About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 15, 1887)
7 THE SUNNY SOU*' ATLANTA, GA.. SATURDAY ORNING, JANUARY 15. 1887. KARL, THE MILL-BOY, OK The Story of a Trial. BY L. B. £. CHAPTER III. In a few minutes the two men were heard vanning back from the scene of their incendia rism in great hurry. They seized Karl and stood him up on his feet and took the gag out si his mouth. _ . “Holler if ye dare and I’ll blow yer brains •ut. Fuller us in a run or ye’ll git the wustof It-*’ So saying they grabbed the terror stricken youth already faint with running and forced him into a rapid pace away from the mill. He dared make no noise for fear they would exe cute their deadly threat but followed as fast as he could, being led between two of the men. He glanced behind him as he ran, and could see the lurid gleam of red fire from the burn ing mill pain ing the clouds, for the moon was ■early set, and his heart was full of grief as he thought of the old mill where he had worked for so many years being burned up by such robbeTs. The flames leaped up toward the sky higher and higher and redder and redder but they only urged the three men to run the fast er. They had divided the money into three parts and each was carrying a third as he ran. Boon they left the road where they had met tfo one and struck into the woods about halt a mile from the mill. They then stopped running and sat down to rest in the secmsion of the forest. Day was just breaking, but not enough light was given to distinguish an} one at a distance. . . , “Well, Jim, I’low we’ve made a big haul this time. I calcerlate there’s nigh on to a •housand in there ’ere bags an* I call that er gov. 1 . ; * fit’s work. But, I'm blamed sorry hap on our hands, lie knows .t.this put him said J way, or he’ll peach on us, ’ said one ot the robbers whom the rest called Bob. “Yes,” said Karl summoning up ms bravery with a gre.v effort “You rascally set of thieves. 1 f ever I set loose from > our clutches I will see that you wretch;*, swing for this. Undo this rope from round my arms and 1 11 beat every one of you to a jelly. , At this impossible threat they laughed and Jim replied: “Yer needn't bother yerself my boy. i ou 11 never git back to that place Ye’re done ter when the Cap’ll claps down on yer. Dye hear that? He’ll shoot yer or lock yer up^or •end yer away, an’ye can take yer choice. “I have no choice to take ami ^nothing but •ruelty to expect from you devils,” said Karl. “Shut up*’ brutally cried the last one of the three and with his heavy fist struck lvarl a hard bl >w in the mouth which made the blood spurt out over his clothes. This put an effect ual end to the conversation. The men stood for a long time watching the red light in the direction of the mill, growing brighter and brighter until they could even see the flames and then by slow degrees dying out until there was nothing more to be seen. I hen they turned into the woods again and prepared to move. . The party of four had a long, long walk ot it through woods, over fences, avoiding roads »nd houses until Karl nearly dropped in his tracks from fatigue. They had loosed the bands from his arms but continued to watch him narrowly. At noon they sat down by a brook and ate a slight repast and rested for an hour. Karl had lost the direction and had no idea how far he had gone or where he was or in what direction he was going. t ile ventured to ask where they were taking him but received no reply. He coinpl lined of . Hie heat and taking off his collar dropped it in mi', the road hoping that any pursuers could thus inut guided. But one of the men saw it, picked Itaei . U p an( j g a ve it back to him vitl castei amine. At sunset the party is Jje Vj Kar | sank j 0WI1 on the ground exhausted the S- _ d refusing the hard crust of bread which be ca s thrust at him, in spite of his feir and of tb <• he cio-ed his eyes in sleep. Here we f'l cit again leave him for a time, me L eai Tire neighborhood of the mill all was ire no n£ a nd confusion on the night of the fire, es ; ant* .. „ere ro alarm bells to ring and no lire the sparks flew up in a stream and came down in a shower upon the heads of the crowd who had rushed to a safe distance from danger. Soon the sides were burned down and the flames were growing smaller and less fierce and the work of destruction was over. The miller had stood mute and hel aless as it went on. For once in his life he was broken down and powerless, and even those who had suffer ed from his hard words now felt a pity for him in his great distress. The sun arose soon after and looked down on the smoking scene. The crowd of men had dispersed, each to his labor and all to talk over what had happened. Only two or three re mained behind with the miller who sat down on a log, covered his face in his hands and poured out his grief. “Oh me, oli me, what shqjl I do? This was all I hud to make my living from and I had placed my semirings inside the walls. Now all is gone. Foci that I was to feel secure and easy. What will the old woman do and little Mary? IIow can I stand it? It will kill me in my old age to do anything but keep a mill and I have not a cent left, and the mortgage on my house is due next month. I had better a died tlun to live and starve. Nobody now will have any use for Miller Brown, lie’s got no money and no mill.” Here the old man quite broke kown in tears and said no more. Someone said to him: “Yon had better to go back home and get your breakfast. You can’t do any thing now, but will find something for you. Nothing is equal to a good bile of food to help a mail think.” But the Old man shook bis head sadly and replied: ••Ho! ho! I don’t want to eat. Me and Karl have worked here for many a year, but we ain’t goin’ to work any more.” Suddenly, as he sat rocking himself, the thought came to him that Ka.l had not been seen at the fire, and lie arose .from his seat ; with a strange look gathering “Why where’s that boy Karl? J ain’t seen him at the fire, lie ain’t been near this place, and I told my wife to wake him up juit as soon a-s I left the house. I wonder where he could be?” With tliat strange look which grew deeper and darker he walked slowly up the road to wards his home. As lie walked he seemed to he recovering his former self more and more. He lifted himself up straight and struck his breast with his fist and set his lips tight to- and if he ever comes back I’m} going