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
