About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 22, 1887)
THE SUNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 22, 1887. Fbr the Burnt SoniB., AN AMERICAN PENMAN. A Great Detective Story. FROM THE DIARY OF INSPECTOR BYRNES. BY JULIAN HAWTHOBNE. [Copyrighted 1887. All rights reserved.] CHAPTER XIL—Continued. Fedovsky could not deny that the note gave a more promising aspect to the situation, aud he consented to let matters stand over for an- other twenty-four hours. He appeared at the Vanderblicks’ at the appointed time, and was received with much cordiality. Paring dinner the conversation was chiefly between the young people—Fred Vanderblick, Sallie and the count. Fred, it appeared, had just bought the yacht formerly owned by Wel- lessley Jlrooks, and intended to go on a cruise in it during the summer. Sallie was to be one of the party, and both she and her brother ex pressed an urgent hope that Fedovsky would be of the party. The old gentleman nodded his head genially and said: “You’d better think twice before you accept, count. A yacht is pretty close quarters, and you will stand a good chance of getting pre cious tired of one another before you’re done with it.” The idea of getting tired of Sallie Vander blick was so obviously preposterous that Fe- doveky could not help thinking that Mr. Van derblick was not averse to the intimate associ ation which he aSected to depreciate. In plain words, he looked with favor upon the prospect of closer relations between Sallie and Fedov- .sky. Sallie was not the young Russian’s first love; but, as often happens with second loves, the depth and earnestness of his feeling for her was au equivalent for the magnetic passion of his entire experience. AVith her he could be happy; without her, life would be irksome. She seemed, so far as he could judge, to return his regard. If he were to ask her to be his wife, he believed that she would consent. But how cjuld he ask her? He could not honor ably do so without confessing his poverty, and, being poor, he had no right to demand that she should unite herself to him. Oa the other hand, by keeping his poverty secret he might contrive to marry her and even secure a dowry with her. But that would be the act of a com mon adventurer, and Fedovsky thought that he could not be happy unless he remained a gentleman. The difficulty of being happy without being a gentleman is one which some people never seem able to overcome; though it by no means follows that geutlemanhood has the effoct of securing them happiness. After Mrs. and Miss Vanderblick had with drawn, the banker drew up his chair. He 'passed the guest the bottle, and th6 elder man spoke as follows: “What I wanted to suggest was a little mat ter of business, which would, I think, be equal ly profitable to both of us. As I understand it, you wanted to get some insight into the methods of financial transactions. The plan I have in mind would afford you that, and also enable you to realize a Bum which—though it would perhaps be unimportant to you—would still be handsome in itself.” “The ordinary salary of a clerk is all I ex pect or desire,” put In Fedovsky, who was rendered a little uneasy by this beginning. “That is all right as a bit of romance,” re turned the financier with a smile, “but my pro posal is of a practical nature. Besides, even the part of a clerk has duties which could not be at once comprehended by an untrained mind; and any such contract between us would not, therefore, be, strictly speaking, of a busi ness character.” “What the governor means, old fellow,” in terposed Fred, with a laugh, “is that you wouldn’t be able to earn your salary. We might pay you one, for fun; but that, I take it, is not exactly what you want.” “I should certainly wish to render an equiv alent for my wages,’’ said Fedovsky, with a sinking heart; “but are you quite sure that I could not do that? There must be a begin ning to everything.” “Well, you might start as an office boy, to be s are,” said Fred, much amused, “and sweep out the rooms in the morning and put the ledgers out. But even that wouldn’t teach you iinanca. There are stories about office boys who have risen to be kings of plutocracy, 1 believe, but I guess the time for them to come true is gone by. You will have to begin at the other end, I’m afraid.” “Shall I proceed?” said the banker politely, “I’m sure I beg your pardon,” returned Fe dovsky. “There is now in the market a certain stock,” Mr. Vanderblick continued, lowering his voice and leaning forward on his elbow, “which is in excellent repute, as you will ad mit when 1 tell you that it is quoted at about IK).” Here he named the stock, which was that of a well-known railroad. “Now,” he went on, “circumstances place us in a position where we can influence a large portion of this stock. I will not trouble you with any of the technical phraseology of the street. The situ ation, in plain language, is this: We propose to bring about a heavy fall in the stock in question. In order to do that it will be nec essary to 6hake the public cofidence in it The way to shake confidence in it is to sell it— to sell it wholesale and practically without limit. When the public understand that the large holders are selling at any price they can get, they will leap to the conclusion that some- thiHg is wrong with the road. Consequently, such of them as hold any of it will get rid of it as fast as possible, and those who have none will keep clear of it. It will depreciate day by day, and we expect finally to bring it down as low as 50 and possibly much lower.” “But why should you want to depreciate it?” demanded Fedovsky, much mystified by this statement. “If, as you say, you control a large amount of it, I should think you would wish it to remain at as high a figure as possi ble.” “My a ear Fedovsky, you wouldn’t do even for an office boy,” said Fred, again laughing. “You have your A B Cs still to learn. In the first place, you must know that to sell stock it isu’t necessary to be actually possessed of it. You merely agree to deliver so much of it, at such a price, to such a person, on such a date. Of course you expect to make a profit on the trade. To do that, you must have bought it at a less price than you mean ,to sell it. The person from whom you buy it may be in the same position as you regarding actual posses sion of it. You must put up margin to cover the difference in case of loss, and ” “We need not enter into all that. Fred,” in terposed the elder, with a wave of his hand. “Count Fedovsky will understand the essential point at issue without these details, which can only be confusing at first. Of course, if I agree to sell you a thousand shares at 80 to morrow, and it should alter ten points in the interim, I must have deposited with my broker a sum sufficient to liquidate that difference; that is the ‘margin.’ But to return to what we were saying. The reason we wish to de- preci ue the stock will be shown to you in a moment. Though our action in selling has had the effect of changing the market value of the stock from 90 to 50 or less, this fall has been caused only by loss of confidence; and in order to re establish confidence, ai.d thus ap preciate the stock, all we need do is to begin buying again as largely as we did be fore. We buy when the stock has reached wha. seems likely to be the lowest point—say 40. We buy all we can get hold of at that price.' Perceiving this, the public hastens to bay also, and the stock mounts. We expect to be able to send it up to 90 again, or perhaps ICO; and then we shall have made the differ ence between the lowest quotation and the highest—say, 00 points.” “That’s business, you know,” observed Fred with a nod of the head. “But surely somebody must suffer,” Fedov sky said. “Somebody must have bought at the high price and sold at the low.” “It’s business, all the same,” Fred repeated. “You can’t deal in stocks without somebody getting the worst of it. They will do the same by jou when their turn comes.” “And now your part in the affair,” contin ued tne banker, finishing his glass of sherry and putting it down. “Let me remark, in passing, that aft I have told you is in the stri-siest confidence. H any information as to our intentions were to leak out, of course the game would be lost. We have been for some time past preparing for this operation, and I impart it to you only because I wish you to take part in it.” “What part is that, Mr. Vanderblick?” the Russian inquired. “I wioh you to join us in bearing the mar ket—I should say, in depreciating the stock,” Mr. Vanderblick replied. “We could, of course, carry on the whole enterprise our selves; but for various reasons—our cordial re gard for you and other things—we desire to associate you with us. In short, we shall gain by your co-operation, and there can be no donbt that yon will gain by ours. The bene fits will be mutual.” “Do you mean that there will be no doubt whatever as to the success of the operation?” said Fedovsky. “Can you be certain that you will be able to depreciate the stock*” “Nothing that has not already happened can be termed absolutely certain,” the banker an swered. “We cannot be absolutely certain, for examplh, that the sun will rise to-morrow. But for anything short of absolute certainty I shonld be willing to vouch. The question of margins will be merely a matter of form. In fact, I should request you to allow us to relieve you of the actual arrangement of those details —to conduct the whole affair on our own re sponsibility, only crediting you with the prof its.” “Still in case there was a loss, I should be liable for my share of it.” “Even in that very improbable contingency the amount •will be, to yon, of no serious con sequence. In fact, it is rather with a view to cementing our friendly relations, already so agreeable, than any idea of dazzling you by a financial operation, that I am moved to offer this suggestion. We wish to do what we can to promote your familiarity with our Ameri can institutions and customs. My son aud daughter will show you one side of them iu their yacht. I am only a man of business, aDd a chapter of business is all that I can con tribute. I venture to hope that you will con sider the offer in the same friendly spirit in which it is made.” Fedovsky had no reason to distrust Mr. Vanderblick, who had all the appearance and reputation of a man of wealth and position, and who had certainly treated him well. It did not occur to him to ask why he had been treated so exceptionably well—to speculate as to the possible cause of attentions so marked and persistent. And yet, had he reflected upon the matter, be might have thought it a little odd that an old and cautious financier should admit him, a comparative Btranger, to a knowl edge of an operation so secret and so vast; and should, in the same breath, as good as assure him that he would be happy to have him for a son-in-law. Had he meditated upon these facts he might have suspected that his reputed millions had something to do with it. And then he might have gone on to inquire why a millionaire like Mr. Vanderblick should so particularly desire to associate other millions with his own. The explanation might be sim ply the craving for indefinite aggrandizement that characterizes some natures. But it might also be nothing more or less than a pressing need of fresh capital. Mr. Vanderblick might be in a tight place, and might want Fedovsky to help him out of it. If Fedovsky had taken this view the satur nine humor of the situation would doubtless have struck him. But he did not take that view; he accepted Mr. Vanderblick’s words in good faith, aud he realized the magnitude of the opportunity offered him. It was not the sort of opportunity that comes to a man more than once in a lifetime. Without being called upon to do so much as put his hand in his pocket he might, within a week or so, come into the possession of hundreds of thousands of dollars—he kuew not how much. With this money he would be once more independ ent, and during the yachting trip, which would follow immediately after, he might offer his hand and heart to Sallie with a clear con science. There could scarcely be a fairer pros pect of a bright future. Unfortunately, however, the conditions were such up Fedovsky could not bring himself to accept. It was not the financial immorality of the transaction alone that influenced him; he might have swallowed Mr. Vanderblick’s as surance that, if not legitimate in the abstract, it was made so by custom. What he could not face was the possibility, remote though it was, that he might be called upon to pay up his margins. He knew that he could never pay them under any circumstances, and that fact settled the matter in his own mind—he' must decline the banker’s proposition. How to decliue it, and what the effect of his refusal would be, were other questions. Mr. Vander blick could not feel otherwise than hurt and offended; and in order to salve the old gentle man’s feelings, Fedovsky would be constrained to .acquaint him with the truth about himself. In so doing he would bid farewell, in the same breath, to fortune and to love. “Well, how does the thing sound to yon, old fellow?” said Fred, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “Will you take a hand?” “lam much obliged and flattered by your offer,” Fedovsky replied, bowing to the old banker, “and I will sleep upon it. You shall have my answer to morrow.” “I am the more pleased that yon do not an swer heedlessly,” the other replied. “Shall we join the ladies?” CHAPTER XIII. Fedovsky did not