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ATHENS, GA., TUESDAY MORNING. JULY 26,1892.
HEART'S HUNGER.
Wo let them bo just for a little while,
Wo canaot l>onr to put them yet away—
^1,,. \ acant !iii;h chair of a little child,
I ho torn hat but worn the other day.
Or the low footstool where our dear one’s feet
11ml rested, or the father's easy chair.
That never more will hold the manly form—
Wo let them stand, the room'w'ould look too
hare.
We naze out in the waning, fading light.
The Ixsiks ami music mock ns in the room;
Our hearts aro with that new made grave in
the night.
All dark and shadow haunted In the gloom,
tied j>ity those who wait in vain to hear
The sound of feet that ne’er will tread again
Or long to kiss white faces hid away,
in ihyirdeop beds beneath the snow and rain.
The »■ iud from out the harp of nature chants
A dirge abovo them as it passes by;
The dead leaves, tears of autumn, sadly fail
L>m our sleeping ones as still they lie.
Oh. ye who never o’er dead loved ones wept.
Who ne'er kissed cold hands and faces white,
And held out empty arms and hearts to God,
Can never kuow tho pain we foci tonight.
—San Francisco Examiner.
A CiHOSTLY BRIDAL.
The stagecoach which ran Between
Paris and Marseilles had just reached
Grenoble, when the young Baron de
Saint Andro climbed up to the front
seat.
Hero he found a good looking fellow
of his own age, and straightway the
two became great friends. At the end
of an hour they began exchanging con
fidences after the manner of yonth.
Tlio scion of noble stock was on his
way to Paris, to buy an officer's brevet,
so as to serve bis country, as his ances
tors had done l>efore him; the other,
who was tho son of a rich tradesman,
was also bound for JParis, for the pur
pose, however, of marrying an heiress,
the daughter -of an ,ol(l friend of his
■father.
•It is an even thing!” cried,tho young
baron laughingly, “A mere money mat
ter for each of us. Tho little god Cupid
has uo more concern in your business
than iu mine!”
“There you mistake,” returned the
other. “1 have never seen Sylvia, but 1
fell in love with her, once and forever,
the first time I laid eyes upon her por
trait. Judge for yourself.”
Ho opened a tortoise shell caso, and
Saint Andro exclaimed admiringly;
"What iui angel! Indeed, my dear
follow, you are very fortunate to have
that charming, dainty creature picked
out for you.”
"1 do not contain,” said tjie bride
groom elect, "and now I am .going to
sleep, if this miserably, jolting concern
will allow me. 1 am expected to break
fast at my fnturo,father-in-la\v’s as soon
as I reach Paris, and as 1 shall then be
presented to my lietrotlied 1 want to
look as well as possible.”
At the end of three days nnd two
nights tho heavy stagecoach lumbered
into the metropolis and the two travel
ers went to tho nearest hotel and en
gaged two rooms, intending to take a
little rest. Saint Andre had just thrown
himself upon the bod when he heard
deep groans in the next room, and on
rushing in found his late companion
rolling on tho floor in agonies of pain.
Tho servants were summoned, a physi
cian was brought in and tho latter de
clared that tho patient was suffering
from acute colic, which had probably
been contracted before he left home and
had been aggravated by the fatigue of
the journey. He pronounced the mala
dy a very serious one, and so it proved,
for, in spite of every care, the youth ex
pired at the end of an hour.
Saint Andre was overwhelmed by the
catastrophe, and when lie found that he
could do nothing more for his friend he
stood gazing sadly at the lifeless clay
which lay on tho narrow bed in the bare
hotel room. Poor fellow! So young, so
gay, looking forward to a bright fnture
and now snatched away without warn
ing! Wliat would the fair bride-elect
say when slio heard of this tragedy?
Saint Andre dreaded tho bearing of
the sad news to the family, but there
was no one else to perform the errand,
and so lie set off, carrying with him the
dead youth’s satchel.
When he reached the stately mansion
the front door flew open and twe foot
men in livery came to meet him. One
relieved him of his satchel, the other
took his hat and cloak and a voice was
heard exclaiming joyfully;
“Monsieur, here is your son-in-law at
lost!”
