among the deadened timber of some distant clearing, the hammering of the wood-peckers horny beaks. In this tirnhwiettled region, a man might ride miles - -DU'ow-being or •-n tL— ;',!']%■ highway .1- ......l-.l. op.e county seat to another or along some creek hottoiu. I have brought out with me my faithful and we’.'-trained slow-track dog, half hound and half blood-liound. He was larger than the or dinary fox-hound, and well-built for strength and endurance, and not inferior to most hounds iu flee mess—very tractable, intelligent and obedient to every command—docile as a lamb, yet fierce and formidable as neeessi'y might require. The siow-track dog. with deer, is something like the pointer with birds; he is not expected to flush the game, but when he has scented the trail, to k--ep near and a little ahead of the hunt! r, until he finds from the scent that the deer is not far off and then, ny a.-i.'ii c nt look, he informs the hunter to be on the aien. They then move more slowly and cautiously, until at the crack of the gun, the game is brought down; or, if only wound ed sever: 1/, the dog is urged to pursue, which he is but too eager to do. Of this kind of hunting I was exceedingly fond. The only objection to it is that it lacks the element of sociability, as it is important to proceed as noiselessly as possible, and therefore the hunt er should go alone. One afternom I took my gun—called up 'Vol (for that was the name of my dog) and, though it was unusually warm, started towards the head of a small creek (I use the term in its southern and western sense as signifying a running stream or rivulet) where I supposed I would find ph u y of game, especially as I had never been there to molest them. I went on foot. On the way. and some three miles from h • ramp. I passed cl >se by an c 11 waste house, whi h I la! seen two or th-ee lims before] but which 1 had never entered or stopped Ion" eneigli to examine. I thought then, and I think now, it was the most out-of-the-way, lonely, desolate place I ever saw. It was a single story log house, with one room below, about eigli ecu feet square, and one door open ing oil the south side. The chimney was con structed of wood and clay, and was very wide, with a hearth of large, undressed, flat rocks. There was a sort of attic or loft above, and a small window in the gable, without sash or gliss, but having a rude plank shutter. The whole had gone into hopeless decay. Even the wooden steps at the door had rotted and distppeared. The clap-board roof was nearly gone. No fence enclosed, the place, nor was there any evidence it had ever been enclosed, except a few rotten fragme its of rails lying here and there aroiuid the lit le cleared lot or space of an acre or two. This cleared space was now overgrown with patches of black-ber ry vines, sedge grass and dwar fish persim mons, some four or five old gnarled, knotted apple trees stood or rather leaned, in spots, irregularly about, half decayed and stooping at an angle of for ;y-five degrees, as if the De mon of the st rm had suddenly repented of his cruelty and lifted from them the crushing pres sure of his dark wing. Such was this dreary, forsaken place, once the habitation of man, now apparently the haunt of owls and bats—a place where one might taoly imagine Ghouls and Goblins held their nocturnal revels, and celebrated their midnight ogries. We passed by, Wolf and I, not making any pause; for though it was broad day light, we or I, at least, was willing to give it a wide berth, only casting hasty, furtive glances, almost fearing lest I might see a hobgoblin step out of the door. We proceeded on our way, I suppose, some mile or two, before we reached the pro posed hunting ground. It was now about four o’clock p. m. Wolf struck several good trails, but the deer invariably took the alarm, and dashed away before I could get a shot. I af terwards attributed this quickness of alarm to the peculiar state of the atmosphere imparting the deer an acuteness of sme 1 that was not common. The evening was now growing intensely warm—clou Is were sweeping across the sky, like black-winged birds—the atmosphere as sumed an oppressive sultriness, such as to a close weather-observer foreboded a storm. Once in a while could be heard a low, deep rumble of distant thunder, which soon