Georgia Historic Newspapers

    THE SUNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GA, SATURDAY HORNING, MARCH 5, 1887,
3
THE CROSS AND RING.
BY MRS. E. WARREN ERDELMYER.
THE MARAUDERS.
Continued from second page.
CHAPTER XXV.
More than two years had passed since the
parting of Estelle and Bert.
Springtide, with its seductive glimmers, cast
the spell of a fair dream over a tired city pop
ulace onthiscilm April evening. The sun’s
las. gilding rays still rested on the house-tops
when the lamp lighter began his evening work.
The numerous lights sprung up as by magic
like so many glow-worms, dim and twink.ing
Jike the stars above struggling through the
eventide; and spreading, as twilight deepened
icto night, as glow-worms dame out in utter
darkness. And all were as clusters of dia
monds glistening in priceless necklaces.
Suddenly a new illumination flashed forth.
A stone building, a vast hall, by an instanta
neous touch was flooded with electric lights.
Ani a stream of people began to flow in
through the wide open doors.
“What is going on in the hali?” asked one.
“The beautiful improvisatrice. You must
have heard of her wonierful story telling.’’
“I may have heard something about her.
What i i the object of it? Of course her stories
point a moral. Since it is free to all it cannot
be a catch-pennv affair.”
' fn the cause of temperance—a work toward
reform The great work inaugurated by the
band of brave women is growing in magni-
tude.” . , , .
“This is an original idea of one of the fair
workers. A new way of presenting the sub
ject. It has met with singular success, is ef
fective and very popular. Bu*- it requires rare
mental gifts, genius, spontaneity. 1 he woman
who has initiated it is fully equal to,it. She is
beautiful and possesses maen.tism. ’
“You are enthusiastic. If all the men who
see and hear her fall in love with her as you
have, it may cause them to lift the cup to their
lips oftener to drown a hopelest passion, and
in the end she will do the cause harm.’
“For love of her pledges will be taken—in
disappointment broken; the outgrowth of two
evils instead of one.”
“When you have seen her and heard her
speak you will think differently. I in love with
her in that sense? Absurd! She is divine I
a weak mortal, and only one of the million to
whom her mission brings her. The feeling she
inspires is not of the passionate. She lilts one
above the level of a common life; makes him
see the beautiful side of human nature; makes
him look inward to engage in a subjective in
terview, so to speak; talk to himself about him
self in relation to the good and the evil, makes
him wish to be a better man, purer, stronger.”
' * Egad ! You are an enthusiast. W ho would
have thought it? I)o tell me more about her!
What style of speaking has she adopted?”
“Her very own—story telling, as I told you.
Something akiu to the minstrelsy of the fif
teenth century. Tne aee of chivalry and love ’
“And of drinking, too, eh?” laughing.
“Perhaps; but not like the whiskey, rum,
gin, etc., of this country. You ask me to tell
vou ab >ut her stymie. Come in and hear her.
fshe is simply indescribable, she and her sto
ries.”
They ascended the broad stone steps.
A man who bad listened to that conversa
tion, a stranger, followed them into the hall.
!Ie was tall, graceful and slight in form, but
slightly stooped as though from debility. His
face was pale, his steps tremulous, bis eyes in
expressibly sad.
The patience of the audience, which had now
swelled to an overflowing house, was not long
taxed.
From behind the large screen, on one side of
the platform, the fair story teller appeared.
Her very presence was an inspiration. A
calm, lovely creature—a rare, spiritually beau
tiful woman whose mission was to bring good
into the world.
Her dress was of a subdued silvery moon
light; her pearls seemed a part of her—individ-
-talized; her whole appearance, from the white
flower of snowy fleecii.ess nestling in her dark
hair and on her bosom to the drapery floating
about her as a cloud. There was an individu
ality idealized; a something spirit-like, yet
wholly a woman—womanly.
The white blaze radiating from the electric
lights was as a soft mountain cloud, moonlit,
wrapping around her to lend the charm of
mystery. Yet in tnat illuminated cloui tha
outline of figure, face and diaphanous drapery
were as a clear cut figure, bright as the even
ing star shining in the midst of a misty vapor.
She leaned one arm on a tall stand, her pale,
rapt face riveted on the audienence.
Her eyes closed a moment as if to shut out
all sight save the mental picture which her
brain was painting with the lightning rapidity
of concentrated thought.
Then her lids were raised slowly, and her
large, brown, penetrating eyes, newly illum
ined. swept the audience with one comprehen
sive glance, and she began her sto:y.
It was after the style of an idyl.
The wondrously pathetic sweetness, the in
definable appeal, the mysterious soothingness
in a sympathy with the weak as the strong, in
that voice was indescribable.
As she continued her eyes, full of a quiet
tire, of inreined enthusiasm, lent a subtle
charm to the insinuating eloquence of words
which ft 11 from her lips as gems of thought,
touching the vast crowd with one common
wand of mesmerism.
(>ne face in that hall she had discovered on
first looking around; and that face to-night was
h»r audience. All outside of it was lost to her
in the wave of pity, tenderness,—ay, of love
that swept over her as a new inspiration—a
face for which her heirt bad hungered as only
the weary, broken hearted can hunger for lost
joys, though res dute to forbid the yearning.
In that one swift, searching look she saw a
broken pledge; and her special, unspeakable
mission in this night’s work was kuown only
to her own heart and her God.
In her gift of magnetism she hell the audi
ence in a hushed, breathless lis ening with a
singular awakening to the call of duty, to
touch which sense she had reached out her
magic wand.
Who could repeat that story ?
An expert stenographer might have put it
down in cold written words. But who could
take the impression of her being, of tbat voice
in impassioned, flawless speech. We have
all heard the music of the sea, but has a pen
ever described it ?
Her words sunk deep into the hearts of
of many of her hearers.
There wa- a bewitching sense of novelty in
the story which was strongly affective.
And last, as moved by an unseen master
spirit, she obeyed its mandate and her voici
burst forth in song. Organ notes caught it
| sage had reached him; and her heart was lift
ed in thanksgiving.
He arose and followed her silently.
The lagging ones throughout the empty hall
had seen a quiet meeting of friends—nothing
more.
What these two had been to each other and
of their subdued emotions these outside gazers
never dreamed.
Acpepting her invitation he took a seat in
her carriage. He was still speechless with
emotion.
The drive continued in silence save the few
commonplace remarks from the aged couple
accompanying them.
At the hotel the old gentleman and his wife
bade her good-night, and retired; while she,
motioning to Bert to follow, led the way to her
own pr vate parlor.
The gas burned brightly; the windows were
open and on the sill were blooming plants and
rich colored flowers growing in vases.
The night air was raw, and a fire was kin -
died in the grate.
