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THE SUNNY SOUTH, ATLANs^ ^^"^Tl'RUAY MORNING, DECEMBER 13, 1890.
HAWTHORN;
A TALE OF TWO DECADES IN MANY STATES
By Bismuth Miller.
CHAPTER Viu.
Hast morulajr la good Um Beaigua
WMrt ttougrsod mostlng place,
awaited tta waring of Wilbur aatoa
I—*rl n%— tasuuitolj
Mo *o Ua tabitaasuf tta rsstsursut.sta
also berime Rolafat tta order for bar
»oal ia snrpaotslluo of oajoytog it with
kor dally rtmpsulou. Sho at IsagU
oallad a waiter to inquire if to kaow tor
friaad, aad If tho aama bad baaa tbara
that Morning. Tba aarraat know whom
■ka referred to, aad aaawared that ba
had not yat appeared. She aakad for a
cap of coffee, and would bare choked
with indignation while drinking it had
aba not fait thankful for feeling wickedly
angry, ainoe bare waaa bard task to on
dertake in conventional cold blood.
Kiting abruptly alter a light and hur
ried repast, she left in snob haste as to
again draw attention. It was much
too early for the morning session of
Congresc; so she took “the Avenue”
toward the treasury building, sciu
tlnlzing each pcisan who by the
merest snggestiveness resembled her
truant dupe. Turning into Fifteenth
street to the right she next wended her
nnavaUing steps into O street, which
she foUowed, in its comparative desert
edness, until her eye canght a small sign
which set forth that “Billing & Rigby,
general claim agents,” were likewise “at
torneys in all confidential matters,” aud
that “consultations and advice” were
“given free.” i
It required only a moment's hesitation
to determine her to take her case to |
them; and she ascended the dark stair
way, at the head of which was a long,
narrow hallway. Still another sign, and
a still smaller one, with a hand pointing
at a half opened door, contained “Billing
Rigby—Walk In.” And in she went.
Wnhln sat two men behind a small
office railing. Both looked at her, and
one, a burly Individual, rose to receive
her. This was Rigby. He appeared to
be the legal “floor walker.” The other,
who was Billing, neither moved
nor spoke. He was the “silent partner.”
Three men were of that powerful
class of “regal” harpies with which
Washington abounds, especially during
the stssious of Congress. They were
Mew York lobbyists and sharpen, and
lived wholly by their whs.
Rigby, having placed a chair for Be-
nigna close to his own, listened to the
vacuous story of her wounded-affections,
occasionally himself speaking in a low
tone. The conversation at length grew
to be somewhat loud and-decidedly confi
dent.
Now, as a matter of experience, they
Anew that if the woman were an
honest client she would have sought for
honest counsel.
“Yte.” said Rigby; “we can pat that
through at once, or we’ll force a compro
mise. We charge you nothing for this;
bat half the damage money will be oars.”
Benigna was not pleased with the
proposition. She hesitated.
Billing gathered up a voluminous moss
of papers, and, with an air of great
mental absorption, passed out, closing
the door behind him.
Rigby, in an off-hand way, then rose to
boslness. “My friend, let me tell yon:
you’ve got a good case maybe, but that
thing’s so near played out here, it’ll be
hard to work It.”
A guilty, disappointed look flitted
across the woman s fane.
“But I’U help you all can,” he quick
n<yt;”TreTrt>fre<f.—'nh‘«f, wdli
get at It. See them papers?” He indicated
a pigeon-hole packed with folded docu
meats. “Well, there's thousanls and
thousands of money in them If we can
get the ’fist’ for it.”
“What's that—tbe ‘£sF?”
“The ‘ slg’'—understand?"
“I do not.”
“Well, there’s a claim against the g >v-
ernment that, with back pay and inter
est. will foot np—well, twenty thousand
dollars. It’s been hanging a long time,
and the man is dead. It goes to Mabel
Bounce, his niece, but weean’t-fiad her—
-understand?”
“1 understand what yon are saying—of
course.”
“You see, we want Mabel Bounce; and
if we can’t get the right one, we’ll take
another. Do you get onto the racket
nawf’’
“I think so. 1
“Well, now, yon do the Mabel Bounce
act for us, and we’U harpoon the lumber
man’s ducats for you—thirds all round on
both.”
Benigna was silent for a moment.
“What am I to do?”
“Swear.”
“To what?”
“To this claim—that you’re Mahal
Bounce.”
“But I’m not.”
“Certainly. What of that? You don’t
have to go into court. Y’ou swear it to
me. You’ve got a case against that
chap, I gucBs; and I’U get the money if
you’ll help get this—hear?”
“When?”
“Well, tomorrow will do—If you'll
' come. If I can bet on yon tomorrow,
we’ll pnt In a notice at the department
to day. But see here—I want to see your
■Iff.”
He thrust before her a scrap of paper,
sa) ing: “Sign this.”
She wrote “Benigna Bern and.”
“That’s a daisy. Now pnt it Mabel
Bounoe. Don't quake—make It soUd.”
She wrote “Mabel Bonnce.”
“That’ll fetch it,” be exclaimed, in
glee, holding the signature before him.
“Tomorrow at eleven in the more lng be
here, sure,” he said. “And as for that
damage salt, we’U prod Wllbar for five
thousand, and he’ll pnt np half—then,
Its thirds aU round.”
“What do you mean by that ?” sho
asked.
“Billing—me—yon—third each, from
both Wilbur and Bounce. That’ll fix yon
finely—see?”
••Yes—'well, I’U come tomorrow and let
yon know,” said Benigna, rising to go.
“Will I wait tIU tomorrow to posh your
man, tool” asked Rigby.
“Yes,” she answered, as she passed
out.