“Dear fellow!” cried a little, fat,
white haired man, rnshing into the hall,
"iet me embrace yon?” and he clasped
the uewcomer rapturously to his heart.
As soou as he could get his breath
Saint Andre said hurriedly:
"Pardon me, sir, but”
“1 pardon you for being late,” inter
rupted the other. “Look, it is 12 o’clock,
and breakfast is growing cold. Come
in and see my daughter. The little puss
has been watching the clock for hours,
and is all impatient to meet you.”
Ho pulled the yonng man into, the
broakfast room as he spoke, and with
out pausing an instant added, "My wife,
Uncle Dorival, Aunt Dolarice, here is
tlio son-in-law at last; Sylvia, my child,
hid him welcome”—
“J beg pardon, sir,” cried Saint Andre,
but again his host interrupted him.
“Dop’.t tell me that you wish to draw
back at the last- moment, my dear fel
low! Everything has been arranged by
iny'esteemed frftnd, your father, but if
you have any objection to urge I will
hear it later; bad news can always keep.
Now let us sit down to breakfast at once
And be merry. Sit by me, son-in-law,
and give me your opinion of this pigeon
bisque.”
Tho visitor was yonng and very tom
my. having fasted since midnight. The
■hock of his companion’s sudden death
had unnerve... him somewhat, and so for
the time being he yielded to the force of
circumstances.
“Come what will,” he said to himself,
“1 cannot bear to pat a dampener upon
the joy of these good people; at least
not until they have Lad their break
fast”
Ho joined therefore in the general
merriment, smiled sweetly upon blush-
replicu
i>¥ Sylvia, the bride-elect, and
unhesitatingly to his supposed future
father-in-law’s inquiries.
“H°w is your Aunt Armande, my
sou. asked the old man suddenly. “1
remember her as n charming ynung xvo-
^hen I was twenty I {came near
falling in love with her! Wduiflistkeep
her in good graces, for she \AU leave a
snug little fortune to her nqphow.”
“Dear aunt!” exclaimedfthe yonth in
atone of deep affection; 4“I hope she
will enjoy life for many A many years
longer,” and his pious wishfwas reward
ed with a tender glance From Sylvia’s
dark eyes. Aunt Dolarice also listened
to him with delight.
‘‘He has the instincts aarweH as the
bearing of a born gentleauanj” she wltis
pered to her brother. “Who wouSd
think that his ancestorslhacl always sold
cinnamon and nutmegs!”
Uncle Dorival, who read ^cyclopedias
and was thonght very learned, retorted
quickly:
"And why should he not (have as fins
sentiments as a nobleman? .Away with
your absurd notions, sister! All men
are equal!”
The clock struck 2, and. Saint Andre
suddenly felt a pang of remorse for the
part ho was playing, as he recollected
that he had to arrange for his friend’s
burial and would be expected at the
hotel. Ho therefore roseifrom the table,
and announcing that he had important
business to attend to, prepared to leave.
His host protested in vain, Sylvia looked
up in blank amazement and every one
entreated him to remain.
“I do not understand,”'began the old
man, following his visitor to the front
door. Tho young man interrupted him.
sayiug solemnly:
"I will explain. At 11 o’clock this
morning I died, after a short and sud
den attack of colic, and 1 gave the hotel
proprietor my word of honor that n >•
body should bo removed this afternoon.
You see, therefore, that if I were to ab
sent myself any longer it would be very
awkward.” With theso words ho dis
appeared, leaving the old father over
whelmed with amazement.
When the rest of tho family heard
what had been said they decided that
the youth was joking.
"He has humor," said Uncle Dorival.
“I shall congratulate him tho next time
I see him. He will be here in time for
supper.”
But supper time came and passed, and
there was no sign of the son-in-lavy. The
family became anxious and alarmed,
and toward 8 o’clock they sent a mes
senger to the hotel to inquire for the
passenger who had arrived there by
coach that morning. The proprietor
sent back word that the gentleman
named had died at 11 o’clock of colic,
and that the body had been taken away
for bnrial in the afternoon. This news
was received with unbounded astonish
ment, and little Sylvia burst into tears
as she declared that she would wear
mourning as if she were a widow.
“It was his ghost that came hero,"
said tho girl’s mother in a tone of awe.
bnt Uncie Dorival shrugged his shoul
ders.