She saw how white and cold he was; saw
the stooped shoulders and hollow cheeks, and
the changes in that handsome face smote her
heart with unutterably tender compassion.
She rolled an easy chair in front of the fire
and bade him seat himself in it.
She stood before him with her folded arms
held in a close pressure over her throbbing
heart.
Not once had he raised his eyes: they were
cast down in a painful humilation, and were
fixed on the flickering flames in the grate.
“Bert—look at me!”
He obeyed still wiihout a word. A wave of
hot Olood dyed his pale face, as she held his
eyes for an instant.
“You have broken your pledge!"
“Yes,’’and hiseyes sunk beneath the mourn
ful reproach in hers.
In pity she moved behind him; and leaning
her arms on the back of his chair she asked in
a gentler tone:
“When?”
“A year ago.”
“Not before?”
rtp, accompanying it, adding chords of s veet-
est sympathy. It was not a hymn—that is an
accepted and familiar church organ—but a
soulful song thrilling with prayer and praise.
A poem song, an idyl, even as the story had
been.
The vivid word pictures still dwelt in the
the minds of the hearers. The strains of mu
sic rolling in grand anthems of praise through
out the edifice and out beyond the endless , ,
space was as a spirit scene-and dreams the
sweetest visited the poetic minds there.
“You had been true to it so long, and knew
it’s measureless value; why, then did you be
tray your better self ?”
“To break a promise, even a promise to
one’s self is inexcusable; but the faint excuse
I have I do wish you to know. My lift was
broken, ruined! At first I tried, with all the
fortitude which by God’s gift my nature held,
to live in the work I had chosen. For more
than a year i bent all my energy of mind and
body toward that work—but in vain. My
over charged heart refused to arouse, to go
into it; and the images I courted were lifeless
—the canvas mocked me with blurred, distort
ed pictures. And then, I felt ill. During
that illness they administered to me brandy.
I drank the strengthening portions quite un
consciously for awhile. I was too ill to
rea'ize anything and obeyed my nurse
mechanically. And then, knowing, I con
tinued the grateful drinks. I felt that in ig
norance I had already broken my pledge to
you, to myself—and what mattered? You
had cast me off in scorn; and, I—what was I?
A broken human life, nothing more. I grew
stronger physically. The thirst continued.
The desire appeased comforted me, but with
only an unwholesome, troubled zest. And
then the old, old story. S ep by step I stum
bled further and further into the downward
race and fell by the wayside as other and no
bler men have fallen through the same foul
channel.”
Involuntarily her hand reached out, touch
ing his hair in caressi lg compassion.
“Why did you not go home to your own
family ? There with your mother and sisters
you would have found love, comfort, strength,
which you so needed in that desolate hour.”
“My parents were dead. Soon after you
left me, both my father and mother died sud
denly in a week of each other. My sisters
married, one before and one after the bereave
ment. I was alone."
"Bert, 1 was wrong. I have much to blame
myself with.”
He started.
“Not wrong in understanding properly my
situation: not wrong in believing that I had
cause to do woat I did; but wrong in the hasty
course, which, a; that time of extreme bitter
ness, seemed to be the only way clear to me
I was wrong in leaving for you the words of
ruthless reproach. That was cruel. Since
then I have lived in a different sphere—more
in the lives of others, less in my own broken
individual life, and in a new work to which I
dedicated myself. I have now a Broader sense
of the world and its living creatures, a less
prejudiced appreciation of human nature, a
deeper sympathy, more comprehensive for the
weaker half of the human family. Not only
to-night have I felt this, that I was wrong
then, but I had realized it before and wanted
to meet you.”
“And now, Bert, once you said I saved you.
I believe you. Will you again take oiy hand,
as a friend only, now, which I offer in friend
liness, the newly cultivated friendliness to
ward all human beings, the weak as well as
the strong. But frankly, I admit that in you
there is to me a special interest which no other
holds or ever can—a deep, prayerful anxiety.
Will you let me reach out a hand to help you
now as then and for always?”
“You can do this! Oh, Estelle, how great
and good you are.”
“We will not resurrect any part of the past
—never recur to it by a word.”
“First, let me ask you one question, that has
been a ceaseless question in my heart since
you left me. And by the ue v promise you
ask of me now answer me with your own
truthful candor.”
“Ask it, whatever it may be, I will answer
it truthfully.”
“Why, after you had once forgiven the past
did you retract the pardon, vowing never to
forgive? There was nothing new to pardon.
I had not deceived you. The wrong to you I
was innocent of, even as yourself.”
“Bert!” came through her lips as a broken
sigh, “you promised to answer it,” in almost
an awed undertone, for the crushed pain iu
tbit one whispered word, that sounded like a
half-hushed groan, affected him singularly.
“It will be a torture to me to tempt a dis
avowal irom you—another deception.”
“Another deception!" in a bitter reproach.
“At least, I never, in the faintest insinuation,
deceived you. I never in my life, knowingly,
deceived any one.”
“Hush! for God’s sake!—for the sake of the
work I must do.”
‘ Let me know, however painful, what it is
with which you charge me? A criminal even
is not judged unheard.”
There was a painfu. si ence, then she spoke
in a firm voice.
She told him of the letter she had found hid-
dentallv, she did not know—that she had read
the letter and had gone to the writer of it to
ask an explanation of a clause contained in
the letter relating to s .one deed that necessi
tated his concealing himself to elude the Paris
police. She paused with a painful catch inliei
throat.
“What explanation did she give?” he asked
between his clinched teeth, while his eyes
burned with suppressed rage.
“You said truly, Bert,” not heeding his
question, “that there was no new deed to foi-
give. But on the evening of our betrothal you
been touched combinedly in a perfect coucord. I solemnly assure 1 me that you had never com-
A few lingered beside the doors and in the mitted a crime—never, save in that dark hour
aisles, talking in subdueo tones; and one re- I of drunkenness, of maddened deiperation, had
mained seated, alone, motionless, with face i you ever been near so foul an evil as a deed of
bowed on his folded arms which rested on the | shame; when, as I knew, your better self so-
The celestial voice and melodic strains were
dying away in a sweet thrilling sigh and its
visions fading, but the pictures she had con
ceived ami painted to them, with herself the
center feature, remained stamped in all its
vividness to abide many days, ay, months,
perhaps years, to do their work through na
ture’s own laws of evolution; rapidly or slowly
as the impressionable matter receiving was
•gifted with capacities.
The crowd dispersed; quietly, because they
were moved. The emotions and reason hail
back of the chair in front of him.
It was Adalbert Rosseberne.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The story teller had retired behind the cur
tain.
An old gentleman and a gray-haired lady
awaited her in the almost emptied hall.