She was seriously cogitating on the
mutter es she emerged upon the street,
already thoroughly enlisted in the first
scheme of raising the two thousand dol
lars. And though she bad never laid her
eyes on so enormous a sum in all her life,
the dally evidences of promiscuous
wealth she witnessed In all parts of the
capital city were snob ea to make a few
thousand dollars dwindle to o very
moderate expectation. Half committed
Tkis stougirus fniwMMoheuellile lo Ike
womanT^Vaa* toyou mauaT”
“Tkat yen meant to give no tk
Maybe you think the snap’s
Not a Ml of It. Tbo government's groan-
15* to pay the claim, but we haven't got
tha oolntnblna. Likely aba's paseed up
her trip ticket. YeejSe stulTe aTShC
end we must shove her for eU she's
worth.”
“I’U oome tomorrow,” said Benigna.
“Hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you must; for it’s o solid mul-
doon, out .In,”
“And what did you say you would need
me to do?”
“Just aa Hamlet did when the ghost of
his grandfather got after him with a roll
lng-pln— swear!
“To what? -
“Well, a woman that swears at aU onght
to swear to anything and swear Uke a
pirate, too. I’U post you on that. You
want to swear you're Mabel Bounce, to
begin with.”
“Then,” she again said, anxious to
terminate the interview, “1’U be there
tomorrow if 1 am well enoujh.”
“Well enough! That’s another go.
Won’t do. Bay yon'U come sore, and
maybe I’ll make a square divvy, for it’s
my private racket, anyway ”
She promised, and soon after he de
parted.
Benigna was on hand at the capital on
the succeeding day, at the hour, too,
when she had faithfully engaged to be
at Rigby’s office. Her own disregard of
I this appointment began cow to alarm
and hasten her, having cast her fortune
entirely upon the success of the design
on Wilbur.
WhUe she was pacing to and fro bo
Death the dome of the rotunda, Wllbar
aoproached suddenly, on his way to the
House. She immediately accosted him.
He turned deathly pale.
“Have you no response for the last
note 1 addressed you, sir?” she asked ia
an imperative tone.
“I’ve been away on business,” he
stammered.
“That’s not to the point,” she insisted.
He looked puErled, pained. “Madam,
there’s some mistake,” he said; “some
mistake about this whole thing. Yon
have misapprehended me.”
She flew into a red heat of Simula
ed rage. “Then, sir, let me say that
yon Bhall not misapprehend mel Yon
will learn at your cost, sir, that
a woman’s feelings are not playthings.”
“If you suspect me of having trifled
with your feeling i, I’m vtry sorry,” he
said, apologetically, and in a low voice.
“Suspected! suspected, clr! Impn
denct! *
Standing quite near to her, he appeal
ed, in an undertone: “I hope yon will
not attract pnnUc attention to this con
versation.
“You may will feel ashamed to be over
heard!” she said, londly, after the man
ner of one who la applying spicsd vine
gar to an cmen wound.
He was silent and uncertain for a mo
ment; after which, In a much altered
manner, he asked: “Without reference
to the merits-of this matter, what would
it cost me to repossess the note which 1
sent you?”
Tnis was her chance.
“In open coart,” she promptly answer
ed? “I shall sue for five thousand dollars,
with ccets. Out of court, it would be
worth quite as much to keep the affair
from the knowledge of your family.”
Five thousand dolars was not a vast
sum for a wealthy Northwestern lumber
man to pay for a first experience with *
pride and affections. Yet it would-’ not
and gone deeper into crime, bat she
foarensacha hazsrd might cost what
■ho already AM, and she was afraid, tor,
to moot that man, having cheated him
of fala promised interest in the -Wilbur
blackmail She had even a sneaking
fear to revisit her abode lost Rigby might
be sseklng ker then!/
It should now be quite time for Martha
to have returned with u rejoinder from
John Hawthorn. Calling to hor an In
telligent little ion of the hart, sho to
patetod Mm for Martha, nther tome. ■
Meanwhile the polite proprietor come
forward and tendued a morning paper.
Q anolng through its local eoinssns, eta
As “sharp plooo of rogusry por-
oa n distinguished official by
nprlaelpltd IhmIIi wkMi Um polios
who mm hTnjTfor.”
Bfco hlmohiq oaA imnUfid 11 oho rood
It, and tho Italian, oboorving hor, askod
ifato wmUI; to whioh aho replied that
■to was over fottgnod; aad then nervous
ly called ter more ooflfee.
By thie tlmo tho boy had returned, A
lowed by tho negro servant girl with
fol
sealed letter. Benigna tremblingly tore it
open, and read:
Madam: I eon think of no basin sos
_ m could possibly hava with m
do not ooneeal my superstitious
nation to sea yon, le t it bring me a new
misfortune. Bines, however, I may be in
some way doing some person elec a
wrong if I decline, I consent to your visit.
I may be found at my home at 3 o’clock
this arternoon, if yon will call promptly.
Respectfully,
Joan Hawthorn.
On reading this, she rose suddenly, an
expression of relief overspreading her
face. Having paid her blU and placed a
cola in the hand of the obUglng boy, she
beckoned Martha to follow, and they
stepped together into the street.
Tue momentary peace of Hawthorn’s
note was contested by the torment of the
terrifyfog newspaper article. Tine, no
names were announced, and the public
could not possi Jly guess as to the par
ties; but, then, Rigby would know, and
she felt that she was at last in the power
of one as unscrupulously dishonest as
herself, bat between waom there could
be no placatlon except she pay for his
mercy from her stolen moans; and thi3
she did not intend to do.
CHAPTER X.
J-hn Hawthorn, though much changud
In appearance and prospect, was quite
comfortably conditioned at Washington,
He occupied a pleasant room in a sub-let
apartment bouse, No. €12 Fourteenth
street, N. W., the remainder of the divel
ling being occupied by Congressmen,
newspaper men and bepvrtment officials.
Raymond had been placed for a time
near Cuarlottesvilie, to remain nntil
better arrangements were made lor him
i, Fairfax.
On the basement floor resided Haw
thorn’s landlady, a very clever woman,
named Barker, and with her a young and
exceedingly Intelligent wilow, Mrs.
Alma Solwyn, and her infant daughter,
the three having as many ample rooms.
It was Mrs Barker’s habit to receive Haw
thorn’s mail when he happened to be
away; and be occasionally dropped into
her rooms for a few minutes’ chat.