"Do ghosts eat and drink ns he did?"
he asked. "That fellow was merely
some young scapegrace who wanted to
play a trick on ns and get a good meal
at the same lime.” Nevertheless the
ghost story went tho round of the serv
ants’ hall, and the footmen boasted of
having seen a spirit in broad daylight.
The tale spread until it became a sub
ject of wonder in boudoirs and drawing
rooms, and the fair young widow Ivbo
had never been married wore a black
gown and veil and shed passionate tears
for the affianced husband whom she had
seen but once.
Two weeks later she was wandering
about the garden one evening, listening
sadly to the songs of the nightingales.
The stars were shining brilliantly, bat
the sight of their beauty only served to
increase her sorrow.
“Alas!” she sighed, "if he were but
here to stroll with me along these path
ways!”
As she spoke a cracking of boughs
near her made her start with ter
ror, and in another instant a man
broke through the flowering shrubs and
knelt at her feet The stars were shin
ing to some purpose then, for by their
light she recognized the face for whichi
she had been longing, and in a voice
which betokened mingled joy and dread
she cried:
“Then yon are not dead!”
"No indeed, sweetheart,” he answered
softly; "I am alive, and 1 hope to five
and love yon for many a long day yet”
When tho two yonng people entered
the drawing room the family were play
ing backgammon. A look of amaze
ment greeted the appearancefof Saint
Andre, and every one being tfnmfound-
ed the young baron had no difficulty in
telling his story, which he concluded by
asking for Sylvia’s hand.
The marriage took place as soon as t^e
proper period of mourning had elapsed,
and Annt Dolarice was triumphant
“Did I not tell yon he-had the bearing
of a nobleman?” she cried.
“All’s well that endb well, and a baron
is as good as a grocer,” said Uncle Dori
val.—Translated from the Frencb./by
Isabel Smithson fer Romance..
Training Youngsters to Slbg Stands.
It has been said! that Astatic-nations
excelled others in tho use of the sling,
and the stingers of an ancient, army
used their little weapons with terrible
effect "These natives hare such skill,”
says one old historian, "that it very
rarely happens that theymiss their aim.
What makes them so great tn tliquso
of the sling is the training given them
from their earliest years by thfeir moth
ers, who set up a piece of bread hung at
the end of a rod for a target and let
their children remain without food nntil
they have hit it, when the child who is
the victor receives the bread as.the re
ward of his skill and patience.”—Har
per’s Yonng People.
Fireworks In Bnrope In 1300.
Fireworks first became known in Eu
rope in 1860, when the Italians.in Flor*-
ence managed to make some. Tho first
spectacloof fireworks was in 1588.—New 5
York Evening Sun.
*THE WAVE'S DEATH.
ts it a dream of some sweet unknown land.
That t brills the trembling wave far out at sea?
\Vhat strange, wild longing draws reslstlcssly
The eager waters to an unknown strand?
Unhindered by the tempest’s mighty hand,
From lure of sunny skies and soft winds free,
They hurry on in passionate ecstasy.
And. breaking, die upon the faithless sand.
C, restless soul, whose every yearning breath
Is tell of vague desires and sweet, dim dreams,
Apross thy far horizon glows and gleams
The dazzling land where passion bcckoneth;
Yet shall thou flint, fair as the vision seems,
Like tho lost wove upon the shore, butdeath.
—Susan Marr Spalding.
A BAGGAGE SMASHER
Between the stories of Conductor Tom
Pope and Sandy McTougal, backed by
Sandy McTougal’s friends, one gets a
pretty good idea of Sandy's remarkable
adventure with a voice, or, as Sandy
terms it, with the devil in a box.
Tom Pope is conductor and McTougal
(baggage master on the Air line,
wi*idb runs from the Atlantic ocean, to
“thViUBBiddlo of next week.”
“Ffcmt'jfliBtonishing thing, that hunt of
SandjVs "ids n voice,” said Hie conductor,
the otl.W itjjjwfc.
"Umpift” gAuated Sandy, "that may
be yertwuyvf 'Hofl&in at it, but icall it
digginefor tho ,Vwil,.and findiu him.”
"AreWou goivw\*Oifcell this story?” in
quired the.conOTiator> ^
“Not bys a>long\<dialkX’:McTougal an-
s^vered.