became louder and more frequent I began to think of retracing my steps and hurrying back to camp as fast as possible, but found myself un certain as to the direction I must take. I had wandered about upon the deer trails until I became confused as to the points of the com pass; and the more so, ms the sun was now ob scured behind a murky bank of lowering clouds. At last I got s clue, by which I could be guided on my return Before I reached the old house, already described night had set in, and with the night was rapidly coming on the tempest. From the constant flashes of light- . which 1 was alone guided; from the deafening and incessant roar of the thunder, and from the awful blackness of the writhing clouds, I saw that I would soon be in the midst of one of those terrific tornadoes, that occa sionally visit our Western country with terri ble destruction. As I approached the old waste house, it seemed to me I would smother by reason of atmospheric rarefaction and sultriness. And now was distinctly heard, amid the elemental war, a peculiar roar to the South West, like the heavy rumbling, in the distance, of a train of freight cars, rapidly approaching. It rose above and drowned the roar of the thunder— it was the onward tread of the tornado, rapid and dreadful in its destructive march. Much as I was horrifiei at the thought of taking shelter in this solitary, old house, I saw at one3 that dilapidate!, and unwelcome as it was, it was my only chance or hope of refuge. T1 e-e was no time for refle: t on—the tempest was upon me—the door was wide open—I rushed in closely followed by Wolf—closed the frail shutter and hr iced it witli a piece of tim ber lying on the floor, which I saw by the wav ing of the storm king’s torch as he passed. The fear I now felt was, that, if the house stood in the patli of the storm—the storm-cen ter, it w: u ! d be swept aw ly like chaff. Luck ily, I should saj, proii lentially, it passed a little north of us, from south west to north east; and outside the immediate track of the mimic cyclone, the wind, though severe, was not destructive—hut the rain fell in torrents— almost a water-spout. I manage!, when the worst seemed to be over, with the aid of a sin gle lucifer- aiatch I found in my vest pocket and two or three charred brands, that had lain on the stone hearth for years, to kindle a little fire, partly for light and partly because the air had become consiierably cooler after the storm. During all this time blinding flashes in quick succession, were almost sim ultaneously followed by crashing bolts, that descending, rent to splinters tiie taller oaks, or bur-ting in the clouds, rolled away, echoing and re-echoing among the far-off Hills. TO BE CONTINUED. Patrick’s Certificate of Honesty. Patrick applied for a situation as porter for a wholesale store. “Patrick, I’m afraid your’e not strict’y bon est.” “Faith an’ phy does ye he thinkin’ Oi’mnot honest?” “Well, I’ve heard some whisperings that you were a little unreliable when at your iast place. I must have a perfectly honest man here.” “Faith ail’ Oi can show ye a certificate of honesty that’ll make ye change your mind moighty quick.” He then drew out a piece of paper contain ing words of the greatest praise of himself. “Who wrote this, Patrick?” "Who wrote it? Oi did, sir." “Oh, oh! Is a certificate of your own writ ing a proof of your honesty?” “It is, sor; because, sor, Oi know more about meself than any* other mon do; an’ be- .gorry, if Oi wasn’t honest Oi wouldn’t be after tellin’ ye Oi writ it meself.” “Well, I’ll try you, Patrick.” That Settled It. Many years ago there lived an old maid no ted principally for her bad temper and her daily endeavors to catch a man. An old wid ower having coine to stay in the village she set her cap for Him, and after a short acquain tance decided to bring the affair to an end by posting to herself a nice valentine, on which was printed an affectionate four-liner. The letter being duly delivered to her she fixed on “Tammas, the widowe-.” “Oh, Tammas, I never thoclit ye was sic an auld fule as send that braw valentine to me, and sic a nice love verse, too.” Tammas, after examining it carefully, grin ned and said: “Why, woman, her that sent ye that was a bizger fule than me.” Wondering what had caused Tam’s amuse ment she took the missive and found on a fly leaf her own name in full, and below, “from your affectionate sister,” and dated ten years back. That settled it. So Modest. [Rambler.] Foggs—“Speaking of te-leg-raphy—” Miss Prude (forcing a blush)—“Oh, Mr. Fogg, how can you pronounce the word in that way?’