On the present occasion she was out on
shopping tour, and hs came unawares
upon the sad, sweet co-tenant whose
face he had just once seen as she swiftly
sped away at his approach This was
Mrs. Alma Selwyn. A born lady, she
pleasantly overcame her embarrassment
acd as easily feU to entertaining him,
possibly nntil her friend’s return, whom
she waB aware had letters for Hawthorn,
or at least had laid them away for him.
At her side, clinging cunningly to her
dress, was a lovely little goldtn haired,
hazel eyed gem of a girl, whom she called
Virginia.
Hawthorn lifted the little bsanty to his
knee as he drew a chair; a d Mrs Selwyn
sat a short distance away. After some
slight conversation, sbe said:
have oi-erheard you spsak o! Vi
to Rigby’s joint proposition,
’ ed along till she became i
tbo idea of making first ua attempt on
welded to
the fears of the goord-Uke congressman,
and, If that faUed,then perhaps to enter
Into the Mabel Bounce bamboozle.
Having re-entered tho ladteo* gallery of
tbo House, now In session, before her at
hie place on tbo floor sot Wllbar, with
averted eyes end nervously toying with a
penknife. Harrying down stein, she
wrote a note at a fruit counter in tbo
corridor, and sent It to him by a page.
In five minwtoe a reply was placed in
her band. She stepped Into an alcove
and read it:
- rr House t f Rephebe ktahves. j
Dear Madam:
Yon misunderstood me. I urn a mar
ried man, and only meant to have a little
flirtation. Respectfully,
W. W. Wilbub.
Benigna cculd have wished for nothing
better than this from the unsophisticated
statesman!
On his own t* aUmony she bad blm In
char eery. He mart have swiftly dis
covered bis mistake, for tbst afternoon,
when sbe celled for him, he bad obtained
leave of absence and left the city.
Benigna retorm d to her home, resolved
to give Higby the go by. to keep her own
counsel, »ud work the Wilbur trick to a
finish. Ntxt day sh6 again visited the
ladies’ galley, but her prospective vie
tin wzs rot ct bis desk. She went home,
ttd remained in retreat
Having lsileel o the eleven o'clock ap-
polLtnitht with tbo G street sharpen,
Higby, to whom she had Incidentally
do for it to get home to Brighton that he
was so soon in the tolls of the sharks.
Tnere were two sides to this. His foes
wonld be tickled, bat his folks would be
shocked. If he coold recall that letter,
and the tacts did get abroad, he then
might easily laugh it off.
Ha said: “d m disposed tc do what is
right. Give me a moment for consulta
tlon.” H a turned to his friend and col
league, Brobson, just passing.
Brobeon had been through the mill.
He bluntly suggested that Wilbur offer a
compromise at had the money.
The latter returned to Benigna’s side
and made that proposition. She appeared
to hesitate. Bet they went a way together,
and that night the woman slept with a
weU filled wallet stuffed under her pillow.
CHAPTER IX.
Benigna’s 111-acquired booty brought
her sleeplessness and terrors. If she
slumbered at aU on that night it was
feverishly and with fearful dreams—not
that her conscience was stnDg, bat sbe
was haunted by visions of Wilbur, Rigby
and others, numerous as the ghosts about
Richard’s couch, and who all of them were
conspiring to deprive her of the stolen
money! She arose, sensibly affected by
these morbific phenomena, and resolved
on utmost baste in carrying out her pres
ent plan. She felt a burning rage to get
away from Washington.
As a business undertaking, Benigna’s
possession of the handsome Hawthorn
property, now permanently abandoned
by its owner, wonld prove of contlnnal
profit. Aa we have seen, she had more
than this reason for wishing to acquire
It. Her very first care on this morning
was to send off an early note to 612 Four
teenth street, asking an Interview with
John Hawthorn.
Martha, the colored housemaid, having
been dispatched on that errand, Benigna
next made ready for her regular morn
ing outing and an incidental breakfast—
not, however, at the customary restau
rant; vary far from that. For the twen
tieth time she re counted her polluted
spoil—two thousand fi/e hundred dollarj
In crisp new national bank notes! Then
it occurred to her that it wonld be ex
ceeding indiscreet to carry on her person
so large a sum, and yet the height of folly
to leave It In her room. What was she
to do? It must be bidden away, If for
only a few hours. She oast her eyes In
many directions, covering every nook
and cranny of bar room to find If It might
not offer safe, unsuspected concealment.
There being a gas stove In tho room, tbo
old-fashioned chimney place had long
been unused. A square, paper covered
screen, showing dost and stains, was
fitted Into the aperture, and rested on the
hearth. In the centre of this screen was
a picture, and within that a stove pipe
opening, now plugged up by a tin orna
ment. Bemovlng tne screen, and looking
Into tbo spaoe behind it, there were abun •
dant evidences of long Immunity from
disturbance, the heaps of dingy news
paper Utter testifying to the ancient die-
appearance of the broom. A harried glance
upward Into tho floe, hong with cobwebs,
revealed projections, or shelves, snob os
might offer the advantage she was seek
ing for. Hero her investigation esaasd.
Here she would hide her money. Laying
them open, one upon the other, and
counting again and again. Benigna
placed the clean, crackling Mila, marked
only by tho folds which had boon made
toflt thorn into bar wallet; aad now, hav
ing deducted a few dollars tor contingen
cies, she wrapped the whole mass nicely
away Into a scrap of newspaper and cau
tiously laid it on the ledge a little way
np the fine. She next minutely removed
every sign of her secret work, and Earing
carefully dusted and replaced the screen,
the successful task of concealment was
complete.
Looking hor room and patting tho key
into hor wallet, sbe descended the stair
way and stopped into the street, closely
veiled. Her movement here was unde
cided at first, bat she shortly took a
course directly opposite to that of pre
vlous days, furtively looking from side
to side, as she proc.eded, fora sui table
place to call for her breakfast. An Italian
restaurant sign caught her eye, and she
entt-jud, to absently inuucutUo scant meal
which was promptly served.