She came out wit a hat and cloak ready for
the drive h.rne, but paused to tell the aged cou
ple. to go on without her, and wait for her in
the carriage, saying, there was a person whom
she wished to see alone for a few minutes.
Softly she approached that solitary motion
less figure and laying her hand gently on his
arm said:
“Bert, come with me; I wish to speak with
you.
His hand sought hers, closing over it with a
timid tenderness.
His face, wet with tears, was raised. He
was too much moved to speak eveu her name.
she saw that he had been touched even to
weeping; that her special errand that night
was rewarded with a premise; that her nies-
bered through the mystic influence imparted
from myself, though sleeping and unknown to
you, the deed was ieft undone and spared you
the remorse. In that ” Again she paused
with a sharp indrawn breath, and her teeth set
fast to her undeilip.
He did not repeat his question, but trem
bling as with a chill he waited for her to con
tinue.
“In that base falsehood was there not some
thing new to me personally to forgive when I
disc, vered the cruel deception?” Her musical
voice rui g with a curious mingling of compas
sion and stern judgment. “That you had pre
served that fatal witness, the letter, was a
mystery to me. I could only account for it
by supposing that you did not know that you
had not destroyed it; that it was one of the
accidents of the past that will rise up some
times to confront those who have been guilty
of baseness. The story with which she proved
your guilt was convincing and of untold agony
to me. But, that deed lies between you and
your God—an insulted God. Only He can for
give it.”
[to be continued.]
“The place sir,” interrupted DeBracy, “is
too well known to ever be molested. Besides,
Mr. Verne, the time has come when I must
claim my reward, and with her consent, and I
trust with your own, the hand of your daugh
ter.”
“Colonel DeBracy,” spake Verne stepping
forward and showing h?s person wrapped in
the folds of a Union flag which he had brought
from the house, “I love my daughter and you
too well to confer on a confeierate chieftain
the daughter of a Union loyalist. No my dearest
DeBracy, were it a time of peace, I should
bless tue day that made you my son; but
should Leo ever wed, it must be to one, who
when this war is over, can hold up the head of
a patriot to that Union into whose allegiance
we were bom,” and Verne as he spoke enfold
ed his daughters symmetrical form in the stars
and stripes.
Leo’s eyes made an appeal to her lover and
the last t f the DeBracys leaned upon the arm
of the Union patriot as in confirmation of the
marriage contract, he bowed his proud and no
ble head and kissed the stars and stripes over
the hand of his lady love. “Mr. Verne,” he
(aid as he raised his f>ce with its expression
of frank nobilit/, “I too loved and was bred to
love the old Union. But my state is my moth
er; her act whether wise or reckless is not for
me to say, but it called me to her rescue, and
but for a new wound, to-morrow would have
f tuiid me marching to her frontiers. But
should the Almigaty declare by this struggle
whica you deem short-lived, but which during
its day demands my presence in the Southern
rauKs, that the Union is one whole—our moth
er—country, no one will more gladly than De
ll -acy blend his love of Dixie with the love of
Yankee Doodle. So by the love of your daugh
ter pleaded by herself, by your own life at
present in m3 - keeping, and by my blood,
whirii seals this union of hearts, I claim the
hand and hear, of Leo, and asK that as my
wife, she shall proceed hence to my home.”
DeBracy ended his appeal by throwing back
his coat, which revealed his linen stained with
blood.
“My God!” exclaimed Leo as her form
swayed forward to Deliracy’s, “you are shot,
and I am wretched forever!”
DeBracy eaught aud held the lovely figure,
as he quickly wuispered in her ear, “only a
flesh wound in uiy .boulder darling, received
from the shot we heard tired as we passed
through the hail. I shall survive it for your
sweet sake, ai d now you cau have two weeks
to nurse me, while but for this wound I must
have left you for the fro it to morrow and then
what a lonely, dreary honeymoon, for Leo,
you must help me press this marriage now.”
“Col. DeBracy,” said Verne, “you have won
not only the daughter’s bet the father’s heart,
but in the mi 1st of smoke and blood you speak
of priest and shrine, and then what says my
Leo?”
“Oh father,” rc-pled Leo still smiling
through her tears, “(Jolouel DeBracy has spo
ken for us boih. lie is my Dixie and you my
Y'ankee Doodle."
“I will provide the other necessaries,” said
DeBracy with his usual spirit. “Hereiieuten-
ant,” he called aloud, “send your chaplain to
the front.”
Accordingly the faithful rector of the parish,
who had come up with the rescuers, and now
greeted them all warm.y as 1,’eBracy Baid
“Dean Williams my father, whom you will
couduct to the chapel to give his daughter in
marr.age, and come my friends,” he added to
the soldiers, “witness our nuptials and then
break your fast ou our wedding feast.”
Mr. Verne with the flag still about him, took
the arm of the rector, and lighted by the flames,
the}’ walked down the avenue followed by the
youthful couple, while the soldiers who fell in
line, marched once more behind the stars and
stripes of their old flag. The garrison was
composed partly of Habersham count}' recruits,
and even through the ordeal they had just pass
ed, DeBracy and Leo were amused by over
hearing their comments on the old flag. “Now
you jist think,” said one, “it was hard to be
pulled like a gander from under where we mi
litia was drilled, and then made to run against
what we used to righ i wheel and present arms
under.”
“You can hi’st it now,” saida second sol
dier, “and prodgick all over Towns county
and nobody will devil you, for you’ens all
knows Towns county never did go out of ihe
Union."
“Well I’m Confederick now,” said a third,
“but when I’m huugry as I am now, I’ll walk
after any flag for provender, and if that old
man wants to tie up that long gown he’s got
around him over the quarters we’re going into
I can eat just as square a meal under it as any
other tent. Fact is if he wants me to know it,
he’ll have to knock me down to it, for I have’nt
seen a flag or tent either, for better’n a year.”
At length the chapel was reached, the doors
thrown open and the weddiDg party entered,
while the soldiers formed around, and Jared
Verne, as he gave his daughter away, looked
with pride to see her wedded to valor and de
votion.
“Father,” said DeBracy after the ceremony
had been performed, and he had accepted the
congratulations, “I was summoned to this
chapel to rob you, and indeed in it I have won
your choicest tieasure, but it will be to you the
gaining of a son aud not the losing of a daugh
ter. And now lieutenant,” he added, “for
ward with your brave soldiers to my wedding
breakfast which shall be served at my quar
ters, and when for some time I shall get or
ders to have you stationed, for as soon as this
scratch,” he pressed the wound on his left
shoulder, “is healed, I must hasten to the
front and leave to you the charge of my wife
and father when I am far away.”
“Y’our wishes shall be fulfilled Colonel,”
answered the lieutenan; gallantly, and smil
ingly he added, “not the least acceptable to my
huugry soldiers will be the eating of your wed
ding breakfast.”
