Newspaper Page Text
THE SUNNY SOUTH. ATLANTA. GA„ SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 1,1887.
forth. Sumrr Sottth.
A Great Detective Story.
FROM THE DIARY OF INSPECTOR BYRNES.
BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
[Copyrighted 1887. All rights reserved.]
CHAPTER VII.
As the game ended the princess struck a
loud chord on the piano and rose. ledovsky
rose also, with a laugh, and said: I offer my
felicitations to Mme. Strogello, and I thank
you all for an agreeable evening.’
“But my dear, I protest you should not have
done it!” exclaimed the signor to his wife.
“M. le Comte will think we wish to pillage
him! A royal flush is a thing that comes but
once in ten years. You should not have per
mitted him to involve himself."
“Not at all. Madame simply yielded to my
persistence," Fedovsky said. “I should have
been very sorry had the game turned out oth
erwise. As it is, I may bid you adieu with a.
light conscience; and I may hope—-with the
pri00688* permission—to see you again.
He bowed toward Vera as he spoke. She
made no reply, and, though her face was
turned upon him, it was expressionless and
cold. Something had apparently offended her.
Fedovsky could not imagine what it was. Was
it that he had urged her to go away with him?
That seemed impossible. The more, inasmuch
as she herself had actually suggested the idea
to him. Was she displeased because he had
played in her house for such high stakes? That
might be the case; and yet it would surely
have been easy for her to have intimated as
much beforehand. Or had his failure to divine
the meaning of her “Beware!” offended her?
All these questions passed through his mmd in
a moment of time ( and left him as wise as he
was before.
■»Ah, you shall be given your revenge un
doubtedly,” Signor Strogello said; “for my
part, I shall not be easy until you have had it.
The princess is so kind and hospitable that I
could almost affirm beforehand that she will
let us assemble here again—is it not so charm
ing lady?" „ .
“I shall depend upon seeing all of you again
—the sooner the better," returned the princess,
with what appeared to Fedovsky an almost
sarcastic formality. He had intended to find
a pretext for remaining after the others had
gone, or for coming at some hour when he
might find her alone, but her manner discour
aged him. It occurred to him, however, that
he could write her a letter, in which he could
enlarge upon topics of mutual interest and ask
an explanation of her demeanor; and this pro
ject partly consoled him for his discomfiture.
He was the first to take his leave, and so per
turbed had he been that it was only after he
found himself in the cool, open air that he re
membered that he had again lost his last
franc, and that he would not be able to get
any more until his remittances arrived. This
was awkward, and, incidentally, it would
stand in the way of his encountering his new
friends the next evening at the princess’.
Moreover, his bill at the hotel must amount to
1,000 francs or more, and there was no telling
how soon it might be presented. The idea of
being dunned for a bill that he could not pay
was new to Fedovsky, and amused and an
noyed h’w at the same time. Fortunately,
there were several millions yet to be drawn on,
and his poverty was only for the moment. He
was determined to be caught in no such tight
place again. He would go to America at the
first opportunity, and, before going, he would
make a fresh and resolute effort to persude
Vera to go with him, and he felt confident that
he would succeed.
He was not destined to remain much longer
in this condition. On going to his rooms he
found Tom awaiting him.
“Glad to see you back, sir,” said the faithful
valet. “The letters have come, sir." ■
“The letters? What letters?”
"The letters with the money in them, sir.”
“Already? “Why, that’s impossible! They
can hardly have received my letters yet. It
ust be something else.”
‘They’re from the agents, anyhow, sir,” re-
ned the other. “You can see that for your-
by the handwriting on the envelopes.”
fedovsky looked at them. Certainly they
're from his agents; but they were posted on
ub same dav that he wrote to them. It was
an minima 1 thing for them to address him except
at stated seasons, or in reply to communica
tions from him. There must be some special
news. What could it be?
He sat down, opened one of the letters and
began to read it. Tom, who was quietly ob
serving him, saw his face change almost at
once. He set his lips, his brows lowered and
the blood gradually forsook his cheeks. As
he read on, slight twitchings and contractions
passed across his features. He finished the
first letter, laid it down without any remark
and then took up the other, which he opened
with impassive deliberation. He read it
through more rapidly than the other, and then
placed it also on the table. After sitting in si
lent thought for a few minutes, he took a ciga
rette and lit it and turned to his valet.
“Tom,” he said, “when did I pay you your
wages last?”
“First of the month, sir. Two weeks back.”
“Have you any of them left?;’
“That I have, sir. The whole of ’em.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I may not be able to
pay you any more for some time to come.
And meanwhile, my good fellow, you will have
to look out for another place.”
“Me, sir? Not if I knows it. Beg pardon,
sir, but I don’t go into any service but yours.
If you’re suited, I am; wages no object.
What’s wrong, sir?”
“Why, these letters tell me that I haven’t a
copeck in the world that I can call my own.
Both my estates have been confiscated by the
government. I am accused—and found guilty,
too, it seems—of plotting against the Czar, of
treasonable language, of neglecting to report
myself to the authorities, and of I don’t know
what else. As to the neglect to report, there
may be something in that; but I was given to
understand that the authorities had consented
to excuse me. At all events, here I am, no
better than a detected swindler; for I have my
hotel bill yet to pay, and I don’t know whether
the contents of my trunks will satisfy the
landlord’s claims. So, as I said before, you
must be looking cut for another place. You
can dPDend on me for giving you a good char
acter."
“It would be a pretty poor character I’d
have if I was to leave here at a tine like this,
sir," Tom replied, with an attempt to disguise
emotion under a garb of cheerfulness, “As
for the hotel bill, you needn’t bother yourself
about that. I’ve money enough to pay it, and
to take the two of us to America afterward—
yes, and to make a show after we get there,
too. We can get along without your estates,
sir, never fear!”
“You have money? Where did you get it?”
“Why, I’ll tell you. sir. You may remem
ber you cave me leave of absence the other
night? Well, I didn’t tell you what I meant
to do; but I’d set my mind on having a shy at
the green cloth myself. I’d thought out a bit
of a system that I wanted to try on. Well, the
way it turned out, I didn’t get my system to
work, for the reason that it was the table that
the little ball was spinning on that I got onto
ir'tead of the one with the cards. It was the
first one that I come to, anyhow. I’d brought
with me eighty francs to play with, but I had
a five-franc bit in my waistcoat pocket, and
thinks I, “I’ll have a go with that first, just
for luck.” So I put it down on a red place,
and the fellow spun the little ball, and up
came rc-d sure enough. “Well,” says I to my
self, “what’s good once is good again,” so I
just left the ten francs I’d won where it was,
and it won again, and made twenty.