Flushed ty her brazen triumph, she
nu/'-llUla arfrlwaa h-’in 11
Frederic rsporg.” ^
“Wouldn’t yon like to go back tc old
Virginia with m.?” he asked, playfully,
of the little innocent who was looking
steadfastly np into his face. “X’ilglve
you my bright little boy for a sweet
heart.” Tnen he caught her up and
kissed her.
“Tell blm, -darling,” said the mother,
with a coki ng of pathos, “that we may
look out from our window at the blue-
white mountains over yonder, but that
v. e shall never again climb them.”
This speech .touched the man. Ho
asked, in a voice which was calculated
to invite the young woman's confidence:
“Why should that be sc? ’
“Ah, sir,” she answered, with a sigh,
“it is a long story; and yet 1 was never so
tempted to teU it.”
“lam a listener, madam; proceed with
Uberty.”
She drew her ehair a trifle nearer,
while he turned open her a kindly, inter
ested look.
“I know you are a gentleman, air, and
I have overheard you hint at your trou
bles. Mine have shattered my health
and youth.”
“You have my deepest sympathy,” he
Bald as she paused for a moment.
My maiden name was Brown, and 1
have many relatives in the Old Dominion,
some of whom are wealthy. Mother died
while 1 was at school at Columbia, South
Carolina, and my father remarried in
unexpected haste. ThlB gave offonse to
some of oar connections, and more par
Ucalarly because his second choice was
to them a distasteful one; so they very
generally dropped away from Mm.
1 bad not long returned from school
ere I was plied with questionings as to
my own views of marriage, tMs by my
stepmother, whom 1 quickly saw was in
fall authority. I certainly had given
that matter no serious thought, notwith
standing that, as is common with school
girls, I had my bean, and he had in a way
really offered himself. One day my step
mother summoned me to her room, and
said:
“ Alma, I have a first rate husband
picked oat for yon. He wUi dine with as
today.”
1 could not think she was serious,
unnsed as she was to jesting. I broke
into a laugh.
“Oh, you may laugh,” she said,
sharply, “but I mean it.”
“Notto have me Mindly consent to
snch a thing?"
“ I’ll see after that, she replied, reso
lutely; “you needn’t shat your eyes!”
1 went to my room and wept. When
the yonng man in due time appeared, 1
was urged forward to rec.ive Mm, even
before being introduced. He quickly
offered me trivial attentions; bat my
prejudice was already fixed. At dinner
mother eyed me reprovingly for my
silenoo, while she was drinking in every
word of the incoherent rubbish he meant
to pass for compliments of me. Later,
from word: between them that came in a
low tone, I divined that be had made a
K vlous offer for me, and was expressing
satisfaction. I looked, half-appeal-
lngly, half-proteatingly, toward nther,
whose avoidance of my glance revealed
his powerleasneea to Interpose a word.
I was invited to visit a neighbor’s boose
next day, the note reaching me that
Afternoon.
Mother said that If I showed this cour
tier bsooming attention, I might go. Of
coarse, I treated Mm pleasantly.
Next morning she directed blm to con
duct me to my friends’ borne, and to
return for me In the afternoon. This was
too much. I slipped away through a by*
path and raaobad ihm aToha.
It happened that my old oehool-girl
lover, Hale Selwyn, was on Ms way to
ssa me, but had learned In some way that
I had a visitor. He had therefore con
cluded to remain with my neighbor,
whom he also knew, nntil the other had
guns away. But my friends determined
to Invito me over.
I knew that I shonld be surely, severely,
punished tor slipping away aa I did—per
nape by being forced into a headlong
marriage. My nervous manner so trou
bled my friends that they pressed me for
the cause, and all pronounced it shock
ing. It was decided to withhold thtss
things from Hale at that time, though ho
learned of them soon enough. When we
bad gone abroad in couples for a stroll,
Hale and I wandered away toward a
dense cluster of cedars half a mile off,
bat In fall view of my friends’ cottage.
Here we lingered tiU I saw that some of
the party had returned home. At this
point Hale said, earnestly:
“Alma, I’ve got a rich Georgia uncle
somewhere oat in California who says he
will make me Ms heir If I will let him se
lect my wife. Will you marry me?”
I inwardly blushed to think that an
ta
the
loved'
ford to
marriage,
world tor 1
foztse’MorldJ
Ik Yon
would trust
Abal’
Urn ho i
Witt
equal __
you shall <
Just tta
sssssfa
ms afro ”
fully told
Mob oould save me from
feared at home. I
oly, but I could 111 af
.m to be eager for
I thou have given the
) know all, and yet not
11 have hod bun know
ko Ely predicament. I
lugiveneaos if It
laud, firmly:
taring tow art-
_ aa half an hour
i lapsing wo kid away
now briefly told Hate
i agreed that wo
j Fairfax, mm
Tata night we
of sty daughter Virginia
cm my dear old State
Certain
I had
rlagu, and
my face In
After the
I turned away _
aad w»s kenu My husband was absent
at some polntfo the Potemae. He bad
instructed mtrVi»?rooecd, aad said be
would rejoin he As a ruth Isas autnma
ry of our muRtude of troubles, he was
capsized and downed while attempting
to cross the riv* In a small boat. That
was a year Ad a half ago. There, air,
you have my sfry,” said Alma, with a
long drawn, <yv?oring sign.
Hawthorn »d not ones rslaxel Ms
deep interest, »Mle the light and shadow
which altemobly bad played upon his
features competed witn the varied emo
tions she lnfukd Into the narration.
What are y'ur plans?’- he asked.
I am without them. Hale’s California
uncle, wt.en is heard of my husband’s
death, wrote t< me that if 1 would send
on c-u: child h d provide handsomely for
her. But uuat mother,” she asked,
“could bear with her only bless
ing? Basidek ' she went on to sav, “It
was a long tw before that roundabout
letter rennet'me, and 1 suspect the
chance hoi paired.”
“Did you ref S to It? ’
“No; vliAt-imf"* 1 have said?”
