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\ r i THE SUNNY SOUTH. 44* 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 484 »^> 484 484 484 484 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 Reign of Terror,” Etc. the Chapter II.—Buying a Slave. Mrs. Wingfield did talk the matter over with the overseer, and things went on in consequence more smoothly. Vincent, however, adhered to his wish, and it was arranged that as soon as he could get a nomination he should go to West Point, which is to the American army what Sandhurst and Woolwich are to England. Before that could be done, however, a great political agitation sprang up. The slave states were greatly excited over the prospect of a Republican president being chosen, for the Republicans were to a great extent identified with the aboli tion movement: and public feeling, which had for some time run high, became in tensified as the time approached for the election of a new president, and threats that if the Democrats were beaten and a Republican elected the slave states would secede from the Union, were freely in dulged in. In Virginia.’which was one of the most northern of the slave states, opinion was somewhat divided, there being a strong minority against any extreme measures being taken. Among Vincent's ft lends, however, who were for the most part the sons of planters, the Democratic feeling was very strongly in the ascendant, and their sympathies were wholly with the southern states. That these had a right to secede was assumed by them as being unci uestionable. But in point of fact there was a great deal to be said on both sides. The states which first entered the Union in 5776 con sidered themselves to be separate and sovereign states, each possessing power and autnority to manage its own affairs, and forming only a federation in order to construct a central power, and so to operate with more effect against the mother country. Two years later the con stitution of the United States was fram ed, each state giving up a certain por tion of its authority, reserving its own self-government and whatever rights were not specifically resigned. No mention was made in the constitu tion of the right of a state to secede from the Union, and while those who insisted that each state had a right to secede if it chose to do so declared that this nght was reserved, their opponents affirmed that such a case could never have been contemplated. Thus the question of ab solute right had never been settled, and it became purely one of force. Early in November. 1S60. it became known that the election of Mr. Eincoln. the Republican candidate, was assured, and on the ninth of that month the repre sentatives of South Carolina m-t at Charleston, and unanimously authorized the holding of a state convention to meet in the third week in December. The an nouncement caused great excitement, f tr it was considered certain that the conven tion would pass a vote of secession, and thus bring the debated question to an is sue. Although opinion in Virginia was less unanimous than in the more southern states, it was generally thought that she would imitate the example of South Caro lina. On the day following tbf yeoipt of the news. Vincent, who had rioden over to the plantations of several of his friends to talk the matter over, was returning homeward, when he heard the sound of heavy blows with a whip and loud eurses, and a moment later a shrill scream in a woman's voice rose in the air. Vincent checked his horse mechanically with an exclamation of anger. He knew but too well what was going on beyond the screen of shrubs that grew on the other side of the fence bordering the road. For a moment ho hesitated, and then muttering, "What's the use!" was about to touch the horse with the whip and gallop on. when the shriek again rose louder and more agonizing than before. With a cry of rage Vincent leaped from his horse, threw the reins over the top of the fence, climbed over it in a moment, and burst his way through the shrubbery. Close by a negro was being held by four others, two having hold of each wrist and holding his arms extended to full length, while a white lad. some two years Vincent's senior, was showering blows with a heavy whip upon him. The slave's back was already covered with welts, and the blood was flowing from several places. A few yards distant a black girl, with a baby in her arms, was kneeling on the ground screaming for mercy for the slave. Jnst.as Vincent burst through the hushes, the young fellow, irritated at her cries, turned round and delivered a tremendous blow with the whip on her bare shoulders. This time no cry came from her lips, but the slave, who