“Come,” says I, “that isn’t bad neither, so I
let it go again, and the next minute I was
forty francs to the good. Well, twice
fotty Iras eighty; istol to win that era
the next throw, and if I lost it would bo but five
francs at the worst; so I let it alone again, and
the red came round again as regular as cock
crow. By that time the folks was beginning
to take notice, and a crowd of ’em was looking
on. ‘This is my lucky day,’ thinks I; ‘let her
go for all she’s worth.’ Red it was again, and
that made six times in a row. ‘Will you stop
now, Tom?’ says I. ‘Not if I knows myself,’ I
says; and so the next spin fetched me up to
three hundred and twenty francs. ‘You’re
good for a thousand, Tom,’ I says; and what
did I do but turn my back on the board till
he’d spun the ball once more, and I was worth
twelve hundred and eighty francs. With that
somebody says to me, ‘Better take it up now,’
he says, 'its won nine times, and there’s luck
in odd numbers,’ he says. ‘Well, then,’ says
I, ‘there’s more odd numbers besides nine,’ I
says, ‘and I’ll let It stay where it is.’ ‘You’ll j
lose it,’ he says. ‘Will you bet on it?’ says I;
but before he coidd make up his mind to it red
came again, and twenty-five hundred and sixty
francs with it. ‘I’ll bet you five hundred francs
against fifty you lose the next turn,’ says he.
‘Done,’ says I, and we put up the money; and
you should have seen the crowd there was
looking on, sir; and it’s my belief I might have
got all the bets I wanted. Well, I was in that
shape I couldn’t lose if I tried; and when the
red turned up the next time, the crowd just
hollered, and there was a woman fainted dead
away in her chair. What did I do but put the
five hundred I’d won from the fellow down on
the red along with the rest, and that made five
thousand six hundred and twenty francs; and,
says I, out loud, ‘that’s my last stake, ladies and
gentlemen,’ says I, ‘and if I win I’ll give the
odd two hundred and forty francs to the gen
tleman here that spins the ball,’ I says. So at
that they gave a laugh, and the fellow he spun
the ball with an extra twist, and round she
went, and we all looking on like the eyes
would pop out of our heads; and the thing be
gan to slow up, and the chap I’d betttod with
sang out, ‘It’s black,’ he says. ‘Wait a bit till
she stops,’ says I; and just then she turns into
the red and stays there. WeU, sir, I raked in
my cash, and says I, ‘That’s good enough for
me, ladies and gentlemen; I ain’t no hog;
here’s my place for any one that wants it.’
And I give the old croupier the two hundred
and forty I’d promised him, and the other
eleven thousand I stuck in my pockets and off
I went; and some of ’em gave me a hurray.
That’s my yarn, sir, and as things turned out
the only mistake I made was not putting down
my whole eighty francs instead of the five in
my waistcoat pocket.”
Tom told this story with so much zest and
animation that the effect was irresistible, and
Fedovsky almost forgot his troubles while he
listened to him. As the valet concluded he
thrust his hands into his pockets and produced
several large wads of bank notes which he
spread out on the table.
“There,” said he, “that ain’t a million, but
it’s money as far as it goes, and it’ll take us to
New York and give us a start when we get
there. It’s all yours, sir, provided only you’ll
take me along with you, and glad I am of the
chance of giving it to you.”
* “Well, Tom," said the count, after a few
minutes’ silence, “I will take the money, not
as a loan, but as a free gift from one man to
another. I don’t know that I shall ever be
able to make you any return for it. But we
will go to America, where all men are equal,
and you and I will be friends. We have done
with master and servant. If I meet with any
good fortune there you shall share it as I now
share yours. Though, to tell the truth, I think
it much more probable that you will make a
living there than that I will, for you can turn
your hand to anything, whereas I am abso
lutely good for nothing.”
“We can do better together, sir, than what
either of us could alone,” returned Tom, with
cheerful confidence. “It’s just as easy mak
ing money as it is spending it, though at first
it may not come in quite so fast as it used to
go out, but to make up for that there’s more
fun in making ten dollars than in spending a
hundred. What you want, sir, is to get a place
as corresponding secretary of a corporation,
or foreign clerk to a bank, or maybe you’ll get
into politics, and then there’s no telling where
you’ll stop. And you’ve met American swells
enough in Europe to give you all the lift yon
need.”
“People who are very obliging when one is
rich are not always the same when they know
that one is poor," Fedovsky replied, with a
touch of the worldly wisdom which he has al
ready beginning to feel would be required in his
future career^ “but we’ll try everything, and
perhaps something may turn up a success. I
shouldn’t wonder if Mr. Willis could give me
some good letters of introduction to New
York people. It might be worth while to ask
him.” ...
“Begging your pardon, sir, before you do
that l’a like to ask^ou a question,” said Tom,
with a peculiarly sagacious look. “This even
ing, a little while after you went out, I was
looking out of the window, and I saw you
passing by arm in arm with a gentleman with
a brown mustache. Was that your Mr. Wil
lis?”
“Yes.”
“And do you remember my telling you about
a chap in New York, who kept a place on
Fourth street and did me out of some money?”
“Well, what of it?”
"And that I had seen somebody here that
put me in mind of him, only he’d shaved off
his beard and was got up in swell style?”
“You don’t mean to say ”
“I mean to say that your Mr. Willis is the
man I’m talking about! I’ll bet a napoleon to
a franc that he’s my swindler, and I wouldn’t
be surprised, sir, if he was after you for a big
haul; and?if so, no one will be sorrier than he
to hear the news in them letters of yours!”
This suggestion was so bewildering to Fe
dovsky that, for several moments, he was un
able to make any reply to it.
“Its preposterous and incredible,” he ex
claimed at last. “You have made a mistake,
depend upon it. Why, Willis from the very
first advised me to let gambling alone. Be
sides ”
“It’s natural he should want to keep you out
of the Casino so that he might get all you had
to throw away for himself. Those fellows
spot a man and find out all about him before
they speak to him. And then they offer to in
troduce him to some very nice people, friends
of theirs; and you go to a house and meet a
gang, and then one of ’em proposes a little
game of cards, and yon are agreeable, of course;
and at first you win; but after a while the
stakes are raised a bit, and then you lose; and
you’re lucky if you get away with a penny in
your pocket.”
Tom had so accurately described the actual
course of events that Fedovsky could not help
feeling staggered for an instant; but he recov
ered himself promptly.
“The thing is impossible,” he replied em
phatically. “And I will tell you the reason.
Mr. Willis offered to introduce me to a lady
“Ah! that’s what I thought—it’s the regular
game!” muttered Tom, shaking his head.
“And this lady," continued the other with a
severe glance, “turned out to be some one
whom I already knew, but had lost sight of for
several years—a lady for whom I feel the high
est regard and affection. I don’t suppose you
will tell me that she is a partner of swindlers?