“Listen to ne;” said Hawthorn, almost
peremptorily,, practical idea flashing
into his mind. ' Write this very dny aud
tell him you >?Ui yourself bring your
hutb lad’s 'chili, it is not likely do cvir
meant that £i-" waa to be tom from its
mother. II yjssibly tnought It mi^ht
ba impudeut to make you the offer, uot
&ao wing you, out he assurn d that you
wcu:d take so or oad a hint.”
“That sounes reasonable,” said Alma;
aud yet m v poor health could never sur
vivo such a j itracy.”
■ Ho .7 c-iu y-;S tell? Perhaps such a
journey is jist the thing you need, if
you cau ailorl the expense, take with
you an attendant—a congenial tiave.ing
companion, one who will relieve you or
incidental cares.”
Do you Know of such a person—can
you send her >,u me?” she asked, anx
leusiy.
Hawthorn hnewno one whom he could
name, hut he knew that to so admit
would have the effect to demolish her
brightening hopes. He ans wered: “That
wl 1 be easy enough, I may find one—
" will find herjtuls very day. G jt yon
ready to go! ’
“And you’ll send her to me?—how very
good of you! Yes, 1 have enough money
for ns both.”
Virginia had fallen asleep on Ms lap
He rose, tenderly transferring her to
Alma’s arms and as he be bowed away
he repeated: “That’s much the better.
Expect to hear from me today. I’ll send
yon a suitable person.”
0 J AFTER XI.
When Benigna returned to her room—
wherein, feartul of a descent upon her by
Rigby, she Intended to shut herself from
the precious ledge where rested Benig
na’s Mdden packet. With magical quick
nets tMs burst open, releasing tta hoard,
which flattered down, like u fell cf
autumn leaves, Into tho fire beneath!
B migan, startled by on unaccountable
odor of smoke, nuked pell meU np the
stairway and plunged Into the room She
woe ln tline to see the very last or her 111-
ofatatned bank bills burned to a crisp!
In ker tary and despair she reached for
tta Ufl of toe gM stove; but the nimble
Incendiary already terrified ta the In
tones flame eke had mode, had ignobly
dsns is pad, aud saved tar bead.
The helpless Benigna stormed and
riampsd, raved and Imprecated mom
distraught. Than tha “woman” of tbo
tosmsu tmnsurto* itoolf in a torrent of
toon oonRaent from the tonute of both
araepenUun and anguish In sheer ex
hoMtlou, she fUl upe» the bed, where,
taring buried tar tom la a pUww, eta
■earned to be In a non.
Just hsti a loud top resounded through
tta hallway, and a letter was thrust un
der tta closed door from tta outside. It
wm Hawthorn's note, which, haring
Witt wonderful seif control brushed
away tor tours and bathed tar foes, sho
procsodsd to read.
“AU la loot!” eta exclaimed. “Tnere
is not n refoge now open for me!” Again
■to sobbed hystorloaUr, and again fought
off her awful despair. Suddenly, sho
waved tar hand aloft, and straightening
to her foil height, cried out: “But I’U
yet win; it is now for lifo or death! ’
(To be Continued.)
Sunrise on the Ocean.
For the Sunny South.
Young ladies at a fashionable watering
place very rarely arouse themselves from
thtir dreams and leave their boarding
house mattresses early enough to watch
the god of day as be appears above the
horiz ?n. But it is well worth the exer
tion.
Several mornings aftor iny arrival at
the sea-shore I was Invited to join a fish
ing party and to'd to be reedy soon after
son rise. I was, of coarse, anxious to
make my first visit to toe host fi hlng
spot near “Sycamore Drop. ’ as oid U cle
Davy (oar boatman) called it. S : 1 was
up and dressed quite early, a u finding
that none of the other girii had complet
ed their toilets l took LuailinMiatsweet,
sad story that shows bow nob'.e a woman
can be) ind started out on tho wide ver
anda to er j :y the pure morniiig air and
await their coming.
Just as I opened the doer and stepped
out a scene met my g- z > that was su
blimely beautiful. The sky was of the
clearest, deepest ezure, 88 :a around the
horizon, where It was a brilliant rose-
color fringed—with gold,
T:ie ocean flecked wi'.h myriad liny waves
Changeful uud 11 eke ring like the lights and
shades
(in our lives) There a dark blue billow,
like a day or mourning, mlngilDg with r.
bright silver-crested wave-fit symbol of
a day of festivities and gladness—spread
out far as the eye could reach.
The graceful sea gulls were riding the
waves and a school of porpoise disported
themselves, taking their morning bath.
Away off in the distance a white wing a
yacht was Baillrig idly along, looking
like a huge bird.
Add now as I gaz'd tho sun appeared!
Little by little it came into view, as if it
were rising ont of the very heart of the
ocean. First it seemed a narrow band of
gold growing gradually bresdt r until it
took the form of a crown; and in a mo
ment more the whole grand, unbroken
circle of light was arisen before me.
Like a great burnished bali of pure gold,
it burst upon my sight, tt ling the air
with an amber bazi and decking the
crested waters with diamonds and pearls,
sapphires and emeralds!
It was a beautiful spectacle.
There is but one perfect artist in all
the universe, and he is Godl)
No pen can portray, no human band
’Twas a Pathetic Sight.
RECONCILIATION OF THE ST. REGIS
TRIBE WITH THE SIX NATIONS.
I Previous to the opening cer-i-iony ot
condolence the sachems and chiefs, whs
tad the right, seated themselv.?3 outside
the entrance to the council house, as
Abram Hill, the firekeeper by inherit
ance, “created” the council fire—a sym
bol that “the court of justice is always
The Termer Received Into Fellowship
After mm Estrangement ef 900 Teen,
leans mt Wee at the Toll ef the Tewar
ef the Obm Mighty league
At a council of the Mew York state
9x Nation Indiana recently held ou the
St Regia reservation, Franklin county,
Mew York, the tribe known-as the St
Regie was restored to the social and civil
rights of the confederacy of the Iroquois.
