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THE SUNNY SOUTE
With Lee In Virginia.
A Story of the American Gvil War*
By G.A.HENTY,
Author of “Bonnie Prince Charlie,” “In Freedom’s Cause,” “In the
Reign of Terror,” Etc.
My Dear Readers: The great war be
tween the northern and southern states of
America possesses a peculiar interest to
u». not only because it was a struggle
between two sections of a people akin to
us in race and language, but because of
the heroic courage with which the weaker
party, with ill-fed, ill-clad, ill-equipped
regiments, for four years sustained the
contest with an adversary not only pos
sessed of immense numerical superiority,
but having the command of the sea. and
being able' to draw its arms and muni
tions of war from all the manufactories
of Europe. Authorities still differ as to
the rights of the case. The Confederates
firmly believed that the states, having
voluntarily united, retained the right of
withdrawing from the Union when they
considered it for their advantage to do so.
The northerners took the opposite point
of view, and an appeal to arms became
inevitable. During the first two years of
the war the struggle was conducted with
out inflicting unnecessary hardship upon
. the general population. But later on the
character of the war changed, and the
Federal armies carried widespread de
struction wherever they marched. Upon
the other hand, the moment the struggle
AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION.
suer
was over the conduct of the conquerors
was marked by a clemency and generos
ity altogether unexampled in history, a
complete amnesty being granted, and
none, whether soldiers or civilians, 'being
made to suffer for their share in the re
bellion. The credit of this magnanimous
conduct was to a great extent due to
Generals Grant and Sherman, the former
of whom took upon himself the responsi
bility of granting terms whiqh although
they were finally ratified by his govern
ment, were at the time received with an
ger and indignation in the north. It was
impossible, in the course of a single vol
ume. to give even a sketch of the nu
merous and complicated operations of the
war. and I have therefore confined my
self to the central point of the great
struggle—the attempts of the northern
armies to force their way to Richmond,
the capital of Virginia and the heart of
the Confederacy. Even in recounting
the leading events in these campaigns, I
have burdened my story with as few de
tails as possible, it being my object now.
as always, to amuse as well as to give
instruction in the facts of history.
Yours sincerely.
G. A. HEN'TY.
Chapter I.—A Virginia Plantation.
"I won't have it. Pearson: so it's no use
. your talking. If I had my- way you
shouldn't touch any of the field hands.
And when I get my way—that won't be so
very long—t will take good care you
shan’t. Rut you shan't hit Dan.”
“fit is not one of the regular house
hands." was the reply, "and I shall ap
peal to Mrs. Wingfield as to whether I am
_ to be Interfered with in the discharge of
’ my duties."
"You may appeal to my mother if you
like, but I don't think that you will get
much by it. I tell you you are a deal too
fond of that whip. Pearson. It never was
heard of on the estate during my father's
time,and it shan't be again when it comes
to be mine, I can tell you. Come along.
Dan; I want you at the stables."
So saying. Vincent Wingfield turned on
his heel, and followed by Dan, a negro
boy of some eighteen years old, he
walked off toward the house, leaving
pony as soon as he was able to sit on one.
A pony had been deept for his use during
his holidays at his uncle's in England, !
and upon his return Vincent had, except
during the hours he spent with his father,
almost lived on horseback, either riding
about the estate or paying visits to the
houses of other planters.
For an hour or more every day he ex
ercised his father's horses in a paddock
near the house, the major being wheeled
down in an easy chair and superintend
ing his riding. As these horses had little
to do and were full of spirit, Vincent's
powers were often taxed to the utmost,
and he had many falls; but the soil was
light, and he had learned the knack of
falling easily, and from constant practice
was able at the age of fourteen to stick
on firmly even without a saddle, and was
absolutely fearless as to any animal he
mounted.
Good rider as he was, he was some-
hat surprised at the horse the overseer
Jonas Pearson, the overseer of the Orang- | had selected for him. It was certainly a
ery estate, looking after him with an evil
expression of face.
Vincent Wingfield was the son of an
English officer, who. making a tour in the
states, had fallen in love with and won
the hand of Winifred Cornish, a rich Vir
ginian heiress, and one of the belles of
Richmond. After the marriage he had
taken her home to visit his family in Eng
land: but she had not been there many
weeks before the news arrived of the sud
den death of her father. A month later
she and her husband returned to Virginia,
as her presence was required there in
reference to business matters connected
with the estate, of which she was now
the mistress.