remain long after dinner. When he and the other gentlemen went into the dining-room he had no clear plan of con duct mapped out for himself. He had told the banker that be would give him an answer on the morrow, merely to gain time. Perhaps he was chiefly actuated by the consideration that if he told him the troth then and there it would prevent his seeing Sallie again, and he felt that«he could not part from her in any snch abrupt fashion. His love for her had grown imperceptibly and unconsciously, but it was none the less strong on that account, and now events promised to erect a permanent barrier between him and her he found that he had loved her greatly more than he had hitherto realized. As he entered the room and his eyes en countered hers, he suddenly resolved that she was the person to whom, and to whom alone, he was bound to make his confession. She must be avrare that he loved her. She had, perhaps, allowed herself to think that she might love him; and, therefore, he owed her everything that he had to give. But he could not disclose himself in that drawing room. They must have some degree of privacy. He sat down beside her and said: “You ride out in the park in the mornings, do you not?’’ “Yes. I never miss my horseback exercise when I can help it.” “You will be out to-morrow, then?” “I expect to be.” “At what hour?” “I usually start about ten o’clock.” “Does any one go with you?” “Only the groom, Duffy,” she answered, blushing slightly as she recognized the drift of his questions. “I shall ride in the park myself to-morrow, he said. “I shall be on the east side after ten o’clock.” She bent her head but made no audible re ply. A few minutes later Fedovsky took his departure. As he left the house he told him self that it would be a long time before he en tered it again. He walked home, to save car fare and because he would have to pay for the hire of a horse the next day. The morning was fair and mild, the begin ning of a perfect day of early summer. At ten o’clock Fedovsky was at the northern end of the park, and rode down along the eastern road at an easy gallop. About half a mile from the southern boundary he saw a lady ad vancing toward him at a canter. He reined in his horse, and, as she drew near, he lifted his hat and wheeled about to accompany her. A ride on horseback is often selected in fic tion as the miseen scene of a lovers’ meeting or avowal of passion. In the case ol explanations of a delicate and embarrassing character it is open to certain practical drawbacks. The horses do not always enter into the situation, and, by their unforeseen deviations aud cari- coles, sometimes interrupt a sentence at an in convenient point. U Fedovsky was sensible of this difficulty he was too much in earnest to be overcome by it, and Sallie, if she missed a word or two here and there, paid such close attention to what he said that the gist of it by no means escaped her. “I wished to speak to yon alone, Miss Sal lie,” he said, “because I have to bid you fare well, and I could not do that with other people looking on.” “Good-bye—in what sense?” Sallie asked, startled by she WM-aa 1 Russia?”^ “No; and I may not even leave New York. But I cannot see you any more.” “What do you mean, Count Fedovsky?” “I mean what is in no respect to my credit or advantage. You know that I have the rep utation of being a very rich man. I was rich six months ago. Bnt a few weeks before I sailed for New York I was ruined—partly by folly of my own and partly by the action of the Russian government, which confiscated my estates. I landed here with only a few thousand dollars. I have been trying, since I came here, to find some way to earn a living and support myself. I have not denied the re ports of my wealth, and, iu that negative way, I have encouraged them. I intended no dis honesty by that, but only to maintain a posi tion from which I could more readily take ad vantage of opportunities. But it was dishon est, and the reason I know it is that it has given me the opportunity to know and to love yon. I do love you, honestly and with all my heart; but I have approached you under false pretenses, and perhaps I shall have caused you unhappiness." He stopped and they rode on for a few mo menta in silence. Then Sallie slowly turned her bead and looked at him. “Am I the first woman you have loved?” she asked. “No; there was one other, eight years ago, replied he. She touched her horse with the whip and they galloped on for a hundred yards. Then she drew her rein, and said; “Well, I have never cared for any one before. You are the first, Count Fedovsky.” The young man’s face flashed red and his eyes kindled. “I can’t tell you that I’m sorry,” he said, at length. “I can’t feel an atom of unhappiness in mel I have misled you and others; I can no longer visit yon; I have dis turbed your peace of mind; and yet I am only happy because you love mel But I can do something—I can do everything—now! feel the strength for it I will not lose you!” “I am happy, tool” she said, quickly; and at the same moment the tears gathered in her eyes and her lips trembled. They rode on side by side. Fedovsky was so deeply moved that he could not speak. He almost longed for the ride to be at an end, in order that he might grapple with his poverty and conquer it. “Your family will not take this as you have dene,” he said at last. “You have not told them, have you?” “Not yet.” “Well, I will tell them. And I will tell them that we love each other, too.” “There can be no engagement between ns,” said Fedovsky. “I have no right to ask or allow that. You must promise nothing.” “A promise is nothing in itself,” she repli ed. “There would be no good in my keeping a promise that I wished to break, and no need of my making one that I cannot help keeping. It is all iD our hearts.” It will be very hard not to meet you—or hear from you,” said Fedovsky, after an id* terval. “Would you like to have me leave New York?” “No, stay here if you can. I had rather not see you of my own free will than not be able to do it, and I will not write to you, ei ther,” she added. “Myfather would notallow it, and I do not wish to disobey him, or de ceive him. I shall only think of you—nothing more than that; but that will be everything.” “But it may be a long time,” he said. ’“How long will you wait?” “As long as I live,” Sallie answered. They were now at the upper end of the park. By a common , impulse they both reined in their horses. “You shall not wait as long as that,” Fe dovsky said. “Do not be anxious,” she returned. “We love each other. Let us part here. Good-bye, my love.” She stretched out her right hand, from which she had removed her glove. He took it and clasped it strongly. He relinquished it abruptly, turned his horse, and rode away. It all passed in a moment