Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Subscription $1 Per Year. Vol. Miss Conover She had given her name as Kate Conover, and had come to accept the position of governess in toe family. knocked Presently the lady of the house and entered t|ie room. Ev¬ idently she was much pleased with the new arrival, for her ©yes rested upon a sweet, frank face, a graceluL compact form^and an attire as neat as it was sensible. “I hardly expected to find you so young,” Mrs. Cameron said. “No?” asked Miss Conover. “St&l —you will find me proficient.” “Oh, to be sure ” Mrs. Cameron hurriedly said. “Please walk down to breakfast.” The breakfast room reached, she sa id: “Miss Conover — Brice Ruther¬ ford, my nephew.” The name startled the young lad|r so much that her self possession al¬ most failed her. She bowed m rec¬ ognition of the introduction, and then turned her attention to the two children who were to be under her charge. During the morning meal ah# cast several furtive glanew at Brice Rutherford. He Was young, handsome, refined, with perhaps rather an exalted opinion of him¬ self. It was not remarkable that dur¬ ing the summer he began to take considerable interest in the pretty little governess. He was thrown al¬ most daily in her society, and her frankness was especially charming to him because he was not much disposed to be frank himself. His interest at last assumed a more fervent shape and finally led him to make a declaration of love. A look of triumph crossed her face, but it escaped his notice, for she was seated in the shadow. “This isn't unexpected,” she re¬ plied, “but”— Brice Rutherford frowned at the remark and waited for her to con¬ clude it. “You see, you don't know any¬ thing about me,” she said, starting in afresh. “Oh, but I flatter myself I do,” was his reply. “I never act without proper consideration.” “1 mean as to my—my—antece¬ dents,” Miss Conover said, “As to my—my—purposes”— “I don't care about your antece¬ dents,” he interrupted, "and as lor your purposes I hope one of them will be to make me as happy as you can!” “Oh, to be sure,” replied she, “Well, I am glad that we under¬ stand each other, and”-— “But 1 don't know that we do,” interrupted she in turn, “I know not that recall you proposed that I accepted to me, but you.” I can¬ <‘Oh I” he ejaculated, with a crest- fallen look. Miss Conover laughed hold softly and said, “I am willing to your offer under advisement “That will not satisfy me/' he replied. rejoined she. p “I “But it must/' think 1 am according you a great deal.” “Well, maybe you are/' he said with a grimace. “I can't say that I’m excessively grateful.” “I'll give you mv answer in Sep- tern her. Miss C onover tep lied. “That isn’t far off, you know.” “Well, no, it isn’t/' assented he, am! that closed the conversation. In the early part of September business took him into the city and he was absent a week. When he returned to his aunt’s country seat, he found that the Tfretty little governess was no longer there. He was almost dumfounaed. “Where is she?” he asked. “I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Cameron. "Among her friends, no doubt.” “She is coming back?” “No, much to my regret children.* and the disappointment Rutherford of the stared Brice at the carpet. “Did she leave a message for »e?” he asked. __ The Toccoa % Record Toccoa, Georgia, October 17 1902. “A letter, at least,” replied Mrs. Cameron. “I notice that there is one on her bureau directed to you.” He hurried upstairs in a manner not in keeping with his habitual dignity.. When he opened the en¬ velope, he was surprised to find one of his own letters in it, although he had never written to her. A look of consternation spread over his face as he read it. In his boyhood he had had a little sweetheart named Rose Ralston. It was of stipulated between the parents both that the two should be mar¬ ried when they were old enough. He was sent to school on the con¬ tinent, where he stayed until he had attained his majority. He then wrote home, declining to renew the attachment of his boyhood or to carry out the stipulations. Indeed, so emphatic was he that one or two sentences were unkind, because un¬ called for. He stared at the letter in a dazed way. “How did Miss Conover get hold of it ?” he asked himself, “and what was her object in redirecting