The Orangery, so called from a large
conservatory built by Mrs. Wingfield's
grandfather, waa the family seat, and-the
broad lands around it were tilled by up
ward of two hundred slaves. There were
in addition three other properties lying in
different Darts of the state. Here Vin
cent. with two sisters, one older and one
younger than himself, had been born.
When he was eight years old Major and
Mrs. Wingfield had gone over with their
children to England, and had left Vincent
there for four years at school, his holi
days being spent at the house of his
father's brother, a country gentleman in
Sussex. Then he had been sent for unex
pectedly. his father saying that his health
was not good, and that he should like his
son to be with him. A year later his
father died.
Vincent was now nearly sixteen years
old, and would upon coming of age as
sume the reins of power at the Orangery,
of which his mother, however, would be
the actual mistress as long as she lived.
Jonas Pearson had been overseer in the
time of Major Wingfield, but his author
ity had at that time been comparatively
small, for the major himself personally
superintended the whole working of the
estate, and was greatly liked by the
slaves, whose chief affections were, how
ever. naturally bestowed upon their mis
tress. who had from childhood been
brought up in their midst. Major Wing
field had not liked his overseer, but he
had never had any ground to justify him
making a change. Jonas, who was a
northern man, was always active and
energetic: all Major Wingfield's orders
were strictly and punctually carried out,
and although he disliked the malt, his em
ployer acknowledged him to be an excel
lent servant.
After the major's death Jonas Pearson
had naturally obtained increased -power
and authority. Mrs. Wingfield had great
confidence In him. his accounts were al
ways clear and precise, and although the
profits of the estate were not quite so
large as they had been in her husband's
lifetime, this was always satisfactorily
explained by a fall in prices, or by a part
of the crops being affected by the
weather.
She was aware, however, that there
was less content and happiness on the es
tate than there had been in the old times.
Complaints had reached her from time to-
time of overwork and harsh treatment.
But upon inquiring into these matters,
Jonas had always such plausible reasons
to give that she was convinced he was in
the right, and that the fault was among
the slaves themselves, who tried to take
advantage of the fact that they had no
longer a master's eye upon them, and ac
cordingly tried to shirk work, and to
throw discredit upon the man who looked
after the interests of their mistress: and
so gradually Mrs. Wingfield left the
management of affairs more and more in
the hands of Jonas, and relied more im
plicitly upon him.
The overseer spared no pains to gain
the good-will of Vincent. When the lat
ter declared that the horse he rode had
not sufficient life and spirit for him, Jo
nas had set inquiries on foot and had se
lected for him a horse which, for speed
and bottom, had no superior in the state.
One of Mrs. Wingfield's acquaintances,
however, upon hearing that she had pur
chased the animal, told her that it was
notorious for its vicious temper, and she
spoke angrily to Jonas on the subject in
the presence of Vincent. The overseer
excused himself by saying that he had
certainly heard that the horse was high-
spirited and needed a good rider, and that
he should not have thought of selecting
it had he not known that Mr. Vincent
was a first-class rider, and would not care
to have a horse that any child could man
age.
The praise was not undeserved. The
gentlemen of Virginia were celebrated
as good riders, and Major Wingfield, him
self a cavalryman, had been anxious that
Vincent should maintain the credit of his
English blood, and had placed him on a
splendid animal, with great bone and
power: but there was no mistaking the
expression of its turned-back eye, and
the ears that lay almost flat on the head
when any one approached him.
“It is a splendid animal, no doubt, Jo
nas," he said the first time he inspected
it, “but he certainly looks as if he had a
beast of a temper. I fear what was told
my mother about him is no exaggeration;
for Mr. Markham told me today, when I
rode down there with his son, and said
that we had bought Wildfire, that a
friend' of his had had him once and only
kept him for a week, for he was the
most vicious brute he ever saw.”
“I am sorry I have bought him now,
sir," Jonas sad. “Of course I should
not have done so if I had heard these
things before; but I was told he was one
of the finest horses in the country, only
a little tricky, and, as the price was so
reasonable, I thought it a great bargain.
