Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XX-NO. 925.
ATLANTA, GA., OCTOBER 21, 1893.
PF'',E: $2 00 A YEAR.
aino i £ iii Fin a 8.
for The Sunnt Sooth.
The beamy of onr city streets is marred
ftBcea whfcb cut up the bright green sward;
We know no reason wby these fences should re
main;
By their removal all the world would gain.
Remove the fences.
Our farms and country places all about
ire fenced as though to keep the world shut
out;
These relics of ac age of war long gone
Should every one, at once, be overthrown.
Remove the fences.
High fences keep the rich and poor apart.
And are the cause of many a saddened heart;
Pray, why should fences separate man from
man
When no such thing is found in our Father*
plan?
Remove the fences.
Barbed fences keep apart the “Blue and Gray,'
As though dark hatied had come here to stay;
Tear down these fences and let love bridge o’er
The chasm until it can be seen no more.
Remove the fences.
Our churches have high fences all around.
As though some stranger sheep should there be
f und;
Tear down the fence, cross o’er the line er.ch
way,
And let the love of God o’er all have sway.
Remove these fences.
* ...
*******
Build fences high and strong, and these enclose
Tobacco, liquor, anarchy and those
who would attack the 8abbath of oar land,
That they together may be a'l condemned.
Build high these fenc s.
—S. C. Bond.
St. Louis, Mo., July, 1893.
A CHAMPION or THE BRITISH
eiBL.
Sir* Invclirha Agiilnit Chaperonage In an
A ur*> of Light,
No doubt, in the days when, as did
Miss Burney’s heroines, girls went off
into hysterics on the slightest provo
cation and had to be brought to their
senses by the aid of burned feathers,
and when it was quite in the ordi
nary run of events for men to carry
off their damsels in postchaises, with
or without their leave—in such a
state of society as that Mrs. Grundy
was a useful Institution and chaperon-
age necessary ; but to-day, at the end
of the nineteenth century, when wo
men are more or less emancipated
from antiquated shackles, when they
both know and can ask for their rights,
&nd can prove that they are as capa
ble of using their freedom as wisely
as do their brothers,chaperonage need
no longer be insisted upon as abso
lutely necessary for girls any more
than for young men.
Let girls feel that they are treated
snd trusted as sensible people, and
those who have any sense and spirit
will soon prove that they can use,
without abusing, their freedom, and
in their goings to and fro in public
sre not likely to err against any of
the canons of good breeding or offend
that higher and nobler instinct which
*s an inherited gift of their pure wo
manhood.
Of course there will be numbers of
voices upraised in protest against
these opinions. Probably I shall be
told that I am bold, forward, and I
now not what else besides; that it is
quite too shocking to think of girL*
going out by themselves unprovided
lRitb a watchdog to prevent their run-
^niug out of the straight path and fall
ing into the jaws of the wild beasts
who are always prowling around the
sheepfolds.
Well, if this is the case—if men are
really so dangerous that it is not safe
or proper to allow girls to go about
alone—then in the name of both fair
play and common sense provide them
with watch dogs, and let the women
who can take care of themselves, and
do know how to care of themselves
and do know how to behave themselves
De relieved fiom a surveillance that is
neither required nor liked. It is really
time that the ghost of Mrs. Grundy
should be exorcised; that her baleful
influence should no longer be allowed
to stay young women from the enjoy
ment of simple and innocent pleas
ure, partaken of in the company
of friends and companions of
their own age, and, it they choose,
also of the other sex.
Look at those countries where
women are allowed freedom and in
dependence they desire and consider
they ought to have, and compare
America, say for an example, with
France or Spain, and see which of
them has the advantage. The time
has come to give gracefully and gra
ciously as a gift the freedom that
will be taken otherwise as a right
Women ask to be tr eated not as poor
silly sheep, but as rational human
beings.—“Independent,” in London
Telegraph.
MuofMlnrlDi Prcelom Stone*
It is well known that Mr. Edison is
now manufacturing rubies by the
pound to serve as the bearings of pho
nographs and other delicate pieces of
mechanism. But, he says, it would be
as easy a matter to manufacture sap
pbires, emeralds, garnets, and all
other guns except the diamond.