it to me? She promised to give me her decision”— He broke the line of his thought with a sharp exclamation. “I've solvfed the mystery,” he mut¬ tered. “Kate Conover is Rose Ral¬ ston. She is a Httle flirt and fan¬ cies that she's got even with me." He closed his conjectures with fanity. an expression which was near pro¬ Aunt Rachel,” he said, when he bad rejoined his aunt, “do you know that Mies Conover is Rose Ral¬ ston V 9 “Impossible 1” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. “But, aunt, she is.” “Did she say so?” “No. Do you think her coming here was—was—planned?” “Why, no, Brioe. It came about by accident. She didn't know you were here or that I am your aunt.” “You are sure of that?” “Of course I am. What does she say in the letter ?” “It isn't from her.” “Eh! Who, then?” under “Why did she masquerade here another name?” evaded Brice. “Why should she masquerade any¬ where?” “My dear boy, I can't answer that,” Mrs. Cameron said. “I am not convinced that she did.” “Well, it doesn't matter much anyhow,” Rutherford rejoined, which was a bold falsehood, for he knew that it mattered a good deal to him. A year later found Kate Conover standing in a grove in the Yellow¬ stone park. She was looking down a long vista of charming scenery, her face bronzed, her form plump and the blue in her eyes deeper and sweeter than ever. She heard footsteps behind her, and on turning around beheld a handsome, sun browned tourist, A second, and her face grew very red, for the man was Brice Rutherford. She had punished him, to be sure, but she bad also punished herself. He relieved her of her embar¬ rassment gracefulness. by offering hie hand with easy ‘Til now take your answer/' he said. “What answer?” she asked, with renewed blushes. “This is September” he re- minded. “Oh!” ejaculated she. “So it is, but I named last September. I left you my answer.” “But there wasn't anything in it for me, or else I was too stupid to see it. It may have implied”— “Yes, it implied,” she interrupted, with “Oh, a charming little laugh. bother that idiotic let er!” Brice cried. “And your stumpy, romping, freckled faced tomboy sweetheart, Rose Ralston,” added she, quoting from the letter. “I meant nothing by it. and I'm sorry I wrote it,” replied Brice, get¬ “I ting red in the face in turn. eomd not foresee that I'd after¬ ward meet Rose Ralston in Kate Conover and fall in love with her. You have two names, and you “Good Will to All Men.’ should not be punctilious about as¬ suming a third. Mine is at your service. Please give me the answer you “Well, promised.” Brice,” she said, her blue eyes dancing with fun, “I am not able to recall the question with much distinctness, If you will re- peat it in the same attitude with the same fervor and with the same wild, waiting look in your eyes, perhaps I may be able”— “Oh, I couldn't,” interrupted Brice, laughing. “One such effort ih a lifetime is enough. I haven't yet recovered the energy which I expended on that occasion. You in¬ tend to accept me, but you are too —too—modest to say so. I will not insist, you know.” “Oh, thank you,” she replied. “It is a—gr a eat relief to me.” And, as they were married be¬ fore the close of the year, it is pre¬ sumed that they reached an under¬ standing at last. The Folly of Oversensitiveness. Oversensitive people are usually very fine grained, highly organized and intelligent, and if they would overcome this weakness would be¬ come This capable, conscientious work¬ ers. failing—for it is a failing, and a very serious one, too—is an exaggerated form of self conscious¬ ness, which, while entirely different from egotism or conceit, causes self to loom up in such large propor¬ tions on the mental retina as to overshadow everything else. The victim of it feels that wherever he goes, whatever he does, he is the center of observation and that all eyes, all thoughts are focused upon him. He imagines that people are criticising his movements and his person and making fun at his ex- pense, when in reality they are not thinking him.