Vo event of greater importance has oc-
“ j JYUPUU UAH fWI VI rtj'e UU UUUlttU UttUl
intrusion unx.il it was titne to call on | can correctly paint, tbo beaaties of ua
Hawthorn—it was high noon. It was tore. Fin; art has given us exquisite lm-
r.uuhtu ty uci Miuiujm, ouo j x luwttruiy uiueaeu to kuiut tunii
would have this day sought out Rigby unhesitating, aa unmaidenly “yes” was
her custom each morning to place the
key with Mer.lb. r ., out ehe had this time
not only ken, it on her person, but had
engaged the whole attention of the serv
ant girl on hi private errands. Hencs
f’NhtfPVt “ff : - was unsw-ept ana In dls-
main in the (og room*i-iclo w?*'TTcafaecI
for, Martha Wkts to say sho was “not at
home.” i
About ttr, 3U same hour Hawthorn
emerged from his Fourteenth street
abode, fall of V'he purpose of obtaining a
companion of travel for Alma Selwyn.
He knew of a lady in the southerly por
tlon of the city who, if ehe esuid be pro
cured, would admirably suit the need
On his way he thought he would inquire
at the post-office for Me mail, being in
that vicinity.
Oa Inquiry, a letter was-handed him,
on the envelope of which the words “De
liver atonce” were underscored. Opening
it ia anxiety it proved to be irom Char
lottesvlile, and urged his presence with
out an hour’s delay, sine j Raymond waa
dangerously 111.
Scarce fifteen minutes remained to Mm
in which to take the only train by which
he coaid possibly reach Charlottesville
within twenty-four hours. A score of
matters crowded into the minute or two
he nervously stood wondering what best
to do. Among these he remembered his
Interest in Alma’s journey and also that
he had made a “business” appointment
with Benigna Bernand (or 3 o’clock.
Martha had told him where the latter re
sided. Time was pressing, and he wonld
like to get a message to both. Stepping
quickly np to a desk In the lobby of the
post office, he wrote:
Madam: Have been unexpectedly called
away by sudden illness. Please report
to Mrs. Alma Selwyn at my number,
Fourteenth street.
John Hawthobn.
TMs seemed a practicable expedient
for maMng explanations to both. He
sealed, addressed, and deposited it. In
ten minutes he was on tae train, moving
across the Potomac.
Within the dingy sitting room B mig
ns, having taken a torn and soiled vol
ume of one of the poets from the shabby
centre table, was reclining on a ricketty
lounge, impatient for the chamber work
overhead to bjLQompleted.
Martha, with the Inherent tappy-go-
or her race, woe taking matters
coolly. Occasionally Benigna could hear
the swisu of the broom, and then all
would be still. She wouid then petulant
ly sing out for Martha to “tmrry up! 5
Whereupon, for a moment, the appear
ance of great activity would be revived
upstairs, soon to exhanst again in si
lence. ,,, ^ ,
Tuus time went on, while the woman’s
gaze wandered pecdulously from her
book to the open door and back to the
book, perhaps /ailing for an instant upon
the laded dial of the dyspeptic time
piece tieking away its existence on the
musty mantei-plece.
Negro-like, Martha continued to pause
between tar movements, and then to
make such an unoonsolonable racket os
ought to have utterly frightened away
her besetting laziness. But now she
stood as one entranced, the broom hav
ing fallen from her grasp.
The before mentioned fire plooo screen
contained a rough, wallpaper setme of a
MM harpooning a whale. Martha tad
never failed to curiously ponder that
nlctara on tar daily visits to tta room.
fa. would stand for abstracted minutes,
her dUatod oyee fixed on It. Often she
wondered “how dot man was grins Air
to i-"’ Ant fish-” and then would mutter
to hererif: “Spoeea de flub wm j set to
wan he tall de udder wayl Deeds man
would hod for git Aue under.” ^
But tta enchantment now lay not so
musk In tta common plooe econo as la
Urn tact that in soma way it tad gat
raraadwrosur. As Martha said to bar
Itations, but at best it is but glaring
counterfeit.
I was still standing with my eyes rivet
ed on the magnificent pinorama when
the cheery voice of the proprietor called
tome from below, 1 Good morning, Miss
ANDREW JOHN, JR.
[President of the Seneca Indians.)
curreil among these people since the
Revolutionary war, when, with the res
toration of peace, in 1783, the political
existence of the league of the Iroquois
was substantially ended.
These St. Regis Indians, now number
ing less tluiu 1,000, aro a dependent and
separate tribe included within the juris
diction of the state of Now York. They
are descendants of the various tribes of
the Mohawk Iroquois, who, about 1677,
becoming proselyted to the Roman
Catholic faith, forsook their old religion
and people anil migrated from the Mo
hawk valley to the banks of the St. Law
rence, where placing themselves under
the protection of the French they were
known as the “Praying Indians” and as
the enemies of thejr kindred and league.
Since that time they have not had the
brotherhood nor cousinship privileges of
the clan relation which, designated by
distinguishing “totems,” is as effectual
as the blood relation and family name
among the “pale faces.” Nor have they
been permitted a seat in the councils of
the league of Ihe Iroquois, and it is
pathos of t lie past that at this day of the
decay of that once colossal political
structure the few who yet linger cling
ing to transmitted tribal institutions
have welcomed these wanderers back
into the remnant of its confederacy. To
; ehurmed with our-ocean view, are] these few vet left to continue the law
you? Well, li am afraid j ou must ce :se ' -
no *> “-ttfftfc 4 **"
■elf:
Bindings or (looks.
H. S. Kepliart, the Mercantile librarian,
says: Boole owners are often puzzled and
annoyed by the fact that the leather bind
ings of their books seem to decay and dis
integrate, so that after a few years on the , -
shelves the binding may be picked to pieces J request
with the lingers. One cause of this is the
heat ia summer and of the library room in
winter; another and more potent reason is
the fttmes of gas aud coal, which are fatal
to several kinds of common binding. Leav
ing out of (he question the flimsy cloth
bindings which are turned out by the hun
dred thousand, the poorest bindings are
calf and sheep, for not only are the skins
tanned in a hurry and the work thus care
lessly done, hut the material is not so well
adapted to the purpose as some other kinds
of leather.