but the effect upon both of them was visible. As the young Rus sian passed Duffy, the groom, the latter stared at the strange expression of his face, which looked at him without seeing him. As for Sallie, she drew down her veil and moved on without turning her head. Fedovsky rode back to the livery stable and left his horse there. Then he walked to the hotel, where Tom had his valise ready packed in preparation for their departure. It had been arranged that they were to be driven to the Grand Central railway station in the hotel stage and left there, as if on their way to some place out of town. The trunks were to remain at the hotel until he either returned or sent for them, and, meanwhile, with an impulse to be rid once for all of every mortgage on the past, he paid his bill, in the face of Tom’s pro tests, and off they went. Where they would bring up was a question that Fedovsky could not have answered. In his visit to the slums of New York he had not been given an opportunity to examine the abid ing-places of that class of persons who do not combine rascality with poverty. Such places are not a stimulating spectacle; they are merely dull and depressing, and are consequently not recommended to the curiosity of sensation- hunters. But to those who are compelled to occupy them; they are not void of a certain interest and importance; and now that the young Russian’s lot was to be cast tn those regions, he found his imaginations awake. Tom’s early experiences of the city proved of convenience at this juncture. He knew of the existence of 25-cent hotels and where they were to be found. To one of these they must needs go; for the liquidation of their hotel-bill had reduced their capital to a figure scarcely worth mentioning. They could lodge at the hotel for two and a half dollars per week; their board would probably cost them double that; and this divisor would go into their dividend a very limited number of times indeed. Star vation is a bard road, and some people are Inclined to pooh pooh it altogether; but it is apt to loom large before the eyes of those who can calculate on their fingers the number of days to elapse before (barringa stroke of good lnok) their means of buying anything to eat will have been exhausted. Bnt, of course, Fedovsky had no idea of starving; he meant to make a fortune, marry Sallie, and live hap py ever after. And he was going to begin im mediately! [to be continued.] County and Other Fairs. A correspondent of the Macon Telegraph says that Sparta, Ga., is all aglow on the sub ject of a county fair, and that—“not to be out done by Atlanta or Macon—the solid fanners of Hancock county have just put their heads together and are now arranging for an exhibit that will take the wind out of the sails of both these villages.” One of the best among the many indications of the real and healthy advancement of the South is the growing and widely diffusing in terest felt by her farmers and planters in State Fairs and fairs in special sections and the counties of the States. They should be en couraged and stimulated to the greatest possi ble extent, because they serve to diffuse farm ing knowledge, excite inquiry and induce ex periment, form and strengthen local acquaint anceship and friendships, and advertise the productions, resources and possibilities of lo calities and States. .Foptfee Sunny South. y rr| ' & . Translated from the French of the Coer- RIER DES EtATS UNIS BT JnO. M. MlLLER. Coming and Going- On the 4th instant Sir John SwiDburne, O. V. Morgan and Halley Stewart, all members of Parliament, sailed from Liverpool for New York, as members of the interstate arbitration delegation. Michael Davitt, after a few weeks visit, on business best known to himself, left for Ireland on the Celtic on the 12th. Large Sumac Shipments. The Roanoke, N. C. News says that during the sumac season, which is now about over, several hundred thousand pounds have been shipped from Weldon. We think other local ities might engage in the same business, as sumac grows wild and luxuriantly in almost all parts of the South. “The more you 1 puff a cigar the smaller it becomes; and that is the case with some men.” For all forms of nasal catarrh where Uiere is dryness of the air passage with what is com monly called “stuffing up,” especially when going to bed, Ely’s Cream Balm gives perfect and immediate relief. Its benefit to me has been priceless.—A. G. Chase, M. D., Miiwood, Kansas. The bottle of Ely’s Cream Balm that I ob tained of you last summer has entirely cured my little boy of a severe attack of catarrh.— Mrs. Sallie Davis, Green Post Office, Ala. In the Allees du Luxembourg, full of cool shadows and bordered with white statues, a crowd of children were playing, running and skipping, enlivened by the approach of the long delayed spring. Leaning upon the bal ustrade which separates the roadway from the garden,! where the sleeping waters of the basin sparkled in the son, Lucien Gerard a medical stndent was smilingly regarding the pretty band of urchins, fluttering and chattering like a flock of parrots. Suddenly upon his left, in the direction of the boulevard St. Michel, a succession of prolonged cries were heard ap proaching nearer and nearer, a sinister clamor of affright and alarm. ‘ Stop him! save your selves!” The children became quiet, surpris ed rather than alarmed, listening but not com prehending. Soon a man appeared running along the inclosure, making violent gestures ane crying out, “Save yourselves little ones! a mad dog!’’ There was a moment of stupor and then the little band scattered, every one for himself. They were only in time. Through the entrance from the rue de Medicis, the dog turned into the garden. He ran with bloodshot eyes, open mouth, and drooping ears. The student had not moved, thinking not of himself, he was following with an anxious look the flight of the children who were now disap pearing among the trees. All at once he be came conscious of danger, reflecting that if the dog should turn to the right, he would be shut up against the balustrade as if in the bottom of a pit, and placing both hands upon the obsta cle he was about to clear it at a bound, when heisnddenly stopped and a cry was strangled in his throat. About fifty steps below him one of the children had fallen to the ground- one of the youngest as it was still clothed “< garcon” in a robe, and its little naked legs were kicking in the air with convulsive move ments. The poor little one was so paralyzed with fright that it could not rise. It uttered cries of distress, and the dog ran directly to wards it. Lucian Gerard shuddered with hor ror. He made an instinctive movemeEt to rush to the aid of the little unfortunate. With a glance he measured the distance; he could not arrive in time. The dog was