—Success. of him and perhaps did not see WAYS OF THE SHAD. Their Migrations and How They Live at Spawning Time. Shad fishing is hard and precari¬ ous work. The fisherman must count on having his clothes always soaked with icy April water. Often, too, the nets come in empty, and then there is nothing to do but to make another cast and hope for bet¬ ter luck. A remarkable fact noticed by fish¬ ermen is that the identical shad ap¬ parently frequent the same streams year after year. To prove this they point out that those taken in Flor¬ ida waters are smaller than shad caught in the north, while in dif¬ ferent streams the fish differ in form, thickness and shape. After entering the rivers the shad take little if any food previous to spawning, but afterward they will bite at flies or any shining object floating in the water. They have even been known to snap at artifi¬ cial bait. The toothless mouth of the adult is unfit for feeding upon anything except minute animal mat¬ ter found in the water. Food is rare¬ ly found in their stomachs, the only substance commonly seen there be¬ ing black something closely resembling mud. From this it is sup¬ posed that the shad swim with mouths extended, swallowing the animal life that swarms in the wa¬ ter and on this grooving plump and sweet.—Outing. Character In Umbrellas. One's character is said to be re¬ vealed with infallible accuracy by the way he holds and carries an um¬ brella. One enthusiast, who has made a study of the public's umbrel¬ la manners, has announced that he would want no better guide in choos¬ ing his wife than to watch her furl and carry her umbrella. The man who pokes you in the ribs with his umbrella, for instance, does not alone announce by such an act that he is rude or careless. To the experienced eye he actually lays bare the innermost secrets of his character. The man or woman who carries an umbrella with the point back¬ ward and downward is unassertive. On the other hand, persons who in the walking handles, carry their umbrellas by with the points contin¬ ually exfendejl or pointing forward. Successor to Toccoa Times and Toccoa Heirs. will be found seif’assertive and en¬ ergetic. The pedestrian who grabs an umbrella in the middle and goes forging ahead with it in this posi¬ tion is likelv to be found alert, of a selfish, even conceited tion. - Speed of Dogs. Greyhounds are the swiftest dogs known, and scientists say that they are the swiftest of all four footed animals. Trained hounds can trav- el at the rate of eighteen to twenty- three yards a second, which is about the speed attained by a carrier pigeon. These dogs are bred for speed alone. Every other consider- ation is lost sight of, and only the machinery that makes for motion and endurance is cultivated. Foxhounds are also very fast trav¬ elers, going at the rate of nearly eighteen yards a second. M. Duso- lier, the noted French scientist, has pointed out in his statistics on the speed trotting of animals along that with little their fox ter¬ riers mas¬ cycle ters who are driving or riding a bi¬ cover mile after mile without a touch of fatigue or distress. Many animals akin to dogs show even greater endurance. A wolf can travel fifty or sixty miles in a night and be ready for a similar journey the following night. “Book” Muslin. A correspondent asks, “Won't you oblige by saying why the word Took' is a]i>plied to muslin ?” The idea that book muslin derives its name from the peculiar manner in which it is made up for sale—> namely, folded in yards and each yard doubled in again on itself in such a way that the process of open¬ ing it strongly resembles the open¬ ing of a book—is ingenious, but in¬ correct. The word has its origin in Buke, which was erroneously writ¬ ten “Book,” the district in India where it was first made. It was not until 1780 that the manufacture of British muslins became a rival to those in India. India muslins are still famous for preserving their whiteness. Wire Used For Pins. Perhaps as striking a figure as can be adduced in relation to wire is its consumption in the pinmaking industry. With but few exceptions, all pins are made from brass wire, and the daily production of pins in Great Britain is placed by compe¬ tent authorities at 50,000,000, of which Birmingham supplies about three-fourths. How this stupendous output is consumed affords matter of no small wonderment, and when the proverbial trifling value of each individual pin is further borne in mind the interest in this branch of the wire industry will be still fur¬ ther augmented.