Russia leather is far superior to either,
and may Ur known by its peculiar smell,
which is caused by oil of birch, used in the
tanning. Next after Russia comes moroc
co, which is goatskin prepared by a pecul
iar secret process. The English are begin
ning to bind large books in pigskin, but it
has a thick, heavy appearance, which has
deterred its use, to some extent at least, by
American binders. Vellum is the best
binding ever made and also the most ex
pensive, and the best grades of vellum are
bard to obtain, since they are made from
the skins of stillborn calves.
The common article, made from skins of
very j-oung calves, is expensive enough to
suit the most extravagant and handsome
enough to satisfy the most fastidious.
Neither morocco, pigskin nor vellum is
affected by gas or heat, and either is prac
tically indestructible. A well made cloth
binding, however, is almost as good as
morocco, and If looks are not regarded a
binding of canvas or duck will last as long
as the book. —St. Louis Globe- Democrat.
the sachem.--.'.lip is still hereditary by
. . . ,, YVllU
the life <1 tho individual.
In 188S those St. Regis Indians peti
tioned for admission or “restoration” to
tho league that they might “recover,”
as by ancient law, their right and pro-
tection of the brotherhood which existed
prior to their withdrawal in 1077. This
n favorably considered
by the lc.-igi;.-. the “restoration” has now
! been accomplished. Of the original five
S nations (the To.scaroras werein 1712eon-
stituted the sixth nation) who ought to
have been represented at this conciliatory
council—the Mohawks(theshield), Onon-
dagas (name bearer), Senecas (door-
keejjer), Oueidas (great tree), Cayugas
(great pqx-)—there are but two recog
nized nations who remain around the
seat of their ancient “council fire"—the
Senecas and Onondagas.
The Cayugas, becoming absorbed with
other nations, have lost their right of
representation. The Oneidas, scattered
in various directions, have no longer
identity with the league. The Mohawks
abandoned their country with Brant
after the Revolutionary war, established
themselves in Canada, and. save a few
whose descendants yet remain incorpo-
As the fire died out all proceeded ta
an incioenre where a new fire was “rural
ed," beside which the “nations” seated
tbeamelvee—the Onondagas, Senecas and
Mohawks, brothers by league I.lw—«p-
parite the Oneidas, the Cayugas sal
Tun srarrin (at thiz council arrangements
wen mode that the four last should he
represented by individual delegates); sad
(be “chanter,” pacing slowly up and
down the open space by the fire, began
foie long, measured wail:
Baih-baibl
Iif-aftk-ou-tekl
Niyoo-khfo!
Bfoibhfoih!
9fc>Jo»ka*w»>yeo-tm
Haigh-haih!
Bkfo-bentA-henyon.
Haiti!
Shaty hcrarta-
Hot-yi-wis-ah -on-gl ve.
Haihl
Ka-yan-een pro-ha
Ne-ti-keo-an-ho-nen.
He-ne-ken-yoi-wat-at-y* It • s ^"^ r
Ka yan-eea KO-ha. 't'lie ^7* r
Haiti! *
Wa-hai-wek-ay-on-nhe- Their work Ik
ha. old
ITaih
Net - ho wat - y
ten-the.
Woe! Wutl
Hearken yat
We are dimiiftahat!
Woe! W >»l
The dear land (uw ba-
become a thick**.
Woe! W»at
The dear place* am 4a
aerted.
Woe!
They aro in th> k :rgrM4
They who esta!. Ushrift
Woe!
Tho Great Icogua
Yet they 1
JOHN DEER—SAH-TA-YO-KWA*.
[A St. Regis Chief.]
At the conclusion of this clam: Sachem
Webster sang the following:
Now listen ye who establish-' i /he I.eaguz
And, after a pause, con! in a 1;
Now it has become - M.
Now is notbiue but u .-sola* - -i
Alternating thereafter with
er,” who recited the rem-.ii
mournful song in the Oc.
Yo are in your graves who esta .
Ye have taken it with you an t tuo
- “chani-
»r of tin
: tongue:
■-ceJ it
der
- is nothing left but .
Woes of a I’laywrifiht.
In 17Ti!> Foote visited Scotland, and
thought traveling in the north very irk
some But he found quite a crowd of ad
mirers in Edinburgh, and what pleased
him as well, the results in cash were satis
factory. About this time he wrote some
of his best plays, including “The Minor”
and “The Liar.” In 1762 he produced
“The Orators,” which caused a great com
motion. The comedy was full of brilliant
sarcasm upon the prevailing passion for
oratory and the belief in the celebrated
Cock Lane ghost. This ghost was known
to be a favorite with Dr. Johnson, and
Foote originally intended to bring the doc
tor on the stage. Johnson would have
made an excellent subject; but, hearing of
Foote’s intention, he took prompt measures
to prevent the affront.
“What is the price of a common oak
■tick?” said Ursa Major.
“Sixpence,” returned Tom Davies.
“Why, then, sir, give me leave to send
your servant for a shilling one. I’ll have
a double quantity, for I am told that Foote
means to ‘take me off,’ as he calls it, and I
am determined the fellow shall not do it
with impunity.”
Foote knew the doctor meant what be
■aid, no be let him alone, and fixed imta^i
an George Faulkner, printer of The Dub
lin Journal, a decent, quiet man, whose
enly fault seems to have been that he wm
minus a leg. Curiously enough Faulkner
actually printed and published the play tn
which be was caricatured. But the intro
duction of Faulkner Involved the author
to a long and costly libel suit, and by a
■art of poetic justice four yean afterward
Foote lost one of his own legs.—All the
Year Round.
nleber toualde down.” After viewing It
Sridleln lte inversion, .tademurely
stepped forward to set it right by tara-
^ihe removed tta senea tor this pur*
Out now another oddity caught tar
SvoT Then wm u ptleof old rubbish
then in that chimney that aba had never
ies" before; end tt sHbuld have been re-
“uTtat mjTfou*V’ sbe said, solus; “Phil-
ii. . n . heah long afo I cum. an’ sbe
mast ha’ know’d ob disl Bat I’U clean
am so, all de samel”
"she lighted a match and touched an
outlying frsgaeatcf paper. Then she
looked on in triumph. A quick, greedy
fltme seized the combustib e heap aud
shot up tbe flua with a roar ttint waa
heard all through tae house. HaviDg
swiftly eaten away the cobwebs, it vora
ciously attacked tbe scot that was set-, ,. . ..... . ,
tied in depth on every projection. And solratanc action ongmnUy brought it
now a lor g, hungry toegue of fire touched ; from the lowest depths.