Them Tom narrates, andWiy prettily
tao^how he and Sandy were^ra^sferred
to plight anus ^August lasVymd/haw
lonieiy theVbaggajge^num became
he (was cut\ off freut fellows to listen
hisls tones arid .offieqhim cigars.
“You. alters sta&kfcd ’em. Tom,"'inter
rupted ySandy. “I don’t smoke} ye
know."
“1 did(get aagood many puffs that
way, HU ®dm3tj? said the conductor..
"They wiep e abouc^the only thing Sand}’
ever gavel that I co uld get any light :QU-t
of.”
“Are <yon telling \tlNs story?” asked
McTougal. “If so, tell jft,”
“SandyVwas lonely anif\miserat>le,
continued lliis friend. “Nobody talked
to him or\gave him >a quarterffor not
smashingftheir 1 hpggage, so lie rook to
brown stnjdies
The night) of hfc
“Devil, I tell
abruptly.
“ Was rlcrowde
without noticing
car was. jhm fufl
"Audi isie mo;
board the crosse:
itations.’
ice (business 1 '
yon,” cries
Sandy
one,” confinuesfPope,
interruption. “His
luggage.”
ks Sandy lias cm
ets. There yrna a
switch-ofDtraefe^ond
^ up a lot*>f X>oV-
by passengers 'friio were leaving -for
-other places of Jamanement, and • there
was n->end of trurois.'”
Cinup d me ting on (
ait the
junction J J
“MdTougnl pot; things into shape
About il l o'clock^ ^reckon, and as there’s
a part'of tho run (where it’s aigood'honr
between stations! he got ready for a
anooza. He piijki jdtout theisof test,trunk
in the/pQe on wfaiicb' to pillow hii
tilted'ban
ck his f
1 responds the * bag-
lmir(with his feet an the
rotfnda^palledfbig'that rarer his facetand
went tew sleep. Halv’d that, Mac?*'
“Quite kcerect,
gage master.
“Veiy well nthenxyon tell it for awhile.
I wasn’t there.) you (know/’
“It didn’t s sem h if I’d\ been^ asleep
moro’n a minute,” [begins siuidy. ‘“when
there was a lively' jump o£ thetcarlan 1
sort of come toHifefwith a jerk. AD tho
same time I lioerd.|as if ’way off,noise
like some one>a-thlkin. But I thought
’twas a brakemon, outside, an war; jes’
a-dozin off again when right at my ear,
in a thin, sharp * voice, su’thin said,*‘Oh,
Lord!’
“I ain’t nojfool, I ain’t,”<3andy-asserts,
throwing buuk his head defiantly, <*‘an
when that tin whisper comes into -my
ear I jes’ half? opened my eyesVapectin
to see somet of'tlip hoys around. .But not
a livin tlnixg wasi visible. So I, said to
myself, <1 snoredk that’s what’3 rtiiev mat
ter;’ an,-off (I goes) a-noddin an drempin.’
“Then agin I blears that voice. Itteays
quite distinctly, "I want to get<ont!’
“Nbw, I wanft a bit mistaken this
time. I heerd ih. Bnt ’fora 1/could get
mywitfi together there vfas/ayeUaonnd-
in 'way off.
“ ‘That’steiy death call,' says I to my
self, instamly calling to mind fellows
who had hpard like sounds an were dead,
in less’n)a week. Then 1 says to myself,
‘Sandy v <don’t be*a foolP an jumps to my
feet aarwrdft av/ake as I am now.
“It/was a woman’s squawk, and l
could/ hav* sworn to it. Then it song
out in tin trumpet style:
' “ ‘Help! help!’
“I hauled over the ted chest,*an Ha
water barrel, mid the cupboard, in the
corner, an looked out. on thejplqtfonns
an did everythin a man could! da under
the circumstances, to find ontfwHatVwas
a-makin of that fuss. I went' 'to the
side door to coolfmj self, an was k-fanhin
my face when,-blame me! if 1 didn’t
Rear a cornet start, off with theri Rogues’
March/ and a .gruff (voice foller it with:
“ ‘In the midst of life we -are in
death.’
“I.yanked, mylhead round, on)didn’t
see nothin 'that* wasn’t there before.