“Forward then brave comrades,” said De
Bracy and then stooping to whisper and sup
port his beautiful bride, who was wearied and
sinking, he pointed through a rift in the foli
age where the peaks of his mansion were be
ginning to gleam and glisten iu the first beams
of the rising sun.
“Ai-d o’er the hills and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim
Beyond the night across the day
Through all the wor d she followed him.”
wl Ws dJo an!s _
CHAT.
X. L II., your kind words were appreciated,
as was also the private letter from Little
Chloe. As to who I am, my identity has been
almost lost in the many positive assertions re
ceived that I am everybody but myself. If
the yarn of tangled questions is ever unrav
eled, however, you shall know.
Douglas, your inquiries concerning Ourrer
Bell can be answered by some member more
familiar with that author’s life, or more versed
in the art of reading novels than I.
Speaking of novels, have you ever noticed
the style of so-called literature flooding the
market nowadays?
Somehow ’tis fashionable to ign ore Coler
idge, Dickens, Homer, Milton, Scott, George
Eliiott, Thackery and other standard writers,
and to be conventional one must have a thor
ough knowledge of the messieftrs ai d mam’-
selles who make up the lighter literature (?)
so suggestive of milk and water, or more for
cibly, “blood and thunder.”
In ye olden time, much importance was ar
rived from reading certain book.-. If it hud
been a book of knight-errantry, Ignacio
would have become a great knight errant;
was the lives of the saints, and Ignatius be
came a great saint. According to this, what
must be the impressions upon the mind of
young girl after perusing one of the sensa
tional books so mu :h in v«.gue?
I believe this an age of progress, but if the
girls and boys of the piesent day prove as apt
a pupil as did Ignacio, the next generation
will be a set of sensational idiots.
Johnny Tuberose, we are beco ning alarm?
at your prolonged absence. Do you know
whispered report says you haze disappeared
like the old woman of Berkeley? And one
well-wisher prays for you a hasty journey.
Mother Hubbard.
please tell me the circumstances of Ourrer
Bell’s life when Sherlev was written? In one
place he says, “Ignorance was carried away
from the very gates of Heaven, borne through
the air, and thrust in at a door in the side of
the hill which led down to hell.” Now if this
was so, I’m quite sure that vast quantities of
it has oozed up again and is in full circulation
now.
Give Away, you need net exult over your
big (?) secret, perhaps you are not so very
much wiser than other people after all.
lorida, I like your letters, they savor of
Wild-wood anil Orange-blossoms.
• Au Becoir,
Columbus, Oa. Douolas.
Literary Clubs.
Dear Mother Hubbard: Several years ago
ventured to write a letter to this choice depart
ment of the Sunnv South, and Mrs. Bryan
promptly published it. Then for weary weeks
and months I waited for one little word of wel
come or encouragement, but none ever came,
And, subdued and discouraged, I determined
henceforth to be only a looker-on in Venice.
But something about the charmed circle was
so irresistibly attractive that last fall I knocked
again. Again the presiding genius of the
Household kindly received me, and soon after
one of the members referred to me very pleas
antly; and in last we k’s “Sunny” dear Mother
Hubbard tells me there is a letter waiting for
for timid little me. Oh! how bright the gloomy
February day looked after 1 read that, for it is
wonderful how we long for sympathy and ap
preciation, and the heart expands beneath its
gentle influence like flowers, jjepeath the vivi
fying effects of the sun.
How many of the Household have belonged
to a literary club this winter? They are al
ways interesting, and especially so when one
lives (as I do) in a small town, where the sup-
pi; of amusements is necessarily limited. Our
club began with only seven members; but, no
wise discouraged, we persevered until our num
ber is about fifty-five now, and it takes a large
parlor to accommodate us. We have the reg
ular officers that usually govern such a body.
Then we have a programme committee, whose
duty is always to have prepared a programme,
not’only for the next weekly meeting, but for
two weeks in advance, so that no member cau
ever give “lack of time” as an excuse for neg
lected duty. Our exercises open with roll call
by the Secretary, and each member responds
to his or her name with a short quotation from
the author selected for that evening; and an
essay on the same author, by one of the mem
bers, is the first thing in order after the min
utes are read. Then we have music, readings
and recitations, and, as several of the club
rhyme very gracefully and write passable short
stories, the e remises are occasionally varied by
an original effort, which always takes well.
Our by-laws limit each exercise to only ten
minutes duration, and thus one subject is not
allowed to become monotonous.
I could tell more, for our Club is both inte
resting and improving, but , and I must
hurriedly close. Cheered by recent encourage
ment, I hope to come again soon if this little
missive safely passes the Rubicon.
Little Chloe.
Washington, Ark.
First
Singing of “ Home,
Home.”
Sweet
Perhaps the most thrilling quarter of an
hour of John Howard Payne’s life was that
when Jenny Lind sang “Home, Sweet Home,”
to him. The occasion was the Jennv Lind
concert in Washington, the night of Decem
ber 17th, 1850. The assembly was, perhaps,
the most distinguished ever seen in a concert
room in this country. The immense National
Hall, hastily constructed for the occasion on
the ruins of the burned National Theatre, was
tilled to overflowing. Among the notables
present and rccupying front seats were Presi
dent Fillmore, Daniel Webster, Henry Clay
Gen. Scott, and John Howard Payne. Jenny
Lind opened wiiU the “Casta Diva,” and fo f -
lowed with the “Flute Song” (in which hpr
voice contested rivalry for purity and sweet
ness with a flute in the dust), then the famous
“Bird Song,” and next on her programme the
“Greeting tc America.” All the pieces were
applauded apparently to the full caoacitv of
an enthusiastic audience, and Mr. Webster,
who was in his most genial after-dinner mood,
emphasized the plaudit by rising from his seat
and making Jenny a profouud bow, as if re
sponding !or the country to her “Greeting.”
But when the “Swedish Nightingale” aniwer-
ed the encore by turning in the direction of
John Howard Payne and giving “Home, Sweet
Home,” with all the wonderful tenderness,
purity, and simplicity fitting both the words
and air of th; immortal song, the difference
was at once seen between the mechanical ap
plause called out by a display of fine vocaliza
tion, and that elicited by the “touch of nature
that makes the whole world kin.” Before the
first line of the song was completed the audi
ence was fairly “off its feet,” and conld scarce
ly wait for a pause to give expression to its
enthusiasm. People ordinarily of the undem
onstrative sort clapped, stamped, and shouted
as if they were mad, and it seemed as if there
would be no end to the uproar. Meantime all
eyes were turned upon Payne, a small sized,
elegantly-moulded, gray-haired gentleman,
who blushed violently at finding himself the
centre of so many glances.
