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THE SUNNY SOHTO: ATLANTA, GEORGIA SEPTEMBER 23 1893
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ni‘; .• t in the storm wind, and I
loud* ^ jn tfiy bear..
lfcTel ' ln the weather; each to the
Sth the truant sea wind
it****Jgand dreary; one
fro th"
[- 3<bI _octavia Dockery.
ie r^^[» How -
^ £^ rld " Fttip *
LSIXVY SOUTH.
r';“«
^‘ rt u far as it *oes-of the
v mat Athens. The verandas are
PL by Grecian Ionic columns. The
Kthe building is a triumph of
Lht zreat pictures adorn the dell-
1 ", 1 walls, which represent the
ll/^es Of dress, beginning with
t parents, »nd so onto the present
1 The first work gives Adam and Eve
L, (0 re their expulsion from Paradise.
Cod represents the primitive sav-
■L.idnz varments from the skins of
C The others represent respect-
f A e B^ypiian mode of dress,
Leefal Grecian styles, then comes
■Medieval, and Rsrmissance, finally
twith the f*ouis XVI and the mod-
The building contains several
’ Isn forms of some of Chicago's
hjercfcant tabors. Among the best
L of George W. Mathews, seated on
C(ily caparisoned bav charger. The
Lent is furnished with elegantly ap-
L] reception rooms, and a cool, invit-
liiz/i in the rear overlooks the la-
[e Pack building is a very attractive
(to the editors, and is indeed a pretty
leture- To one who know* nothing of
■piper making, considerable instruc-
fmay be gained by an hour spent seek-
information in tne Puck office.
* * *
he Women’s Building I have spoken
elore, but one handkerchief on exliihi-
| on the lirst Moor is worthy of note. It
ttwo women five years to complete
1 work of art, after which feat they be-
i blind. Two cents a day was the
rmous price they received for the mas-
Kxtjuiaite designs of flowtrs,
Ksrs ami taring are delicately worked
Jbe linen. The women were English,
are comments to the indignant reader.
* * *
Mammoth Crystal cave is a true
kesentation of the great cave in S mth
iota. Two years of bard and constant
or were employed to put up this min
ers cave, There is one million pounds
Iryntal left in the original cave, for
Iry pound that has been brought here.
Is cave is in the Horticultural Building.
« * *
liitTalo Bill’s Wild West Show is at
tting immense crowds. It is the bes
lection of beautiful horses and goo<
prs, “rough and ready" riders in tin
fid. And Colonel Cody is an idea
Ihe Transportation Building as a l
hting rendezvous for the railroad no
li'His rings of every imaginable desci
liare exhibited there. The Palin
lace cars are exquisitely appointed- 1
■t beautiful tapestry hangings, mar
lies, and costly silver. Bath rooi
iving parlors and thousands of late
■veuiHuts render them ideal apartmei
P >> aguer Cars are equally beauti:
seem to be the more popular of
‘ /“^“trance of the Transportat:
the lvomanesque style of architr
h>e Festival Music Hall is a greal
L luugaritiii Concerts are in s
w, under the direction of Th<
■ .£*■ Cue thousand men’s voice
whioh « overpowe
■famous t, T le P nma donna’s sei
I icnUr tli0U K b the voices ai
C? b^utrful. I have hearc
fisnowing critics remark.
* * *
the*Wild '°r r a T° 8 t0 get a P erfec
inch Vn ^ l - v ’ let bi 'u take an e
he -eacl,^ 0lU ' nt0 tbe bluell
d loofah * rMt white Fou
Morion* , iUt lll m—The fountain it
i and f. . i0n ° { cUi4l ky white
m i .? r r uut * d with great 1
w hose throats the cAstal ■
Iwers above th!! ati uiini s tration bu
I* r'ght T 8ar J 0QQ ding struct!
«»’« ahs:
™ C “iom U !
MXSsSWi
»usnort ,,f I8 i ? n chanting seen
Itheeoul rw l * bt poss
l «etthe irlnr! lr sa8ce Ptlbilities r
tth wondlr Tha^ We ar °
>t words T ,', Thoughts that lie toe
d , our br ^iU3-^nd a
iDe] v holds If ! a f y of the Ks P q W
^ “ 8 aloft her symbol out tb
a “ajeatic, be.