That threw mo; off Iny pins. Then a
rooster crowed, ,fin a feller witnja cold
in hisAnoee counted ten forwaxu and
then backward, <tn another cossAwith a
bullfrog voice, ondered me: ‘Wpke-up!
the devil wants' you? Yon needn’t
laugh, gentlemen,kwhen I tell.yop I run;
an sod yon if yotffd been thar^ I was
certain the devil had! come for mediate
but sure—an 1 didn’t wait tfor\ him to
ask for my ticket.”
Tom Pope at this/ point brolke into a
stentorian laugh.
“If, gentlemen,, you’d seen> Sandy
come flying into /the car- wheare I was
sitting, you would) never/stop laughing.
Yon may not believe) it, bat bis brown
face was as wlijte as) yonr shirt fronts,
and his eyes “were /as big as billUrd.
WJs. He dafehed (down the aisle and.
whispers in my/ear: -
“‘Tom! Tom! ComelwitbmeP”
“‘What’s the(matter; Ala*?’ I- said.
“ ‘What ails yavh‘
“ ‘Tom, tbel devil's inVmy car. He’s:
been a-enttin ~
If .you’re my friend
I'm incst crazy,
come With met 1
He wasn]t drank, because he doesn’t
drink. ’ It wasn’t religious enthusiasm,
because Sandy had no religion. I al
most believed he. meant what he said,
and that he had been called for. 1 got
up iu a hurry and, followed him.
“1 hadn’t more than got inside the
baggage car when from among the
trunks something suhg out, ‘Shut that
door and pull down your vest!’
Sandy wanted to fight, then,” con
tinued Tom. “He danced around that
car like a prize fighter in the ring, until
the voice cried out quite loud: ‘Damna
tion!’ ‘Pshaw!’ 1 said to Sandy, ‘That's
a boxed up parrot.’ ”
“An then the parrot told you you
lied, asserted McTougal, -
“Yes,” says Tom, cheerfully.
• “And then you said—do you remem
ber what you said?”
“No, Mack; but wasn’t 1 at yonr sido
when we got into the next coach a sec
ond late?”
“We came back with two brakemen,”
McTongal remarks, continuing. “One
of them bTakemen looked on top of the
car an under it an in it. He stuck to it
that there was a ventriloquist about,
but gave that idee up when he couldn’t
find nobody.”
“We flung those trunks right and left
in a lively style," observed Pope, “but
not a thing did we discover—no human
living or dead thing—not a place from
which the noise came We were puz
zled, you may believe; and if the search
had stopped there the read might have
warehoused that coacht-for no railroad
man would have traveled in a car that
was haunted. But the end came. While
we were looking in each others’ faces,
^■U|id frightened in being blocked in that
sori-.of way, the voice spoke again. It
sa^yery distinctly: ‘Let me out! I am
dying-riiyingl”’
“It iyaf.Ukuder my arm, the voice was,”
Sandy ej^j^ipis, “in a big trunk that
had come fi$gn camp.meeting. 1 snug
out for Jake for a doctor, if there
eras one on the train r .an Tom an me put
that trunk on the as gently as if
’twas glass. Twas light, enough. - We
thought the poof thing qtgpt be almost
a skeleton. 1 got hold of tho sledge
hammer. ‘Keep up your .courage,
ma'am 1‘ 1 shouted, ‘an well -ha^e /you
out in a jiffy.’
You should have seen Sandy at -that
bLYMPEIUM.
Of statlit stormy years to ceaseless flow
Is mightier than man’s mightiest work sub
lime;
This shattered splendor, spared awhile by
Time,
Attests his dread victorious overthrow;
Where now thy sway triumphant, aid where
now.
Born in Athepm’s Springtide, ere her prime
Flashed conquering rays o’er Hellas* storied
clime.
Thy Temple. Zens the Thunderer? Where art
thou?
Ye who would grasp Fame's crown, who scorn
the peace
Of lowly hearts secure, tho heaven of homo.
Lured by vain glitter of some golden Fleece,
That mocks tho winner—watch Callirhoe’s
foam.
Near yon wrecked shrine, achieved when woe-
worn Greece
Bowed to the sword sweep of imperial Rome.
—C. A. Kelley iu Blackwood’s Magazine.