had stood immovable while the punishment was heing inflicted upon himself, made a desperate effort to break from the men who held him. He was unsuccessful, but before the whip could again fall on the woman’s shoul ders, Vincent sprang forward, and seiz ing it. wrested it from the hands ol the striker. With an oath of fury and sur prise at this sudden interruption, the young fellow turned upon Vincent. "You are a coward and a blackguard, Andrew Jackson!" Vincent exclaimed, white with anger. “You are a disgrace to Virginia, you ruffian!” Without a word the young planter, mad with rage at this interference, rushed at Vincent; but the latter had learned the use of his fists at his English school, and riding exercises had strengthened his muscles, and as his opponent rushed at him. he met him with a blow from the shoulder which sent him staggering hack with the hlood streaming from his lips. He again rushed forward, ana heavy blows were exchanged; then they closed and grappled. For a minute they swayed to and fro; but although much taller, the young planter was no stronger than Vin cent, and at last they came to the ground with a crash, Vincent uppermost. Jack son's head as he fell coming with such force against a low stump that he lay in sensible. The contest had been so sudden and fu rious that none had attemnted to inter fere. Indeed the negroes were so aston ished that they had not moved from the moment when Vincent made his appear ance upon the scene. The lad rose to his feet. “You had better carry him up to the house and throw some water on him." he said to the negroes, and then turned to go away. As he did so, the slave who had been flogged broke from the others, who had indeed loosened their hold, and ran up to Vincent, threw- himself on his knees, and taking the lad’s hand pressed it to his lips. “I am afraid I haven't done you much good." Vincent said. "You will be none the better ofT for my interference; but I couldn’t help it." So saying he made his way through the shrubbery, cleared the fence, mounted, and rode homeward. “I have been a fool," he said to him self as he rode along. “It will he all the worse for that poor beggar afterward: still I could not help it. I wonder will there be any row about it. I don't much expect there will, the Jacksons don’t stand well now, and this would not do them any good with the people round; besides I don’t think Jackson would tike to go into court to complain of being thrashed by a fellow a head shorter than himself. It's blackguards like him who give the abolitionists a right to hold up the slave-owners as being tyrants and brutes.” The Jacksons wfre newcomers in Vir ginia. Six years before, the estate, of which the Cedars, as their place was called, formed a part, was put up for sale. It was a very large one, and having hern divided into several portions to suit buyers, the Cedars had been purchased by Jackson, who, having been very suc cessful as a storekeeper at Charleston, had decided upon giving up the business leaving South Carolina, and settling down as a land owner in. some other state. His antecedents, however, were soon known at Richmond, and the old Virginian fami lies turned a cold shoulder to the new comer. Had he been a man of pleasant man ners. he would gradually have made his way; but he was evidently not a gen tleman. The habits of trade stuck to him. and in a very short time there were rumors that the slaves, whom lie had bought with the property, found him a harsh and cruel master. This in itself would have been sufficient to bring him disrepute in Virginia, where as a rule the slaves were treated with great kind ness, and indeed considered their position to be infinitely superior to that of the poorer class of whites. Andrew Jackson had been for a few months at school with Vincent; he was unpopular there, and from the rumors current as to the treat ment of the slaves on the estate, was known by the nickname of the "slave- driver.” Had Vincent been the son of a white trader, or a small cultivator, he know well enough that his position would be a very serious one, and that he would have had to ride to the border of the state with all speed. He would have been denounced at once as an abolition ist. and would have been accused of stir- ring up the slaves to rebellion against their masters; a crime of the most serious kind in the- southern states. But placed as he was, as the heir of a great estate worked by slaves, such a cry could hard ly be raised against him. He might doubt less he fined and admonished for interfer ing between a master and his slave: but the sympathy of the better classes in Virginia would be entirely with him. Vin cent, therefore, was but little concerned for himself, but he doubted greatly whether his interference had not done much more harm than good to the slave and his wife, for upon them Andrew Jackson would vent his fury. He rode direct to the stables instead of alighting as usual at the door. Dan. who had been pitting in the veranda waiting for him. ran down to the stables as he saw him coming. “Give the horse to one of the others. Dan; I want to speak to you. Dan," he went on when he had walked with him a short distance from the stables. "I suppose you know some of the hands on .Ml-kCCf'.'