But I see now I was wrong and that it
wouldn't be right for you to mount him;
so I think we had best send him in on
Saturday to the market and let it go for
what it will fetch. You see, sir, if you
had been three or four years older it
ivould have been different; 'but naturally
at your age you don’t like to ride such a
horse as that.”
“1 sha'n’t give it up without a trial.”
Vincent said shortly. “It is about the
finest horse I ever saw: and if it hadn't
been for its temper, it would be cheap at
five times the sum you gave for it. I
have ridden a good many bad-tempered
horses for my friends during the last
year, and the worst of them coudn’t get
me off.”
“Well. sir. of course you will do as you
please," Jonas said: “but please to re
member if any harm comes of it that I
strongly advised you not to have any
thing to do with it, and I did my best
to dissuade you from trying."
Vincent nodded carelessly and then
turned to the black groom.
“Jake, get out that cavalry saddle of
my father's, with the high cantle and
pommel and the rolls for the knees. It's
like an armchair,, and if one can’t stick
on on that, one deserves to be thrown.”
While the groom was putting on the
saddle Vincent stood patting the horse's
head ar.d talking to it, and then, taking
its rein, led it down into the inclosure.
“No, I don't want the whip,” he said,
as Jake offered him one. “I have got
the spurs, and likely enough the horse's
temper may have been spoiled by knock
ing it about with a whip: but we will try
what kindness will do with it first.”
“Me no like his look. Massa Vincent;
he debble ob a hoss dat."
"I don't think he has a nice temper,
Jake; but people learn to control their
temper, and I don't see why horses
shouldn't. At any rate we will have a
try at it. He looks as if he appreciates
being patted and spoken to already. Of
course, if you treat a horse like a sav
age he will become savage. Now, stand
cut of the way."
Gathering the reins together and plac
ing one hand upon the pommel, Vincent
sprang into the. saddle without touching
the stirrups: then he sat for a minute or
two patting the horse's neck. Wildfire,
apparently disgusted at having allowed
himself to be mounted so suddenly,
lashed, out viciously two or three time's!
and then refused to move. For half an
hour Vincent tried the effect of patient
coaxing, but in vain.
“Well, if you won't do it by fair means,
you must by foul," Vincent said at last,
and sharply pricked him with his spurs.
Wildfire sprang into the air. and then
began a desperate series of efforts to rid
himself -of his rider, rearing and kicking
in such quick succession that he seemed
half the time in the air. Finding after
awhile that his efforts were unavailing,
he subsided at last into sulky immova
bility. Again Vincent tried coaxing and
patting, but as no success attended thes->
efforts, he again applied the spur sharp
ly. This time the horse responded by
springing forward like an arrow from it
bow. dashed at the top of his speed
across the inclosure, cleared the high
fence without an effort, and then set off
across the country.
He had attempted to take the bit in his
Ueth. but with a sharp jerk as he drove
the spurs in, Vincent had defeated his
intention. He now did not attempt to
check or guide him. but keeping a light
hand on the reins let him go his own
course. Vincent knew that so long as
the horse was going full speed it could
attempt no trick to unseat him. and he
therefore sat easily in his saddle.
For six miles Wildfire continued his
course, clearing every obstacle without
abatement to his speed, and delighting
his rider with his power and jumping
qualities. Occasionally, only when the.
course he was taking would have led him
tc obstacles impossible for the best
jumper to surmount, Vincent attempted
to put the slightest pressure upon one
rein or the other, so as to direct it to an
easier point.
At the end of six miles the horse’s
speed began slightly to abate, and Vin
cent, abstaining from the use of his
spurs, pressed it with his knees and
spoke to it cheerfully, urging it forward
He now from-time to time bent forward
and patted it, and for another six miles
kept it going at a speed as great as that
at which it had started. Then he al
lowed it gradually to slacken its pace,
until at last first the gallop and then the
trot ceased, and it broke into a walk.
"You have had a fine gallop, old fel
low,” Vincent said, patting it; “and so
have I. There's been nothing for you
to lose your temper about, and the next
road we come upon we will turn our
face homeward. Half a dozen lessons
like this, and then no doubt we shall be
good friends.”