THE SHADOW.
On the border lino between ’New York
and Canada is a small sh«et of water
overhung at one point by a high cliff
known as The Smuggler's Shadow, con
cerning tlie origin of which name is
given the following singular story:
“What did you make o’ them, Burk?”
“They are,a s’picuous looking crowd,
and I set them down as United States
officers.”
“Jes’ -my jedgment; and I reckon tho
boys had better be put on the lookout.”
“Co-rect. Tell them to meet down to
Lingo’s and I’ll be ’long later. I jes’
wanter see if everything is all right at
the Horse Shoe.”
• “Hadn’t you better take pne-o’ tho boys
Tong with you? You”
“Bah! do you think Bnrk Brandon
has lost the mettle of this good right
arm? No; I’ll go to the Horse Shoe
alono, an I’ll come back, too, in spit9 of
’em hounds cf the law."
He was a tall, burly framed man,
with coarse features and grizzly locks,
his ungainly form clad iu a gray suit of
coarse material.
His companion, though smaller in
stature, was evidently a man of his own
stamp.
They were known as farmers by the
few settlers of that thinly populated
country, though had tho truth be
• known they, with half a dozen others.
toegnent,” says Pope enthusiastically, -followed tne more hazardous and un-
“He looked a hero, Vvery inch of him. ‘ la ^f ul vocation of smuggling
He gave that hammer four sweeping, ?he appearance of several strange
swings. Crash! crash! Rip! tear! Off ““ 1° that vicinity had nafuraUy
came the top, and it was flung c i enn f enough aroused their fears. Ithadjfee*
•cross the car. A pile of light, fleecy
stuff followed. A dozen faces looked
anxiously into that trunk, expecting to
seetthg body of a dying or dead woman.
£an<ly seemed beside himself with anx-
jiqty.
,>We crowded around the trunk and tho
•doctor lmel\down beside it. He pulled,
out a-lpfc of nigs very carefully, run his
arm.dowja on a prospecting tour, lifted
up’o .great wad pf cotton, took a good
long'dookUu^er it,\fose to his feet and
began^o.cursfe everybody and call’em
a pack of fools. Then he changed his
tune im<f began.to'jhin£h. I asked him
a little angrily-whastjo warf making such
a fuss about, and ifhe propcsed to take
out the body.
“ ‘Body! body! ha, ,ha, ha, ha!* Sec
here, gentlemen!’ and he tossed out tho
cotton from Am trunk showing a'funny
looking machine at the bottom. ‘This is
StringfeUow’s phonograph tli^he’s had
down to camp meeting.’ the doctor said.
*Ho took, one of Edison’s concerns *md
rigged it up so as to go by clockwork.
The shajring of .the car eet it in .motion.
It’s been vepeating^parrotHke, only what
was told hY\it by the saints and sinners.
Very simple', you pee. I won’t charge
you anything for my’visit, conductor.
Goodvnigbt,’ and off he -went.
“Samdy, our friends here'want to know
hww that dream of yourStover that trunk
raided >”
■“Oh.vthey do—do tffliey? ^Y*L gentle
men, I Had to pay the«oost erf .that trunk,
sm trunks cost in these itimesl .It took a
month's snSary to do it, which iau’t com
plimentary to the road, t learned one
lesson. If I ever want ter open any
man’s luggage in future I’ll sntesh’it iu
ityle.”—E. D. M. tin .New
York News.
Wonders) dr Fluorine Gas.
Silicon, a crystalline substance!closely
resembling the diamond, exposed to
fluorine gas, gives a very beautifvil reac
tion, showers of^brilliant span glean being
scattered in au directions froiin the
white hot crystals, which are (finally
melted. As they do not fnse -under
2,190 degs. Fahrenheit, one cant gain
some idea of the immense energy set
free during the combinaticm. B^tni lime
And chalk under the same circum stances
give a most gorgeous incandescence.
Phosphorus, as one might expqct, does
not fail to iUustre.te its powerfnli^ffinity
when exposed to the gas. Prussf ai blue
reacts* very- beauCHully and bunas with
a pinklflame. A\crystaS of iodi^h (placed
in a current of -Hie gas' give^ a pale
flame, y and a heavy liquid ^istills' over,
which*tches glass and' i&ses like red
hot iron; when thrown*. intr^twater.—
Chambers’ Journal.