to have him sent to the penitentiary. M>o you hear? The mother had heard it only’ too well, and it pierces her soul through and through, she could give no answer but lay back on her pil low gasping for breath. Kate,listened with flashing eyes. She had heard already of the mill’s burning and had wondered why Karljhad not come home. She had not told her mother for fear of the excitement. The miller spoke UI “Te’ii; you say he ain’t been here and ainH hid around here nowhere®”—here he cast- Ins eyes about searchingly—I guess III 6° °ack. 1 just came to tell you that your boy Karl lias been a devil, a rogue, a runaway, h .as ruined me forever and that if he ever comes m my way he may look out.” lie arose.from his seat seing that lie had wrought much damage to the sick U1 As he put his hat squarely on his he ^^ turned to go Mrs. Bierman rose ou her elbow ^“Howsi'r’do you know that my boy has done tins’ How do you know he took your money and run away? Oh, spare a poor mother from such a blow. Have mercy, sir, on me and “ThSer was deaf to her entreaties and replied, “ma’am I looked carefully over the ashes of the burnt house and have not found one piece of that money. I found Karl s P>sto , coat and hat near the mill nex morninganif he weren’t the rascal these ere things loo “ife'turned'aiid went out and strode down the walk without looking back muttering grumly between his teeth. Mrs. Bierman fell back on her pillow and a deadly pallor over spread her wan face. With a low cry of pan. she raised her hand toherfacem tiinetocareh the stream of blood that burst from her “Tare ran to her side again and strove to wipe away the red life blood that kept coming up from the lungs telling of the fearful hemonrh- age She creed to the servant to bring her water and the little brandy that was left in the bottle. With these she tried to restore her patient Soon the blood ceased to r.se and the hemorrhage was over and Kate aid her mater back upon the pillow from whence sl.e had raised her. The eyes were closed and sunken and a deeper pallor was on her face than bad ever before rested there. . . Kate was alarmed. Tears came ‘nto 'e eyes and she chafed the hands of the n., ther and bent over to kiss them anil the drops of hi r juronv and pain fill fast. By and by toe eyes opened and a faint whisper came up from the bed. ¥h A Nb - ^ iath of halted again o lies to run and pl'W gether. He strode into his house and pushed open the door of Karl’s room—nothing there, not even the bed had be;n occupied. ‘Musi as I expected,” he said in a loud and harsli tone, “That infernal puppy of a mill boy lias done all this mischief and run away. I knowed something was wrong when I heard those brutes harking last night. I wager he has found the money I hid in the mill and stole it, then set the house afire and run off. That’s a pretty mess. A lise piece of thanks for all I’ve done for him. Now I reckon my wife will come to her senses about that liuib of satan. If I ever get my hands on him he will feel how sweet it is to steal and burn.” All this and more he said in a hard fierce voice, showing how deep was his wrath, and how quickly indignation had sucoeeded to weakness. Miller Brown was not long to be cast down. He soon recovered himsslf from any shuck and his wrath arose in proportion as liis misfortune liaa been great. Little Mary came up stairs and said a man was it the front gate to see her papa. Miller Brown went down to the gate with that same glower upon his lirow, and saw one of his neighbors named 'Thompson who had been at the fire. “Hello Thompson, how are ye?” said he. “Pretty well, thank’ee Miller. Here’s a pis tol 1 found in the bushes, and I picked up t his coat and hat that looked like the ones Karl Kate my darling daughter, it will kill me, 1,0 is not fruiltv lvarl would not have done it. 3 from his seat ^ .^’sirength to come back, but it ‘„ hl ® Tnl i is almost time. Where are you, Kate? 1 can not see, it is growing dark. Kate bent over in agony of tears and grief and caught the last whisper. “W hen you see him tell him his mother knew he was innocent and said so to the last, lie was always my S 'Kate could make no answer, and the eyes closed wearily and the breatl. came slowly and feebly. A faint red spot began to burn in the white cheek, but it was tlie red glow b „,T; the death of the day. Kate and the old negro woman stood by doing what they could, but weeping the while. M hus they night; and as the little time piece chimed the hour the mother’s eyes opened and *“ed them selves sadly on the daughter and then closed forever. With scarcely a sigh did the gentle spirit take its flight. It had Unitedl for aTong time trembling on the verge of death, and the first rude hand that touched - had loosed it from mortal ties. ... A The next day a few freendi came and carried her away and laid her under the cold earth m the little village burying ground by witli a deep anguish in ter heart that no tears could relieve, and the old.negro■servant put her withered hands around her and in a choking voice said : a “Never mine, Miss Kate, yo’ ma s better off * Yhe touch of a common grief had drawn the ends of nature together. 9 * * Three weeks after Ephraim Brown, the for mer miller of Kandy Creek, was leaving the home of his childhood. The mortgage on his house and lot had been foreclosed, and 1 is creditor had come to take possession. His wife stood by in silent tears, and little Mary was in bewilderment as to why she was to leave her home and go away. '1 he miller was gruni and solemn, and superintended the mov ing in silence. He had made arrangements for in the village of B , and to tliat A Woman Worshipper. Dear Mother Hubbard,: Conscious of my de fects as a conversationalist I have been con tent to remain silent, listening to the many brilliant and interesting conversations carried on by the other members of the Household. But when Rebecca Thorn mentions woman s suffrage I feel myself full and running over with reasons for being in its favor. I believe that all human beings are created equal, and that justice invests all with-wl’^al rights. Women are a part of the Governn.ein and the more moral part, too. I don t believe that the moral nature of the Government should be suppressed. Women :»re more con servative and discreet, and I believe discr *‘ion te be greater than courage. I believe have been kept in the background long enough. Woman is man’s