Etchi; tf °l*^ erican 8 race aid di
'intcrrui W1 d sweet music come
onVhrl a S| w . afted toward us bv th
f U *ool h t ia . t play continually
•eoun? bo80m of the Lagoon. I C s
! °hSl s e ^fei lled l ° tbe fact > that:
“ficercM 2 )1? a ve 1 8 ,tige of all thi
J °he wm V18lbl ?' Thft & rt bt
® 01 the earth after the close in n
her. The foreigners, who have learned to
honor our great country, will, together
with the Arabs, ‘‘fold their tents, and as
silently steal away ’’ But the memory of
this international display will live forever
in the annals of history, andenuch Ameri
ca’s prosperity and glory.
We cannot but regret that the palaces of
white and gold must fall under the hand
of man, who reared them, but we are glad
and nroud to call ourselves children of
the Kepublic which fathered and fostered
the glorious scheme until its magnificent
success was a thing unprecedented.
Long live America! Long live the glory
of her fame.
The State Buildings, forty in number,
are the most difficult things to “do” prop
erly on the grounds.
Beginning at the first street, we visit
South Dakota, a gray stone structure,
rather pretty and stately. The most no
ticeable thing inside is a stone cottage,
made out of Dakota’s minerals, which
were collected and arranged by the ladies
of Custer county. A picture of Lincoln
worked with hair by a negro woman. It is
a work of art. A quilt draped about the
picture is the handiwork of man, who
worked steadily on it ten hours a day for
eight months before it was finally comple
ted. It is of wool material, and is com
posed of 7,809 pieces.
A REMARKABLE CHRISTMAS
GIFT.
For Thr Sunny South.
ESS A PAUSED A MO-
ment as she drew up the
fifth consecutive bucket
of water, and pushing
back her faded sun-bon
net, stood listening to
the word of tbe old hymn
whose notes rung in a
sweet, but quavering
voice, were borne to her
through the epen win
dow.
“God works in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform ;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
His voice is in the storm.”
Stepping briskly to the big wash-pot a
few feet off, whose contents were already
bubbling from the brisk fire which crackled
beneath, she emptied half the pail-full in,
and returning to the well seated herself on
» * »
a coarse wooden bench whereon was a tin
Next in order comes the Washington
BuildiDg, which is made of logs, and is the
most unique structure on the grounds.
The logs are 35 feet long. The miniature
farm contained in the building is abso
lutely the most correct imitation that
could be made. A wheat field, with the
threshes, plows, horses, workmen, springs,
and every well-remembered thing about a
farm is represented even to the chickens
and house-cat; men leaning against rick
ety gates mop their heads with red banda
nas, and we almost fancy we s-^e tbe band
move that holds a big palm-leaf fan, as the
farmer surveys the harvest with compla
cent smile. It is delightfully realistic.
* * *
In the California honse the great horse
and Sir Arthur Knight, who rides him,
made of prunes, is thie centre of attraction.
Tne beast looks just ready to curvet to the
strains of martial march we hear from
some nook in a distant part of the build
ing.
A tower of olive oil bottles is very pret
ty, and a picture up stairs of a cat farm
has been commented upon pretty gener
ally. It will command a fabulous price.
Colorado building is artistic, but not
especially interesting.
The Indiana has beautiful recepti n
rooms, and priceless hangings. The Ill
inois is chiefly interesting on account of
the magnificent grain picture which
adorns an immense space in one end. A
wagon, built of 25 kinds of wood is quite
a pleasing curoslty. It will be impossible
to describe it all. I only take the most
notable points to describe. We turn a
corner, and begin another street.
* * *
The Ohio also has elegant reception
rooms. Michigan has a fine exhibit of
birds and animals. Nebraska is not very
pretentions. North Dakota shows a fine
grain exhibit. Cows, sheep and horses
look remarkably life like. Arkansas is
attractive on account of her beautiful
architecture of its exterior. Kan
sas is a most fascination sec
tion. A fine collection of North
American animals in their native haunts
prepared by L. L Dyche is the finest thing
in the state buildings. We actually shud
der In contemplating it. A mimic railway
runs around the main exhibit, with train
constantly puffing its small way along—
More of the State Buildings—anon—
Ruby Beryl Kyle.