The journey home was performed at a
walk, Vincent talking the greater part of
the time to the horse. It took a good
deal more than six lessons before Wild
lire would start without a preliminary
struggle with his master, but in the end
kindness and patience conquered. Vin
cent often visited the horse in the stables
and, taking with him an apple or some
pieces of sugar, spent some time there
talking to and petting it. He never car
ried a whip and never used the spurs ex
cept in forcing it to make its first start
Had the horse been naturally ill-tem
pered Vincent would probably have failed,
but, as he happened afterward to learn,
its first owner had been a hot-tempered
and passionate young planter, who.
stead of being patient with it, had beat
it about the head and so rendered it res
tive and bad-tempered. Had Vincent not
laid aside his whip before mounting it
for the first time, he probably would
never have effected a cure. It was the
fact that the animal had no longer a fear
of his old enemy, the whip, as much as
the general course of kindness and good
treatment that had effected the change
in his behavior.
It was just when Vincent had estab
lished a good understanding between
himself and Wildfire that he had the al
tercation with the overseer, whom he
found about to flog the young negro D'an.
Pearson had sent the boy half an hour
before on a message to some slaves at
work at the other end of the estate and
had found him sitting on the ground
watching a tree in which he had discov
ered a 'possum. That Dan deserved pun
ishment was undoubted. He had at
present no regular employment upon the
estate Jake, his father, was head of
(he stables, and Dan had made himself
useful in odd jobs about the horses, and
expected to become one of the regular
stable hands. The overseer was of
opinion that there were already more ne
groes in the stable than could find em
ployment and had urged upon Mrs.
Wingfield that one of the hands there
and the boy Dan should be sent out to
the fields. She, however, refused.
“I know you are quite right, Jonas, in
what you say. But there were always
four hands in the stable in my father's
time, and there always have been up to
now; and though I know they have an
easy time of it, I certainly should not like
to send any of them out to the fields.
As to Dan, we will think about it. When
his father was about his age he wed to
lead my pony when I first took to riding,
and when there is a vacancy Dari must
come into the stable. I could not think
of sending him out as a field hand, in the
first place for his father's sake, but still
more for that of Vincent. Dan Used to
be told off to see that he did not get
into mischief when he was a little boy,
and he has run messages and been his
special boy since he came back. Vin
cent wanted to have him as his regular
house servant: but it would have broken
old Sam's heart if, after being my fath
er's boy and my husband's, another had
taken h.s place as Vincent's.”
And so Dan had remained in the stable,
but regarding Vincent as his special mas
ter, carrying notes for him to his friends
or doing any odd jobs he might require!
and spending no small portion of his
time in sleep. Thus he was an object of
special dislike to the oveseer; in the fi«t
place because he had not succeeded in
having his way with regard to him, and
in the second because he was a useless
hand, and the overseer loved to get as
much work as possible out of every one
on the estate. The message had been a
somewhat important one. as he wanted
the slaves for some work that was ur
gently required; and he lost his temper,
or he would not have done an act which
would certainly bring him into collision
with Vincent.
He was well aware that the lad did not
really like him. and that his efforts to
gain his good will had failed, and he had
foreseen that sooner or later there would
be a struggle for power between them.
However, he relied upon his influence
with Mrs. Wingfield, and upon the fact
that she was the life owner of the Or
angery. and believed that he would be
able to maintain his position even when
Vincent came of age. Vincent, on his
side, objected altogether to the overseer’s
treatment of the hands, of which he
heard a good deal from Dan. and had al
ready remonstrated with his mother on
the subject. He, however, gained noth
ing by this. Mrs. Wingfield had replied
that he was too young to interfere in
such matters, that his English ld*as
would not do in Virginia, and that, natur
ally. the slaves were set against the over
seer; and that now Pearson had no longer
a master to support him. he was obliged
to be more servere than before to enforce
obedience. At the same time it vexed
her at heart that there should be any
severity on the Orangery estate, where
the best relations had always prevailed
between the masters and slaves, and she
had herself spoken to Jonas on the sub
ject.
He had given her the same answer she
had given her son: "The slaves will work
for a master, Mrs. Wingfield, in a way
they will not for a stranger. They set
themselves against me. and if I were not
severe with them I should get no work
at all out of them. Of course, if you wish
it. they can do as they like: but in that
case they must have another overseer.