not more than ten steps from the child. The young man, his brow covered with a cold sweat, was unable to move. Suddenly the cry which had been arrested iu his throat was uttered, follow ed by a joy full acclamation. “Ah! bravo!” Upon a bench concealed by the trunk of tree, a man was seated, whom the student had not hitherto perceived. This man suddenly sprang up brandishing a cane, and at the mo ment when the dog with open mouth was rushing upon the prostrate child, his arm was raised, striking thesknfl of the brute a vigorous blow. The latter turned furiously, and with a single bound rushed upon his assailant. But the man heroically seized him by the throat, and both rolled over upon the sands of the Al- lee in the pell-mell of a violent straggle. Lu cien Gerard hastened forward to assist the stranger. When he reached him he saw his aid was useless. With his neck clasped as in a vice by two powerful hands, the dog was struggling with protruding eyes and pendant tongue. Tne man continued his hold, immov able, bowed upon both knees so as to exert all his strength. He remained thus a quarter of a minute. Then the body of the animal was shaken by a supreme convulsion aud rolled over motionless upon the soil. He was dead. The man released his hold and arose to his feet. Fifty frightened and breathless people were around him. The child had been picked up and carried off unhurt. In the excited gioup of curious spectators, constantly in creased by new arrivals, various cries and ex clamations were heard. “It was admirable!’’ “Without him the child would have been lost 1” “He has strangled the dog with his hands!” Suddenly Lucien Gerard seized the man’s hand. “You are bitten yourself!” he exclaimed. “Do you think so?” said the unknown, qui etly. f V , r Do I think so? Hold I See for yourself! It is a bite, and deep enough. Come, hasten! We will cauterize the wound. There is not a moment to lose.” In the crowd the exclanations re-com- menced, but the wounded man made a move ment of impatience. “Let me alone!” he said brusquely; and with a haughty, almost brutal gesture he parted the group of spectators who scattered before him. But Lucien Gerard attached himself to his arm. Come!” he said, “I will not leave you. I am a doctor, and I assure you it is necessary to act immediately.” The man, without replying, walked rapidly toward the gate, followed by the curious crowd. Reaching the gate, he summoned a passing coachman. Then he turned towards the car riage, opened the door, and was about to enter, when several hands detained him. “Yon must have your wound treated imme diately.” # The wounded man turned with a frown. “Let me alone!” he again cried out. “I will have my wound treated if I think it is necee- sary. Hold!” he added, taking the arm of Lu cien Gerard; “this gentleman, who is a doctor, will accompany me.” He released himself from the hands which detained him, entered the carriage, and through the opposite door gave an address to the coach man. “Drive fast,” he said. Lucien Gerard seated himself by the wound ed man and the coach set out at a rapid rate. Ten minutes later it stopped before a small house behind the observatory and the two men descended. The stranger paid the coachman, opened his door and introduced the student in to a room upon the ground floor. Come quick, some fire!” said Lucien Ger ard. ‘Some fire? For what purpose?” ‘To cauterize your wound." ‘That is useless. I do not want it cauter ized.” “Do yon dread the pain?” The man slightly shrugged his shoulders. “K that is the case,” continued the student, "we can save you otherwise. A recent admir able discovery ’’ “Yes,” replied the man; “I know; I read about it in the papers. A very wise man, is he not? He would innoculate me with the virus taken from apes or rabbits?” “Exactly. We are only twenty minutes from the rue de Ulm. Let us go.” The wounded man seated himself upon a lounge. “I will remain here,” he said. The student stood with open mouth, and an expression of astonishment passed over his countenance. The man regarded him with a sad smile. “You are asking yourself if you are not en gaged with a madman. No; I have all my senses. Listen to me a moment and you will be convinced. I will tell you a story; my own. It is simple and contains but few words. I have been the happiest of men, aDd now I am the unhappiest. I had a wife whom I adored, and two little children whom I idolized. In less than six months death deprived me of all. The mother died first, carried off by fever. Then the two children followed three months afterwards, two cherubs of five and six years— two little divine beings, beautiful and healthy, with rosy mouths and great wondering blue eyes, innocent and pure. In eight days both became victims of croup. That was three months ago. Since then I have remained alone, like a body without a soul—stupified at still existing, indignant at the stupidity of na tural laws which requires one to live when he no longer has a reason or desire to lisve. Sui cide? I have thought of that. But I was brought up by a believing mother, who taught me that suicide was a crime. Prejudice or filial respect! I know not. I have retained that idea. In killing myself it seemed that I would orftrage the memory of my mother. I have dragged on thus, during three months, a miserable existence, made a continual torture without a hope. Happily, destiny which has some infamous cruelties, has also sometimes strange pities. It is to one of these pities, evi dently, that I owe the adventure which has just taken place. I have saved a child whose father and mother (there are some happy peo ple in this world) are now clasping in their arms. At the same time I have received in my veins a poison which will surely kill me. I am satisfied. The deliverance so ardently hoped for, is here. I possess it. I will keep it without the profanation of a sacred remem brance, without compromising with my con science. I do not kill myself, in fact; I permit myself to die. I am at peace with myself. Leave me, Monsieur. You see well that you have nothing to do here." The stndent regarded his host with aston ishment. ,'8Ve - ,737bVi .J ,li r ■ • “But,” he cried uut, “do you know what this death is, to which you condemn yourself? It is the most atrocious, the most frightful of tortures!” “I know it,” calmly replied the wounded man, “but I have no choice. The essential thing for me is to die, and this occasion lost, would never return. “Farewell, Monseur.” The young man went out. Eight days afterwards, while attending to his duties at the hospital, the medical student saw his unknown brought in upon a litter, by two men. The unfortunate man died the next day in convulsions of hydrophobia. Lucian Gerard had the compassion to in crease a dose of morphine, and to abridge by a