helpmeet, and should be al lowed to help him in ins greatest undertaking, that of maintaining the integrity of the nation. The women are the in others of our country, and I am in favor of ex ten ling the mother's influence even to the halls of Congress ami to tin* President’s cabinet. Most people confound this question ot VvIo nian’s suffrage with the relative merits of the two sexes. And find iuc (which is unquestion ably true) that women are weaker than men, conclude that they should be subject to man’s will. But this is not a question of merit—it is a simple question of right and wiomr. And when the world knows that justice and expe diency are one and inseparable, that old non sense about what ■women would or would i ot do, if they had the power, will be bushed. What they would do is for them to say at the ballot box . The idea that the strong have more rights than the weak is a relic of barbarity which civilization should discountenance. The strong few have trampled down the rights of the weak many long enough. Women are in the majority in this and. I am Democrat enough to think that the majority ought to rule. W o- inen pay tax to support this Government, and are subject to its laws. Taxation without rep resentation is an old piece of tyranny that these United States pretend to have abolished. And it seems plain to me that women, as well as other people, should have a voice in who shou.d make the laws to which they aTe to be subjected. . Some folks say that but few women would vote if they were allowed the privilege. But I have too much confidence in the integrity and patriotism of the women of America to believe they would neglect their duty if the interest of their country was at stake. Net only that, they would put their votes in on the side of justice and against injustice. “Strengtn to the side of the right’’ should be the mot.o ot ever} American citizen. Women. are always on the rigTit si/le. The idea is current that woman s rights wo men are female impersonations of masculiiiit} . but I am happy to say that in my very limited acquaintance with women of this class i nave found none but the most amiable They are women-who combine the principles of true wo manhood with a very superior cast of nit* fleet. For those noble women who disdained to be bound by the chains of popular opinion, and have the moral courage to proclaim in tfc : face of the world’s ridicule the principles tl Talks with the Minister, the Poet, the Farmer, and Others. Veritas, your sermon on “Self” has done me good—lasting good, and I thank you. It is a priceless key to a curiously wrought cas ket, whose contents I always longed, yet dreaded somewhat, to explore. It is a mirror, too, a beautiful mystic mirror, revealing to my spirits* vision what you youiself are—a faith ful teacher sent by God to make known His holy testimonies, to declare the hideousness of sin and the beau .y of holiness. Dear friend, 1 clasp your hand, I crave your paternal bles sing. I say as did the favored one of old, “It is good for us t* be here,” in our House hold, with Veritas, the embassador of the King of Live. Night Blooming Cirens, your royal claim is worth ni}riads of chiliads more than a “world of one entire and perfect chris- olite.” I am happy to see thee, thou daughter of the great King, in our midst. Vaurien, what a hopeless premiad is your poem entitled “Rest.” World-weary brother, is liie indeed altogether “the thoroughfare of woe” that “Dan Chancer undetiled" has de scribed? Are there no flowers, save only pale asphodels, blooming by i lie wayside to make glad the eye? Is death the only desire of life? Is there no charm in living? Are there no joy j of my sister teachers? bells to break upon the sobbing, surging tem pest in your soul? Oh! is the world, this beau tiful world so dark that you cannot be cheered by even one little star of earthly hope? Vly creed (may I tell you?) is that of Browning’s simple “silk-winding” present, Tippa: there are days when everything persists in go- ing contrary, but after all, housekeeping is not such an incubus as many make out, and to those who have so much trouble with servants forgive me if I say that the fault lies almost «s much with mistress as maid. But there is one thing that I am generally utterly incapa ble of overcoming, and that is the propensity of my brothers for going to sleep of a Sunday evening when I teach them their Sunday ^They'are’very good boys, but certainly in this respect bear no re.ationship to those goody good ones that dwell in the libraries or Sunday-schools. Indeed, I hjweread them those books, hoping they would be impressed by the characters of those lovely boys who never went to sleep at such times, °r wanted for a sister to say, “Come, boys, we will learn our lesson for next week,’ but like millenmm children gathered up thier papers and pon dered over the questions themselves. Perhaps some of my male friends who sym pathize with me, can tell me how their moth ers and older sisters managed in the long ago, yet please do not tell me they kept up a good healthy circulation of the brain by taking Sol omon’s advice and spared not the rod, for I would not believe you, for it would look as much out of place as a missionary with aBible in one hand and a shotgun in another, com pelling the heathens to believe. Tis strange, though, that before 1 halfway finish the les son, how two forms can slip so low in their chairs and four feet point so perpendicular to the fire, while two heads nod so coniplaicently on their pedestals, |for on other nights these same parts are never known to be ready for the land of “Nod,” no matter how late it is. Like Chat, Euterpe, your kindly face was like a ray of sunshine from the mellow days ofyore ' Clio. Montgomery, Ala. “Teaching the Young Idea How to Shoot.” Dear Mother Hubbard: We should befriends, that is if similarity of costumes could form a band of sympathy, for I dearly love to lounge before a good fire in an ample “Mother Hub bard” these long winter evenings and read- novels most frequently but occasionally some thing more solid. “It goes without saying” that the dear “Sunny” is always a welcome visitor. I’m a poor lonely school teacher up in the Virginia mountains and always thought, before I tried it, that nothing could be more grand and sublime than “teach ng the young idea how to shoot.” I now think it. better in theory than practice. Is it not '.he