The Columbian Historical Novels.
Vol. IX , Independence; a story of the
American Revolution. By John R. Mu-
sick. Illustrated with eight full-page, half
tone engravings and fourteen other illus
trations, by F. A. Carter. Cloth, 12mo,
480 pp , gold stamps, etc. Si 50 New
York. London and Toronto: Funk & Wag-
nalls Company.
_Tuis story covers a period of forty years
the real inception of the struggle for
independence to its triumph. A thrilling
narrative. Pen pictures of the great strug
gles of our forefathers are given with
painstaking fidelity to truth.
Daring these straggles the great majori
ty of the common people in England were
undoubtedly in sympathy with the Ameri
cans, and the anthor has done well ia this
lively narrative to give prominence to the
parts taken in behalf of American Inde
pendence by many noble foreigners, among
whom were Lafayette,Pulaski,De Kalb.De
Barre, Duplesses, De Fleury, and other
Frenchmen; and Pitt, Fox, Burke, Barre,
and other Englishmen.
The following titles of chapters from the
table of contents in the book are supple
mented at the end of the volume by a hif -
torical index occupying twelve pages:
Rugby Tavern; Stamps, Tea, and Chains;
First Blood of the Revolution; Flora Mc
Donald ; Royalty Repulsed ; Tbe Doctrine
of Freedom; The Hessian; Washington
and Lafayette; Burgoyne’s Campaign;
Brandywine; the Horrors of Valley Forge;
Monmouth; Wyoming and Cherry Valley;
Sir Arthur at Camden; The Traitor; Hope
and Despair; The Sword of Cornwallis;
etc.
No American home should be without a
copy of this book, which is certainly one of
the most absorbing of this admirable
series of historical novels, full of action,
and as truthful as its recital is startling.
The illustrations are all beautiful and
the letter-press exceedingly good-
As in the proceeding volumes; this book
contains a romance interwoven with the
history, which, while not objectionable to
the student, will charm its readers, young
or old.
A lawn stand suitable lor piazza,
afternoon teas or for out of doors is
made of wicker work, and provided
with three or four tiers, set in a
tripod, to hold the plates, cup3 and
saucers. It is very light and yet per-
f ectly strong.
pan of collards, and began vigorously
to wash the greens for dinner.
It was hardly half past ten o’clock
Monday morning, but already the girl was
tired. She had risen before day as usual,
had cooked their plain breakfast by lamp
light, as usual; had giveu the children
theirs and dismissed them to school; had
poured out coffee for Grand-mother, Papa
and Dick, carried Mama a dainty bit of
toast (made from Saturday’s light-bread)
to taKe with htr tea, packed the broDze
bucket with biscuits and bacon and eggs
for Dick and her Father, because they
would work at some distance from home
and couldn’t come to dinner; had hur
riedly brushed up her sick mother’s room,
and rolled Grand-ma’s rocker to the sun
niest window, and fed Amy’s pet kitten—
all this she had done as usual. As to
whether she had eaten her own breakfast
or not, really she couldn t have told
you. Her time was so wholly oc
cupied always that she seldom sat
at table, but ate for the most part
while she served the others; taking her
hurried meals always in a most irregular
manner. This being Monday morning
was a little harder than usual by means of
sundry little extra jobs, such as getting
up the soiled clothes lor wash, etc , which
that day of the week imposes. Generally
a negro washerwoman came, and she had
only'the starching and ironing to do; but
to day the old darkey had failed to arrive,
and Tessa had nerved herself to the added
duty of laundress, quieting her mother’s
protestations by a cheerful assurance that
she was only going to wash a few of the
most needful garments, and send for
Aunt ’L'za tomorrow. It had been hard
work, however, and now that the clothes
were ready to boil (they made a big bun
dle tied up in the white, clean sheet), she
must stop to cook dinner, serve it, wash
dishes, and so forth. Her back ached, her
heart ached—she was discouraged.
Flirting the collard leaves up and down
in the shining tin pail of water, she began
talking to herself, as she sometimes aid in
these cheerless moods.