I cannot see a fine estate going to ruin.
I believe myself some of these Abolition
fellows have been getting among them
and doing them mischief, and that there
is a bad spirit growing up among them.
I can assure you that I am as lenient with
them as is possible to be. But if they
won't work I must make them, so long
as I stay here.”
And so the overseer had had his way.
She knew that the man was a good ser
vant. and that the estate was kept in
excellent order. After all. the severities
of which she had heard complaints were
by no means excessive; and it was not
to be expected that a northern overseer
could rule entirely by kindness, as the
owner of an estate could do. A change
would be most inconvenient to her. and
she would have difficulty in suiting her
self so well another time. Besides, the
man had been with her sixteen years,
and was. as she believed, devoted to her
interests. Therefore she turned a deaf ear
to Vincent’s remonstrances. i
The overseer was the' first to give his
version of the story about Dan’s conduct:
for on going to the house Vincent found
his sisters, Rosa and Annie, in the gar
den, having just returned from a two
days’ visit to some friends in Richmond,
and stayed chatting with them and listen
ing to their news for an hour, and in the
meantime Jonas had gone in and seen
Mrs. Wingfield and told his story.
“I think. Mrs. Wingfield." he said when
he had finished, "that it will be better for
me to leave you. It is quite evident that
I can have no authority over the hands
if your son is to interfere when I am
about to punish a slave for an act of
gross disobedience and neglect. I found
that all the tobacco required turning, and
now it will not be done this afternoon ow
ing to my orders not being carried out,
and the tobacco will not improbably be
injured in quality. My position is diffi
cult enough as it is; but if the slaves see
that instead of being supported I am
thwarted by your son, my authority is
gone altogether. No overseer can carry
on his work properly under such circum
stances.”
“I will see to the matter, Jonas," Mrs.
Wingfield said decidedly. “Be assured
that you have my entire support, and I
will see that my son does not again inter
fere.”
When, therefore Vincent entered the
house and began his complaint he found
himself cut short.
"I have heard the story already, Vin
cent. Dan acted in gross disobedience,
and thoroughly deserved the punishment
Jonas was about to give him. The work
of the estate cannot be carried on if
such conduct is to be tolerated; and once
for all, I will permit no interference on
your part with Jonas. If you have any
complaints to make, come to me and
make them: but you are not yourself to
interfere in any way with the overseer.
As for Dan, I have directed Jonas that
the next time he gives cause for com
plaint he is to go into the fields.”
Vincent stood silent for a minute, then
he said quietly:
“Very well, mother. Of course you can
do as you like; but at any rate I will not
keep my mouth shut when I see that
fellow ill-treating the slaves. Such things
were never done in my father's time,
and I won't see them done now. You said
the other day you would get me a nomi
nation to West Point as soon as I was
sixteen. I should be glad if you would
do so. By the time I have gone through
the school, you will perhaps see that I
have been right about Jonas.”
So saying, he turned and left the room
and again joined his sisters in the draw
ing room.
“I have just told mother that I will go
to West Point, girls,” he said. “Father
said more than once that he thought it
was the best education I couid get in
America.”
“But I thought j’ou had made up your
mind that you would rather stay at home,
Vincent?”
“So I had, and so I would have done,
but mother and I differ in opinion. That
fellow Jonas was going to flog Dan. and
I stopped him this morning, and mother
takes his part against me. You know, I
don’t like the way he goes on with the
slaves. They are not h;\lf so merry and
happy as they used to be, and I don't
like it. We shall have one of them run
ning away next, and that will be a nice
thing on what used to be considered one
of the happiest plantations in Virgi
nia. I can’t make mother out; I
should have thought that she would have
been the last person in the world to have
allowed the slaves to be harshly treated.”
“I am sure w r e don't like Jonas more
thon you do, Vincent; but you see mam
ma has to depend upon him so much.
No. I don't think she can like it; but you
can't have everything you like in a man,
and I know she thinks he is a very good
overseer. I suppose she could get an
other.”
Vincent said he thought ~ that there
could not be much difficulty about get
ting an overseer.