case with some “God’s in his heaven,— All’s right with the world.” In Mexic soil there grows a modest, sun- scorched, foot-crushed, but never dying plant which is happily called Sempre Viva. Search thou for its emblem in thine own heart, friend Vaurien, and be content. Why lie in the Slough of Despond? Why sigh for the ghostly perfume of asphodels? Have you a right to crave the rest you speak of, while it is yet day? Can you not patiently wait, oh child of earth, until the sun goes calmly down upon your workday? You are “tired of striving with sin,” you say. Well, after the striving comes the winning and the wearing of the victor’s i crown,—remember that, and take comfort, weary heart. You tire “of trying tojjegood,” but why shoul 1 you, When the very effort is good accomplished? You are “misunder stood;” what does that matter, so your aim be right? Did the world always understand the best and wisest of its denizens—its martyred sail ts, its uncrowned poets, its unheeded vales? But were they any the less good and wise for being understood! Had they not their own exceeding great reward in the con sciousness of well doing! It is a crief to you that you are considered “heartless and proud:” then can you not by your gentleness and love liness of heart toward those “false, cold ani unkind” friends prove this untrue? You are tired of every • Iflug—of “pomp and show,” of “misery” and “woe,” of “pelf, honesty and stealth,” and, it seems, immeasurably more than all “Oh God! so tired of self.” Ah! there you strike the key-note of every | despairing cry “Of Sell.” l*oe*e seijl js’cLTV^d over the same wild, sadi note, prised to ln arbe Won’t some kind Householder sympathize aL d perhaps correspond with School Makm? Fojly Mills, Va. among the What Books to Read. [Golden Rule, Boston.] The question is constantly being asked: What books shall I buy? People who have but little to spend upon books, desire to make the best investments possible. We give below a list of one hundred volumes, which was made up by Sir Jolin Lubbock, of England, and which has received the hearty endorse ment of Mr. Gladstone and many other prom inent literary men. Our only criticism upon it is, that it ignores all American authors. We will try to give a list of some good American books in a future issue. 1. The Bible. 2. Marcus Aurelius, “Meditations.” 3. Epictutus. 4. Confucius, “Analects.” 5. “Le Bouddha et sa Religion,” (St. IIil- laire.) <5. Aristotle. “Ethics.” 7. Mahumet, “Koran.” 8. “Apostolic Fathers,” Wake’s Collec tion. 0. St. Augustine, “Confessions. 10. Thomas a Kemp is “Imitation.” 11. Pascal, Tensees.” 12. Spinoza, “Tractatus Theologico-Politi- cus.” . . , „ 13. Comte, “Cat. of Positive Philosophy (C ragreve.) 14. Butler, “Analogy.” 15. Jeieyg" Taylor, “Holy living and Holy I am sorry to announce the fact that the matter for this column intended for our Christ mas issue (which was never issued) and con taining the ad’s of Renco, Albany, I Am With You, Kildee, Ewell, Lone Jack, Lone Star, Will and Harry, has been misplaced. The above named would therefore, confer a favor upon us by sending at once, duplicate adver tisements as we have their fees credited against them. We are constantly receiving inquiries about letters that have passed through our hands and as ’twould be impossible for us to remember either the destination or writers of the hun dreds that we daily forward, I beg that our advertisers will at least try lo acknowledge the receipt of letters, thereby showing that we have done our duty. Some, I know, are too overcome after reading a hundred or more re plies to write at all. Such have my sympathy, and for one of them, poor Howard, I must put in a plea. He is in great distress for fear all those aweet girls who wrote him will call him a fraud and humbug, and begs to wish them ail a Happy and successful New Year. Of course, “there are as good fish in the sea, &c.,” so don’t be hard on him but just bait another hook and maybe you’ll catch a whale. Naturally the advertisers have the pick of the market as they have many replies from which to choose. We have forwarded several fine looking photographs, Christmas and New Year greet ings during the holidays. Of the latter Madge Melvale has received her quota and return’s thanks for the same. I notice that a few of the young gentlemen speak of their ability to support a mus tache as though supporting a wife were a secondary consideration. Will suggest tliat the latter would be a better recommendation. Dont fail to put in blank stamped envelopes with your letters to be forwarded. There is no necessity for writing nom de plumes ou the envelopes and we can not re-address such. Be sure to send the fee with your advertisement. It is only ten cents per line, eight words counted a line. Address communications for this column to Madge Melvale, Sunny South Office. A Texan, age thirty, six feet one inch; has black hair, brown eyes, weighs 170. Am in the mercantile business, with bright prospects. Would be glad to correspond with a young lady, or a young widow with means, with a view to matrimony. Don’t drink, chew to bacco or smoke. Lone Star. I am a widow thirty years old, and would like a cultivated gentleman correspondent. Don’t care for him to be matrimonially in clined, as my object is a congenial spirit with whom to exchange ideas. Address, care Sun ny South, Nona. I would like to hear from some young lady, between fourteen and twenty, on the matri monial question. Garry Owen. Beatrice Infelice wants several correspond ents who are nice. Merchant ents and wh J. wants a few lady correspond- * knows. Wanted—young lady correspondents between ; A y duscriIh-o a iigilt in the direction of the T a ji(i hastened with all speed to know its ■j r.ng. As he ran across the lields he awoke con arm hands from several houses, and by o' e time they reached the place they number- ¥ A ten or more. The lire was fast fretting un- 4cr way as they came upon the ground. ,-<n. “For God’s sake, somebody run to old man t Brown’s and wake him up. TeM him to come n tie! t once with all the buckets and the tubs he out 1 (. an get.” cried one of the comer*, he 2 Two men ran off at full speed in the direc ire *.ion of the miller’s house. The others gathered »b ,about the building trying to do what was pos sible to save its contents. Several m .re per sons arrived by this time and each one took bis place. Three buckets were