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THE SUNNY SOUTH.
THE KEY TO SUCCESS.
If Jacob’s sons, coming toward Egypt, had
lost everything on the way, if they had ex
pended their last shekel, if they had come up
utterly exhausted to the corn-cribs of Egypt
and i't had been found that Benjamin was
with them, all the storehouses would have
swung open before them. And so, though
by fatal casualty we may be ushered into the
eternal world; though we may be weak and
exhausted by protracted sickness—if, in that
last moment, we can only just stagger and
faint and fall into the gate of heaven—it
seems that all the corn-cribs of heaven will
open for our need and all the palaces will open
for our reception, and the Lord of that place,
seated at his table and all the angels of God
seated at their table and the martyrs seated
at their table, and all our glorified kindred
seated at our table, the King shall pass a por
tion from his table to ours, and then, while
we think of the fact, that it was Jesus who
started us on the road, and Jesus who kept
us on the way, and Jesus who, at last, gained
admittance for our souls, we shall be glad if
he has seen of the travail of his soul and been
satisfied, and not be at all jealous if it be
found that our divine Benjamin’s mess is five
times larger than the rest. Hail, anointed
of the Lord ! Thou art worthy.
My friends, you see it is either Christ or
famine. If there were two banquets spread,
and to only one of them you might go, you
might stand and think for a good while as to
which invitation you had. better accept, but
here, it is feasting or starvation. If there
were two mansions offered and you might
have only one, you might think for a long
while, saying, “Perhaps I had better accept
this gift, and perhaps I had better accept
that gift,’’ but here it is a choice between
palaces of light and hovels of despair. If it
were a choice between oratorios, you might
say, “I prefer the ‘Creation,’ ” or, “I prefer
the ‘Messiah ’ ” But here it is a choice be
tween eternal harmony and everlasting dis
cord. Oh! will you live or die? Will you
sail into the harbor or drive on the rocks?
Will you start for the Egyptian corn-crib, or
will you perish amid the empty barns of the
Canaanitish famine?
Oh, Promise Me 1
(A PARODY.)
Oh promiee me that some day
Not far off,
You’ll listen to my pleading
Low and soft.
The favor that 1 ask ia not so great—
Much loneliness ’twonld dissipate.
I would that my voice could as thrilling be
“As the tiny bird on yonder tree.
Then I might plead; oh, promise me!
Oh, promise me that some day
I shall be
As dear as that “newsy sheet”
To thee,
Caressed, reread, ne’er seem a bore;
Why will you read it o’er and o’er?
Say, sweetheart, did I
On that day,
Promise to share you with
A paper, say?
No, then I was first, now can’t I be?
Oh, promise me, oh, promise me!
A. A.
RECLUSt OF THE CUMBERLAND.
BY ARTA BOWEN.
A MID yonder copse there dwelt
a hermit, who, though
young in years, was re
nowned for the sanctity of
his life. None knew whence
he came nor from what cause
he had limited the circle of his life to the
seclusion of his cell. He rarely spoke, save
when his ghostly advice or kindly prayer was
needed, and lived upon herbs and the wild
fruits which grew near-by.
Every morning and evening he came out
and sat in the selfsame place, only a few
feet from the entrance to his cabin.
I visited him often, for we were friends
now. One day I found him unusually moody
and holding in his hand a coil of beautiful
hair, in which he seemed wholly absorbed.
He apparently forgot my presence and after
a deep silence he burst forth in a wild and
passionate recital of his life.
“This,” he exclaimed, “is Marius the
Hermit—Marius, who was once the proud
but who is now the humble. Day after day,
I sit there in that cabin by the dim light of
my lamp, while without, the south wind
sighs and over these cramped, knotted, and
half-palsied fingers I draw this wisp of golden
hair.
“Long, weary years of grief, pain, and
misery,” he continued in an abstracted mood,
“have passed since this fair treasure was pur
chased—and that, too, with the price of
blood. Tears have watered it, time has
spoiled its lustre, and, yet to, me it is the
most beautiful treasure that ever delighted
the eye of man. And as I caress it, it sends
the blood rustling through my shrunken
veins, and a thrill of passion darts along
every nerve in my being.
“It was long ago, that I first saw Frances.
I wss young then—scarce twenty-one when
I was called upon to fight against the rebell
ious States. My muscles were firm and well-
rounded by the constant and vigorous exer
cise to which I was accustomed. I was tall,
strong, and big-limbed. But look, now, at
my drawn and withered frame. I had often
longed to sip the wine of battle and now the
time had come.
“But before leaving for the army a grand
feast was spread for me that I might meet
once more, at least, the companions of my
youth, and bid the maidens of the neighbor
hood good-bye.
“The guests had assembled and every New
England maiden present had bound a wreath
of spruce and golden rod (for it was in the
early autumn) and these were wound around
the swords until a mist of soft yellow per
vaded the dining-hall, and the warm smell of
the new pine hung above our heads. Many
maidens were sending their hearts away to
the Southland in the keeping of their brave
soldier lovers.
“Among these Yankee maidens sat a
Southern girl in silent thought and with such
beauty and queenly gentleness as my eyes
had never before rested upon. The Southern
clime had given a delicate coloring to her
cheeks; and her figure was slightly voluptu
ous. She was dressed in a soft clinging
gown of pale blue. I see now this shade of
blue hanging over the fields as the south
wind fans the cheek with (he first breath of
spring. Her eyes were gray; her hair, which
was like spun gold, and tied in a loose knot,
hung low on her neck, and was the consum
mating crown of her loveliness.