Silver la Tolcoala Ashes.
Metallurgists have lately sought for
evidence as to the origin of silver ores
ty examining volcanic ashes, and have
found in the ashes of Cotopaxi one part
of silver in 83,000 parts of ashes, and in
those of Tunguragua, Ecuador, one in
108,200. This is not much, but aa the
theory is now pretty generally adopted
that the silver we find in lodes rose in
sublimated vapor and condensed upon
the wall rock, wo may conclude that
ABRAM HILL
[Member of the Onondasa Tri!>« and Hereditary
Firekeeper of the Kix Nat ions.)
rated with the New York state tribes, are
subjects of the British crown. At this
convening of the fragment of the ones
powerful confederacy, the OnondagM
and Tonawanda-Senecas .".lose represent
ed by authority the old league. These
still adhere to the tribal laws and coun
cils.
The Allegany and Cattaraugus Sene
cas have adopted a republican form of
government, and so, losing their right
of sachem representation, on tliis occa
sion attended the council as guests nther
than participants in its civil ceremonies.
The president of the Seneca
Andrew John, Jr., also two of its
cillors—Lester Bishop and David Ste
phens—were delegates appointed to ap
pear for the Senecas and by courtesgr of
consent extended the hand of fellowship
to the “returning” tribe. It
to the Onondagas, in whose province
league was originated and who first
■towed the fifty sachem names,
continuing by heritage, and the
won da-Senecas, who, as an independent
people hold the old law, to perfocm the
ceremony of condolence and “raise" user
chiefs, or ratify tbe investiture of aU
whom the St. Regis may have hereto
fore elected.
The first ceremony was the Ilen-nun-
do-nuh-seh, or “condolence,” which had
the twofold object of lamenting with
suitable ceremonies all the deceased sa
chems and chiefs and establishing suc
cessors. This condolence was conducted
by Daniel La Fort, an Onondaga sachem;
Abram Hill, tho hereditary firekeeper,
and Thomas Webster, the llo-no-we-na-
to, or keepex- of the national wampum
belts. On him devolves the duty of
“summoning” tho “nations” whenever *
council is to take place.
And the
There you have taken your i:i: \! -
Wfcatvai.«— “ .
After this mournful ev
,inm was passed around
of the house to the oil.
mony of “hanging the hi i:t .
This significant and son-
was observed with grave
Blankets were suspended i.i
space, thereby dividing the
they might “mourn in tw -'
solemn stillness was ob 1
minutes, which indie it 1 t
was no voice from the dead
them.
Soon afterward the bla.i:
taken down, and tho time fo
ing candidates for chieftai.
come. Each candidate who.
before tho “namers” was sep.i
nounced, his merits mention •
given for his candidacy, and h
ments of courage aad person
ness extolled. This ceremony
nntil each candidate lia l been
chief, and, thus invested, ■
by harmony of relationship t-
league from which his p.’op
long been separated.
So has ended this reinarkabh
toric event. After an abseuo.
than 200 years the descendant lingerers
of the wanderers from the league return
to its shelter “restored,” and thus to
be recognized hereafter as brothers by
the confederacy of the Iroquois, whose
political importance was once courted
Dy England, and who:-e geographical po
sition made them umpires in the contest
of the French for dominion in the west!
Harriet Maxwell Converse,
le wam-
. >ne sid*
he cere-
' oegan.
.! custom
’ jusaesa
te opex
' ns, that
■ and*
' ir a few
: it there
reply to
eta were
• present
clip haa
brough:
itely aa-
i. reasons
- achieve
1 worthl-
mtinued
■ -named"
restored*
the old
- had sa
and hia-
of more
Women are not slow to comprehend.
They’re quick. They’re alive, and yet It
was a man who discovered the one reme
dy for their peculiar ailments. The mas
was Dr. Pierce.
The discovery was his “Favorite Pre
scription”—the boon to delicate women.
Why go ronDd “with one foot in tns
grave,” suffering in silence—misunder
stood—when there’s a remedy at hand
that Isn’t an experiment, but which is
■old under tbe guarantee that :f you are
disappointed in any way in it, you can
gat your money back by applying to lu
makers.
We cm hardly imagine a woman’s not
trying It. Possibly it may be troe of one
or two—but we doabt it. Think of z
prescription and nine ont of ten waiting
for it. Cany tbe news to them!
The seat of sick headache Is not tbe
brain. Ragnlate tbe stomaeh and you
core tt. Dr. Pierce’s Pellets are tbe Lit -
tie Regulators.
For a slight cut bind" on it apiece at
common brown wrapping paper such as
batchers use for wrapping meats.
Never give way tie repining. No habit is
worse than that of useless grumbling. Ac
tion «mi work will mend the worst fort-
Dyspepsia In all its forms Is not rs-
Based bat cured by Simmons Liver only
Regulator.
X provincial newspaper prints tbe fot
towing advertisement: “Wanted—A wom
an to wash, iron and milk two or three
It is os impossible for some people to mind
their own business as it is for them to have
any business of their own to mind.
“MY ONLY FAMILY MEDICINE.” •
“I tart taw a user of Slmswus Liver
ItfittiilRtor fof JBttJ JWUK| m®44
tt my own Family Medicine. It is s pure,
good and reliable madidne. My mother
before me was very partial to It.
prove a great preventive of
have often recommend It to my rnenai
und stall continue totoo* ^
“Pastor M. E Church, Falrijold, Vs.
“To J H Z-iiln & Co., Philadelphia’
, r««i wp h without a cleat
be^anSTrlMs Sta Simmons Liver
Regulator.