*. .'eKt.VvT :• ’>■ « j Dan grinned, for although th^re 'was not supposed to be any communicaMon between the slaves on the different es tates, it was notorious that at night they were in the habit of slipping out of their huts and visiting each other. "I know some ob dent, Marse Vincent. What yo want ob dem? Berry bad mas ter, Marse Jackson. Wust master here abouts." Vincent related what had happened, to Dan's intense delight. "Now, Dan." he went on, “I am afraid that after my interference they will treat that poor fellow and his wife worse than before. 1 want you to find out for me what is going on at Jackson's. I do not know that I can do anything, however badly they treat them; hut I have been thinking that if they ill treat them very grossly. I will get together a party of 15 or 20 of my friends and we will go in a body to Jackson's, and warn him that if he behaves with cruelty to his slaves, we will make it so hot for him that he will have to leave the state. I don't say that we could do anything; hut as we should represent most of the large estates round here. I don't think old Jackson and his son will like being sent to Coventry. The feeling is very strong at present against ill treatment of the slaves. If these trou bles lead to war almost all of us will go into the army, and we do not like the thought of the possibility of troubles among the hands when the whites are all away.” "I will find out all about it for you to night sah. I don't suspect dat dey will do nuffin today. Andrew Jackson too sick after dat knock against de stump. He keep quiet a day or two.” "Well, Dan. you go over tonight and find out all about it. I expect I had bet ter have left things alone, but now I have interfered I shall go on with it.” Mrs. Wingfield was much displeased when Vincent told her at dinner of his incident at Jackson's plantation and even his sisters were shocked at this in terference between a master and his slave. “You will get yourself into serious trou ble with these fanciful notions of yours.” Mrs. Wingfield said angrily. “You know as well as I do how easy it is to get up a cry against any one as an abolitionist and how difficult to disprove the accusa tion: and just at present, when the pas sions of every man in the south are in flamed to the utmost, such an accusa tion will be most serious. In the present instance there does not seem that there is a shadow of excuse for your conduct. You simply heard cries of a slave being flogged. You deliberately leave the road and enter these people's plantation and interfere without, so far as I can see, the least reason for doing so. You did not inquire what the man’s offense was; and he may for aught you know have half murdered his master. You simply see a slave being flogged and you assault his owner. If the Jacksons lay complaints against you it is quite probable that you may have to leave the state. What on earth can have influenced you to act in such a mad-brained way?" "I did not interfere to prevent his flog ging the slave, mother, hut to prevent his flogging the slave’s wife, which was pure wanton brutality. It is not a ques tion of slavery one way or the other. Any one has a right to interfere to put a stop to brutality. If I saw a man brutally treating a horse or a dog I should cer tainly do so: and if it is right to inter fere to save a dumb animal from brutal ill treatment surely it must be justifiable to save a woman In the same case. I am not an abolitionist. That is to say. I consider that slaves on a properly man aged estate, like ours, for instance, are just as well off as are the laborers on an estate In Europe: but I should cer tainly like to see laws passed to protect them from ill treatment. Why, in En gland there are laws against cruelty to animals; and a man who brutally flog ged a dog or a horse would get a month's imprisonment with hard labor. I consider it a disgrace to us that a man may here ill treat a human being worse than he might in England a dumb animal.” "You know, Vincent,” his mother said more quietly, "that I object as much as you do to the ill treatment of the slaves, and