“Little did I dream that day, of a great and
consuming love taking possession of me.
But from the moment my eyes first rested
upon her I loved her—loved everything she
touched—loved the very air she breathed.
For three days I haunted her footsteps, a
prey to such fits of utter hopelessness and
cold despair as I thought no man ever before
had suffered.
“I had learned that she was the only
daughter of a rich Southern planter and had
been for two years in an Eastern college, was
now spending a short time with a friend be
fore going to her home. , •
“On the fourth day as I returned from a
walk through the woods I met this beautiful
vision among the pines and, discarding all
restraint and formalities, I poured out my
heart to her with such eloquence that she
could not cast me off. She sighed and told
me how wide apart our countries were, and
putting her hand in mine she said we must
wait until the cruel war was over.
“Yet, I was happy—happy beyond ex
pression, for in that brief moment I learned
that she loved me. The pines chanted a love-
song, the murmur of the sea was joyous, and
all nature seemed brighter and sweeter than
everbefore as we strolled up the path, fringed
with luxuriant growth to the cottage gate,
where we soon parted, and as I walked home
ward, the birds, the fields, and forests echoed
my heart’s gladness. The next day I was off
for the army, and long were the days and
nights that followed.
* * *
“Three years had now passed and in the
meantime our army had penetrated into the
heart of the South. I had heard nothing of
my Frances. I had written time and again to
her and to her friends, but every effort proved
fruitless. But
‘Oh, that hallowed form was ne’er forgot!
Which first love traced;
Still it lingering haunted the greenest spot
On memory’s waste.’
“Deep despairs settled upon my mind, and
I cared naught for life nor the scenes around
me, and one day I was severely wounded in
a heavy skirmish at Cumberland Gap and left
on the field to die. I know not how it hap
pened ; I found myself in the hands of rude,
big-hearted mountaineers who nursed me
back to life.
“For days I lay unconscious, but slowly
recovered and was at last able to wander
through the woods and among the rocks and
caves and while strolling aimlessly one day
much farther than usual through the dense
forest I came upon a cavern which I had not
seen nor heard of before. Standing a short
distance away in the underbrush, I saw a man
emerge and spring up the path—then another
and another. Pucsled to know what this
meant, I crept stealthily up to the mouth of
the cave and peered in, but could see noth
ing. I went inside and secreted myself in a
little nook, where I could look out on the
western r streaked with crimson and dark
blue. A white mist was lying in thin wreaths
along the river valley below. I could hear
the murmur and splashing of waters as if
wrestling with rocky shoals; and looking
further down the valley I saw a small village
situated at the foot of the mountain. The
scene was transcendently beautiful.
‘‘Suddenly I was called to myself by hear
ing loud voices within the cave and bent my
e ar to listen and soon discovered that 1 was
I n the den of a band of guerrillas. They
»5
were planning for the night and black de
signs were in their hearts.
“There was an old mill situated on the
bank of the river not far from the village.
Their plans were to plunder and burn the vil
lage and orders were given to that effect.
Then all was silent again. I sat still, and
there was an ominous silence in the cavern.
Then I saw a thin curl of pale smoke rise
from a hut at the edge of the river, and now
the inhabitants of the cave were in an uproar.
They rushed out like demons and soon the
whole mountain seemed to be filled with
them as th*ey hurried down the road leading
to the village.
For an hour the air was rent with the
shrieks of women and children and the shouts
of men. Then all was quiet once more.
“I heard the men returning to the cave and
shrank closer to the wall. They brushed my
clothes in passing. The crumbs of the former
repast were brushed away and they prepared
for a night of revelry. The hot blood of pil
lage and rapine was in their brains and the
fiercest revelry went on for half the night.
“It was late when one of the fiends be
thought himself of the old mill.
“ ‘The mill! The mill ! The mill must go
down !’ he cried. And instantly a hundred
demons dashed out and down the mountain.
“I shall never know what made me feel
faint at that, and what it was that filled my
soul with a heavy, black foreboding, but I
sprang after them and soon saw the flames
shooting up from the old mill and suddenly a
woman’s form appeared at the window of the
observatory. She stepped out on the parapet
and kneeled and clasped her hands in prayer.
“The wildest emotions of agony and joy
sprang up within my heart. I forgot every
thing else in the strangeness of that moment.
I leaped forward and out of the sudden inspi
ration of my whole being burst a wild cry
‘Frances!’ She rose to her feet, and looked
down with the mingled expression of hope
and terror. Then above the hissing of the
flames I heard the faint cry, ‘Marius!’
“Now the strength of twenty lions was in
my heart. I tossed off, as if they had been
baby fingers, the two sturdy men that held
me, and with one bound I reached the door
and dashed up the stairway. In another
moment I was by her side. She had swooned
away, but at my touch, her form quivered and
she opened her eyes ; and by heaven ! it was
worth the three years of agony I had suffered
to see the look of joy in her eyes as they met
mine, and to feel the thrilling clasp of the
hand and to know that her heart was still
mine.
“I fijAt the platform sway. In an instant
we would be launched into eternity. I
gathered up all my strength and pressing her
closer to my heart, sprang straight out and
dropped into the deep river below.
“It seems that I was spared to suffer and,
when I regained consciousness, they showed
me her grave. I have lived here by her tomb
ever since.”
Doctor: “No, I only wanted to keep you 1
quiet while I wrote the prescription.”
1858 - 1896.
LOGY GOBB INSTITUTE.
ATHENS, Gfl.
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September 9th.
MRS. M. A. LIPSCOMB, Principle,
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There, that will do.”
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