But it was at her house that I spent the even
ing; and it was there that I lost at cards—en
tirely by my own fault and volition—all the
money I happened to have with me. You
have been misled by some accidental resem
blance.”
“Well, sir, if you know the lady, and can
answer for her, of course I’ve nothing to say
to the contrary,” Tom replied. “But that
don’t prove that Willis ain’t my man. He may
have taken in the lady, too. Anyway, it
might be just as well if you don’t ask him to
give you letters of introduction. He’s only
somebody you picked up in a gambling town,
after all.”
Fedovsky made no promise; but he followed
his valet’s counsel nevertheless. And the
more he thought over what has passed between
them, the less comfortable did he feel. Except
that it was at Vera’s house that the episode of
the game of poker had taken place, he would
have had little difficulty in accepting Tom’s
theory. That fact was his only security; but
was even that conclusive? He had seen or
heard nothing of Vera for seven years. He
knew that she had married a thief. As re
garded her subsequent marriage with the
prinoe he had only her'own word'for fu She
had spoken to him of some trouble—some
mysterious bondage—under which she was
suffering, and from which she even feared to
escape. Might not this bondage involve some
thing of a criminal nature? Indeed, could it
be anything essentially innocent and harmless?
Might not Willis have acquired some hold over
her whereby he could compel her to assist him
to his schemes of plunder? And then, what-
was the meaning of her strange behaviorfted
of the word “beware” that one had conveyed
to him? Was she trying to protect him from
a danger which she did not venture more fully
to explain?
These reflections made him very uneasy, and
he made up his mind to go to her the next
day, open his mind to her freely; and prevail
upon her, if his surmises were correct, to leave
it all and accompany him to America. Bat
fate was too nimble for him. When he went
to her house the next day he found it elo
and learned that- the Princess Jolgorouki
left town early that morning, and'had ap
pointed wrmrne for her return. Neithea^Willia
no^Bgnor Aid Mme. Striigello Arf to
fo#d anywhdre j. JB%uiry n
they,- too, hacKgdhq away, no one
whither. It had an unpleasant look; but Fed-
ovsky kept his misgivings to himself.
CHAPTER VHI.
About a month after the incidents recorded
in the last chapter, two passengers from Eu
rope by an Antwerp steamer landed in New
York. One of them was a young and well-
bnilt man, a little above the medium height,
w.th soft, very dark hair, curling over his
head, a pale but healthy complexion, dark
brown eyes, and rather high cheek bones. He
was a handsome man, or, perhaps, he would
be better described as fine-looking; there was
a composed manliness in his expression very
different from the self-satisfied and conscious
air of a youth who prides himself upon regular
features and a waxed mustache. This gentle
man’s upper lip was clean shaven, but the
lines of his mouth were firm and well set, and
needed no veil to enhance or disguise them.
He was dressed in a plain but well-cut suit of
tweed, with a traveling cap of the same mate
rial; he carried a leather valise in one hand
and a stout walking stick in the other. At the
moment we first see him he was standing on
one of the ferryboats that play between New
Jersey and New York, and he was eyeing with
much attentiveness the aspect of the great city
toward which the boat was carrying him.
His companion was another type of man al
together. He was two or three inches shorter
than the other, and broad in the shoulders; his
hair was cropped short, and was slightly griz
zled; he wore a short stiff whisker on either
side of his broad, good-humored and intelligent
face, and he was dressed in a cutaway coat of
dark material and a pair of drab, close-fitting
trousers. He, too, carried a valise and a bun
dle of canes, umbrellas and shawls. He occa
sionally pointed to some prominent building or
other object in the city, and spoke a few words
to the dark-haired gentleman.
“That there Brooklyn bridge must be pretty
nigh finished by this time," he remarked.
“But we can’t see it from here. It’s on the
other side of the island.”
“Where is the Fifth Avenue Hotel?” the
other inquired.
“Oh, that’s away off—miles up. We can go
there by the elevated road; it’s running now,
I’m told. But there ain’t no hurry, sir; our
trunks won’t get up under two or three hours,
and, being a fine day, we can walk and take a
look at the town. We caa send our valises
ahead by the express.”
"That will suit ma capitally. The Fifth Av
enue Hotel is the one to stop at, is it?”
“Yes, sir. That’s where the swells go.
“We mustn’t forget economy, Tom. The
better we live, the shorter our time will he.
We came over in the steerage, and it’s hardly
consistent to go from there to the best hotel in
New York.”
“Never mind how we came over, sir; that’s
over and done with. No one can tell from the
look of os that we didn’t take the first cabin,
and sleep in the captain's berth. This country
is like the others—if you want to get on you’ve
got to put your best foot foremost. What you
want is to go where you’ll meet the gentlemen
that you used to hob-nob with on the other
side. When they see you looking in good
shape, and living in style, they’ll think noth
ing is too good for you, and they’ll be having
you to dinner and to the clubs, and it won’t
cost you nothing. Then you let ’em know that
you’re tired of loafing, and are on the lookout
for something to do, and a dozen of ’em will
offer you any job you want; and you’ll be rich
again in good earnest before you know it. But
if you was to put up at a fourth-rate house,
and go slouching about in a shop suit of
clothes, you might Lave more cask in yonr
pocket, bat it wouldn’t carry you a quarter as
far. They’d see you was down on your luck,
and they’d give you a wide berth. No, no,
sir; cheek is tne thing to carry yon through in
New York; they may talk about their demo
cratic institutions, bat they ain’t mnch use to
a man unless he knows how to take his own
part and keep a stiff upper lip.”
“I have every confidence in your wisdom,
Tom,” replied the other with a smile; “but I
have great doubts as to my own fitness to
make much of a show on nothing. I’m afraid
everybody will see through me at the first
glance. They will know by some sort of in
stinct that our total joint capital is $1,900, and
if we spend only $10 a day—and I don’t see,
on yonr system, how we can possibly spend
less—that will all be gone in six months. But
I fancy it will be safer to say that three months
will see theqnd of it.” _ „ . ,
“Well, sir, and plenty of time, too,” re
turned Tom, with undiminished optimism. “If
we can’t start a fortune in three months in New
York city, I’ll eat my hatl”
With this the ferryboat arrived at its dock
and the passengers walked ashore. Having
disposed of their valises, they passed through
the clamorous line of hack drivers, crossed a
dirty and track-crowded street, and, turning
into a narrower street running eastwards, soon
found themselves on Broadway, an eighth of a
mile or thereabouts below Printing House
square. It was a day late in February, fine
and cold. There had been a snow the day
previous and the remains of it were still in the
gutters, though the sidewalks were clean. The
time was high noon and both sides of Broad
way were filled with an active and hurrying
crowd of people, while the roadway was noisy
with doable lines of vehicles going in opposite
directions. The horse railroad had not been
laid down at this epoch. The shops, with
their broad plate-glass windows and numerous
signs, had a lively and prosperous appearance ;
trade seemed to be thriving. It was a very dif
ferent place from Antwerp, or, indeed, from
any other city that the dark-haired traveler had
seen. The spectacle was bewildering, but, at
the same time, a stimulating one. Every one
seemed to be so intent upon business, and in
such haste to transact it, that the on-looker
felt as if he too must have something of great
and immediate importance to attend to; and
insensibly quickened his pace for that pur
se. The coutagion was in the air, and,
:ethe frosty temperature, no one could be
insensible to it. So the two companions
pressed along at a swinging gait, and very soon
found themselves abreast of the central post-
office. Here the younger man came to a halt.