Indian .Idols.:
The)lmagesof thelGods {in India,aro
not nu*de by a separate* ctaste,\hpt the
and maso|is respectively
and stand^dok;
the temples, ' tho potters Hie
ols; oasesumed in. daily worshjp,
brsaaprs, coppersmiths andgoldr
lo images in brass, idopper,
»1 gold and silver ihat are
private Homes. Tim.East
an alloy of brass-with
ids—gold,,silver, iucoi, tin,
ith the copper, and zinc
mixture of light petals—
alloy, and this is) highly
teri.nl for sacred
ledger.
ltf)ss(CompetU!on.
Sev.tPrfmin.'se—My son, Ijhqpe yon
don’t fish (on Sunday.
Urchin—Noi sfiree. I wait! til 11 Mon
day, when allffietmen is at w«irk,-f-Elato
houi^an.)P Find’s ‘Y/ashimjton. jt (*.•>.
' ' y + . K- ' :
less than a year since some officers had
suddenly appeared searching for the
smugglers supposed to be lurking in
that locality. Though they had suc
ceeded in throwing the officials off their
track then it would be more difficult to
do it again.
Anxious each to go his way, the pre
cious twain separated, the younger has
tening to warn their associates of the
impending danger, while tho other bent
his steps toward tho hiding place of
their contraband goods.
“So the hounds think to spell me
out!” muttered the smuggler chief as he
followed his way. “Well, inebbe they
will, but more’n likely they’ll find that
old Bnrk Brandon (gas a keener scent
than they!" and he smiled grimly, while
a latent fire shone in his small gray
eyes.
It was already nightfall when he
reached by boat that part of the lake’s
shore overldfiked by granite cliffs of
considerable height, but the moon ha !
risen, so the smuggler was enabled to
‘puisne his coarse without difficulty.
finding his way amid the bowlders
in his path, and then wad
ing ^ khajlow pool of water, he
-iiually.c^iaeiupon a spot where the cliff
.overhanging ,the water'in' a semicircle
foigncd a.smpil, cove which could not be
seen until fairly reachefi. " ' ’ ■
A narrow .shelf aboqt midway on the
side of the precipitous ascent offered a
foothold, and along .this .Brandon an-
hesitatingly threaded ftfe. courte.
When reaching the ; toe ,qf t tJ)is shoe
shaped retreat he gained on .opening in
the rocky wall where ft# curious path
way ended.
Entering within the dark recess lie
lighted a lantern and began to examine
the place, which was in truth nearly
filled with such articles as he and his
confederates had concealed there, hop
ing to dispose of them at their leisure.
“Poor fools!” he muttered, “to think
tba£ I shall ran the risk of staying in
ithese parts longer. Enough of these
^valuables to make me independent and
!l am off this very nightl Ha! hat some
of this old wine will clear my head for
the work before me.”
Speaking thus to himself, with an oc
casional potation of the liquor, he passed
perhaps half an hour in collecting the
treasures he wished to take away with
Mm Then, with a farewell look at the
balancd/rf their plunder, he turned to
retrace hw course.
Reaching fte mouth of the cavern he
found that the moon had risen above
the line of the .cliff so that its mellow
light fell fall upon Horseshoe cove,
lighting the place to' n^ost midday
brilliancy. ‘ , C
Extinguishing the light, he was about
to step out on the rocky pathway when
he started hack with a low cry.
Upon the opposite wall of the cliff he
.had discovered the shadowy outlines of-
a man with one hand uplifted and
pointed toward him.
At first be thonght the wine he had
drunk bad bewildered his bruin anil
that the image-was bnt a hallucination.
He rubbed bis eyes and looked again
to\find it still there, and after a few
minutes he was forced to beliefe his
gigbr.
‘ Ka! I see!” b* chnckled, “’fis some
one on the cliff and his shadow falls on
the rock there. Perhaps ’tis one of the
ofneers lookin for me! But his shadow
has betrayed him. I’U wait till he is
jftne before I venture out.”
On acconnt of a projecting rock he
■could not eee the pathway from his cov
ert, and he dared not leave the cave lest
be should be discovered and fired uxx>n
by his foes. Had he been armed with'
other than a knife he would have felt
. Ar>
less utieasy. As it was he lay qqiet
waiting for the danger to pass.