“Anybody can make those stones,”
said Mr. Edison. “As to the diamond,
that is a bard nut to crack, but it will
come one of these days, and when dia
monds are turned out by the pound
and given away in boxes of candy or
cigarettes they will reach about their
true value. Indeed, one man has al
most succeeded in makiog the dia
mond. He makes a greenish stone of
carbon and silicon which in hardness
comes between the diamond and the
sapphire and is the next hardest thing
to the diamond.” “ Yes, indeed,”
replied Mr. Edison. “It is only a
short time since half the jewellers in
the world were deceived by rubies
turned out by a Paris syndicate,
which manufactured them in the
lump like glass or coal and then broke
up the lump to suit customers. Many
of these rubies, which the most expert
could not detect from the real, were
sold in New York.
After a careful examination had
been made it was found that there
was only one difference between the
natural and artificial ruby, and that
was one which the ordinary citizeq
could not detect. That difference
was in the shape of the bubble in the
stone. In the natural ruby, where a
bubble occurs, it is round, while in
the artificial ruby it is pear-shaped.
Many of the artificial rubies, how
ever, did not contain these bubbles,
and were, so far as anybody could see,
and, as a matter of fact, real rubies.
So with emeralds and sapphires and
many other preoious stones. Their
chemical composition is well known
and any good chemist can make them.
The rubies I am making are the same
as the natural ruby, except as to col
or, and I could easily color them if
there were any necessity for it. j
want them only for their hardness. It
would be a good thing if some one
would begin to manufacture diamonds.
That would bring down the pnoe of
rock drill* and make mining and rail
road construction cheaper. The black
diamonds are now used for that pur
pose and for polishing white dia
monds.”—Thomas Edison, in New
York World.
THE CAVERN QUEEN.
OR
Colonel Charlton's Heiress.
BY MARY E.
[COPYRIGHTED.]
BRYAN.
DBAfiOED
TO
DlCATl
BT
Bailor See* 01* Two Ihlpaatr ■ B*t«*
Befor* 01* Bye*.
A few days since the telegraph
brought to San Francisco from the
north a brief account of the tragic
death of two sailors, Isadore and John
Sheldon, in Japanese waters, aod the
rescue of Theodore Anderson, who
was brought from Yokohama to Vic
toria still suffering from his terrible
experience.
Anderson has written to a friend
few particulars of the thrilling adven
ture.
The three men mentioned left the
schooner Arieties on June 1, eighty
miles off Yen-os-Kuna, and after get
ting a dozen seals lost sight of the
schooner. At nightfall they heard
the vessel’s guns and pulled in the di
rection of the sound. Next morning
they heard the guns again, but the
!>ound was as far off as ever, and fin
ally they lost the schooner altogether.
The adventure is best told in Ander
son's own words:
“The water every hour was getting
worse aod we could see a gale was
rising, so we prepared for it. We
took the fifteen seals that were in the
boat with the mast and oars and tied
them securely to the painter for a sea
anchor.
A shark, however, soon made away
with the skins, and we were obliged
to replace them with our guns. As
we were lashing the ammunition box
also to the rope we capsized. The air
compartments in the ends righted the
boat at once. All three of us got in
again and started to bail the boat, but
soon had to give it up as a bad job
In spite of all we could' do the boat
capsized repeatedly,
left us weaker.
The fourth time Johnny was loet.
r noticed him a short distance behind
when I was swimming for the boat,
and just as I glanced around on get
ting to the boat I saw the swish of a
shark’s tail and knew Johnny was
done for. The same shark got all onr
provisions when the boat went over
first. Tne sixth time we capsized Isa
dore was lost.
“As midnight came on it grew calm
er, and, after bailing oat with the
cump&ss-box, which, ^being lashed to
the boat, was not earned away. I sat
down to wait. Two days and two
nights I sat there helpless and alone,
without a particle of food, a drop of
water, an oar, or a sail. Then I wash
ed up on a little island. I crawled
out on handS and knees, and a little
way up the beach found two baskets
of gulls' eggs, which tpe natives had
been gathering. They found me soon,
and when I said 'Yokohama' they
nodded their heads and beckoned.
Then, seeing I was too weak to walk,
they took time to carry me. They
took me to tbeir fishing village, cared
for me several days, and then gave me
donkey to ride to Yen-os-Kona,
CHAPTER XXXVII.
▲ woman’s resolvb.
The Countess Delorme did not re
sist. Her lithe form, instinct with
magnetic vitality, palpitated against
his own. She had drifted back to an
hour long past: She was once more
girl, stealing out of convent walls to
meet her beautiful young lover in the
shadows of the forest, throwing the
warnings of wisdom to the winds at
thebidding of passion.