pious crime, the agony of this martyr. Hot Springs, Arkansas. Its Improvements—Business Facili ties, Etc., Etc. Editor Sunny South: I have seen one or two brief sketches of onr little town, bnt not withstanding that fact, I am inclined to think your readers will not tire of hearing more of it. In the middle of summer our city deserves the name of “City of Roses.” -To my mind some of the yards are unsurpassed by any I have ever seen in the South. Hot Springs is situated in a valley of the Ozark Mountains— they surrounding it—as picturesque as one could wish to revel in; and I think the scenery is the one great attraction for many of its vis itors. During the last few years there have been great improvements made in every way. New residences have been built, which would be an ornament to any town; among the finest of which are those owned by Major Judge J. D. Kunball, Geo. W. Baxter, Col. E. W. Rector, and Messrs. Rix, Worley, Stitt, O. F. Smith, Ledwidge, N. J. Conger (Sup’t. H. L. R. R.) Dr. Ellsworth, Dr. Greenway and others. The hotels and boarding houses are Lumer- ous; the most popular are Arlington, Plateau, Waverly, United States, Avenue Sumtey Josephine, Hay House, Haines Villa and Irena. The above named are pleasantly located and constantly crowded with visitors. The bath houses are of the finest architect ure, and are named as follows: Ozark, Ram melsburg, Independent, Palace, Rector, Cen tral and Electric. The Mud Hole is a free bath house—a great help and convenience for the poorer classes who visit the Springs, There are men at work excavating for five ad ditional bath houses, which are soon to be built. Prohibition reigns supreme. AH saloons are turned into stores and restaurants. Oar town is very orderly; officers ail trying to perform their duties as gentlemen should. The good Christian Temperance ladies have formed themselves into a Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, and are trying to do much good for the lost and fallen. They wear the white ribbon badge, and are anxious and proud to let persons know for what cause they are working. There are two daily papers printed here (the News and the Sentinel) and a column is re served in each for the W. C. T. U. The vice- president and treasurer have charge of the columns. There are two banks here—Arkansas Na tional and Hot Springs Valley. Among our physicians we have some most excellent and worthy practioners; none better anywhere. We have thirteen very fine drug stores; some of them beautifully furnished, and as nice as can be found in the South. As lawyers we have principally Col. Jno. J. Sumter, Col. E. W. Rector, Col. Murphy and others. The Court House and jail have very fine lo cations, it being possible to see them from any part of the city. The latter has been built about two years. The Army and Navy Hospital is a beautiful building, erected under the auspices of the government, situated upon the side of East Mountain, overlooking the town. It is much admired by visitors, and affords a comfortable home for our afflicted saiiors and soldiers. We have two depots—freight and passenger, —about one hundred yards apart. Only one raiiroad extends here a3 yet, but the Natchez, Fort Scott & New Orleans ronte fs being surveyed, which will pass through here. We have a fine post office, which joins the Hot Springs Valley Bank iu th8 Gaines block; I. J. Hill, postmaster. Gibbs, and Steithen and Dow, are the saw mill owners whose mills are on the Hot Springs creek. This creek only three years ago was as nature formed it—uncovered and beautiful hot water springs along the banks and the wa ter free for all; now it is arched over with rock and cement and used as a street in some places. After a rain it was beautiful to see the mist and vapor, rising from it. We have two parks, both very pretty and attractive; cne on Park Avenue, and one op posite the passenger depot. There is a ladies Bazaar here, also many music teachers. The most noted are Mrs. Bowers, (who is leader of a baud in the Opera House) aud Miss L, But- terworth. The water works are about eight and a half miles from town, the reservoir not quite so far; the latter is situated on the top of a mountain. We have many electric lights, street cars and ice houses. We have very fine schools, both public aud private, also a convent. The latter beantifuUy situated at the extreme end of Whittington Avenue, and which is under charge of the Sisters of Mercy. It is a fine school for the young. Good discipline is main tained, and there is no lack of attention to the education of youths. The building is an ele gant structure. Although it has been under control for less than five years, still to see the improvements it has undergone in that short time, one would judge it to be no less than ten years old. There are eleven charches here—four col ored and seven white—with large congrega tions at all. Rev. L. L. Pickett, of Dainger- field, Texas, has been here with us holding re vival services and doing great good. He is a man of pluck aud vim, and has a great deal of “get-up-and-go” about him. He does not be- lieve in sitting stiU and talking while others all around him are working. That is the kind of an evangelist to have. There was a camp meeting going on, about five miles from town, while the revival was in progress. Beutz Bros., and B. B. Gross are the only undertakers here, and we have three cemeter ies; bnt we are not mnch in need of them, as there are no deaths to speak of, among the cit izens. Daring the months of Jaly and Au gust not a citizen died, (except a young lady who died while in Frankfort, Kentucky.) She was a beautiful young girl just blooming into womanhood, and died while visiting relatives there. She was a nieee of Capt. J. P. Mallard, one of our principal real estate agents. O. F. Smith is a real estate ageat of great renown. Two bakeries are running here and doing a good business. As to dress-making, the apartment attached to the Southern Palace is well conducted by au able seamstress, who gives perfect satisfac tion to aH, and does work very neatly and nicely. J. F. Kennedy, and Archer & Main are our leading photographers. G. B. Fink, wholesale grocer and dealer, is located on Ouachita Avenue, and does a fine business. Lucien Farmer has a large wholesale grocery store and has an extensive trade. Wm. J. Little is a large wholesale dealer in both groceries and dry goods. His store is al ways crowded. Chas. Fisher is the leader in confectionaries, Burgeaur in furniture, N. J. Fritzon in glass and queensware, Mendal in fine dress goods and millinery, Blake in jewelry, and Strauss among the leaders in gents’ fine furnishing goods. The Sunny South is a favorite here, and we always look forward to its arrival wiih great interest. I am really glad to know it is a ‘thorough-bred” Temperance paper, and the most newsy, attractive and entertaining, as well as instructive paper published in the South. We often send it North, where it ex cites mnch interest. Wallson. Hot Springs, Ark., Oct., 8th, 1887. Jf/HuMOg It Should Be Generally Known. that the multitude of diseases of a scofulous nature generally proceed from a torpid condi tion of the Uver. The blood becomes impure because the liver does not act properly and work off the poison from the system, and the certain results are blotches, pimples, eruptions, sweUings, tumors, ulcers, and kindred affec tions, or settling upon the lungs and poisoning their delicate tissues, until ulceration, break ing down, and consumption is established. Dr. Pierce’s “Golden Medical Discovery" wiU, by acting upon the liver and purifying the blood, cure aU these diseases. Then Life Would be Complete. It I could have the sunsets, dear, And have von too; The mellow light of coming night, And have yon too; It I could have the moonlight, dear, And have yon too; Its loving bee and tender grace, And have you too; It I could have the soag ol birds. And have yon too; The qnlet nook, and murmuring brook, And have you too; Tour sympathy and cheering words, Like fragrant Sowers; The daisies sweet, beneath onr feet, In summer hours; Then life wonld be complete for me; A Cloudless day; Not wealth nor fame, but one dear name To bear for aye. Mexican Humor. In au examination at the agricultural school: “What is the best method of preserving meat?” “Leaving the animal alive.” The beautiful Sulia has a very ugly husband. One day her friend Enriqueta arrives and finds her embracing her husband. As soon as the husband leaves the room the friend remarks sarcastically: “How courageous you are!” “But don’t you know we are iu Lent? I am doing penance!” Class in history: “What is historic truth?” “Everything that a newspaper affirms al though it may be prevaricating.” “What is honorableness.” “To elevate one’s self to a throne of gold no matter what kind of material the steps are made of.” “What is gratitude?” “To kiss one’s cheeks at the same time that you are putting your hands into his pockets.’’ Trying to make her country cousin presenta ble at table, a city young lady said: “Now, Lem, when pie is served you must not use your knife in eating it.” “Gosh all hemlock, Tody, I never do. I al iens take my piece er pie right into my hand when I eats it.’. That settled Lem. “A cross old bachelor suggests that births should be announced under the head of new music.” Sam—Don’t tote me dat, Frank. Dar was free men on bases, and you couldn’t ketch dat ball. De kind ob balls you want is codfish balls, an’ den we couldn’t git ’em past your mouf wid- out dey was in a grip sack. You nebber ketch- ed nothin’ ouless it was de measles. Go way dar. Help One Another. “Help one another,” the snoeflike, said, As they cuddled down in their fl secy bad; Oae of ns here would not be felt, One of us here wou d q sickly melt; But I’d help you and you’ll 1 ' And then what a big white < “Hslp one another,” the maple spray Said to Its fellow leaves one day; “The sun would wither me here alone, Long enough ere the day Is gone; But I’ll help you ana you’ll help me, Aad then what a splendid shade there’ll he.” “Hslp one another,” the dewdrop cried, Boeing another drop close to ils side; “This warm sooth breeze would drive me away, And I should be gone ere noon to-day; Bat I’ll help you and you’ll help me, And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.” “Help one another,” a grain of sand Said to another grain j ist at hand; “The wind may carry me overths sea; And then, O wbat will become ol me? Bat, come, my brother, give me your hand— We’ll build a mountain and there we’ll stand.” -•.‘This,” said Mr. Laylow, as he sat down to dinner, “is a most frivolous age. Children have no ambition to study and rise in the world, and their ideas prefer the circus to the lecture platform.” “Things were different in your day, eh?” “They were, my dear. One of the first les sons taught me was to ‘catch the transient hour and improve each moment as it flies?”.’ “By the way, what kept you so late for din ner? I though everything would be cold before you would come." Oh, there was a fellow down town had a tame bear that gave a very amusing perfor mance, and I stayed to see it.” The frnit peddler never resorts to legal meas ures. Mother—“My daughter, if the bad boys try to flirt with you, have nothing to do with them.”i Daughter—“How about the good boys?” Indianapolis, Ind., has a woman whose voice can be heard for a mile. We do not know what her calling is, but she must be successful in it.” Brown—That’s a very killing bonnet your wife wore to the theatre last nigb. Smith—So I believe. The fellow who sat be hind her twisted his neck off tryiag to see around it. Threads. The metal sleeps in Its bidden vein The blue-eyed fl ix waves over the plain, Tne silk worm spina on the mulberry leaf, Days are splnnlag their ] jy and grief. Threads are a-iwlnlng, manifold, Of fl ix, hemp, cotton, and silk, and gold; For j tyous Beanty, for Soldier proud, For work-dress, cable, baiter and shroud. From fields cf sense, and mines of thought, Tbreaes of life are twisted and wrought: We are weaving Cnaracter, weaving Fate, And Homan History, little and great. “Pa, what is a revenue cutter?” asked a ten- year-old who had been reading about a new Government vessel. Come with me and I will showyou my son,” replied his father, who is a banker. Then he led the boy into his private office, and taking down a huge pair of shears which he used to sever coupons from bonds with he continued: ‘There is the most approved revenue cutter I know of, my son. Be a good boy aDd some day you may be commander of a pair and find plenty of busines for them.” An Austin lawyer caught a tramp in his of fice stealing some law books which the latter intended to pawn. Seizing the intruder, the lawyer exclaimed: “You scoundrel! I’ll have you tried and sent to the penitentiary.” “Let go my neck, Calone 1 . If you are going to have me tried, I reckon I had better engage yon as my lawyer, since you have the luck to je on hand.” Old Lady (to grocer’s boy)—“Don’t you know, boy, that it is very rude to whistle when dealing with a lady?” Boy—“That’s what the boss told me to do, mum.” Old Lady—“Told yoa to whistle?” Boy—“Yes’m. He said if we ever sold you anything we'd have to whistle for the money.” “This old world is scarce worth seeing, Till Love wave his purple wing, And we gauge the bUss of being Through a golden wedding ring. There’s no jewel so worth wearing, That a lover’s bands may bring; There’s no treasure worth comparing With a golden wedding ring.” A CARD. To all who are suffering from the errors and Indiscretions of youth, nervous