* Fogg—“It’s according to the dictionary.” Miss Prude—“But think of the vulgarity I If we jnust acceir^“t he seco-gd-j A Fearful Leap Into the abyss of poverty, over the precipice of shortsightedness is taken by thousands, who might become wealthy, if they availed themselves of their opportunities. Those who write to Hallet & Co., Portland, Maine, will he informed, free, liow they can make from So to $25 a day and upwards. Some have made over $50 in a day You can do the work and live at home wherever you are located. Both sexes ; all ages. All is new. You are started free. Capital not needed. Now is the time. Better not delay. Every worker can secure a snug little fortune. The Christmas present which Mrs. I.amont received from the President is worthy of no tice. It is a fire screen made entirely of a bald eagle, with outstretched wings, poised on a highly artistic frame of brass. The great bird looks exceedingly life-like. It was taken in the Adirondacks last summer. Though the President failed to shoot a deer in the Adiron dacks it seems that lie brought down an eagle. The idea of many million people bein" en tirely under the control of one man, and° that man’s slightest and most outrageous orders obeyed without hesitation, is not pleasant, es pecially if that man gives orders at times when he has delirium tremens. And yet this is the effect of a cablegram in a Ntw York Sunday paper to the effect that the fear of Nihilists plotters lias forced the Czar of Russia to strong drink and that he is in'a habitual Mate of jim- jams. One of his pleasures while in this con dition is to force everybody around him to get drunk, as they dare not disobey him. Promi nent Russians, it is alleged, are fearful that he will, in me of his drunken fits, throw the whole of Europe into war. Next week will be a week of prayer in all civilized countries of the world. The United States Evangelical Alliance has announced a full programme for the week. We do not know if our Augusta churches have made any preparations for the observance of the pro gramme. This is All. BY ROH1E CHUKCHILla. Just a saunter in the twilight. Just a whisper in the hall JiiHt. a fl ’it on flea nr river Just a danc * at rout, or ball- Juflt a glance that hearts enthrall— This is a'-l—and this is all. Just a few harsh words of doubting. Just a silence proud and c Id. Just a spiteful breath of slander, Just a wrong that is not told. Just a word beyond recall — This is all— and this is ill. Jndt a life robbed of its brightness. Just a heart by soriow tilled. Just a f i»h that tr- sta no longer, Just a love by doubting chilled. Just a few hot tears th t fall - Trie is all—ah! this is all. Couldn’t Get Ahead of that Girl. [Harper’s Bazar.] At a house in Ohio where a minister was boarding, the servant girl was anxious to .an ticipate everything in tier work that any one wished her to do. She bad always “just done it,” or was “just doing it” when any order was given. This amused the young divine greatly, and on one occasion he thought to nonplus tiie girl by a ruse. “I don’t think Eliza has washed my Bible since I have been here,” he said to the mistress in a low tone, but designed to be overheard by the girl. A few minutes later the mistress said to her in the presence of the clergyman: “Eliza, have you washed Mr. Blank’s Bible?” “No, ma’am, but I’ve got it asoak.” Living. BY ADA IP PINOS GALE. Ft is not living—drawirg of o»»e’s breath. Else it were easier; living is to strive To do most valiant battle with the ranks That do assail bo h fro-r within and out. >’he legions of temptations, hosts of sin. Crowding discouragements and baffled hopes. The misconstructions of malignant minds That rise like a j bushed spies and ai" Straight for the heart. He who lives truly bears Ever his shield about him, keeps his eye Fixed on the foe, unflinching and unquolled. Courage, undaurtir g. ever undismayed. His watchw »rd is. He is most victor who. The conflict ended, counts hitr se.f as least. Not crowns or laurels are his just