‘I don’t know,” said he, “what we are in
such a hurry about. We want to see the
place, not to run through it; and besides, I am
getting very hungry. Let us find a restaurant
and get something to eat.”
“We haven’t far to go for that,” the other
replied. “Here’s the Astor House right behind
us;" and he pointed to a large building of
smooth, gray stone, with a flight of steps lead
ing up to the entrance. People were constantly
ascending these stops, and the swinging doors
were in continual motion. Entering with the
others, the travelers found themselves in a rec
tangular hall with a staircase on each side of it
and a double doorway at the further end,
through which appeared a vision of eatables
and eaters. They proceeded in that direction
and went into a huge circular saloon with a
glass roof. Round the walls were prolonged
tables or counters, following the curvature of
the room, and in the. center was a ring table
some twenty feet or more in diameter, inside
of which was a group of servers busUy engaged
in helping the guests, who surrounded the outer
circumference, to the viands they ordered.
The wall tables were similarly served and pat
ronized, and the floor space was thronged with
people waiting for a vacant seat, and was
treaded in all directions by waiters carrying or
ders from one part of the saloon to the other.
It waR a confused and tumultuous scene, and
seemed suited to anything rather than to so
grave and deliberate a ceremony as the eating
of dinner. Yet It was here that thousands of
New York business men dined, or, at any rate,
lunched; and, so long as the food was good,
never dreamed of taking exception to the hub
bub amidst which it was served or to the haste
with which it was gulped down. But certainly
the quantity of eating material exposed to view,
and the celerity with which it vanished, were
alike remarkable. A huge, mounted mass of
roast ribs of beef was placed upon the counter,
the carver whetted his knife, a score of waiters
presented plates, the knife descended, and lo!
the beef was naught but a bare bone, and an
other similar mountain arose in its place.
Soups of all kindrattSed i& lakes for aminute
or two, and theit the empty vats had to he re
filled. Chickens and such small deer ' were
swallowed up ere you could say “I want!”
Acres of vegetables emerged into daylight one
instant and were then engulfed. Pie of apple,
mince and pumpkin, sufficient to cover a circle
of thirty feet in diameter, was devoured in less
than half aamany minutes. Oysters were con
sumed by the whbie bed at a time. Coffee, ice
water and beer rolled onward in endless waves
and fell into the ever-yawning human abyss.
It was an impressive, and indeed almost a sol
emn sight; the eatables and drinkables were
so good, they were annihilated so rapidly, and
in the vast majority of cases they did to much
barm to those who bolted them. But this is a
free country, and every American citizen has
a right to make himself the slave of dyspepsia. .
Our two friends contemplated this spectacle i
for a while inactively; in fact they - could not
do otherwise, inasmuch as no places were va-
oant for them to sit-dsern. Bat by .And by a
couple of merchants descended frotn~the stools
on whii ‘
in consumed Sluder an hour r SfJljSSfrf<h(d
themselves away with whatapeedthey
‘might to the cigar stand in the doorwgy, where
they provided themselves with a rank cigar
apiece to counteract the pangs of their indi
gestion. The newly disembarked strangers
took their places, which were not immediately
adjoining each other, but were separated by a
seat occupied by a plethoric German, who was
shoveling into himself the contents of a large
dish of corned beef and cabbage, washed down
by a bottle of Milwaukee lager.
By the time they had been served with their
order the Germ an-had cleaned np the last scrap
of cabbage from his plate and had drained the
last drop of his Milwaukee lager. As he left
his stool a successor promptly popped into it
in the shape of a brisk and enterprising-looking
young fellow with his silk hat tilted back from
his forehead and an evident determination to
be back at his offiee in the shortest time on
record.
“Now, Jim,” he said to the capable Hiber
nian in white dock who officiated on the other
side of the ooun^r at that point, “yon’ve got
to jump if yonflpant that quarter. I’ve got
jnst three minntAT Boiled mutton, caper sauce,
mashed potatoes, dressed salad, mince pie,
cheese, cap of coffee. Look sharp, now!”
“All right, ML Vanderblick,” replied he of
the white garmdRfcr, and he called out part of
the order to one of the errant servitors, filled
the rest himself from the materials at his dis
posal, and succeeded in setting the complete
repast before his guest in a few seconds under
one minute. Mr. Vanderblick was in the very
act of opening a short, sharp and decisive cam
paign when he was arrested by a voice at his
elbow, calling him by name and asking him
how he was.
He looked around, dropped his knife, stared
at the person who had addressed him for a mo
ment, and then grasped his hand and exclaimed
with a hearty vdice, “Why, Fedovsky, old
man, how’s your health? Where did you come
from? How long have yon been in tows? Glad
to see you. How have you been since that
evening at the Cafe Anglais, eh?"
“We got here this morning,” said the Rus
sian, whom the reader, possibly, will already
have recognized.
“We? Hullo! Not married, are you?”
“He means m^sir,” put in a voice at the
other elbow. “The count always has me with
him. Tom Bolan, sir.”
“Why, to be sure. You’re the fellow that
put me into the hack and took me home that
night after the bal masque. I owe yon a turn
for that."
“Not yon, sir; you tipped me five francs at
the time, sir,” returned the valet with a broad
grin.
Well, by ginger, this is a lark!” exclaimed
Mr. Vanderblick joyously. “Look here, count,
I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Where are you
'DU
y i^i|ER 8HI
What one jsjrA'from truthful Tifs
doubted, bnt whin transpires under one’s o'
nose is gospel In this day of metempiric
sciences and beliefs we hear no longer of the
orthodox ghost—the raw-head and bloody
bones that froze the warm current of onr young
blocd. It is set down by some to he evidence
of a weak and superstitions nature to incline
spiritualism. If snch will explain upon any
other ground the events which I propose to
relate, he will have the thanks of all concerned.