‘‘It is all very well for poor dear grand
ma to console herself by singing her favor
ite hymns,’’ she said, “but she doesn’t
realize what this life is to a young girl
like me—nothing but work, work, work,
day and night, year in, year out, and no
rest even on Sundays! Does God care, I
wonder? Surely He knows. Did God
make me for nothing but tuis?”
Her voice choked; tears of despair filled
the soft dark eyes for a moment, then she
hastily wiped them away with her bonnet
frill, and bravely went on with her task.
“Ralph! Ralph 1” she cheerfully called
to the ten-year-old brother who was “her
man Friday,” “make a fire in the stove
now, quick, ‘hun’—dinner is going to be
late to-day.”
With a merry “all right” attentive Ralph
flew to do her bidding. A good boy in the
main, having a bright, brave, unselfish
nature, Ralph was not perfection by any
means, for boys will be boys, and he loved
fun as well as most boys do. Sometimes
he grew tired of the hard life too, and was
cross even to Tessa, whom he loved dear
ly ; but nevertheless he was a great com
fort to their motherly sister. The other
children were sent to school, but he was
kept at home, like her, to do the work,
because he was handy and willing. He
milked and fed the cow, churned, swept
the yards, helped her scrub the pots and
pans and kitchen floor, and sometimes
draw water, but not often, for the well
was deep and the chain heavy, and this
she thought too hard a task for the slender
boy. It was his delight to sit up with
Tes»a at night in her own little room,
where she kept a lamp burning late while
she mended tne family socks and stock
ings and did such littie odd jobs. Some
times she made pretty trimming, bat
never for herself—it was to sell, or to
adorn tbe aprons of her younger sisters,
in whose neat appearance she took great
pride. Ralph, beiDg bright and ambitious,
studied bis lessons in spelling and geogra
phy, and recited them to her or to hia
father, as opportunity occurred.
There were nine children. The three
eldest were away; the oldest brother in
Philadelphia learning to be a machinest;
the oldest girl teaching a country school
in Georgia, and the next sister, who was
“the beauty” of the family traveling as
companion and possible heiress to a
wealthy lady who had taken a fancy to
her. Tessa, fourth child and third daugh
ter, not being a b. y to make her way in the
world; not being a graduate and there
fore a teacher, and not being a beauty and
in consequence a favorite of rich people,
was the eldest child at home, and at the
age of 17 a very accomplished domestic
drudge. Mr. Talbot was well-known to
be a poor man, and his sickly wife
a poor manager—more as the result
of circumstances than of individual
deficiency in both cases, if tireless
industry could have taken the place of
business shrewdness, (the fashionable
way of expressing heartless rascality in a
majority of instances), Mr. Talbot might
have been a better provider. As it was,
bis family had a hard time of it, and his
daughter Tessa the hardest time of all.
Not being natnrally very brave or ener
getic, her affectionate and sympathetic
disposition had developed a nature origi
nally dreamy ana rather indolent into a
character of nobility and unselfishness as
rare as it was beautiful. She had thus be
come the main stay of the household, and
the chief comfort of her invalid mother.
1 The life she led was monotonous ia the
extreme—to brew her yeast; to make and
bake her bread; to patch and darn and
sweep and scrub; to wait on younger
children and try to make home as cheerful
for all as she could ; th*sa were her daily
tasks A lover of books, she had no time
to read; a lover of pictures she
saw none, excepting the few old
prints on the walls; a lover of music, she
had never been able to taks music lessons,
though to do this and to become a music
teacher had been the great ambition of
her heart.
Her pretty hands had grown brown
from rough work, and her pretty feet were
incased in the shabbiest of shoes, albeit
the stockings which showed through them
were always ne*tly mended. As to dress,
she was shabby enough altogether; and
had not even the privilege of shopping for
herselt once a year.
Lately her father had been giving her
$2 00 per month “pin money” (and noth
ing to “pin” but oid wrappers!) but this
she spent for necessaries for the family—
her father in the sublime ignorance of
manhood, knowing nothing of the true
situation. The old Grandmother, who,
three years befire, at the death of her on
ly daughter, had come to live with her
son, soon discovered, half-blind though
she was, just what the case was, and be
ing like all good Christians, a great ad
mirer of faithfulness, had taken Xessa
very soon into her warmest affection.