found under the porch where the lire bad not yet reached, ■ Snd the ten or <i teen men formed a line from the branch and handed buckets full of water , B p to the strongest one of the.party who threw it into the burning building. Jt was growing inten rely hot and the men had to dash water on each other and shield themselves from the ~”heat by holding their hats over their faces. The building was burning inside but the flames hail not come out as yet, and through the eracks and shutters they could be seen seeth ing ani boiling. One man ran up with an axe and ba tered away at the door. “Don’t break down that door. Itwillletin the air,” cried the others, but too late for at that iiislant It gave way and a volume of smoke burst out mixed with flame and hot air, driving the workmen hack irom the front. The frame 4,f the mill was old and dry. Built originally of heart pine, the wood was like tinder and cauL'ht with fierce rapidity. The flames ran up along the roof, and licked out fr >in between the cracks like liery serpents with forked tongues. The sides of the mill — ., re w so hot that men working at the buckets Sould not Stand near enough to throw the wa- t»r and they abandoned work and stood by at some safe distance, watching the work or des truction. The hot currents of air swept up- w.irds carrying the sparks toward the sky and the clouds -eft back a red reflection of the scene 'The whole country for several miles around was lit up by the brightness of the glare and lire dull roaring sound of tire burn ing timbers was heard a long w ay off. Soon Miller Brown was seen tearing down the hill leading from his house, without hat or .-til . his foe. indicative of the greatest ag- - k K'lire oil he yelled at lire top of bis voice and was crying long and loud: ‘‘Oh, God! Oh, God! What does this mean? What villia.ii has done this? My mill, my mili- joclm, toy corn and wheat, burning up. Oh, everybody come and belli me save something.” JJy this time he liad reached the mill out of breath. Frantic with excitement and tire debths of anguish depicted on his face, ire started to rush into the building and into tire flames, which he would have done had not strong hands seized him aud forced him back upon the ground. . ^•uMTcat? would ye bum ycself up in tliat fashion? Have ye lost yer senses? Look man, bow hot that tire is, and ye toeing to run into it Ye would be burnt to a inder in a minute like a rat in a store,” cried Mr. Simpkius who hjd just arrived upon tire scene and was gthl turning over in his mind the adven ture at the spring of a few hours previous. Mr. Brown cowered upon the ground in a broken, bewildered agonized way. He gazed upon the fire with wide open eyes, but with a flbep despair of unutterable and irrevocable ruin upon his face. Suddenly lie rose from the ground with an other cry: “My money! my money! I have hid money in the mill. Silver and gold money to pay off Sat mortgage with. You Bill, my son Bill, rnn in and save it. You were the cause of it S now help me. Anybody—fifty dollars for the man who will save my money.” The crowd gazed upon him with astonish ment and incredulity. Mr. Simpkins laid his hand on his shoulders to restrain him, but n *th an effort he broke loose and rushed wild- ^forward. He would have thrown himself < *o tbe flames, but at that moment a loud {“"iking sound was heard and with a mighty the mill rocks tore loose from the burnt and ground their way to the water below. Into this they fell with a splash A hot from the flames whijh had enveloped thev m ade the water boil and hiss and *k®j? nD /volume of steam. The falling of the ir® was too much for the building. It shook *°^irncked and the half burnt roof gave way 2 frilio upon th* below. As it atruck don’t..” lie spoke a few more words to his neighbor and, turning on his heel, walked in the house and sat down. lie looked at the pistol and then at the coat and hat and saw that both belonged to Karl. He tlnught long and as he thought his face grew darker and his eye more threatening. Ilis lip was set under his lower teeth when Mrs. Brown entered and said that his breakfast was ready. Turning toward her he broke out fiercely. “I’ll tell ye, Mary, that boy that you have been afondling has done this business. He has stole my money, set my mill on fire and run off. Everything points that way and sure as you’re alive if I ever set my eyes on him I’ll break every bone in his body. 111 send him to the penitentiary. I’m a ruiued man, I am, and he has done it, the wretch, and now just let me caoch him if he dares.” As he said this he came down on the table with his fist with a loud noise and set his hard face and harder eye with such a dangerous look that made Mrs. Brown shiver with fright and effectually cut short the excuses that her gentle nature would frame for the poor boy. Two days after the scenes recorded above, in the litUe village of B , in a two-room cottage on the top of a bill, a poor invalid wo man lay upon a bed in an uneasy sleep. Her cheeks were hollow and had bright red spots in each, her eyes were sunken, and her long, thin, pile bauds and frequent coughs, told of the terrible ravages of consumption. A thoughtful girl, about fifteen years old, sat by her side with anxious face and tears in her blue eyes whenever she glanced toward the bed. The woman was the mother of Karl Bierman and the girl was his sister Kate. ]? was twilight and all was still except the old negro woman who moved quietly about get ting the bread and milk that constituted the family supper. A hard step was heard coming up the walk, and soon it struck the door step. A loud knock upon the door, startling the mother from her dreams of Karl and alarming the sis ter. and in strode Miller Brown. Kate rose to meet him, smiled and gave him a chair. This he took but gave back no smile in return, but rather frowned fiercely. Mrs. Bierman opened her eyes and smiled sadly v/lien she saw who was her visitor. “Oh, Mr. Brown,” she began, “I am so glad to see you.” Here she stopped to cough and breathe, during which the miller said nothing. In n moment she continued, “And what has become of Karl? He did not come home yesterday and 1 was looking for him. He promised to come and bring me medicine and some money. Karl is a dear good boy, and if l did not have him 1 don’t know what would be mine of Kate and me. He is our sole support and does all he can for us. You must tike good