We hear tales of the supernatural located be
yond onr ken or reach, and we give them, if
not outright denial, at least the benefit of a
doubt; but this story I have to tell happened
in onr midst in Southern Georgia, in a little
town which yon could locate at once if I should
give yon its name. I could give yon also the
real names of the actors, bnt who wants to
drag the shortcomings of one’s friends before
the pnblic? It is very pleasant to gossip onr
theme socially, bnt let ns draw the line there.
Think of the state of society if that kind of
thing were tolerated; and when it comes to
laying bare one’s co jstitntional peculiarities,
who shall cast the first stone?
In this little town of Wilford, with its streets
outlined by green trees in which the birds
built their nests and raised their familes with
out let or hindrance from the small boy; where
the cows grazed peacefully at will on the bits
of grass springing luxuriantly here and there;
where pigs held conventions, and goats roamed
at large; where children were really children
and grown people were jnst as kind, social,
unpretentious and inquisitive as people always
are in towns of that class, Mrs. Russell lived
with her two sons and daughter. I said her
two sons lived; one really lived and the other
lived by proxy—his widow represented him.
In reply to an invitation from the daughter to
make her a visit, I was set down at the sta
tion one lovely evening in October. I found
myself at once in the exuberant embrace pecu
liar to school girls, as a voice poured forth a
flood of apology, out of which I fished such
bits of information as this: Walter was the
dearest boy and would have come with her,
but his watch m’ssed time, and she was just
too awfully sorry, and I was the dearest girl,
etc. We had walked quite through the sleepy
little town, been stared at kindly bnt inquir
ingly by every one we met, when we at last
stood before the Russell homestead.
A quaint old house it was, lifted high above
the street by a grassy terrace, at the foot of
which a stone wall outlined the street. On the
other side the river lay bland and smiling, into
which the sun was slowly dropping, reddening
the water, the bending sky, the beautiful
clouds. I stood upon the stone steps leading
np to the iron gate drinking in the beanty of
the scene until, intoxicated, I was beginning to
uB lost to surroundings; for stretching away
into infinitude the hills of Beulah seemed to
lie just beyond the mountain of tinted snow.
“Has’nt society taken the romance out of
you yet?” asked Belle.
“1 was thinking how truly the Romans
cangbt the spirit of beanty in their definition
of it, 'multitude in unity’.” I replied.
“I was thinking we ought to go forward and
meet mama the stately, and Walter the re
morseful.”
Mrs. Russell was an admirable representa
tive of ante-bellum aristocracy; a woman of
decided opinions and a firm will to back them,
as the square jaw and straight mouth testified.
She gave me a greeting more cordial than ex
pected, and as Walter made apology for appa
rent discourtesy, a slim little figure draped in
unrelieved black appeared at the open door—a
pretty dark haired woman who won your heart
on first sight by her tender appealing eyes and
sweet tentative voice, like a canary bird just
beginning to sing.
“This is the wife of my son Charles,” intro
duced the mother.
I wondered who my son Charles was, and
asked the question of Belle as we laid off our
hats.
“Ida’s husband, of course. Mama never
uses the term widow; she says marriage is for
eternity,” she explained.
“Cela depend. How about uncongenial
ones?”
“Ask her. I don’t plunge into water be
yond my depth. I let hypnotism, metemphy-
schosis, spiritualism and the like severely
alone. I am as orthodox as ever Lather conld
desire. Bat I have an opportunity of investi
gating spiritual phenomena in my immediate
neighborhood if I liked.”
“A professional trickster?”
“So far from it that the girl herself protests
against an exhibition of her powers, both on
account q£hsi .abhorrence of notoriety, and
her relaxed condition after a seance. She is
not a trance medium, but she has simply the
power of clairvoyance and prophecy."
As we sat on the gallery the next morning,
with the mellow sunshine falling around us,
indulging in that phase of communion of spirit
known only to re-united schoolmates, Walter
and Ida passed oat on their way to the river.
He carried himself with the free grace of per
fect health and thorough training. A familiar
bough swept his light hat from his head. Bra-
no, following his master, immediately seized
and made off with it. Then what a royal chase
they had!
“Walter is so good to her,” said Belle, tak
ing up my thread of thought. “She was
crashed, as we all were, by the death of Charles
a year ago. For months she was inconsolable,
and seemed to take no pleasure in any society
except that of Walter. And how devoted he
is! I suppose she feels almost as if he were
Charles himself. Mamma thinks their affec
tion so beautiful.”
“I suppose she will marry again.”
If I had advanced the probability of her com
mitting murder or theft Belle could not have
looked more aghast.
“Marry! Never! Her heart is in the grave
of her husband. Besides, mamma would never
forgive her. Charles was her idol She would
not allow Ida to return to her own home after
his death, and it is very sweet of her to stay
with us.”
“It is fortunate you do not live in India.
With what gusto you would perform suttee.”
“Yon don’t think one ought to marry more
than once?”
Any number of times—legally.”
I beseech yon not to air such rank heresy
in this house unless yon wish to emulate Sam
son. Yon would offend mamma beyond re
demption. In woman in general, and Ida in
particular, she would esteem such an act a mild
form of bigamy.”
As she spoke a young girl came over the stile
across the lawn, her flaming white dress and
broad morning hat making a picturesque addi
tion to the picture framed in by the clustering
vines.
“Julia Howard, the clairvoyant,” said Belle
in the same tone in which she would have said
a ghost. “She is our nearest neighbor, you
see, and is one of the sweetest girls in the
world.”
Her face certainly endorsed the description.
Tbere was no special perfection of face in the
whole—the hair was brown, the nose straight,
the mouth sensitive; but the eyes—brown, lu
minous, shining like stars away down in the
water, introspective, magnetic—they held me
at once. By that law that operates no less
surely in the spiritual than in the physical
world, she drew me to her. I felt this as soon
as my eyes met hers. She came forward to
meet me as in the renewal rather than the be
ginning of an acquaintance.
“We shall be friends,” she said as our hands
met.
Expecting the oracle of Delphi, I was not
prepared for conventionalities.
“Yes, I seem to have known you before—in
a previous state of existence perhaps; who
knows?” I said.
“I have an affinity for yon,” she returned,
smiling.
“And it is quite pleasant to meet one who
understands this intuitively. To explain it is
like having to show up the point in one’s own
pun."
“Perhaps I am mediumistic.”
“You are. Persons affect me differently.
Some exhaust me; from others 1 draw inspira
tion. Now you affect me like a draught of
wine.”
When she had gone, Bell said:
“Nora, you have certainly made a conquest."
“Affinity,” I explained.
“I never saw her so unreserved before.”
n 8tudy psychology. But how dfif she dis
cover her power?”