In spite cf the recent municipal decree sup"
pressing the stalls for the weekly sale of vege
tables in the Gendarmen Market in Berlin, an
aged woman, who has sold her wares there for
more than forty years, not only persists in oc
cupying her wonted “stand,” but actually de
fier the authorities to remove her and her
baskets. It is the old saying over again:
“There are still judges in Berlin.” The an
cestors of the woman had a special privilege
granted them in the days of King Frederick
William I., and she is bound to hold on to it
until death removes her.
Heed Woman Vote?
Dear Mother Hubbard: Kindly permit me
to answer Rebecca Thom’s argument in re
gard to woman’s sufrage.
In this day of American chivalry, when wo
man rules the heaits and minds of men, is
there a necessity for such a measure?
Is not the interest of every true aud faithful
wife, recognized and protected, by the vote of
her loving husband, who at the marriage altar,
pledged himseltt iu the presence of both men
aid angels to forever protect and shield her
from a 1 harm?
Is not the sentiment of every fond mother
voiced at the polls by her son, who is the
pride and joy of her old age? And could that
sou do other thau by his vote protect the fee
ble footsteps of the sainted mother, who had
watched over his life with an anxious yearn
ing heart from his birth to his manhood.
Is not the daughter, the apple of the father’s
eye, upon whom she depen Is for counsel, for
a' tvice, and instruction can she not too rely
ui.ion him to protect her interest at the polls?
Can it be, that the gallant lover upon whose
arm the blushing maiden clings with implicit
faith, is not to be trusted?
Can it be possible that American gallantry
is at such a low ebb that our women are com
pelled to cry out from the rostrum, and through
the press asking for the privilege of represent
ing their own interest at the ballot box.
“llomimJ? the very name is enough to
awaken the sle iping energies of man’s soni,
and kindle the respect love and admiration, of
every man upon the face of the globe.
If my little friend will look again, I am con
fident, that she will find some one who is look
ing well to her every interest, if not, when I
voice the sentiment of sister, mother and little
sweetheart, at the ballot box I will vote for
for her too.
Meanwhile wives, mothers and sisters, the
men want you to look to their interest on elec
tion days, and nothing pleases them better
thau a daintily prepared dinner.
This is a better way to make things harmon
ize, and by doing this, you will And yourselves
far happier than in exerc sing your right as a
free citizen at the ballot box.
I love the Household and its contribul ors.
Their views and purposes are enobling, and I
bid you God speed in your efforts.
Carl.
Questions, Kind Words and Criti
cisms.
Dear Mather Hubbard:—Veritas, I thank you
for the pleasure your beautiful lines afforded
me; they shall occupy a prominent place in my
scrap book.
Muda Hetmur your letter inspires me to take
up the burden of life with renewed energy, de-
termined'to conquer in spite of the cruel stabs
of Fate. Fate indeed! have I forgotten the
words of the noble o d poet, who wrote—
“Preverse mankind, whose wills created free,
Change all their woes on absolute decree—
All to the dooming Gods their translate,
And follies are miscalled the crimes of Fate!”
Dearaother Hubbard, will you or some one
Dear Mother Hubbard:—Tbere’s a bush—a
sliilness ot all nature— a fog lies thick and
heavy—not a breath of wind seems stirring.
As I push hack the hair from my forehead, ~I
catch the sound of a dog in chase, then an
other, and another, until the whole pack comes
in hearing, and a* swiftly die away in the dis
tance. A hunter’s horn seuds out a shrill
blast—then all is still again, intense stillness.
Broken now by the inock-bird’s strain of mel
ody, and again by the familiar cackle of a
fowl.
The fog seems lifting—lifting, and presently
the sunshine floods the whole landscape, na
ture shakes off the drowsy stupor, and a per
fect February morning is ours.
What a long breath we draw as we confront
a heap of letters and answers are to be forth
coming. (>ne from the “daintiest lady in the
laud,” full of brigiit thoughts, chaste expres
sions, pervaded wuh an ever present yearning
to be goo i and useful, and an ornament to her
chosen profession—that of a teacher, as if
her whole life nd influence were not as sweet
and pure as the very air she breathes.
“Hands that ope but to receive
Empty close; they only live
Ricnly, who can richly give.”
Another from one who was, in days Lang
Syne, the embodiment of strength and sup°
port; but now, alas! bereft of loved ones, mind
and health a wreck! The disjointed senten
ces, disconnected thoughts and undertone of
depression and sadness, touches one with a
feeling of pain and pity.
Next one from a dear old boy who has turn
ed his back on things fond and familiar, and
cast his lot with the residents of the far famed
Land of Flowers. The joy this letter brings
is very nearly akin to sadness. What matter
if that fair land is a bower of bloom, a pro
fusion of fruit, the home of all that’s sweet
and fragrant, are not other things essential to
happiness, yea to comfort? Whose ear is
ever ready for the sacred confidence, waose
touch made mesmeric with unuttered love and
deep sympathy, who to comfort mind and
body can take the place of those who love and
trust?
“Give Away,” that letter of yours has
roused my curiosity; who is Mother Hubbard
—our new head? Rell, didn’t “they say” you
were a lawyer! Guess who she is, and guess
out loud. Aud Rell, don’t let “press of busi
ness” keep your seat among us vacant; and
where are Kerr, Sub Rosa, Japnnica and Busy
Bee?
Lea' Kimraer, rour Christmas and New
Year’s letter is just as apropos as if it had not
been delayed. I wonder if Leal is identified
with Betsey Hamilton?
N. L. H., your Household letters have al
ways been of the strongest and best, and in
Hearthstone Studies we find the same charac
teristics. No feature of the Sunny South
proves more attractive than these studies.
Yellow Jessamine, the favorite of all the
favoured, and bright Butterfly, your times
is surely coming. Even now spring is send
ing out her messengers.
And Pats—dear, delightful, charming Pats,
to win our love and approbation and then de
sert us, how ungrateful!
Rosa Alba—but I must not go on particular
izing members, else this golden silence I have
preserved so long will still remain unbroken,
and through no fault (?) of mine We have
so many gifted members tbat we “lesser
lights” are fain to be comforted with these
lines:
wheel; take us back! take us baok to the child
ish, pagan days when woman•' was a pretty
plaything, soulless, it is true, but harmless,
rather than lead to the very Christian era when
she shall be man’s equal! Bat I forgot; prog
ress does not retrograde, so they say, but con
tinue8 to move onward, npward, flying, as the
wings of morning, to the full and perfect day.
Then swilt and ever gracious Progress, as a
specimen of tby wondrous handicraft, first
make mm woman’s equal in the State. Ha! I
snap my womanly fing-rs in thy face with ex
ultation, thou striped soi-disant I’rogress, and
say what is known without the telling, that
you cannot do it. Neither can woman ever be
made man’s equal, for the Creator ordained
them to remain unequal and incomparable.