desert. Nor pra se of n en, nor a mad world's applause. But richer a eed he who thus conquerin < comes, Bears peace upon his br w and in his breast The halm of a still conscience—richer gifts The world affords not—richer gif s none need Thun : eaceand calm. He who possesses them Sits above kings for all unheard by him Pass by the hideous discords of the world. Asked Too Many Questions for a Woman. [St. Paul Herald.] “Johnnie I)e Blank,” said the teacher se verely; “you are the dullest boy I ever knew. I’ve asked you a dozen questions and you haven’t answered one of them.” Johnnie (whimpering)—“Seems to me, for a woman of your age, you ask an awful lot o’ questions anyway. If I asked dad half as many he’d whale the life outen me.” Old Friends. [Life J HE. Should old acquaintance be forgot? Have I not sto >d the test? Desert me not, I pray thee, love! Old friends are always beet. flprfeual. INFORMATION this season suffer from •neither > Headache, Neuralgia 9 Rheumatism, tins in the s f Hark and Rad Blood, i,Dyspepsia, MtUarUt,Con*tt potions- Kidney Trouble*. -h—VOUNA cordial cures rheumatism. H»S Blood nnd Kldnoy Trouble., by (Tenn.lnz th. b?<wd ofull it» impurities, Mrengthemng ull part* of the body. m—VOLINA CORDIAL CURES SICK-HEADACHE. Neuralgia, Pains in the Limbo. Bac k and Side, by EX tee nerve, and .trengteening tee muKlem -t—VOLINA CORDIAL CORES DYSPEPSIA. Indigestion nnd constipation, by aiding the as.im- lint ngoftbe Food through the proper action of ten itiXb ; It creates a healthy nppeme. -h—VOLINA CORDIAL CURES NERVOUSNESS. Depression of .pint, and Weain*., by enliven- lug and toning the system. m—VOLINA CORDIAL CORES OVERWORKED nnd Delicate Women, Puny nnd Sickly Children. It is delightful and nutritious os a general Tonic. Volina Almanac and Diary , for 1KH7. A handsome, complete ^M^'^HoMKteaT.^'aM.natnralnay: Sidled on receipt of a 2c. postage stamp. Address VOLINA DRUG A CHEMICAL CO. BALTIMORE, MD., U. 8. A. 579-1 yr. wm SURE CURES MOUTH WASH and DENTIFRICE used snd recommended by leading deot^jV-t fS*^^, pared by Das. J. P. & W.K. IIoI.«rs. Dentist*. Wr. sit. On. For Sale hr all druggists and dentists. SORE THROAT, CROUP AND HOARSE NESS CURED BY USING ijHolmes’! Mouth *Wasli* and DENTIFRICE. PFHSON8 We iring ArtifU'Uil Teeth .should use HOLMES’ MOUTH WASH and DENTIFRICE. It will keep the gums heal thy and free from soreness; keeps the plate from getting loose and being offensive. A Pure Wreath. Clean teeth ami Meal thy Gums by using Holmes’ Mouth Wash , and Dentifrice. Try it. A Persistent Feflhig «>f Cleanliness re mains for hours .after using Holmes’ Mouth Wash and Dentifrice. From John H. Coyle, D. D. S. f Profes sor Operative Dentistry and Den tal Materia Medica, Balti more Dental College. Having been shown the formula for Holmes’ Sure Cure Mouth Wash and Dentifrice. 1 will say that from my knowledge of the therapeu tic action of each of these substances entering into its composition on dweased mucus mem branes of the mouth and gums, I believe it to be a specific in a large number of the ordinary deceased conditions for which it is recommend ed. 1 say this on theoretic grounds .and am satisfied that a practical test of this mouth wash in my own practice has more than justi fied my expectations. I therefore reccommend it for general use and would be glad to know that every man and woman in the country would try it for themselves, believing that it will result iu great good to those who use it as directed. Athens, Ga.—I have had occasion recently to test the virtues of your Sure G’ure Mouth Wash in an aggrevated case of inllamed and ulcerated gums, with most gratifying re sults. 1 find that I can accomplish more in a short time with Sure Cure Mouth W*sh than any other one of the many similar prepara tions I have ever used in my practice of many years. I wish that every one, old and young, would use your preparation according to the printed directions, and then, I think, the den tist would be able to accomplish more good for their patients, and do it with more satisfaction to all concerned. H. A. LOWRANCE, I). D. S. SHE. A%orf oo Of ten' tdqa J ^ My heart demand" fresh vibt Old friends may he too old. }f the^Co*. now. He Was Civil, fading O PIUM and MORPHINE HABIT CUBED IN ;rmary—a branch hnuee of llr. Hrowna. ther information