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the mg 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.