The good old soul pitied the poor,
young burdened life, and would fain have
lightened her load, but being very feeble
aud infirm could only sit by the fireside,
or in pleasant weather by the sunny win
dow, and knit socks for her son and his
boys, and sing the sweet oid hymns where
by she hoped to cheer her favorite grand
child. Tessa did not know that day after
day she thought of all the precious prom
ises she had stored up in her memory for
these days of dim outward vision; and
that morning and night she pleaded with
the Father aud Tne King for the reward
promised to all who do tneir duty faithful
ly. She saw in her heroic grand child,
going about her hard daily tasks, the very
spirit of seif-denial and devotion inculca
ted by the Divine precept, and she loved
to remind the Siviour of it, over and over,
as His own good work. Tessa was all
unconscious. She read her little old
Bible faitnfully, at least a few verses
every night, and said her short
but reverent prayer, morning and night;
but it was in a dim, unsatisfactory, hope
less sort of way, for she couldn’t see
through the darkness. She had no pleas
ure in this world excepting the pleasure
of doing good, and even that was limited
to bitter poverty.
Christmas was coming, it was cold De
cember weather. The tired, chapped
hands were busy enough, for night after
night, long after Rilph and all had gone
to sleep, Tessa in her little room was
dressing cheap dolls and manufacturing
cornucopias and doll furniture of tinted
paper—using the tin-foil f or lovely silver
goblets of diminutive size. Truly, life
seemed a dreary chance to her, as she
leaned her weary head on her hand every
now and then, and looked down at the
coarse apron which half concealed her
shabby dress. But then it was pleasant
to give pleasure to others, she thought,
ana she was thankful that mamma’s cape
was made and papa’s slippers finished,
and d^ar old graudma’s warm rog done
before Christmas. And to think of tuc bar
gain she had got in baying that zephyr for
8cts. an oz. when a week later it had risen
to 10! This was all truly encouraging.
All the presents were ready now, and
safely hid in the big basket under her
bed. There was Dick’s tie, and Ralph’s
pretty book; and EffiVs doll, and Laur
ence’s marbles and Willie’s tin horn and
J-innie’s tea set, besides lots of little beau
tiful articles contrived out of almost im
possible beginnings; and on the top shelf
of the enp-board were hidden the candy,
and the little round cakes, iced over, and
the pretty, queer-looking egg*, that had
been boiled in bits of bright calico. All
the gifts had been of her own purchasing
or contriving—she had not had to call on
poor, dear hard-worked papa for a single
cent Everj body’s present was there,
everyboay’s but hers and she never want
ed anything, she told herself. And now
she would go to bed
It lacked but two days to Christmas and
the usual Christmas weather had set in.
It was bitterly cold.
The wind was blowing fiercely, and the
blinds and sashes shook and rattled. She
wondered if there would be sleet or snow?
Ugbf what a night it would be for fire,
tired Tessa thought, aud she sleepily went
to the window, and hoisting the sash for a
moment looked out. What was that
against the dark December sky ? Mercy I
Col. Dunsmore s new house w*g burning,
and only three doors away! Hastily
throwing an old shawl over her head, and
rapping at her father’s door and calling
Dick as she flew down the hall, she was
on the street in an in9taut, running and
crying "fire!” with ail her mwht
Tue cry was soon taken up, the bells
rung, the engine and its attendant crowd
of men and b >ys arrive, and all was com
motion as tht.y fought the roaring flames.
Tessa, first to reach the doomed house,
had ruug the door bell furiously, still cry
ing "Fire! Fire!” and owaers and servants
half-dressed and wild with excitement,
lost no time in making their escape.
Col Dunsmore was a member of con
gress, and in Washington, but his wife
and two daughters were awakened by
Tessa’s cries of alarm. Oae of the inner,
lower room, wa9 occupiea by Miss Del-
gar, Col. Dunamore’s wealthy maiden
aunt, a cripple from rheumatism, aud
quite helpless. With the forgetfulness
dotn either of heartiessness or fright, this
lady had been forgotten, her maid even
having forsaken her, and to her wild
scream of terror, Tessa was first to re
spond. Rushing down the broad hail,
which was already fast filling with smoke,
she dashed into the invalid’s chamber,
ani snatching a pair of heavy woolen
blankets from the bed, hastily enveloped
her in them, and in leas than five min
utes had rolled her in her cripple’s chair,
down the smoky hall ana delivered
her, fainting with fear and half-
suffocated, to her alarmed relations.