“She did not discover it; i$ grew with her
growth and strengthened with her years. She
‘saw things,' as her nurse expressed it. When
they lived in A and Julia was about six
years old, Bhe was observed to be playing about
the yard one day in great glee as if with an
other child. This continued for two or three
days, when, on being asked with whom she
was playing, she replied: “The little girl with
the white apron. Don’t you see her?” One
morning she ran to her mother in a passion of
grief declaring that the little girl was gone—
gone away for good—the little girl with the
white apron—she was gone right around the
comer. In vain was the premises searched.
No child was found—none had been seen; but,
strange to say, the house was soon after
stopping, by the
‘I am on my
tel," said Fedovj
“Stupid hole
a day or two. I
here you com!
ay?”
to the Fifth Avenue Ho-
you something better in
t, look here, when we leave
with me to the office, and
I’ll fix np things there in short order. Then
we’ll take the L up town, and I’ll pnt you down
for a fortnight at the club. By the way, how
long do yon mean to stay here?”
“Several months; perhaps longer.”
“That’s all right. Well, we’ll have an after
noon at the club and meet Borne of the boys
there. I guess there are two or throe that you
met on the other side; and then we’ll adjourn
to Del’s and have a feed. After that there’s
any theatre yon like, or anything else for that
matter. What do you say? Come onl”
The speaker had by this time finished his
lunch, and though his two friends were still in
the sarlier stages of theirs, they also got down
from the’r stools. Tom, at his own suggestion,
was dispatched up town to the hotel to await
the arrival of the baggage and engage the
rooms, and Fedovsky and Mr. Vanderblick
were left to themselves. The latter produced
a cigar case containing some huge cigars, very
fat in the middle and tapering at both ends,
one of which he insisted upon his friend taking,
while he stuck another in the comer of his own
month. He then led the way to the street, Fe
dovsky following, with some interior misgiv
ings, which Tom’s covert wink at parting had
failed entirely to dissipate. Evidently Vander
blick imagined that he had come to America to
spend money and enjoy himself; and it might
become necessary, some time or other, to have
a mortifying explanation on the subject.
[to be continued.]
i Budget]
Together they walked on a bright mooi
Two hearts beating quickly and eyes shli
He with a face that was manly and bold.
She with her tresses of glimmering gold.
Talking and planning what things shall be done,
When came the day tney two shall be one;
Calmly the gray moon watches them now—
Softly caresses and touches each brow.
‘‘I wonder," she said, with Innocent guile,
‘ ‘ g smile,
‘Be angry I No matter whatever yon do,
1 never Indeed could be angry with yon.
“Although.” and he looked In her face flashing red,
“I’ll scold if yon wish It,” he roguishly said.
“I don’t like scolding, especially from men;
I hope yon won’t dolt,” she answered; “but then
If ever I need It,” she lowered her head,
“I hope that you kindly will cheequa me Instead.”
In the front parlor, 11 p. m.—Ethel—“Harry
called to-night, papa. He was too witty for
anything and all smiles.” Papa—“Yes; I can
smell the smiles yet.”
• « * Premature decline of power in
either sex, however induced speedily and per
manently cured. Book lor 10 cents in stamps.
World’s Dispensary Medical Association, 603
Main street, Buffalo, N. Y.
A sentence from the lately published letters
of Lady Mary Wortley Montague: “I own I
enjoy vast delights in the follies of mankind,
and, God be praised, that is an inexhaustible
source of enjoyment.”
I have been a{i annual sufferer from Hay
Fever for 40 years. It recurring about Aug.
20th each year. For several summers I have
used Ely’s Cieam Balm with excellent results.
I am free from any Asthmatic symptoms. I
hope many sufferers will be induced to try the
remedy. GEORGE EARP, Baltimore, Md.
I have been afflicted with Hay Fever from
early in August until frost. My eyes would
run a stream of water and I sneezed contin
ually. I was advised to use Ely’s Cream
Balm. It has worked like a charm and I can
say I an entirely cured.
Mrs. F, ME LINE JOHNSON, Chester, CL
“Does the Screamer indorse Mush Jones for
Congress?” asked one gentleman of another in
inquiring about the political situation of a cer
tain town.
‘Oh, yes,” was the reply, “the paper in
dorses him. It’s a sort of mutual affair.”
“How’s that?”
“Why, you see, the paper indorses Jones
and Jones indorses for the paper.”
And there are a good many “independent”
newspapers ran about the same way."
Consumption, Scrofula, General Debility,
Wasting Disease of Children, Chronic Coughs
and Bronchitis, can be cured by the use of
Ssott’s Emulsion oi Pure Cod Liver Oil with
Hypophosphites. Prominent physicians use it
and testify to its great value. Please read the
following: “I us8d Scott’s Emulsion for an
obstinate Cough with Hemorrhage, Loss of
Appetito, Emaciation, sleeplesness, &s. All of
these have now left, and I believe your Emol-
sion has saved a case of well developed Con
sumption.”—T. J. Findley, M. D., Lone Star,
Texas. _
Jongs thinks his girl the pride ol earth—
He pictures her In glowing colors
And loves her lor her modest worth—
Said to be thirty thousand dollars.
Wretched, !■*£■*, .. -h
•Are those whom a confirmed tendency to bU- -
iousness, subject to the various and change
ful symptoms indicative of liver complaint.
Nausea, sick headache, constipation, flnred
tongue, an unpleasant breath, a dull or sharp
pain in the neighborhood of the affected or
gan, impurity of the blood and loss of appe
tite, signalize it as one of the most distress
ing as it is one of the most common, of
maladies. There is, however, a benign spe T
cific for the disease and all its unpleasant
manifestations. It is tho concurrent testi
mony ol the public and the medical profes
sion, that Hostetler’s Stomach Bitters is a
medicine which achieves results s]iecdily
felt, thorough sndlienign. Besidesrectifying
liver disorder, it invigorates the feeble, con
quers kidney and bladder complaints, ami
hastens the convalescence of those recovering
from enfeebling diseases. Moreover, it is the
grand speciiic for fever and ague.
rntt yon
her asleep
burned, and in digging the foundation for an
other the bones of a female child about that
age was found in the exact spot where JuJia
declared, the little grl had disappeared. The
(fiffid: mast hwmbe®, ibmded itheow tofoKhtteri iWa.lwM*l«M«
original house wae-hajlt, yeare-gqpeijinJact ao-j-qpre, «%• M 0 *?
long ago that no one remembered* anytmng
definite about it!