that the slaves here, as on all well conducted plantations in Virginia. are well treated; but this is not a time for bringing in laws or carrying out reforms. It is bad enough to have scores of north erners doing their best to stir up mis chief between masters and slaves with out a southern gentleman mixing himself up in the matter. We have got to stand together as one people and to protect our state rights from interference.” "I am just as much in favor of state rights as any one else, mother; and if, as seems likely, the present quarrel is to be fought out, I hope I shall do my best for Virginia as well as other fellows of my own age. But just as I protest against any interference by the northerners with our laws. I say that we ought to amend our iaws so as not to give them the shadow of an excuse for interference. It is brutes like the Jacksons who have af forded the materials for libels like ‘Uncle Tom's Cabin’ upon us as a people; and I can't say that I am a bit sorry for hav ing given that young Jackson what he deserved.” “Well. I hope there will he no trouble come of it,” Mrs. Wingfield said. “I shouldn't think the Jacksons would like the exposure of their doings which would he caused by bringing the matter into court; but if they do, you may be quite sure that a jury in Richmond at the pres ent time would find against you.” “I don’t suppose that they will do any thing. mother. But if they must, they must; and I don't suppose anything se rious will come of it any way.” The next morning Vincent went down early to the stables. As he approached them Dan came out to meet him. “Well, Dan, what’s your news?” "Berry great bobbery ober at Jackson's last night, Massa Vincent. Fust of all I crept round to de huts Ob de field hands. Dey all know nuffin 'bout It; but one of dem he goes off and gets to hah a talk with a gal employed in de house who was in de habit of slipping out to see him. She say when de young un war carried in de old man go on furious; he bring suit against you. he hah you punished berry much—no saying what he not going to do. After a time de young un come round, he listen to what the ould man say for some time: den he answer: ‘No use going on like dat. Set all de county families against us if we have suit. As to dat infernal young villain, me pay him out some other way.' Den de old man say he cut de flesh off de bones oh dat nigger; but de young one say: ‘Musn’t do dat. Yon sure to hear ahout it. and make great bobbery. Find some oder way to punish him.’ Den dey talk together for some time, but girl not hear any more.” “Well, then, there will be no suit any how," Vincent said. "As to paying me out some other way, I will look after my self, Dan. I believe that fellow Jackson is capable of anything, and- I will be on the lookout for him.” "Be sure you do. Marse Vincent. You ride about a great deal: dat fellow bery like take a shot at you from behind tree. Don't you go near dat plantation, or sure enough trouble come.” “I will look out, Dan. There is one thing, I always ride fast; and it wants a very good shot to hit one at a gallop. I don't think they will try that; for if he missed, as he would he almost stir- 4 ' i llao he ''it vvouiii i>(• a gt/oa fitrvi. ivurl than this affair would have been liafl he brought it into court. You keep your ears open, Dan. and find out how they are thinking of punishing that poor fellow for my interference on his behalf.” After breakfast a negro arrived with a note for Mrs. Wingfield from Mr. Jack- son, complaining of the unwarrantable and illegal interference by her son on behalf of a slave who was heing very properly punished for gross misconTluct; and for the personal assault upon his son. The writer said that he was most reluctant to take legal proceedings against a member of so highly respected a family, but that it was impossible that he could submit to such an outrage as this. Although Mrs. Wingfield had expressed her disapproval of Vincent's conduct on the evening before, there was no trace of that feeling in her reply to this letter. She wrote in the third person, coldly ac knowledging the receipt of Mr. Jackson's letter, and saying that she had heard from her son of his interference to put a stop to one of those brutal scenes which brought discredit upon the southern states, and that she considered he had most rightly punished Mr. Jackson. Jr., for his inhuman and revolting conduct; that she was perfectly aware the in terference had been technically ille gal. hut that her son was fully prepared to defend his conduct if called upon to do so in the courts, and to pay any fine that might be inflicted for his suffering himself to he carried away by his