Having done this in less time than you can
read of it, Tessa ran quickly home to quiet
the fears of her nervous mother.
The children went to the Christmas tree
at Town Hall two nights after. They
brought packages for all, for Tessa having
as usual nothing suitable to wear, had
staid at home and entrusted her offerings
to Dick.
Grandmother got her pretty rag, father
his easy slipners, m unma her warm cape,
and Tessa, lo! a sealed envelope to direct
ed to “Miss Tessa Talbot, care Santa
Klaus,” and whi<-h being opened was
found to contain “The grateful thanks of
Emily Delgar to the noble girl who saved
her life,” and—a check for S10 000
S Q. Hale.
Lunar Lovers.
They have no eye for tbe romantic
or beautiful, those musty, fusty old
astronomers from Cambridge to Mount
Hamilton, or else tney would days
ago have informed a delightful
world—
All the world loves a lover—
that the man in the moon has a sweet
heart; is, in fact, a lover. And tney
are Kissing there, too, those lunar
lovers, kissing in full view and are not
even blusbiDg about it.
There is no astronomer at hand to
explain this, nor tell how long the
wholly delightful state of affairs is to
last, so the readers of the Sun should
lose no time in taking a vi^w of the
moon, for the phenomenon may
fade from sight in a few days or
nights.
If you have strong, clear vision this
interesting couple may be observed by
tbe unaided eye, but tbe outlines of
the victor, the beautiful girl who has
joined the man in the moon, can be
seen better, of course, if you use a
pairofnoera glasses in peeping at
them. You will see the man in the
moon rejuvenated, invigorated, and
generally spruced up and improved,
looking down not at you, but at the
face of the pale, fair girl who is to the
right as you look, her profile cutting
off part of his full face, for her lips
are approaching his. Her sweet
heart’s the man in the moon, and he
ought to be mighty glad to see her,
for she has not been up there to visit
him since last September, nearly a
year ago. Then, a9 now, they fell to
kissing directly they met, and then, as
now, they are luckier than any mor
tals, for, so far as lunar observations
permit us to judge, there is no one
around to remind them that what they
are doing is wicked. And yet they
seem to be enjoying it.—New York
Sun.
Glimpses Through Life’s Windows.
By the Rev. J. R. Miller, D D. Selec
tions from his writings. Arranged by
Evalena I. Fryer. 18mo, ornamental bind
ing, with portrait, 75 cents. T. Y. Crow
ell & Co., Boston ana New York.
The compiler of this charming little vol
ume has been very successful in her search
through Dr. Miller’s writings for nuggets
of wisdom. Nearly two hundred selec
tions, full of genuine piety and practical
Christianity, illustrated by witty and apt
anecdotes, fill this dainty book.
Not a page which does not suggest a
thought and give an impulse “to a truer,
better, richer, holier life.
As tbe compiler says:
“Many of the paragraphs here gathered
contain incidents or illustrations through
and by which the truth is presented.
Erery one knows the value of good illus
trations; they help to make the teaching
clear and they help to fix the lesson in the
memory.” She rightly believes that this
collection of short paragraphs will prove
of value.
The little volume is daintily printed and
bound, and has a fine portrait of Dr.
Miller, which will undoubtedly prove ac
ceptable to the large and ever increasing
circle of readers whom he has delighted
and instructed by his “Silent Times,”
“Making the Most of LHe,” and other
works. T Y. Crowell & Co.,
New York and Boston.
lie Suspected an Ad.
“Oh!” she exclaimed as she entered
the police station in a state of great
anxiety; “you will help me, won’t
you?”
The officer in charge assured her
that he would if it was in his power.
“I have just met with a great loss,”
she continued.
“What was it?”
“Diamonds. I had just finished re
hearsal when ”
“Are you an actress?”
“Yes.”
“And lost your diamonds?”
“Yes.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, but you’re in
the wrong place. This is police head
quarters. It isn’t any newspaper of
fice.”—Washington Star.
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