What shall be the reward of the faction of
the future—let us call it “the man of destiny,”
who, as a coup d' etat, not for woman’s eleva
tion, will place the ballto-box within the reach
of woman? Will the “hydra headed” mon-
■itrosiu, the would-be-meu, reformatory sis
terhood, who are even now growing hoarse
with demanding i’. as a natural right, bless
him and hail him as a deliverer from boniage?
Yes, blithe will also have another exceeding
great reward—the consciousness that, for self
aggrandizement, he w 11 have bartered man-
hooo, degraded the standard of true woman
hood, destroyed the home sanctuary, and set
at defiance God's laws. .Will woman be man’s
equal then ? Condorcet, arise from thy cen
tury slumber, and answer for the future’s
egalite! Ralph Waldo Emerson, thou who
didst, as yonder fallen oak, “decay first at the
top;” John Greenleaf Whittier, beloved pott—
philanthropist, and England’s clear-sighted
Jacob Bright, and large hearted, brainy John
Stuart Mil;—wiii this be progress? Shades of
Charles Slimmer, Chief-Justice Chase, Henry
Wilson, William Lloyd Garrison and Abraham
Lincoln—will this be reform? Elizabeth Cady
Stanton, Phoebe Cousins, Susan B. Anthony,
Lucy Stone, Alice Blackwell, Julia Warde
Howe, Belva Lockwood, and all ye “lesser
men”—will this be woman’s real enfranchise
ment? Alas! alas! alas! then Pandora’s box
heid nothing halt so baneful as the futures
egalite, progress, reform and freedom.
I canuot bear to think of the national shame
with the iconoclism of all that is pure and
beautiful that will befall our Republic when
woman becomes a political facto*. Better an
oligarchy, better u » government at all, than
that of a republic without homes and home-
keepers, say I. Better, far better for women—
the women of the “solid Sou'll” (solid iu all
that is true and noble) be even as the Peruvian
mummy with a shell on its lips, and preserve
eternal silence, than vote after the manner of
men—at the oox. “Women, without the right
of franchise, cast the weighiest votes for good
is a truism we all know full well. We, the
home-keepers of our beloved Southland, shel
tered by the beautiful, strong walls of our God
blessed home sanctuaries, and casting these
“weightiest votes” of influence—do we realize
the evil that will come with the .dawn of wo
man’s so-called emancipation day?
Viva.
Marshall, Texas.
among the
It mfiy b© srlor OU8 to write
Though** that shall glad thee, two or three,
High souls, like those* far stars that come in sight
Uuce in a ceutury.
But bet ter far it iu to speak—
One si mule word, which now and ‘ hen
Shall w-Ken >heir free nature in the weak,
And friendless sons of men.
0 ^ri'e so * © earnest verse or line
V. h ch, seeking not the praise of art,
Shall m ike a clearer f tith and mai hood shir e
1 * the untutored hem t.
Is our voice weak, our hands so sharp, our
station lowly? Remember—
“The com tot deeds of the common d y
A-e ringing bells in the far away.”
And that—
On y the good a id tree, of ell oar sots
.ike tim'detura free oil the diukaess stealing,
Strike their pur., lights along the slope of Time,
Life'srea! worih revealing.
Charm ion.
Columbus, Ga.
The Woman Question.
To vote, or not to vole, that is the question
for our womanly consideration, eli, Dora
Tnom? The air is full of a prophecy that is
voiced by the spirit of the times: (Household
friends, I profess do skill in exegesis, but is
not this what the spirit saith?) “Woman will
vote!” Hasten slowly to thy dawning, oh
faithful dies irae, black with woman’s doom!
But when, oh prophetic Time—spirit! when
will woman be degraded to political factorship?
(Hark ye, my sisters, and rejoice with Viva
that the evil day is not yet.) When? Not un
til patriotism is a blear eyed, palsied dotard!
Not until the Republic is sick unto death with
party strife as in lernicine in mutual hatred as
that which cursed Dante’s Florence in Guelph
and G nibeline days! When the foemen cf equal
strength—the giants, Democrat and Republi
can, have exhausted the ballot armory of its
weapons (the strongest ever made for national
weal or woe), preparative for the desperate
last struggle for supremacy the one over the
other (ani whatever betides, the ruin of the
State)—then will woman be thought of seri
ously as a weight (the last expedient) to throw
into the scales politic, to counterbalance the
equipoise of factional strength. Then will wo
man—alas, poor woman!—be in demand as a
voting machine, as an engine of political war
fare, a missile-thrower to be empl iyed by Sir
Cavalier or any Lord Puritan (who shall be
first to understand the value of the new pro
jectile, this deponent saith not) iu the emer
gency requiring more votes than men can vote
for the annihilation of one party with the ag
grandizement of the other. And then with
flourish of trumpets shall woman—the woman
of the discontented, strong-minded (•) North
ern masses—wearing a mock crown and robe
of purple, be escorted in triumph to the polls,
by one or the other of the Cyclopean factions,
to cast her vote in favor of tne one which, as a
coup d’etat, will have procured for her the
right (?) of franchise.
Dear Householders, are you actually laugh
ing at Viva’s interpretation of the time spirit
(zeit-geist, as Mathew Arnold worshipfully
terms it?) Yon call me alarmist, myope,
would-be exegete, and false prophet? Well,
so be It. Stone me if you must (and can); I
do but humbly answer that the accents of the
Zeit-geist soundeth thus, to my dull ears; tbat
the handwriting on the wall, by my dim rush-
light, appeareth thus be read:
“And as this the only meaning the ages past
have caught”—that pseudo American progress,
grown mightier than Jehovah’s self, can make
woman man’s equal iu the State? Iroh pudor!
Is this the end, the bitter, bitter end to be at
tained before the perfection of State-craft be
reached? Faugh! O Juggernaut Progress!
turn backward thy ever whirling, blazing
Handsome Hats and Beautiful Bon
nets.
Round hats, medium in size, have variously
shaped brims closely rolled. High hats with
slightly tapered crowns have brims long in
front, short at back and roiled high and close
at the sides.
Hats of Milan straw are 'argely imported in
all the colors of the spring fabrics, eern Suede
and brown shades being most sought alter.
The ere wns are fairly high, and of Milan
straw, with brims of fancy braid. -
Plain brims are faced with velvet or beaded,
and the front of the crown almost hidden by a
faille fan or even tail, or loops or ladders of
ribbon bows up the front, with ostrich tips in
clusters down the back or on the side.
Beautiful hats shown at Ridley’s have high
front bows of doubled ribbon in two colors.