“There might be a difficulty in getting
one she could rely on so thoroughly,”
Rosa said. "You see a great deal must
be left to him. Jonas has been here a
good many years now. and she has learn
ed to trust him. It would be a long time
before she had the same confidence in a
stranger; and you may be sure that he
would have his faults, though, perhaps,
not the same as those of Jonas. I think
ou don't make allowance enough for
mamma. Vincent. I quite agree with you
s to Jonas, and I- don't think mamma
can like his. harshness to the slaves any
more than you do; but every one says
what a difficulty it is to get a reaily trust-
orthy and capable overseer, and, of
course, it is all the harder when there is
no master to look after him.”
"Well, in a few years I shall be able
to look after an overseer,” Vincent said.
“You might do so, of course, Vincent,
if you liked; but unless you change a good
deal. I don't think your supervision would
amount to much. When you are not at
school you are always on horseback and
away, and we see little enough of vou.
and I don’t think you are likely for a long
time yet to give up most of your time to
looking after the estate.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Vincent said,
after thinking for a minute; "but I think
I could settle down, too, and give most
of my time to the estate, if I was respon
sible for it. I dare say mother is in a
difficulty over it, and I should not have
spoken as I did; I will go in and tell her
“ A Man’s Discontent
Is His Worst Evil.”
Spring is hardly the time
for discontent, unless per
chance it is caused by one's
own carelessness. By this
time every one should have
looked after human house
cleaning in changing the sur
charged blood from an im
pure, clogged state to one
of cleanliness and purity.
Discontent will no longer reign if the
wise coarse is pursued of taking that
marvelous Spring Medicine, Hood’s
Sarsaparilla. It is a blood purifier par
excellence and by its action takes away
all danger of any blood diseases and
kidney or liver troubles. It never
disappoints.
Run Down—“I am a wounded veteran
Of the civil war. I get all run down by
spring time and not able to work. Hood’s
Sarsaparilla always cures me. My wife
praises it for curing nervousness and rheu
matism.” J. A. Robinsox, Colchester, Conn.
Scrofula - “ My wife was afflicted with
scrofula for fifteen years Scabs formed on
sores. Hair was matted. Her skin was
rough, itching and burning. Six bottles of
Hood’s Sarsaparilla worked a complete
cure.” M. E. Stevkxs, Charlotte Center, N. Y.
Asttima T was troubled with asthma
for many years, being worse spring and fall.
No medicine availed until I took Hood’s
Sarsaparilla which completely cured me.
Many others heard of my cure and they use
Hood’s.” C. L. Rhodes, Etna, Ohio.
Female Troubles—“ i would have wel
comed death any time as a relief from
catarrh of the womb and other serious
troubles. The best physicians said my
case was helpless. I stopped taking every
thing else and took Hood’s Sarsaparilla.
New life camo to me and I gained until I
am perfectly well and strong.” Mbs. Emma
J. Fisher, Lonedell, Missouri.
Backache — “ I was miserable and
tired, hod no appetite and felt sore all over.
My back ached so that when I stooped I
could hardly straighten up. First bottle
Hood’s Sarsaparilla helped and three
bottles made me strong and well.” J. J.
Eichbaiteb, 928 Meldrum Ave., Detroit,Mich.
understood the whole performance, and
on being placed in a new barrel immedi
ately goes on a tour of exploration.
Its stationary diet is raw beef, but it
will eat almost anything. AVoe be unto
the passing fly or beetle that happens to
be feeling tired. The fish has it at a dart,
after which it will swish around the bar
rel a few times tili it has eaten its prey,
and then quietly wind up in the center,
calmly look you in the face, and let out a
few bubbles, as if to say, "I did it that
time.” It is also very fond of grasshop
pers, gallinippers. millers, and in fact,
bugs or insects of any kind.
It has been traveling with the outfit to
and fro across the Colorado desert for
over two years, and came up just as
■ blithely for Its beefsteak at Volcano
Springs, when it was 335 degrees In the
shade on the side of the barrel, as It did
at Ruthven in the winter, where the ther
mometer registered only 20 degrees.
It takes but little care to ke^p the fish
alive. Once a day a bucket of water 11
taken from the barrel and a fresh on<
put in its place. The entire barrel is
changed only two or three times a year.
It is naturally a little bit “skittish’*
about strangers, but never fails to appeal
at Mr. Corbin's whistle.