righteous in dignation. She ended by saying that as Mr. Jackson was a stranger in Virginia, he was perhaps not aware that the public sentiment of that state was altogether opposed to such acts of brutality as that of which his son had been guilty. “What have you been doing to that fel low Andrew Jackson?” one of Vincent's friends, a young fellow two years older than himself, said to him a few days later. "There were a lot of us talking over things yesterday, in Richmond, and he came up and joined in. Something was said ahout abolitionists, and he said that he should like to see every abolition ist in the state strung up to a tree. He is always pretty violent, as you know, but on the present occasion he went further than usual, and then went on to say that the worst and most dangerous abolition ists were not northern men. hut southern ers, who were traitors to their state. He said; ‘For example, there is that young Wingfield. He has been to England and has come hack with his heart tilled with abolitionist notions,' and that such opin ions at the present time were a danger to the state. "Two or three of us took the matter up, as you might guess, and told him he had better mind what he was saying or it ■would be the worse for him. Harry Fur- niss went so far as to tell him that he was a liar, and that if he didn't like that he would have satisfaction in the usual way. Master Jackson didn't like it. but muttered something and slunk off. What’s the matter between you?” I should not have snid anything about it.” Vincent replied. “If Jackson had chosen to hold his tongue, but as he chooses to go about attacking me, there is no reason why I should keep the mat ter secret. And he then related what had taken place. The young Virginian gave a low whistle. “I don't say I blame you. Wingfield, but I tell you. you might have got yourself into an awful mess if the Jacksons had chosen to take it up. You know how hot the feeling is at present, an<T It is a se rious matter at any time to interfere be tween a master and his slaves in the southern states. Of course, among us our feelings would be all against Jack- son. but among the poorer class of whites, who have been tremendously excited by the speeches, both in the north and here, the cry of abolitionist at the present mo ment Is like a red rag to a bull. How ever, I understand now the fellow’s en mity to you. None of us ever liked him when he was at school with us. He Is an evil-tempered brute, and I am afraid you may have some trouble with him. If he goes about talking as he did to us, he would soon get up a feeling against you. Of course it would be nonsense to openly accuse a member of an old Virginian family of be ing an abolitionist, but it would be easy enough to set a pack of the rough classes of the town against you,and you might get badly mauled If they caught you alone. The fellow is evidently a coward, or he would have taken up what Furniss said, but a coward who is revengeful is a good deal more dangerous than an open foe. However, I will talk it over with some of the others, and we will see If we can’t stop Andrew Jackson’s mouth.” The result of this was that the next day half a dozen of Vincent’s friends wrote a Joint letter to Andrew Jackson, saying that they regarded his statements re specting Vincent as false and calumnious, and that if he repeated them they would jointly and severally hold him responsible, and that if. as a result of such accusa tions, any harm happened to Vincent they should know where to look for the orig inator of the mischief and punish him ac cordingly. “You should be more careful. Andrew," his father said, as white with fury he showed him his letter. “It was you who were prenching prudence the other day and warning me against taking steps that would set all the whole country against us; and now. you see, you have been let ting your tongue run. and have drawn this upon yourself. Keep quiet for the present, my son; all sorts of things may occur before long, and you will get your chance. Let this matter sleep for the present.” A day or two later when Vincent went down to the stables he saw that Dan had something to tell him, and soon found out that he wished to speak to him alone. “What is your news, Dan?" ”1 heard last night, Marse Vincent, that old man Jackson is going to sell Dinah; dat de wife ob de man dey flogged.” “They are going to sell her!” Vincent repeated indignantly. “What are they going to do that for?” “To punish Tony. sah. Dar am no law against dar seiiing her. I hear dat dey are going to sell two oder boys, so dat it cannot be said dat dey do it on purpose to spite Tony. I reckon, sah, dey cal culate dat when dey sell his