care of him, Mr. Brown, for he talks about you and tries to do his duty.” All this was said without gi rin^ the miller time to say a word. Finally he broke silence. “You say Karl didn’t come home yesterday at all? Ain’t he been about here in the last thirty-six hourc?” “Why, no,” said Mrs. Bierman, becoming quickly alarmed at his strange manner. “Why shouldn’t he come home? Are you here to look for him? Has anything hap pened?” Kate stepped hastily up to her mother, took her hand, put her face down to kiss her fore head and then looked appealingly toward the miller. But his heart was turned to stone, and heedless of the illness of the poor woman, began at once to the point of his visit. “You say he ain’t been home at all? That’s strange, for I thought that he’d certainly come this way to leave some of the money that he stole from me, before he ran away.” This in a sneering, doubting tone. “For the sake of heaven, what do you say?” cried Kate, thunder-stricken. “Beware how you speak to my mother abont my brother. What is it you accuse|him of?” Mrs. Bierman gasped for breath and sank back pale with excitement. The miller told his story slowly, doggedly. “Yes, he stole about one thousand dollars in gold and silver and that was night before last. 1 had it in the mill to pay off the mortgage on my house, which is due next month, and I had been saving it for five years, but now he’s got it and gone. Besides that he set the mill on fire and it has burned to the ground. You see Mrs. Bierman, your son did it I’m just sure, his set teeth: “If 1 could know where .he villain is who has done this ruin for me.” How soon he was to know we w ill see in wdiat follows. [to be continued.] OLD SOUTHEEJYISMS. Quaint Sayings in South Carolina. Some years ago Richard Grant White wrote a delightfully interesting book on American isms. lie might well have divided the subject into two parts—Yankee isms and Southern isms. Absolute correctness in pronunciation or in the formation of sentences is a most difficult accomplishment, and few there be, either North or South, who have reached such a de gree of perfection that no exceptions can be taken by “carping critics” to their utterances. In the matter of pronunciation the times are changing, and one can scarcely keep pace with the innovations being introduced by the lead ing orthoepists. The purpose of this paper is, however, to present, in a succinct w*ay, a few of the quaint nesses of pronunciation and construction held to by the Southern people .as a class. Among these the first that comes to mind is the custom of omitting the last two letters of such words as “more,” x ’store,” “four,”— which are pronounced “mo,’’ “sto,” and “fo.” “What o’clock is it?” you ask the Carolin ian, and ten to one he tells you it is “half pas’ fo’,” if that happens to be tbe hour. Another common Southeri ism is the use of “like as if,” or “iike” for the words “as if.” “She looked like she knew me,” is a coin- mou expression, or, “she looked like as if she’d die.” This is very common in Washing ton, and in all the States South of Mason aiul Dixon’s line. Tbe word “funny” is frequently used instead of strange, and sometimes with startling effect. A young Southern girl was visiting us once, and a caller was telling of the death of her mo ther-through swallowing a fish bone. “Oh! wasn’t it funny?” exclaimed our vis itor at the close of the narrative. “I think you mean strange,” said the caller, as soon as she recovered from the astonish ment. Our girl friend has never used the woiid “funny” since. If you happen to hear anybody eay “rye cheer” you may know it is intended to mean “right here.” For instance: A South Carolinian will say, “Where was he at last night'?” and his fellow-citizen will say. “He staid rye cheer with me.” Djear—pronounced in one syllable—is not a Russian word, as might be supposed; it means “Do you hear?” and is usually addressed to servants in this form: You, Jim! Bring in tliat wood, djear?” “To get to go,” is essentially a Georgia ex pression. They say: “Do don’t fail to come to-night,” and the reply is: “I’ve tried to get to go three weeks now, so I reckon I’ll be there t’night.” The expression, “Do don’t” is heard in Georgia and South Carolina, but rarely else where. One of the most laughable things you ever heard is the peculiar pronunciation of the word “about.” It is said enthusiastically: “I am glad Schwindlemever vash an honest man. Der isli too mooch competitions already in dot bankrupt pishness.” without a woman in it. Sweetwater, Tex. How He Escaped. [Omaha World.] Doctor—“What is that scar on your leg, Mr. Blank?” Patient—“A dog bite received in childhood.” D—“Goodness gracious, didn’t you get the hydrophobia?” p—“No, I hadn’t heard of hydrophobia at that time.” How to Make Money. No matter in what part you are located, you should write to Hallet & Co., Portland, Maine, and receive, free, information about work you can do and live at home, at a profit of from $5 to $25 and upwards daily. Some have made over $50 in a day. All is new. Capital not needed: Hallett & Co. will start yen. Either sex; all ages. Those who commence at once will maze sure of snug little fortunes. Write and see for yourselves. Old Santa Claus Bankrupt! Dear Mother Hubbard: “The Spirit moves me” to write;—but what? All is gloomy with out, and very little brighter within, and such a combination of “uncheerful” circumstances can scarcely have any other effect than the production of a dull letter. Nevertheless, when the “Spirit moves,” I must write, even if the result of my labor has to be immediately consigned to the flames. But oh! dear me, what a depressing day! The very “gobble gobble” of the Christmas turkeys, is so irritat ing in its montony, that it inspires one with murderous desires, and 1 would fain have their necks rung, their feathers plucked, and their cooked carcasses brought to the table ! Poor things 5 I wonder if they are not aware of the cruel fate that awaits them, when everything eise is supposed to be happy ami tender, anil kind during the welcome Christmas season ! < )nly the poor turkey is to be excluded from participating in the exercise of those amiable qualities! (No!—I beg pardon! He t.