“Yes." said Mr. Corbin the other even
ing. as he fed the fish a f tew moths that
had been caught around a. lamp, “I think
a great deal of my fish. I have come in
from a trip late at night, turned Into bed,
and happened to think of the fish; and I
couldn't go to sleep till I had got up and
went to the barrel and whistled and shov
ed my hand in the water and felt him
nibble. Then I could go to bed and rest,
knowing that he was all right.”
EPILEPSY 0R £ S LUKC
A member of my family having been
cured in a wonderful manner of this terri
ble disease, I will, for the benefit of hu
manity, gladly make known the remedy,
FREE OF CHARGE, to any one address
ing MRS. H. JONES. Box 606, Philadel
phia, Pa. Sample package of remedy
mailed for 5 cents to cover postage.
dfccd&Si
Vincent found his mother sitting as he
had left her. Although she had sided with
Jonas, it was against her will; for it was
grievous to her to hear complaints of the
treatment of the slaves at the Orangery.
Still, as Rosa had said, she felt every
confidence in her overseer, and believed
that he was an excellent servant. She
was conscious that she herself knew noth
ing of business, and that she must there
fore give her entire confidence to her
manager. She greatly disliked the strict
ness of Jonas; but if, as he said, the
slaves would not obey him without, he
must do as he thought best.
“I think I spoke too harshly, mother,”
Vincent said as he entered; ‘‘and I am
sure that you would not wish the slaves
to be ill-treated more than I should. I
dare say Jonas means for the best.”
‘‘I feel sure that he does. Vincent. A
man in his position cannot maKe himself
obeyed like a master. I wish it could be
otherwise, and I will speak to him on the
subject; but it will not do to interfere
with him too much. A good overseer is
not easy to get, and the slaves are always
ready to take advantage of leniency. An
easy master makes bad work, but an easy
overseer would mean ruin to an estate. I
am convinced that Jonas has our inter
ests at heart, and I will tell him that I
particular!j* wish that he will devise some
other sort of punishment, such as de
priving men who won’t work of some of
their privileges instead of using the
lash.”
“Thank you. mother. At any rate, he
might be told that the lash is never to be
used without first appealing to you.”
“I will see about it, Vincent, and talk
it over with him.” And with that Vin
cent was satisfied.
(To Be Continued.)
Hood’* Pills core liver Ills, the non-irritating and
- only cathartic to take with Hood’a Sarsaparilla.
CATFISH
That Travels Constantly and Is as
Tame as a Dog.
One of the most curious of pots is owned
by W. S. Corbin, foreman of one of the
Southern Pacific brl.jge gangs. It is a
full-grown catfish that will weigh about
a pound and a half.
One day, over two years ago, while the
outfit was employed in repairing a bridge
over Coyote Creek, an arm of the Santa
Ana river, the whole gang, consisting of
30 men, lay off atnd went fishing, and as
a result four small live catfish were cap
tured. Three of them came to grief—one
by jumping out of a barrel in pursuit of a
fleeing fly, another from an internal rup
ture caused by pouring the water from
the barrel into a tub. the fish striking
the tub with the first outpourings from
the barrel, and the third by being thrown
from the barrel by a violent shock caused
by a freight train trying to
get on a sidetrack out of the way of a
passenger train and coming into sudden
contact with the outfit car on which the
fish were.
The remaining one is almost as Intelli
gent as a cat or a dog. When Mr. Cor
bin wishes to feed it or fondle it. he sim
ply goes to the barrel and whistles, and
up comes the catfish with a bound. It
will nibble at a piece of steak, suddenly
grab it, and, darting to the bottom of
the barrel, will not appear again until it
wants another price or is called by the
whistle.
It enjoys a tickling under the chin al
most as much as a sixteen-year-old
maiden, and nothing pleases it more
than to have its feelers pulled. It also en
joys being gently squeezed.
When Mr. Corbin leaves his hand in the
water the fish will stroke it gently with
its fins and turn over on its back, the
meantime emitting bubbles much after
the manner In whwich a cat would pur.
In transferring it from one barrel to an
other it will lie perfectly stiil, as if it
“AMONG THE OZARKS.”