wife Tony get mad and run away, and den when dey catch him again dey flog him pretty near to death. Folk always do dat with run away slaves; no one can say nuffin agin dem for dat.” “It’s an infamous shame that it should he lawful to separate man and wife,” Vincent said. “However, we will see what we can do. You manage to pass the word to Tony to keep up his spirits, and not let them drive him to do anything rash. Tell him I will see that his wife does not get into bad hands. I suppose they will sell the baby, too?” "Yes. Marse Vincent. Natural the baby will go wld de modder.” Vincent watched the list of advertise ments of slaves to be sold, and a day or two later saw a notice to tne effect that Dinah Morris, age twenty-two, with a male baby at her breast, would be sold on the following Saturday. He mounted his horse and rode into Richmond. He had not liked to speak to his mother on the subject, for she had not told him of the letter she had written to Jackson, and he thought that she might disapprove of any interference in the matter, conse quently he went down to Mr. Renfrew, the family solicitor. “Mr. Renfrew," he said. ”1 want some money; can you lend it to me?” “You want money,” the solicitor said in surprise. "What on earth do you want money for? and if you want it. why don’t you ask your mother for it? How much dp you want?” ("! don't know exactly. About eight vt'i—, i:-t «•-’ ijiougti it may be a thousand. I wan* to buy a slave.” “You want to buy a slave?” repeated Mr. Renfrew. "What on earth do you want to buy a slave for? You have more than you want now at the Orangery." “It's a slave that man Jackson is going to sell next Saturday, on purpose to spite the poor creature’s husband and drive him to desperation," and Vincent then re peated the whole story of the circum stances that had led up to the sale. "It is all very abominable on the part of these Jacksons,” Mr. Renfrew said, "but your interference was most impru dent, my young friend; and. as you see. it has done harm rather than good. If you are so quixotic as to become the champion of every ill-treated slave in the state, your work is pretty well cut out for you.” "I know that, sir," Vincent replied, smiling, "and I can assure you I did not intend to enter upon any such crusade; but, you see. I have wrongly or rightly mixed myself up in this, and I want to repair the mischief which, as you say, I have caused. The only way I can^ee is to buy this negress and her baby.” "But I do not see that you will carry out your object if you do; Vincent. She will be separated just as much from her husband if you buy her as if any one else does. He is ar one plantation and she is at another, and were they ten miles apart or a hundred, they are equally separ ated.” “I quite see that. Mr. Renfrew; but. at least, she will be kindly treated, and his mind will be at rest on that score. Per haps some day or other the Jacksons may put him tip for sale, and then I can buy him. and they will be reunited. At any rate, the first step is to buy her. Can you let me have the money? My mother makes me a very good allowance.” “And I suppose you spend it,” the law yer interrupted. “Well, yes, I generally spend it; but then, you see. when I come of age I come in for the outlying estates.” “And if you die before, or get shot, or any other accident befalls you,” Mr. Ren frew said, “they go to your sisters. How ever, one must risk something for a client, so I will lend you the money. I had better put somebody up to bid for you, for after what has happened the Jacksons would probably not let her go if they knew that you were going to be the purchaser.” “Thank you very much,” Vincent said warmly, “it will he a great weight off my mind." and with a light heart he rode back to the Orangery. Vincent said nothing during the next two days to any of his friends as to the course the Jacksons were taking in sell ing Tony’s wife, for he thought that if the news got about some of his friends who had heard the circumstances might go down to the auction and make such a demonstration that Jackson would he obliged to withdraw Dinah from the sale, in which case he woulfi no doubt dispose of her privately. On the Saturday he mounted his horse and rode into Rich mond, telling Dan to meet him there. At the hour the sale was announced he went to the yard where it was to take place. This was a somewhat quiet and seclud ed place, for although the sale of slaves was permitted by law in Virginia, at any rate these auctions were conducted quiet ly and with as little publicity as possible. For although the better classes still re garded slavery as a necessary institution, they were conscious that these sales, in