One in particular is of old-rose Milan straw,
and velvet facing of deeper rose on the wide,
turned up sides of the brim. The tall bow of
brown and old-rose ribbon is prolonged into
bands around the crown. Two slender wings
in similar colors ornament each side back of
the loops.
Lower-crowned hats resembling English
turbans have evenly rolled brims. Dress hats
of lace and colored velvets have jetted side-
brims. The new Flaamnt velvets, also those
in duller red tints, and other shades are lovely
with lace in.these hats.
Bonnets are still small with high, narrow
trimmings. The close, cottage shape, slight
ly tilted or pointed at the fore-head, to accom
modate face garnitures, is rounded at the ears,
and is sometimes|supplemented with a coronet,
which is the most novel feature, as simple or
as elaborate as the wearer may elect either a
reverse of the straw or trimmed with beads or
mass is of fine flowers minus foliage.
Plain Milan straws and fancy braids plaited
in close, or open lace-work designs, constitute
the bulk of the importations.
Neapolitan straws are particularly desirable
in black and composed of straw stripes with
jet gimps. Colored satin straws, and fine
Tuscan braids are shown. In bonnets as in
hats, the tints of taking textiles repeat them
selves.
Sallie J. Battey.
A LADYFKOM ALABAMA WRITES: “iHupoau
wowauhli.d mav receive tne messing ot the pre
..a. story treatment for prospective mothers, by Dr.
Slainback Wilson, All mts, G t. I have not words
to express my gratitude and thankfulness. AH
mothers should send to him for further information.”
I regret very much to report an overflowing
wastebasket this week, bat some few of you
have sent dozens of letters without a stamp to
forward with.
Others have sent advertisements without
the fee which of course we canuot publish.
The fee is only ten cents per line, eight words
to a line, for advertsiemants, and we charge
nothing for forwarding letters to our adver
tisers, but you must furnish us with au unseal
ed, Hank, stamped envelope to send them in.
Madge Melvalk,
Sunny Soctu Office.
Girls between 15 and 20 years please write
to me. Will exchange photo’s.
Marion S.
A young lawyer 2fl years old, a heart whole
and fancy free; will answer vour letters.
Jack G.
Ladies write to me, will exchangs photos.
Frank.
A good looking young man 20 years old
wants lady corrzspon dents. Address
Honesty.
McRae, Ga.
Telfair R.
no jar ^'?, er wou ^ like to covresp md with
Sweet. Photographs Exchanged.
Am anxious to correspond with several bru
nettes between fifteen and twenty.
Musician.
YVill some pretty young girl write to
Jack H?
“Dulcie” wishes to correspond with
McCarobek.
Dearest girls, please write to me.
Romeo 2.
Will lone please write to
Wellington?
Wanted—a gentleman correspondent, age
from 24 to JO. q o
Wanted—a gentleman correspondent, age
25 to JO. “E.L. B.,”
Care Sunnt South.
What young ladies will correspond with a
Texas gentleman. Temperate, lively disposi
tion. T G
Wanted, a lady correspondent. Object, fun
with a view to matrimony. Address, Lock
Box 70, Crystal Springs, Miss.
A young man, age 20. a graduate of one of
the best Universities m the South wishes to
correspond with a refined and educated young
lady. Object, improvement in epistolary com
position. Shil.
A cadet who will graduate this summer de
sires a correspondence with regard to fun
matri cony may follow. Address, care Sunnt
South, John Cay more.
I am a brunette 26 years of age, in good
circumstances. I would like to correspond
with young ladies from 16 to 20 years old.
Object, fun and perhaps matrimony.
Hoosirk.
A young man, age twenty-six, dark hair
five feet nine inches high, in good business’
wishes gx>d looking, intelligent lady corre
spondents, from seventeen to twenty-two, who
knows how to keep house. Address care
Sunny South, i Armand
Wish a gentleman correspondent over 22
and full of fun. Am 18, brown eyes, golden
’•air.
Petite.
Being a Southerner, I would be pleased to
correspond with Southern young ladies—pretty
brunettes preferred. I am 19. My object be
ing pleasure. Homer.
A young man of 34, of good moral character
wants to form the acquaintance of an int-lli-
gent young lady under 80. Object matrimony.
Brunette preferred. Vindex.
A wealthy young merchant, age 25, good
looking, wants a wife. I mean business.
Address DkCambrox.
I am thiee times seven and want a pretty
and intelligent young lady to correspond with
me. I will tell her my object.
G. M.
“Her silver voice is the rich music of a sum
mer bird.”
YVlio will be “/ier?”
My age 22; weight 100; height 6 feet; plenty
of money. Venus please write. Gif.
A young man of 19, who is a Southern»r,
would be pleased to correspond with Southern
young lidies. Brunettes preferred. Object
being pleasure. g. F. M.
A widow 25, desires to correspond with a
gentleman; must be in best social standing,
(blonde preferred) between 30 and 40, about
six feet tall; (weight, about two hundred. If
matrimonially inclined, must be rich. I have
all required if matrimonially inclined corre
spondent. Am not particular about the mat
rimony. Lone Widow.
W«KIKH (SimplesFREE) for DB.
mitmi ELEC! R'l
A&ENTS scon?" elYcibic'cok
nUJ311 AU 8EfS, BRUSHES, BELTS E*. No
risk, quick sale*. Temt«»rv »Uven, har,nfaction guar
antee*. l>». Keoti’i 843 Broadway, ». Y.
PAETIAL CATALOGUE OF TEN CENT MUSIC,
A NY piece Music on this list mailed free, to any address, for TEN CENTS. Do not longer
pay 30 cents to §1.00 per copy, when you can buy same for 10 cents. ^
, COMPLETE CATALOGUE, Csntaining names of nearly 2,000 pieces of 10 Ceut Music Mail-
' J ed 10 any Address Free. Send fer it.
DEMIT By Postal Note, Express Money Order, Bank Draft, or money in Rostered Letter
11 One and 2-cent stamps received for sums less tian one Dollar. °
VOCAL.