The Land of Big Apples, is an attrac
tive and interesting book, with views of
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fruit-raising in that great fruit belt of
America, the southern slope of the
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IN
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AN AMERICAN INDUSTRY.
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The Alkahest Magazine.
A high-class southern magazine, has been
growing for four years, and during last
year deubled its subscription list twice. It
is doing great good in bringing to the front
unknown southern writers of merit. Its
quarterly prize contests for poems, stories
and essays cannot be entered by profes
sional writers, so every time unknown
writers will be brought out. The last short
story prize was won by a bright young
man on the first story he ever wrote.
Cash prizes are also given to those who
make the most words out of the letters
in the word Alkahest. $1.00 a year; 10c
single number.
THE ALKAHEST LYCEUM BU
REAU.
Furnishes the best talent on the platform
at lowest prices, and employs an influ
ential person in every town to organize
Lyceum associations. Salary, $25 a weOk
Fine summer work for teachers.
THE ALKAHEST TEACHERS’ BU
REAU.
Furnishes best positions to first-class
teachers. Enrollment free for two months
This bureau has the field in the south!
and controls the best vacancies because
it has better advertising facilities than
any other. Nine-tenths of the best posi
tions are filled through bureaus, and all
teachers should belong to at least one
bureau.
THE ALKAHEST LITERARY BU
REAU.
Furnishes a training school for inexperi
enced writers. Writers need special
training as much as doctors and lawyers,
etc. No one can see his own faults and
mistakes that keep his MS. from being
accepted by the magazines. The value of
a literary criticism depends upon the
ability and gifts of the critic. Marion
Daniel McConnell is the critic for this
bureau, and there is no abie'r critic nor
more gifted writer in the south.
C riticism, revision, helpful suggestions
and addresses of publications to which
a MS. is suited. Short poems of not more
than six stanzas criticised and tvpewrit-
ten for 30c.
Address any bureau or magazine.
ENGLISHAWERICAN BUILDING,
ATLANTA, GA.
LIMITED
Drains*
r DOUBLE DAIIY
SERVICE
ATLANTA
TO THIa
EAST.
$3, SAVED
tions, call on or address agents or
E. J. WALKER, C. P. & T. A.
W. B. CLEMENTS, T. P A.
B. A. NEWLAND, G. A. P. D.
ATLANTA, GA.
E. ST. JOHN, V. Pres, and Gen. M'gr.
V. E. M’BEE. General Superintendent
H. W. B. GLOVER, Traffic Manager
L. S. ALLEN, Gen’l Pass. Agt.
PORTSMOUTH, VA.
BY THE
SEABOARD AIR LINE.
Atlanta to Richmond 04.50
Atlanta to Washington 14.5,
Atlanta to Baltimore via Washing-
ton
Atlanta to Baltimore via Norfolk
and Bay Dine steamer 15.25
Atlanta to Philadelphia via Wash
ington
Atlanta to Philadelphia via Nor-
f , olk 18.05
Atlanta to New York via Richmond
and Washington 21.OO
Atlanta to New York via Norfolk,
Va. and Cape Charles Route 20.65
Atlanta to New York via Norfolk
Va„ and Norfolk and Washington
Steamboat Company, via Washing-
ton 00
Atlanta to New York via Norfolk,
Va.. Bay Line steamer to Balti
more, and rail to New York 20 55
Atlanta to New York via Norfolk
and Old Dominion S. S. Co. ("meals
and stateroom Included) 2025
Atlanta to Boston via Norfolk and
steamer (meals and stateroom In
cluded).. j it 2150
Atlanta to Boston via Washington
and New York
The rate mentioned above to Washing
ton. Baltimore, Philadelphia New York
and Boston are $3 less than by any other
all rail line. The above rates apply from
Atlanta. Tickets to the east are soM
from most all points in th* territory of
the Southern States Passenger A-oets
tlon, via the Seaboard Air-Line, at $3 less
than by any other all rail line
_For_tlcketa, sleeping car accommo*,.
FOR SALE
Within twenty-three miles of 4,1—,
three hundred and twenty *1
farming land at $13
seventy-five acres are
dred acres espeeiallv adanteef for » V
farm, balance heavilv h™k / stopk
further Information addresfw^M v/°r
Baker, Atlanta, Ga. W ’ 36 VVest
4^*
44^
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