volving as they did the separation of families, were indefensible, and the more thoughtful would gladly have seen them abolished, and a law passed forbidding the sale of negroes save as part and par cel of the estate upon which they worked, an exception only being made in the case of gross misconduct. Many of the slave owners. indeed, forbade all flogging upon their estates, and punished refractory ft 44 One Swallow Does Not Make a Spring. cMp, it is the myriads of birds that announce the open ing of bright days. They bring us promise of renewed health and strength. They teach us a lesson, which is to set our human house in order by thoroughly cleansing our blood, iri fact, making it new, pure and bright. There is only one real specific with which to accomplish this, and that is Hood’s Sarsaparilla, America’s Great est Spring Medicine, which never disap points. As a purifier, its work is thor ough, and good health is sure to follow. Scrofula — " My little daughter, at three months, had terrible scrofula eruptions, scratching till the blood came. Hood’s Sar saparilla cured a year ago. Skin is now white, smooth and soft.” Mrs. Wilbur Wells, Warren, Conn. Neuralgia — “I had dreadful neuralgia. Was miserable for months. Neighbors persuaded me to use Hood’s Sarsaparilla, and it cured me perfectly.” Mrs. Fred Turner, Barre, Vt. Tired Feeling — “ I had that tired, dull feeling, dyspepsia, headaches and sinking spells, but Hood’s Sarsaparilla made me a new man. I never was better than now.' John Mack, Oskaloosa, Iowa. Poor Appetite—” Spring finds me with a weakness and lack of appetite. I recom mend Hood's Sarsaparilla highly as a strength builder and creator of appetite.” J. F. Ward, Labelle, Ohio. Dyspep8la—“I know a positive relief for dyspepsia and that is Hood’s Sarsapa rilla. It cured me. My neuralgia also stopped.” W. B. Baldwin, 104 Oak Street, Binghamton, New York. Running Sores - “ We feared our little brother wohld be a cripple from a running ■ore on his foot. He grew worse under hospital treatment. Mother gave him Hood's Sarsaparilla and now he is entirely cured.” Miss Mary Mascarie, Aurora, Ind. Impure Blood — “ My work was a burden to me until I took Hood’s Sarsapa rilla. Poor blood was the cause. Have gained flesh and have color in my face.” Mrs. A. A. Howard, Taunton, Mass. TtbctiA SaUabautfa Hood’s Pills ( tire liver ills, the non-irritating and _oniy rathartir to take with Hood's 8ars.ip.iri 1 la. Vincent felt uncomfortable. He had al ready been round to Mr. Renfrew, who had told him that he had deputed an agent to buy, and until the man near the platform stopped he had supposed that he was the solicitor’s agent. “Now, gentlemen.” the auctioneer said, “surely you are not going to let this de sirable piece of property go for seven fifty? She would be cheap at double the price. I have sold worse articles for three thousand.” “I will go another twenty-five dollars,” a tall man in homespun anrl a broad planter’s straw hat said quietly. The contest now recommenced, and by bids of twenty-five dollars at a time the amount was raised to twelve hundred and fifty dollars. “That’s enough for me,” the man stand ing by Andrew Jackson said, "he may have her at twelve fifty, and dear enough, too, as times go.” “Will any one else make an offer?” the auctioneer asked. There was no response and the hammer fell. “What name?” "Nathaniel Forster," the tall man said, and advancing to the table he counted out a roll of notes and gave them to the auctioneer, who handed to him a formal note certifying to his having duly and le gally purchased Dinah Moore and her in fant. late the property of Andrew Jack- son, Esquire, of the Cedars, state of Vir ginia. The purchaser had evidently made up his mind beforehand to secure the lot. for he handed a parcel he had been holding to Dinah, and said briefly, "Slip those things on, girl.” (Continued on Page Nine.) EPILEPSY OR FALLING FITS. slaves, in the first place, by cutting off the privileges they enjoyed in the way of holidays, and if this did not answer, threatened to sell them—a threat which was. in the vast majority of cases, quite sufficient to ensure good behavior, for the slaves were well aware of the difference between life in the well-managed estab lishments in Virginia and that in some of the other southern states. Handing his horse to Dan. Vincent joined a knot of four or five of his acquaintances who had strolled in from mere curiosity. Upon the other side of the yard Vincent saw Andrew Jackson talking to two or three men who were strangers to him. and who, he guessed, were buyers from some of the more southern states. There Are I|> all twelve A *S to • bcjdisposed of. Of