weakness, early decay, loss of manhood. Ac., I will send a recipe that will cure you, FREE OF CHARGE. This great remedy was discovered by a missionary In South America. Send a self-addressed envelope to the Skv. Josefs T. Inman, station D, Sm For* CM* ’HUMPS MISTJRE. A Sick Man’s Wife Disregards the Druggist’* Advice and So Saves the Life of Her Husband. I am a wood carver by trade and it is out of my line to write letters; but my wife thought it was no more than right that I should let you know what your remedy has done for me, and 1 think so too. I live in East 157th street, west of Third avenue, and have lived there for about twenty-three years, where I own real estate. Up to the time I am about, to mention I had been a strong, well man. There was always more or less malaria in the neighborhood, but I had not personally suffered from it. It was in 1880 I had my first attack. It came on as such attacks commonly do, with headaches, loss of appetite and ambi tion, chilly sensations with slight fever afterwards, a disposition to yawn and stretch, and so forth. I was employed at that time at Killians & Brothers, furniture manufacturers, in West 82d street. 1 hoped the attack would wear off, but as it didn’t I consulted a well- known and able physician in Morris- ania, who gave me q inine and told me what to do. I can sum up the first four and a half or five years of mr experi ence in few words. Occasionally I was laid up for a day or two, but on the whole I stuck to my work. 1 kept taking quinine, in larger doses from year to year, and kept on getting weak er and worse, slowly hut surely7all the time. My trouble was now well de fined and its symptoms were steady and. regular. I had dumb ague in its worst form, and it was grinding me down in spite of all that I could do or the doc tors could do. It held'me in a grip like fire in a burning coal mine. The poison had gone all through and over me and nothing was able to touch it. I was fast losing flesh and strength, and about March, 1884, I knocked off work entire ly and went home to be down sick, and to die for all I could tell. I ran down so rapidly that I soon became unable to walk any distance. L iter 1 went from room to room in my own house only by friends holding me up by each arm. The doses of quinine were increased unlil 1 often too!, thirty grains at a dose. The effects of 111js tremendous stimulation was to make me nearly wild. It broke my sleep all up, and I often walked the floor, or staggered about it, all night long, scarcely able to bear any noises or even human speech. My temper was extremely irritable. As to food, one of my little children would eat more in a menj than I could in a day. 1 would order food and then turn from it in disgust. I lived on quinine and other stimulants and on myself, like a hear in winter. The quinine set my head in a whirl, and the liquor—given as a medicine—made my stomach so sick I could not tolerate it. From 175 pounds (my proper weight) I ran down to 97 pounds—the weight of a light girl—and was scarcely better than a skeleton. Jf anybody had taken a hatchet and knocked me-down and killed me I should hace been belter off. During the latter part of this period, early iu 1886, my physician said: “Miller, there’s no use in my taking any more money of you, I can’t do you any good. I might pour pounds of qui nine down your throat and it wouldn’t help you.” On tli<> strength of this I gave up the use of quinine altogether, and made up my mind to do nothing more and take mv chances. Three weeks afterwards—about the last of May—my wrfe saw an advertise ment of Kaskine iu a New York paper. She told me of it. I said: “Stuff and nonsense! it can’t do me any good.” But she went to a druggist’s, neverthe less, to get it. The druggist advised her against Kaskine: he said it was nothing but sugar: that she ought not to throw away her money on it, &c. He said he didn’t keep it, but could get it if she insisted on having it. Turn ing away in disgust my wife spoke to our neighbor, Mr. A. G. Hegewaid, who got ner a bottle at a drug store in Sixth avenue. Almost against my will, and without the least faith, I began taking it. In one week I was better I began to sleep. I stopped “ seeing ghosts.” I began to lii^'e an appetite and to gain strength. Tilts was now the first of June, 1886, and by the end of that month I was back at my bench at C. P. Smith’s scroll sawing factory iu 116th street, where I work now. Since then I have never lost a day from sickness. Taking Kaskine only, about forty pellets in four equal doses a day, I continued to gain. The ma laria appeared to.be killed in my sys tem, and now I’ve got back my old weight—175 pounds—and my old strength to labor. I am an astonish ment to myself and to my friends, and if Kaskine did not do this I don't know what did. The only greater thing it could do would be to bring a dead man to life. Frederick A. Mxli.er, 630 East 157th Street, New York. P. S.—For the absolute truth of the above statement I refer to the following gentlemen, who are personally ac quainted with the facts: Mr. Alex ander Weir, 626 156th St.; Mr. George Seaman, 158th street and Courtlatnit avenue: Mr. A. Moebus, 15ith street and Courtlandt avenue; Mr. P. .F. Vaupel, 154th street and Courtlandt avenue; Mr. John Lunny, 630 East 158th street; Mr. John Kensliaw, 124 125th street, and many others. I will also reply to letters of inquiry. We submit that the above nstonish- ing pure, vouched for as it is by repu table men, is deserving of a thorough and candid investigation by thinking people. And we further submit that when druggists turn away customers by falsifying tlie character of a remedy because they do not happen to have it on hand, they do a great wrong. If this afflicted man lmd not disregarded the druggist’s advice aud sent else where for the remedy he would without doubt have been iu his grave. Otlrer letters of a similar character from prominent individuals, which stain]) Kaskine as a remedy of un doubted merit, will be sent on applica tion. Price. $1.00, or. 6 bottR-s. $5.00. told by Druggists, or sent by mail on receipt of price. The Kaskine Company, 54 Warren St., New York. tajlrania Agricultural Work?, fork, Pa, '*Tuqilu’i SUidirl Bngiies k 8»* Miilt ENGLAND AND FRANCE. la addition to our borne practice, legal busines, ot ever; description undertaken in the above coun tries, including recovery of debts and ciaims, bank* rnptcv, common law, chancery, probate and admin istration, divorce, shipping. conveyancing, compa ny law and sales and purchases of real and perso nal property. To effectuate the above purpose we have formed business connections with responsible and efficient lawyers tn London and Paris. BROYLES A JOHNSTON, Attorneys-at-Law, No. 8 8. Broad Street, Atlanta, Ga. 583-tl