No. Usual “ric
4 An I Still Beloved? - - Dinks J5
23 beautiful Bessif— chirus - Ef.tabroika 35
65 Come wneu tu-■•‘oft I wili /ht tails - S mum .un 30
13 Dear Heart, Wo’re grewlig ol.'—cborus
Estabraose 35
107 E'sie DariiDg, I am Wailing—ahurns
(very pretty) - Cox 35
121 Far away Mrs Bliss 30
F.t ier is drinking f g lin—Temp (ehc-
ius) ----- B.ckmore 35
Gobble Song—duet. “Mascot” • Amiran 35
180 Her B igut Smile Hnu ns mestlll - Wrigaten 35
2o4 I’m caned Little Buttercup—Pmati.re
- - - * - Suillvan 30
2#3 I met Tb“e nft in Dreamlands Mysilo
Bowers—E ig and Ger - - Hahn 35
214 In tne Gloaming—an - - Gab i-l 35
218 Italiad Love Soue—An - - Bim utl 30
225 It tbat me Pale Moun sadly snone
—Eng and Ger ; Hahn 35
22G It Was a Dream - Oi.wen 30
246 Keep us Safely lo the End—saen-d
• ------ Gilbert 30
259 Larboard YVateb—dret - Wiliams 50
282 L ttie Voices attbeDoor—chorus - Dinks 35
345 My (tn»™ - - Biumentoal 50
359 N •! Sir—S-ianlsh BIliad - Waked-ld 30
372 Only a Flower—chorus (vary pret-
ty) - - - - - Mary Mack 35
385 O e Kiss and Good Night—chorus - Geary 35
416 It ng aem t burin Beils—Eibloyian
- - - - - - • Sawyer 30
449 Sleep, Darling, Sleep—Lover’s luila >»
• - H tbn 35
510 Walt Till the Moonlight Fall.—chorus
- - Bam all 35
546 We’d Better Bale a W*e-Sco'eh-C armel 30
553 We Never Sptak as We Pass By—cho
res ----- Harmon 35
583 Wnl You Miss He When I,me Gone?—
caoiuB ----- Sawyer 35
INSTRUMENTAL.
615 Artist’s Life—Knensller Leben (op
3!6), ; - - - - - S ranss 40
616 A l’ol—To Tliee (waltzes, op 15 )
• - ‘ W„1 .te,fei 35
621 Battle of Waterloo - - Anderson 40
633 Black Hawk Wruz^s - - Waist 35
633 IS.act Key P ilka Mazurka - H-rzog 35
642 Boccacto March • - - • Srpps 35
670 Chop Slicks Waltz - - - De Zudi 30
672 C eveiana’s Grand March-with elegant
lithograph Portrait of H n Grover
Claw-land - - Scuieiflatb 40
6.80 Com F ower Waltz ; s - - Ouote go
696 Nfepolit.ine - - Smith 60
715 F.Im’1 Dream—from Lohengrlr - DLzt 35
721 Faotasttcs SouoitlSChs - - Gab. lei 35
727 Fatini za M ireb - artGecee 35
732 First Kiss Wa»l - - - Limo'he 35
746 Fro'ics of in*.FiogWaltz - Waism 35
751 Gaifi ild’s Foneral March - Hewitt 35
765 Goluoii Ru i Waiizes - Wold’-nfel 40
784 Helter huniter GaloD - - F lust 35
785 Her Bright Smiles Han-”; Ms st‘l—
valla - - - Brimey Kiciisrds 40
789 Home, Sweet Home—yarii - S ack 60
8 0 Jersey Lily Waltzes - - Bchlalffartb 40
Usual Prier.
Buqik 35
Andran SO
Strauss 30
Solndler 50
Bfo.
811 Jily B 'others Galop
878 Mascot Waltz
883 Merry War M arch
901 Murmfrine Brook—op H2
905 My Q :een YVallzcs—only completeedi
tio 1.—Biic’ca^o? si » . . Coote 61)
90S Nearer. My God, to The« —varla-Chandler 4o
.>09 Nujiro Oddltelt s—Medley of iN&ctation
Melodies—beautiful litdograpb title
627 One F'ncer Waltz— <p 128 Sch.slffarth
948 F*-u>ly Dew Drop-Polka^(2zurfca ,
351 Peri Wa'lzis - - . D’Albert 35
961 P‘ZZ can- Sylvia—divertissement - D llbes 35
966 Pri*. ee Iu.perl.1 Galop - CjotO 33
977 Queen’s Laco HaiidkerthioX—waliz
. • - - - Strauss 30
979 Racquet Galop - . - Dnrkee 35
99ft Rochester Schottlsche - - Bunsen 30
loos Sea Shell Waltz—tasy and pretty
...» „ :, * - - Lillie Douglass ay
1008 Secret Lave—Gsvotte - - R ’sen 35
1011 Shepherd Boy—Iiylie - - Wilson 35
1016 Sippery Waves—variz—complete MUlon
* - - - Wvrnun Ml
1020 S nith's, Gan. P. F, Grand March - Martin 35
1067 ru. klsn Patrol - - - MiahaeJts 4o
Latest Additions—Vocal.
1144 Dream Faces - . . Hutchinson 40
1148 S meet L ive of Mine - - Coneu 30
3004* By-Gone Days-a Fireside R9verie 30
A beautiful plaintive ballad, oy Geo. H
Briggs. Jast published,and is destined
to become very popular.
3008 He ge s there Just the same - Linger 30
3010* l will JToi Tell—Composed by * *
' , * •. • • - - Emil Hahn 35
This is a beautiful encore song of high
grade, and the publishers received a
pei sonil compliment from late Pres'-
„ dent Artturon account of its gresf merit.
5628 Surele * Bihrend :»
3037 This L ive o* Mine - . Grace Earle 40
166ft Auneu Song, from Nancn . Genec 30
1675 Do they Mias Ms at Home—Quartette
1682 He's get ’em on the List,from Mikado ”** *’
1704 See Saw Waltz S mg, complete edition P
* " ' - - - - Crowe 100
Latest Additions—Instrumental.
1152 Caledonian Quadrilles—with calls
' ' ' - - Old Dance 45
llo3 “Call Me Back Hehottiaeb”
Over 25,000 copies of un* elegant Sehote ™
tisebe u<re been sold within three
months; s ifault) for Piano or Organ.
G'ades 0 4; notdiffleiut. 8
1158 Fedora Wj..z -s—only complete edition of
. thl » celebrated composition - Bacaiossl 1.00
c»0j0 Amcretten - • . . . Taum 40
I m, . ,ro .'CP tu ' - - - S-ihuDart «
3069 IavLatton to the Dance - Von Weber 86
2®! 1 ? Lastldeaof Von Weber - Cramer 1.00
30.i> L'ttie Fairy Mazurka . Stre.hoog 35
3084 Mexican Serenade—I. iMuadoilua - Lungey 40
* Pieces marked with a star will not be sold at 10 cents per copy after Jan. 1st, 1888.
After that date full marked prices will be required.
HUYETT’S ELECTRIC ORGAN TEACHER—Price $2.50
The latest and best Organ Method ever published. To introduce this valuable Instructor,
we will send it by mail, post paid, for §1.25 By all means order a sample copy.
‘ J J "" HUVETT '
Address all orders to
2^=PARLOR ORGANS *09.00, PIANOS *197.50.
BROS.
Saint Joseph,
Y