these two or three were hands who were no longer fit for field work, and who were bought at very low prices by men who owned but a few acres of land and who could utilize them for odd jobs re quiring but little strength. Then there was a stir of attention. Dinah Moore took her stand upon the platform, with her baby in her arms. The message which Dan had conveyed from Vincent to her husband had given her some hope, and though she looked scared and frightened as she clasped her babe to her breast, she was not filled with such utter despair as would otherwise have been the case. The auctioneer stated the advantages of the lot in the same business-like tone as if he had been selling a horse: “Lot 6. Negro wench. Dinah; age twen ty-two. with male child. Strong and well made, as you see, gentlemen; lit for field work, or could be made a useful hand ahout a house: said to be handy and good- tempered. Now. gentlemen, what shall we say for this desirable lot?” One of the men standing by Andrew Jackson bid a hundred dollars. The bid was raised to a hundred and fifty by a rough looking fellow standing in front of the platform. For some time the bidding was confined to these two, and it rose un til it reached seven hundred and fifty, at which point the man near the platform retired, and there was a pause. A member of my family having been cured in a wonderful manner of the ter rible disease, I will, for the benefit of humanity, gladly make known the reme dy, free of charge, to any one addressing MRS.H.JONES, Box 606, Philadelphia, Pa. ‘‘AMONG THE OZARKS.” The Land of Big Apples, is an attrac tive and interesting book, with views of South Missouri scenery. It pertains to fruit-raising in that great fruit belt of America, the southern slope of the Ozarks, and is of interest to fruit grow ers and to every farmer and home seek er looking for a farm and a home. Mailed free. Address, J. E. LOCKWOOD, Kansas City — — — — Missouri. MUST HAVE AGENTS AT ONCE to Bell r»a*»b Locks nnd Door Holders. Sample Sash Lock free for two- cent stamp. Imnientse : better than wei^htH; burglar proof. $iOadajt Write quick. Address BKOllAKD A CO., Dept. ?, Philadelphia, Pa. Finest Passenger Service IN TEXAS. No trouble to answer questions. Write for new book on Texas free. P. TURNER, General Passenger and Ticket Agent. L. S. THORNE, Vice-Fres. & Gen. M'g'r. DALLAS, TEXAS. The Alkahest Magazine. A high-class southern magazine, has been growing for four years, and during last year doubled 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 .11 MITES DOUBLE DAILY SERVICE ATLANTA TO THb EAST. S3 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. ALKAHEST REAU. LYCEUM BB- 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 week. 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 lfast 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 abler critic nor more gifted writer in the south. Criticism, revision, heljful suggestions and addresses of publications to which a MS. is suited. Short poems of not more than six stanzas criticised and typewrit ten for 50c. Address any bureau or 'magazine. ENGLISH AMERICAN BUILDING, ATLANTA, Gil. BY THE SEABOARD AIR LINE. Atlanta to Richmond $11.50 Atlanta to Washington 14.50 Atlanta to Baltimore via Washing ton 15.70 Atlanta to Baltimore via Norfolk and Bay Line steamer 15.25 Atlanta to Philadelphia via Wash ington 1S.50 Atlanta to Philadelphia via Nor folk 13.05 Atlanta to New York via Richmond and Washington 21.00 Atlanta to New York via Norfolk. Va. and Cape Charles Route 20.53 Atlanta to New Y’ork via Norfolk. Va., and Norfolk and Washington Steamboat Company, via Washing ton 21.00 Atlanta to Now York via Norfolk. Va., Bay Line steamer to Balti more. ana rail to New York 20.55 Atlanta to New York via Norfolk and Old Dominion S. S. Co. (meals and stateroom Included) 20.23 Atlanta to Boston via Norfolk and ~ steamer (meals and stateroom in cluded) 21.50 Atlanta to Boston via Washington and New York 24.00 The rate mentioned above to WashU~- ton. Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York and Boston are $3 Ifss than by any other al] rail line. The above rates apply from Atlanta. Tickets to the east are sold from most all points in the territory of the Southern States Passenger Associa tion, via the Seaboard Air-Line, at $3 less than by any other all rail line. For tickets, sleeping car accommoda- for sale Within twenty-three miles of Atlanta, three hundred and twenty acres of good farming land at $15 per acre. About seventy-five acres are cleared. One hun dred acres especially adapted for a stock farm, balance heavily timbered. For l t further Information address W, 36 West aker, Atlanta, Ga. 4^ 4*4