*s ex pected to be twider.) I wonder what Santa Claus will do for us this year ? < )ur papas and husbands and brothers are preparing us, and have been for weeks past for a bankrupt Kris Kringle, poor as a church mouse, and bowed w ith finan cial trouble. A bankrupt Santa! I wonder what the poor dear old fellow will look iike? Has he had to sell off “Dunder and Blitzen,” and “Dandy and Vixen,” I wonder, to pay some of his more,pressing creditors? And is his huge old pipe gone out. for want of money, with which to fill the bowl with fragrant to bacco 1 Would it not be sad to see that cheer ful, blooming nose pale for lack of some generous stimulant with which, in the good old times now pafct, he has been accustomed to refresh his soul And that dead, jolly, round “little belly, shakes it no more “lik; a bowl full of jelly ?” I must stop! I arc worse than the weather! I will not think of him—tbe dear old fellow!—otherwise than the same, heavily-laden, rich, round, rosy, jolly old Santa that has cheered us for ages with his generous annual visits. His nose shall be red. The blue and white smoke shall curl as gracefully as of oM, from his time- blackened pipe; and if that queer little char iot of his isn’t drawn by hiu full compliment | of reindeer, I shall tlie heart-broken! Yes! dear old friend, the holly leaves are as green .and the berries as red, and I hope our hearts are as warm as ever; so your welcome will be ac warm as in the “aukl lang-syne,” your pipe will never be cold, and your dear old heart shgll never know the grief of parting from either “Dunder” or “Blitzen!” These wicked fathers and husbands and brothers! Why do they try to frighten us so? Come, sisters, old and young, big and little, let’s make this Christmas brighter and happier aixl merrier than ever before, thus “heaping coals of fire” on theiLeads of our grumbling “Lords of Cre ation.” Nay, my dear Lords! don’t look at me with such lowering, scowling brows! I do not mean to fling a fire-brand into your homes. listen! I do not advise your wives and daughters and sisters to spend more money this Christmas, to give and ask for more extravagant presents than “ever be fore,” but only by a more contented state of mind, a more cheerful, ^>rbearing and loving spirit, make Christmas what it should be—a happy, joyful welcome to the King of Kings! Leah Leon. Florida. were less wise and more utterly wretched than you, in that they raised their tear-laded wings Marquis. no higher than earth. Oh! blessed is Sandal phon in changing “prayers into flowers to per fume the streets of the City Immortal.” But pardon me, Vaurien, I did not mean to detain you, only your “Rest” interested me, and I think—There now! Vaurien is wrapping his beautiful mantle of poetic fancy closely about him, and he actually ignores my presence. How stupid of me to forget that a man, es pecially a poet, cannot always lend his ears to every one that babbles and gabbles. Well, I’ve only been talking to myself, as usual. Sister, from Jackson, Tennessee, (I am sorry but your nom escapes me beyond recall,) 1 liked your letter immensely; please let us have a chat soon about our mutual friend at the Capitol. Do you know the editor of T. B., of your town? Parvenue and Johnny T., your flattering words will really make me conceited. Now don’t understand me to say that I am displeas ed thereat, for I am only a woman. A g ad welcome, Farmer. One who is my nearest of kin is a gentleman of your vocation, and I honor it with my whole heart. The farmer is the kingliest man on earth—if he be mortgageless, or as we say in Texas, deed-of- trust-less; he looks up to no one, for no one is higher :han lie, an 1 ail independent sovereign cannot cringe. The politician may barter conscience for a vote and an office, the editor may give a bill of sale of the same for fame or a long subscription list, and the physician may likewise tr tfiic for an experimental oppor tunity; the lawyer may slay conscience out right for a paltry fee, and the judge may bury it in a verdict, but the farmer is able to pre serve his conscience alive and pure, because he is free and has nothing to gain or to ask for. Don’t I like the learned professions, you ask? Why, bless you, yes. i have kindred and friends in them all, and I love and am lY . proud of their honest fame. *1 said, or meant j to say, that professionals may be conscience less—not that they are, mark you. I have a declare “uch dreadful fancies | ZnnXtn™ 8 ° me f I future nappy day, Southern farmers will be ‘ to Dixe what the chieftains of “Clan Ronald the dauntless, clan Moray the proud,” and others of their ilk and generation, were to Scotland in the days of Bruce and Wallace. Do you not note even now what a great politi cal power they wield in our land? Whose in fluence polls the most votes on election days in the South? Where is our gracious .Queen—our dear, comfortable, altogether delightful, Mother Hubbard? I came too late to be present on coronation day, but won’t somebody lead me to her gentle majesty so that she may see in my face how loyally I adore her already? Viva. Marshall, Texas. epublif 20. DeinostheLes, “De Cor 21. Lucretius. 22. Plutarch. 23. Horace. 24. Cicero, “De Ofliciis,” ‘l)e Senectute.” ‘De Amicitia,” “The Dewy Eve.” [From James E Wray’s poem “Lost tor a Woman.”] ’Tie moonlight o’er Ogeecbee’s tide, The night-bird warbles in the grove, The waters with low marmors glide. God makes such nights alone for love! How softly falls the quiet I As petals from a wind wav< Along the shores of Ble t boor! more beloved then day. Softer the mock-bird’s roundelay; And neath the hawthorns s leafy boaghs. Fond lovers breathe their sweetest vows. OLove! this hoar resigned to thee, Is worth Fame’s in mortality! Nature arrayed in gorgeous hoes. Tone’s poet’s lyre, invokes the mnes. And stave look down with dreamy eyes, i with earth is bssnty mss! Wmorj CoBafS, Oxford, G*. School and Life Lesssons. Dear Mother Hubbard: How well do I re member when I was a small child of attending school for the first time, where my mind was taught to revel in the delightful pastures of the old primer in which lady and horseback, were indiscriminately mingled, Well do I recollect Aha many ups, and downs’ those words, and the numerous successors caused me. Many were the timas that Clio with her book^pressed close to herweep- ing eyes and flushed cheeks mounted a stool which we called the stool of | repentance there to stand until the weary words were learned. Yes, years have passed since then each leaf of time has brought with it some lesson of life to learn, and many times siuce I put away childish things have I again in fancy mounted that little stool, grieved over harder lessons of learning to be patient than ever I found in the old blue speller. Even now I fear few of its letters have impulsive Clio learned. Some times she thinks she can spell them, and with happy heart slips off her mounted position; but alas! ho, plainly a moment more she sees the les son still unlearned but with comforting thoughts she knows the Great Teacher is tenderly pitty- ing his lagging scholar. Some of you may think I am not practicU that lam one of those dreamy members, whose duties be in the air castles they build. I think though your opinions would change, could you see me m the early morning giving out break fasts and later on sweeping and dusting, for 1 am housekeeper at home now, and that means tour mind, ae weU ae bogy Angers. Of 25. Ilomer, “Iliad” and “Odyssey.” 