I had spent three weeks very pleasantly
with the Rnssells, when, one morning, in order
to bring in view a little island some distance
down the river, I took a field glass and looked
onL It brought something else within range
of vision—something 1 had seen, a mere speck
upon the water, but could not define. It was
a boat, and in the bow—with oars at rest and
a face while and eager with the intensity of
suspense—sat Walter Russell. His gaze was
fixed upon Ida, who sat with flashed face and
downcast eyes, a book dropping idly from
her heedless fingers. Bnt as I looked, for
one swift moment, her eyes were raised,
her lips moved, and over his face flashed
the triumphant glory of a snnbnrsL It
was a revelation to me. I dropped the
glass guiltily. I had unwittingly entered
into the arcana. Before I had recovered my
equilibrium, Belle came in to say that she had
kdaced Julia Howard to give us a seance. I
did not let her know that this wonderful girl
bad already told me with astonishing accuracy
of my past and present, and I might add fu
ture, for many things which she told me of,
have since been verified. I had been anxious
for a seance, but a reluctance amounting to
opposition, on the part of Walter, had hereto
fore prevented. After tea we sat down, Wai
te', Ida, Belle and I, and formed the regula
tiou circle by each touching a hand to the right
and left, but not touching onr own. Mrs.
Russell sat apart reading, and Julia, with head
thrown back in easy position, eyes closed, and
hands qnietly folded in her lap, swayed gently
to and fro in a rocker by my side. We all felt
a cool current passing over onr hands, and I
experienced that lightness of body—that sen
sation of going up, up, peculiar to the inhala
tion of ether, as if the spirit were seeking to
shake off its cumbersome flesh. Julia shivered
slightly and began to yawn.
“I see,” she said dreamily, and as her voice
broke the silence, Walter flashed back a look
of encouragement to Ida in answer to her ap
pealing one, and I felt her hand tremble nnder
my touch. “I see a young girl towards whom
two young men press. Neither sees the other,
though they ran side by side; there is a veil
between them; she holds ont her hands with a
smile—each thinks it is for himself. Now t.he
dark-haired one stops an instant; they are al
most within reach of the goal; the veil is rent;
he sees the other—it is his brother! He turns
away and the elder wins the pnze, but the girl
looks longingly after the dark-haired lover.”
Ida’s fingers began to grow cold under my
own, but Walter gave no sign.
“I see a marriage, a great rejoicing—then a
death; he was so young to die! But here is
the dark-haired lover again. Ah, he will be
more successful this time. What is this—a
funeral? No, a marriage; but everything is
black, black. Oh, what trouble! what clouds!
what storms!”
“What then?” It was Walter’s voice, so
ate u and hard that it startled me.
“Marriage.”
“And then?”
“Death, shrouds and coffins—two of them.”
“Oh, death of course," put in Belle, flip
pantly, “that is the end of all things. What
more natural than clouds and storms after
marriage? That outline might suit aay of us,
but to which does it apply?”
Julia’s face now assumed a look of auger.
“The eldest brother is not satisfied; he is
angry.
Ida’s hand shook convulsively; mine closed
upon it assuringly.
‘But,” persisted Belle, “is it I? Is it
Nora?”
“The girl is dark-haired ”
“That scores us out, Nora,”
“Poor girl! in her widow’s weeds and woes,
and more to come.”
“What! Ida?” exclaimed Belle, as Walter
sprang to his feet. Then the truth seemed to
burst upon her with the vividness of lightning.
“Oh,” she cried shudderingly, as one does
nnder a shower-bath, “Walter!” and stretched
out both arms to him.
Mrs. Russell laid her book down and rose to
her full height
‘This nonsense has been carried far
enough,” she said, sternly. “Miss Howard, I
scarcely expected insult in return for hospital
ity.”
“I am no more responsible for what I have
described than yon for your dreams,” Julia
answered calmly. “I am sorry to tell you dis
agreeable things.”
“Mother, remember Miss Howard is an in
vited guest,” interposed Walter, before she
could speak again.
‘And yon remember yonr dead brother.
Dare yon do this thing?” she returned.
“Dare?” his lip curled. “Yes, in the face
of heaven and earth. “Ida,” and he started
forward jnst in time to catch her light form as
p*ie fainted quite away. He bore her at once
to her own room, which happened to be next
to the parlor in which we sat, bent over her
one moment, kissed her and went ont, closing
the door, saying to me as he did so:
“Take care of her.”
My care was demonstrated by the applica
tion of all stimulants within reach. The effect
was rapid. She opened her eyes and burst
out hysterically:
“Oh, I can tell you all abont it; you won’t
think me wicked, because—because it was all
true, he did love me before—before ”
“Don’t distress yourself—you are not wicked
at all,” I said patting my arms around her.
Marry the man yon love though the heavens
fall, if there is no greater reason per contra
than that he is your brother-in-law."
All this time the battle in the next room
waxed and waned. It was Mrs. Russell’s voice
that now rose in the air, distinct and deter
mined.
“But for this absurd state of things yon
might have married Miss ” I thought I
canght my own name,—“and so have restored
the fallen fortunes of yonr hoose. If yon per
sist, as I know you will, in marrying your
brother’s wife yon must find another home
than this, where every spot is hallowed by his
memory. No wonder his ghost is indignant.
If human acts can call spirits back to earth,
his will surely come.”
“If he should,” was the bitter response, “he
might inform yon that bnt for him she would
now have been wife. But mother, with dne
respect to you, I shall certainly marry Ida. I
shall make this my home—what other have I?
And is it not my own? I shall not claim for
her a mistress’ authority, but I shall a daugh
ter’s love and consideration.”
In less than a week they were married. It
was a very quiet affair, indeed quite funereal
for, with the refinement of malice, the condi
tion of invitation exacted by Mrs. Russell of
her guests was that they should all appear in
black. This Belle told me at we were dress
ing for the marriage. “And,” she added,
“mamma requests that you should wear black
also.”
“I shall do no such thing,” I replied decid
edly. “It is a perfect shame. Just as if that
poor girl were going to commit a crime! I beg
your pardon, Belle, I must exercise my mind
this once if I die for it.”
“I think as you do, Nora, but for me there
is no appeal,” returned Belle, shaking out her
black silk. “I suppose if I had a crape dress
I should have to wear it.”
My sense of the ridiculous was fortunately
mastered by my sense of injustice when I en
tered the parlor. There sat the guests ranged
around the room with puritanical precision
and rigidity—their somber robes matched by
their doleful faces. I involuntarily looked
around for the corpse and as involuntarily
burst into a laugh. An answering gleam for a
moment flickered over the faces of some, but
as quickly died out. • As Mrs. Russell bent on
me a look of severe reproof and indignation
the door opened and Walter and Ida entered
alone. He held his chin a trifle in the air but
when he took in with a keen swift comprehen
sive glance the signification of the scene before
him, he bent for one instant to whisper some
thing to Ida, the tender import of which, the
quick flush on her face revealed.
The minister arose to meet them and in a
few solemn words made them man and wife.