—Chambers' Jour¬ nal. A Simple Change. The little daughter of the house watched the minister who was mak¬ ing a visit very closely and finally sat draw down beside him and began to on her slate. “What are you doing ?” asked the clergyman. “I'm making your picture/' said the child. The minister sat very still, and the child worked away earnestly. Then she stopped and compared her work with the original and shook her head. “I don't like it much,” she said. (( 3 Tain't a great deal like you. I think I'll put a tail to it and call it a dog.” A Somewhat Clever Rat. The Pioneer tells a story of a rat which on one occasion was caught alive on a ship and thrown over- board. A sea gull was floating by the side of the ship. Immediately there ensued a battle royal, and the rat strangled the sea gull to death, He then sat upon the carcass of the sea gull, unfurled its left wing to catch the wind and, working the right shore! wing as an oar, set sail for the p *u Mow Wlu^Vwi If OB ftitftslMa V . Mo. • In lota. Nt Mo. 4 O MAXIMS OF A WITTY ABBE, A Notable Eighteenth Century Figure In French Society. ^ orae of the maxims and anecdotes of Nicholas de Cliamfort, the witty abbe, who during the latter half of the eighteenth century was such a notable figure in French society, have been translated by Mr. W. G. Hutchison and published by a Lon- don firm. Here are some samples of the abbe’s wit as rendered by the translator: “Living is a disease from the pains of which sleep eases us every sixteen hours. Sleep is but a pailia- tive; death alone is the cure.” “The worst wasted of all days is that in which one has not laughed.” a > Tis not generally known how much wit a man requires to avoid being “The ridiculous.” best philosophical attitude to adopt toward the world is a union of the sarcasm of gayety with the indulgence of contempt.” “Society would be a interested charming af¬ fair if we were only in one another.” “There is no history worthy of attention save that of free nations. The history of nations under the sway of despotism is no more than a collection of anecdotes.” Some of his anecdotes are good. Mme. de Talmont, seeing M. de Richelieu neglecting her to pay at¬ tentions to Mme. de Brionne, a very beautiful woman, but said to be rather stupid, remarked to him, “You are not blind, marshal, but t cannot help thinking you a little deaf.” Mile. Duthe having lost a lover and the affair causing some talk, a man who called to see her found her playing the harp and said with sur¬ prise: “Good heavens! I was ex¬ pecting to find you desolated with grief.” “Ah,” she exclaimed in a pathetic tone, “you onght to have seen me yesterday!” A woman was at a performance of the tragedy of “Merope” and did not weep. Surprise was expressed. “I could cry my eyes out/’ she said, “but I have to go out to supper to¬ night.” What Causes Fogs. Fogs are, generally speaking, caused by the precipitation of the moisture of the atmosphere. They are formed when a warm stratum of atmosphere comes in contact with a cold stratum or with a portion of the earth's surface, as a hill, by which it is cooled so that it can no longer hold as much moMure in so¬ lution as before. This causes the frequent When fogs in mountain regions. a cola stratum of air comes over a moist, warm part of the garth’s surface, a fog is also formed. This is the cause of the mists that appear over lakes, rivers and marsh¬ es in the evening, since the water i a then warmer than the atmosphere above it. The blackness and density by of London fogs are caused the simple fact that the mist formed in the upper air mingles with the as¬ cending clouds of smoke from hun¬ dreds of thousands of chimneys and, descending, brings the smoke with it and settles like a pall above the buildings and in the streets of the city. _ A Boy Who Did Hit Duty. A gentleman went into a fancy shop one i day to buy something. It was tle boy early, and and he the shopkeepers alone lit¬ were in the house. The shopkeeper had to go upstairs to get his cash box in order to procure some change, but before doing so he went into the little room the next boy: to the shop and whispered to “Watch the gentleman that he doesn t steal anything, and, brmg- out, sat him on the coun- ^ er * As soon M he shopkeep er re- turned the child sang out: Pa,^he didn't steal anything. I watched him.” L ondon Tit-Bits. To Cure • Coidla mao IMy. ftop tho Cough and Work off tht coM *