20. Hesiod. 27. Virgil. 28. Niebelungenlied. 29. Malory, “Morte d’Arthur.” .‘>0. “Maha Bliarata,” “Ramayana.” Epito mized by Talboys Wheeler in the first two volumes of his “History of India,” 31. Firdusi, “Shahnameh.” 32. “Sheking,” Chinese Odes.) 33. JEschylus, “Prometheus,” “House of Atreus,” Trilogy or “Persas.” 34. Sophocles, “CEdipus” Trilogy. 35. Euripides, “Medea.” 30. Aristophanes, “The Knights.” 37. Herodotus. 38. Xenophon, “-Anabasis.” 39. Thucydides. 40 Tacitus, “Germania.” 41. Livy. 42. Gibbon, “Decline and Fall.” 43. Hume, “England.” 44. Grote, “Greece.” 45. Carlyle, “French Revolution.” 40. Green, “Short History of England.” 47. Baion, “Novum Organum.” 48. Mill, “Logic.” 49. “ “Political Economy.” 50. Darwin. ‘Origin of Species.” 51. Smith, “Wealth of Nations” (part of.) 52. Berkeley, “Human Knowledge.” 53. Descartes, “Discouis sur in Methode.” 54. Locke, “Conduct of the Understanding.” 55. Lewes, “History of Philosophy.” 50. Cook, “Voyages.” 57. Humboldt, “Travels.” 58. Darwin, “Naturalist on the Beagle.” 59. Shakspeare. 00. Milton, “Paradise Lost” and the shorter p )ems. 01. Dante, “Divine Commedia.” 02. Spenser, “Faerie Queen.” 03. Dry den’s Poems. 04. Chaucer, “Morris’s (or, if expurgated, Clark’s or Mrs. Haweis’s)” edition. 05. Gray. 60. Burns. 07. Scott's Poems. 08. Wordsworth, Mr. Arnold's selection. 09. Heine. 70. Pope. 71. Southey. 72. Goldsmith, “Vicar of Wakefield.” 73. Swift, “Gulliver's Travels.” 7-1. Defoe, “Robinson Crusoe.” 75. “The Arabian Nights.” 70. Cervantes. “Don Quixote.” 77. Boswell, “Johnson.” 78. Burke, Select Works (Payne.) ESSAYISTS : 79. Bacon. 80. Addison. 81. Hume. 82. Montaigne. 83. Macaulay. 84. Emerson. 85. Moliere. 80. Sheridan. 87. Voltaire, “Zadig.” 88. Carlyle, “Past and Present.” t Goethe, -Faust,'* and “Wilhelm Meis- White, -Natural History of Selbourne. 91. Smiles. “Self-Hate >' Well, here comes another blonde maiden “all forlorn,” fond of everything except house work, cooking, music, pets, fancy work, art, dress, French, and—and—widowers. If any of you “lords of creation” want to know whether or not I like anything better than buckwheat cakes you can tind out by ad dressing care Si xxv South. Myrtle Greek. I am 20 years of age and wish to correspond with a lady of 20. X Y Z. A gentleman of high social position, strictly temperate, 40 years of age, blue eyes, dark brown hair, full beard, .3 feet 10 inches tall, weighs 1:45 to 140 pounds, good Health perfect ly sound, without blemish either in face or fig ure, large business experience, and moderate means. Wishes to correspond witli a lady of culture between the ages of 22 and 35. Pre fers a gentle sweet tempered, brown eyed, lady who could make a home what it should be—a heaven on earth. Will Carletox. ELEGANT OIL PICTURES. For Two Now Subscribers We will Send any Picture in the Fol lowing List. 91. Smiles, “Self-Help." 92. Miss Austen, either “Emma” or “Pride and Prejudice." 93. Thackeray, “Vanity Fair.” in. “ “Pondennis.” 95. Dickens, “Pickwick." “ David Conperfield.” 97. George Eliot, “Adam Bede." 98. Kingsley, “Westward Ho!’’ 99. Bulwer Lytton, “Last Days of Pom- peu." Horseford’s Acid Phosphate. Clvee Satisfactory Results. Dr. O. W. Weeks, Marion, O., says: “Its use is followed by remits satisfactory both to patient and phyadeiaa.” MOOSEIIEAlJ LAKE.—ton the bank of the lake a group of deer are watching an Indian canoe coming towards them. Tire trees are decked in uutumn’shrightest beauty,with moun tains in the background. Size 15x21. IN' THE COUNTRY.—A lovely cottage fa ces the greenest of malls dotted with trees. A steamboat lias rounded to at a distant landing. Down a pretty road dashes two pretty gaydapl pled gray horses that draw a happy couple. Size 10x21. FLORA’S OFFERING.—A beautiful flower picture, black ground, conceded to be the most perfect chrouio ever yet produced. Size 10x20. THE EASTER CROSS.—A large cross, em bellished with flowers, and with the motto “The Lord is Risen.” A companion to “Flora’s Offering.” Black back ground. Size 10x20. SARATOGA SPRINGS.—A fine ebromo of this favorite watering-place. Tire groups of pleasure seekers, tlie springs, trees, walks, etc., with tire beautiful coloring forms one of tbe most delightful chromos in our collection. Size 15x21. CENTRAL PARK.—New York’s beautiful wonder is produced to perfection in our chro- mo. Tire drives, the promenades, the terrace and a hundred other beauties of the Park are rich fac similes of the original. Size 15x21. WASHINGTON AT TRENTON.—The bat tle picture for the times. Washington on his war horse is the spirit of the battle which rages around him. The face is Washington’s, true to life, and the struggling armies are seen engaged in the terrible conflict. Size 15x18. WINTER SUNDAY IN OLDEN TIMES.— This picture recalls the good old Sabbaths of long ago. We have the antique church, cover ed with snow, and the good folk coming to worship. Near by is the parsonage and school- house, and in the background a range of snowy hills. Size 16x21. * LIFE’S DREAM.—A picture illustrating the dream of life. A boat-load of people ap proach an aged couple seated beneath a grand old tree, the young mother holds up her babe who claps its little hands at sight of the vener able pair. At the extreme right two ladies and their escort are angling. Size 15x22. THE CROWN OF LIFE.—The Crown of Life rests upon the Holy Bible, and is resplen dent with wreaths of fairest flowers. The Ctom its inseparable, is not missing, snd helps to make up a picture which will delight all who “it Rise 14x17.