Was be too drifting* back to those
years when he wore the first down of
young manhood on his lip, and love
and present pleasure were all in all?
“I love you,” he whispered. You
thrill every fibre in me. Yoar eyes
your hair, your breath—what a witch
you are! No other woman can stir me
so.
“No other woman—not Aimee
Wharton?”
That name broke the spell. His arm
relaxed its passionate clasp.
•‘We will not speak of her,” he said
coldly. “My feeling for her is differ
ent. She—” He stopped. She fin
ished the sentence for him.
“She is to be your wife.”
“Yes.”
She drew herself away from him.
“Oh, sweet consistency! Ob, jewel
of man's love—what pure paste thou
art!” she cried, with a scornful laugh.
This determined suitor of another
tells me that no woman can move him
as I do!”
“You are not a man,” he said, looking
at her, and thinking be never saw jew
els so brilliant as her scornful eyes
You cannot understand that a man
does not want his wife to stir his
pulses to fever-heat like that. It is
tender respect he wishes to feel for
her. He would keep from her the
knowledge of any more ardent feel
ing.
If he is wise he does not marry a
woman who has knowledge of such
feeling, or who will exact it from him
No, my fair Countess Erma, men love
women like you, but if they know the
woman-nature they do not marry
them.”
She started from her seat and look
ed at him with eyes that flashed.
“Yon dare say this to me—” she be
gan.
“Hush!” he said, patting his hand
on her arm in his quiet, masterful
way. “You misunderstand me. I mean
no slar upon your purity as a woman.
I mean only this, that a man of the
world chooses as his wife, not
the woman who stirs his blood with
passion, bat the one whose affection
is a rest and a comfort. He marries
sweet girl who has been well
brought up, and kept from the contact
that might • brash,off her bloom of
modest reserve. She upholds his so
cial dignity; she loves him tenderly,
orders bis house cosily and keeps its
peace intact and herself from gossip.
whence I was sent to Yokohama. The peace intact ana nerseu from gossip, to
British consul paid my passage home.” j This is the sort of wife a man wants.” j
| “You will never marry such an one.
Yon will never marry Aimee Whar
ton. It is she you are trying to de
scribe.”
“I shall marry Miss Wharton in
spite of your confident prediction and
your mother’s soothsaying,” he an
swered. “It does not at all snake my
belief in myself and the power of my
own will.”
“You shall see that every word she
uttered in that prophetic trance will
come true.”
He laughed, but she saw the shadow
of anxiety on his face.
“It is a pity the prophetic trance, as
you call it, could not have lasted long
enough for me to have heard all the
evil that is to befall me,” he said
scornfully. “Perhaps you thought I
had better have it in broken doses.
What I did here was bad enough -my
fortune to pass from me. In what
way I would like to know. This
special prediction makes me hopeful
that you and Madame Nevo are false
prophets. My money is too securely
invested to make it possible that I can
lose it.”
“How did you come in possession of
your fortune?”
“I inherited it from my adopted
father.”
“It was left directly to you?”
“No; it was left to another. At her
death, according to the will, I fell heir
to the money.”
“And she died?”
“Yes.”
He shifted his glance so as not to
meet her look that probed him
through with its searching keenness.
Presently she said, speaking in a slow,
peculiar way:
“You are sure she is dead?”
He started, and turned his face-
grown suddenly pale—upon her.
“Dead! of course I am sure. She
has been dead five years. Why do yon
ask that question—and in such a
tone?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes
strange mistakes are made and strange
things turn up. Take this wine; yon
look ill.”
She filled the glass with Burgundy
and handed it to him. He drank tho
wine hastily.
' This room is like a stove,” he said.
Then after a pause: “Your confoun
ded fortune-telling has had an effect
on my spirits, in spite of my knowing
it is all humbug. When am I to have
the rest of that dose of doom?”
I don't know. You needn’t have
it at all,” she answered oarelessly.
“1 must have it.”
“Come then, one week from tonight.
You shall hear nothing, but you shall
see with your own eyes what, will con
vince you of my power. You shall
take a glimpse baokward as well as
forward.”
He looked at her gloomily. “I hate
the past,” be said. “ it is a dead thing.
All dead things should be buried and
1 forgotten.
“But if there are ghosts that refuse
stay buried?”
[OOHTIHPBP ON SKCOHd3paO*.J