aririrnna — — t otf'lnnrimi Galtwtq. [Boston Record. ] A farmer went one day to the p:« the woman of his choice to bete aSr _ “What’s your fee, parson?” he askctteif eq’Vo dollars,” said the parson. “Two dolit ftw* ex claimed the farmer; “well, I s’pose l\/ jev to pay it to ye, but if ye charge me $2 for lUerry- in’ me, ye’ll hev to he purty goldarned civil about it.” A Bit of Pottery. The usuil treatment of catarrh is very un satisfactory, as thousands of despairing pa tients can testify. On this point a trustwor thy medical writer says: “Proper local treat ment is positively necessary to success, but many, if not most of the remedies in general use by physicians afford but temporary bene fit. A cure certainly cannot be expected from snuffs, powders, douches and washes.” Ely’s Cream Balm is a remedy which combines the important requisites of quick action, specific curative power with perfect safety and pleas antness to the patient. The putter Stood st his daily wn-k. One patient foot on the ground ; The other, with never slacken!' r speed, Tnrning his sw ft wheel round. Silent we stiMsl beside ir-m there ; Watchmgthe restless knee. ’Till my friend said low. in pitying voice, “How tired hie foot most be.’’ The potter never psnsed in hie work. Shaping the wondrous thing; ’Twas only a common flower pot. But perfect in fashioning. S'cwly he raised hi. ratient eyes. With homely truth umpired ; ’’No marm, it teu’t the foot that kicks— The one that stands gets tired. A Proposal Summarily Checked. [ Boston (’ourier. ] He was .about, to propose, but was somewhat nervous. He didn’t know’how to begin. At last he stammered ou;: “I’m very uneasy.” “I neasy ?’’ flhe echoed. Then the added empatl etically : “I’ll bet it’s a fiea off my dog. I’ve been there.” He didn’t propose. It seemts to us tfiat ki-M g i* wasted. The pleasure's gone befon- you taste it. A greater joy, a sweet r bliss. Lies in theiun< and linKerin^ kiss — The melting kies, a’ we might say. lhat fairly takes your breath away. J. L PEEKS. Superintendent. 89 South Broad St.eet, Atlanta, Ga. kPIUM, CHLORAL AND WHISKEY HABITS * successfully treated without pam or detention i daily business. NO RESTRICTIONS ON DIET. O p IUM AND WHISKEY HABITS CURKU AT home without pain. Book of particulars sent free. B. M. WOOLLEY, M. D. Ati^nta, Ga. Mention this paper. Offb»e63»4 WMt^hnll 8t. CONSUMPTION. I h»vo • positive remedy for the abovn disease; by its tise thousands of canoe or the worst kind aod of Ions; ■landing have been cured. Indeed, no strong Is my faith In Its offlcat’T, that t will aend TWO BOTTLES FREE, together with a VA M7ABLB TREATISE on this dlseaac, U> any eufferer. Give Express and P. O. nddrwM. PR. T. A. SLOCUM, 181 Pearl St.. New York. 00?i£ceflaiicoit0 HWjS£->$12M The President is steadily improving health. He has not resumed his office work yet, however, as his physicians advise him to secure as much rest as possible. HOSFORO’S ACID PHOSPHATE For Impaired Vitality. Dr. F. Skillem, Pulaski, Tenn., says: “I think it is a reliable medicine for impaired vitality.” Detective Pinkerton said last night in Chi cago that he had secured information as to the whereabouts of all the money stolen by the Frisco train robbers. The portion not cap tured in Chicago and Leavenworth was bnried in five different States. Each of the locations has been designated by Witrock, but how the information was obtained, or where the places are, Pinkerton refuses to disclose. The select List of Local Newspapers con trolled by Geo. P. Rowell & Co., 10 Spruce st., New York, is composed of the best dsily and weekly papers outside the large cities and cov ers the whole country. Orders are taken for single States, and at astonishingly low prices. Catalogues are sent free. More than $25,000 have already been raised for Mrs. John A. Logan by the friends of her dead husband. Indian Weed acts as a general and specific tonic to the female constitution. By giving tone to and building up the prostrated, nervous and muscular systems, it makes regular and healthy all the natural functions of the female oiganinn. Thackeray ana the Bowery B’hoy. Thackeray, the novelist, when in New York expressed to a friend a desire to see some of the “Bowery b’lioys,” who, he had heard, were a class of the community peculiar to that city. So one evening lie was taken to the Bowery and he was shown a “b’hoy.’’ The youth was leaning against a lamp-post, smok ing an enormous cigar; and his whole aspect was one of ineffable self-satisfaction. The eminent novelist, after contemplating him for a few moments with silent admiration, said to the gentleman by whom he was accompanied: “This is a great and gnrgeom creature!” add- ing: Can I speak to him without his taking offense? ’ Receiving an answer in the affirmative, Thackeray went up to the fellow on the pre text of asking his way, and said: My good man, I want to go to Broome street.” But the unlucky phrase, “My good man,” roused the gall of the individual spoken to. Instead, therefore, of affording the informa tion sought, the “b’hoy”—a diminutive speci- men of humanity, scarcely over five feet in height eyeing the tall form of his interlocu- tor askance, answered the query in the sense that his permission had been asked for the speaker to visit the locality in question, and he said patronizingly; “Well, sonny, you kin go thar.” J When Thackeray subsequently related the incident, he laughingly declared that he was so disconcerted by the unexpected response that he had not the courage to continue the dialogue. A little arithmetic shows that a mince pie suitable for the Bartholdi Goddess of Liberty’s mouth would have to be thirty feet in diame- ter. Favorite Instruments. For an old maid, the piano forty; for the t b h« r HrMm the f!'! t fK’ the com, nercial traveler, the drum, for the farmer, the hoe boy; tor the country hotel, the vile inn ; for the free- masons, the symbol*; for the pawnbroker, the politi ? ian > the or gan; tor lovers, tne mouth hsrmoDics. Tony McO wen remarked to Captain Norris that he sat down to hia breakfast every morn- f Nort a aaidit aeemed odd that he could ait down to hia breakfast at half-past eight, for when he got through it was . x? > f2 eu P o n McOwra drew a revolver Thejnry said justify fpiHS ELEGANT HOUSE IS NOT ^ARGB X bat it m so well planned that it afford. afford; . . , — -laamy. inniw open the doabie doors or portieres and nearly the whole of the first floor is practically one large aptrtment. A do*- en persons may spend the day here without crowdin*- P-uticularly as there is a large veramla. and forty per sons are comfortable at a reception. With the ooi* ner mantels, Queen Anne balusters and mils stained glass window over the stair landing flooding the hnii and parlor with beautiful lights and a pretty side b*»ard in view from the dining room, th«-*e apart ments are both elegant and hospitable and satisfy th* most fastidious hostess. The kitchen is solidly sep arated from the rest of the house, communicating with the dining room through a convenient pantry,in which are sink, shelves and drawers. Iu the South, where detached kitchens are preferred, the room marked kitchen is used for a library or lied roofh, connecting with other rooms by double d«*or». This makes a delightful cove and airy arrangement. There the second floor. 1 “ Plenty of the above 2 large and 2 small bed rooms and 2 more can be finished off in the att of closets every where. The whole house warmed by the one central chimney. Large illustrations and description house, as well as of .*9 other modern houses ranging in »? 8t w/ r 'i m * 400 “P u > f«.000, may be found in “Show, pell s Modern Low-Cost Houses,” a large quarto pamphlet of 1>6 illustrations and very full readiag matter. It shows also how to select sites, make oow- tracts. negotiate loans, Ac., Ac. Mailed postpaid to address on receipt of 60 cents. Stamps if more convenient send $1 bill and we will return the change. Address, THE BUILDING PLAN ASSOCIATION, 24 Beekman Street (Box <70i), (B12 N«wY<£k. YOU You can now grasp a fortune. l^..5??sI nWe 10 *wpld wealth I with £4# One engravings, sent. I Free toany person. This Isa Ichanoe of a lifetime, so write at i to A COh I Brwadway, NewYork- W AN I KD-Bj a young lady of good family and euusauon. a situation aa companion. Address sunny South 99 (689-tf) ISONGS YICKEBY.HH 100 s«wiud pot alar ■nog. Mot free to all who send 4 easts to pay pu*ta«e. 100 pirns ohoios moaia 0 eta. Catalog, (m. P. O, ine 9!B 0t. Earthquake fluid. Oo« four-tech Teat Tuba with 2S Mads of aaM lor 25 cants. P. J BALAOUXB. MWt Box W. CbarMOoa, 8. a