The ceremony ended, Walter threw one quick
glance toward his mother. There they stood
alone—the guests waiting for the mother, the
mother immovable. Belle turned away and
hurst into tears. - With a how of dignified ac
ceptance of the situation, Walter was turning
to leave the room when I conld bear it no lon
ger. Regardless of everything but the cruelty
and injustice of the whole proceeding, I rushed
across the room and threw my arms about the
slim white figure, and from my full heart
burst the benediction:
Six months later I received a black-edged
letter from Belle.
“Nora,” she wrote, “yon know we lost poor
Walter a month ago with typhoid fever, now
"nch things can be,
4 <lay when we thought
_Jeep she suddenly opened her eyes with
a look of glad surprise and stretching ont her
LZ:cried ont joyfully, ‘Oh! Walter ’ and
died. Oh, Nora, do yon think she really saw
him?”
The Pair Type-Writer.
[Journal of Education.]
She clicks the keys
And she tinkles the bell
With a practiced ease
No tongue would tell.
Her nimble Angers fly—
And I?
WeU, I sit by
And I watch the girl
So sweet, so sby.
And my brain’s a-whlrl.
For I love her tenderly—
And she?
Well, she tinkles the beU
And she clicks the keys,
And If I should teU
My love, she’d freeze
My blood with a scornful “Top!”
Eheut
‘What is more lovely than a peaceful grand
mother?” asks an exchange. Her granddaugh
ter. If this is not the right answer, we give it
up-
A novel under the curious name of “The
Wasp" is just published. It must have a bad
ending. _
A seaside letter tells of bathing suits that fit
like the paint on a board.
Pug dogs are going out of fashion, and their
naturally sad expression is deepening.
He had evidently studied history.
She—“Freddie, how often have I told you not
to play with your soldiers on Sunday?”
He—“Yes; but, mamma, this is a religious
war.”
The Bravest Battle.
[Josquln Miller.]
The bravest battle that ever was fought,
8haU I tell you where and when?
n the maps of the world ’ ' ” “"
’Twas fought by the moti
Ou the maps of the world you will find it not;
._ . ... lt £ e
not with cannon or battle-shot,
hers of men.
Nav, no
With sword or nobler pen;
Nay, not with eloquent word or thought
From mouths of wonderful men!
But deep In a walled-up woman’s heart,
Of woman that would not yield,
But bravely, silently bore her part—
Lo. there Is that battle Held I
No marshaling troop, no bivouac song,
No banner to gleam and wave;
Bnt oh 1 these battles! they last so long—
From babyhood to the grave.
’ said
“What I dislike about the large hotels,’
Miss Culture, “is their gregariousnes.”
“Well,” responded the Chicago maiden,
rather bewildered, “those fancy puddings never
did agree with me either.”
“This base ball most be dreadful! Little Willie
jnst now confessed to that he had actually stole
a base, and now, I suppose, he is going to try
and steal another one!”
“Swim? Not a bit, stranger, bnt I rtek on if
ye’d drap me down in the middle of this hyar
river, I’d reach land ’theughtmnch diffikeltv.”
“Why, how so?”
“Wall, I carcalate I’d go right to the bot
tom.”
Jack Blunt once loved a maid whose hair
With terra cotta might compare.
“My heart beats bat for yon,” he said,
“No matter if yonr hair Is red—
With me the color has no heft;”
And he got left"
Ueorge Smoothly later came to woo.
Said he, with pasilon tender, true,
“I love yon, and all that Is yon;
Those locks of dainty, golden hair.
The sunlight kissed and Angered there—
I’d give my all for one wee carL"
He got the girl.
“Do yon know what Bill Jones said about
you the other day? asked a Texan of an ac
quaintance.
“No; can’t say that I do.”
“He said that you are the dumdest liar he
ever came across.”
“He did? He said that?”
“He jest did.”
“An’ he never met me only jest a little while
in Tompkins’ saloon last Saturday."
“That’s all, I reckon.”
“Great Scott! I wish he could have heard me
some time when I was tryin’.”
“Ma, de fiziology say yer dat de human body
am imposed of free-fourth watah.”
“Waal, yo’ bettah mosey off to school, an’
git outen dat hot sun, ur fus ting yo’ know yo’
be vaporatin’.”
“I say,” said the smart little son of a coun
try printer who had just started a local paper,
as he entered a shop in the town, “do you keep
knives?” “Oh, yes,” responded the shopkeep
er, “we’ve kept them for years!” “Well,”
remarked the boy starting from the door, “you
ought to advertise, and then you wouldn’t keep
’em so long."
FITS: All Fits stopped free by Dr. Klines’
Great Nerve Restorer. No Fits after first day’s
use. Marvelous cures. Treatise and 2.00 trial
bottle free to Fit cases. Send to Dr. Kline,
931 Atch St. Phila. Pa.
“God bless yon Ida, and make yon happy.
I know He will.”
By a brave effort she kept back the tears as
she returned my caress, but she did not speak.
Walter touched my lips gratefully with his
own saying:
“God b.ess yon."
Of course after such an overt act I could not
remain longer a guest of the Russell’s, so the
next morning, shaking the dust from my feet
I departed homeward.
PIEDMONT EXPOSITION,
ATLANTA, GA.—Oct. 10 to 22,1887.
The Georgia Pacific By., via Birming
ham Quickest Route.
No change of cars from Texas, Louisiana
and Mississippi to Atlanta, Ga.
One fare round trip for points west of Mis
sissippi River.
One cent per mile from Columbus, Miss.,
and intermediate points to Atlanta.
Passengers from Texas should Ree that their
tickets read via Shreveport or New Orleans
and Birmingham to Atlanta, Ga.
Mann Boudoir Sleeping Cars, New Orleans
and Shreveport to Atlanta without change.
For further information call on or address
P. F SMITH, Pass. Agt.,
34 St. Charles St.,
New Orleans, La.
ALEX. S. THWEATT, Gen. Trav. Agt.,
Birmingham,'Ala.
GEO. S. BARNUM,
Gen. Pass. Agt.
HAY FKYOCata-brH
Is an inflamed eondltlor
cf the lining membrane
of the nostrils, tear-duct!
and throat, affecting the
lungs. An acrid muene
is secreted, the discharge
is accompanied wl'h t
horning sensation. There
are severe spasms ol
sneezlDg,frequent attache
of headache, watery anc
inflamed eyes.
CREAMBALM
HAT-FEVER
A positive Cure.
A particle is applied Into each nostril and Is
agreeable. Price BO cents at Druggists: bvmaU,
registered, 60 cents. Circulars free. ELY BEOS.,
577-yr Druggists, Oprego, N. X.
aotr - radio Mlf ai -dofoi . • wif-
•rxi