The time wore tediously away while
his gaze was riveted on the shadowy
form nntil his eyes became blurred and
his limbs benumbed.
To his xvonder the figure continued
motionless, though once or twice he
fancied there was a slight movement.
Several times he was upon the point
of leaving the cave, trusting to escape,
bnt he refrained from taking tho risk.
“The furies take ’em!” he muttered:
“they can shoot me down like a dog
without my liftin a finger."
_ He chafed at his helpless position and
blamed himself for coming again to the
place, while, higher and higher, the
great round moon stole up the dark bine
dome of night.
Still there was no visible change In
shadow on the rock. In his bewildered
state he never realized that with the
ascent of the moon its shape wonld alter
and its position vary, or if he did give it
» passing thought it only served to"in
tensify the mystery and increase his
fears.
Vainly he waited for it to disappear—
waited, until to his feverish vision it
grow plainer in outline, nntil ’ the
shadow}’ limbs seemed substantial, the
body tho rounded form of »living .be
ing!
“1 can’t stand this any longer!” he
cried at last. “I must take my chances
whatever they be?"
Freeing hims-.lf of the plunder be had
hoped to take away, so that he wonld
not be unduly cumbered, he crept oof
upon tho shelf.
Not a sound broke the stillness .of the
night save the ceaseless murmur of tho
sea. ■ '
Now that his back was turned upon
the phantom figure, and that bis hur
ried survey of the scene discovered uo
one, he moved forward with rising hope.
He had passed half of the circular dis
tance from the cave to the end of the
narrow pathway without anything to
alarm him, though at each furtive
glanco he saw the changeless shadow,
When the sound of footsteps reached
his ears.
A moment, later a man’s form came
around the edge of the cliff, and then a
second and a third.
With a low cry he turned to retrace
his coarse to the cavern, knowing that
once there he could defend himself
against a dozen, bnt in his excitement
he missM his foothold and, clutching in
vain upon the ledge, he went headlong
down its jagged side upon the rocks be
low-
A piercing cry that rang far and clear
(Oifthfl flight air,\ a sullen splash in the
water and a deutiiltke^Ailenqe^fpllowed.
TJie newcomers proved to be some'of
his own confederates, who, anxious at
his nonappearance, had come in search
of him.
The smugglers were abont to descend
to .the side of their unfortunate leader
when they saw for the first time the
shadowof the cliff.
Without stopping to solve the mys
tery they beat a hasty retreat to their
homes.
The next day it was found that the
supposed shadow was the painted figure
of a man. and, strange enongh. Bark
Brandon’s idiotic son had done the
work. He had coma to the place in
boat, and, having singular aptness in
this respect, had performed his self im
posed task with remarkable faithfulness
to nature. In the glimmer of the moon
light his father’s mistake was not un
natural, though it had cost him his life.
With the death of their chief the smug
glers no longer continued their nefari
ous business, so that Witless Jack had
unconsciously rendered an inestimable
service. That was several years since,
and though the figure has faded from
the rock, the place is known ap the
Smuggler's Shadow.—George Waldo
Browne in Yankee Blade.
A Collection of Old Pipes.
I have a collection of old English pipes
of all sizes and shapes, and have supplied
my friends with specimens, which they
use not actually for pipes, but- aa ciga
rette holders, and well adapted the
small bowls are for that purpose. In
my collection one may trace the history
and spread of tobacco by the gradually
increasing pipe bowl and the proportion
ate diminution of the supporting heel or
spur until with present-day clays it ik
a mere ornamental appendage.’ Softn
after smoking was introduced one writer
states that “the rich use silver pipes,
but the poor use walnut shells ‘ an^
straws.”
In 1573 Harrison, in his unpublished
“Chronologic," remarks that “these
daies the taking in of the smoke of the
Indian herb called Tobaco by an instru
ment like a little ladell is gretly taken
up and used in England against
Rewmes.” By 1619 there was an im
portant industry in clay pipes, and the
manufacturers were incorporated
“the craft of T. P. makers.” Later
pipes bear trademarks and initials
stamped on the heel, thns indicating the
various origins.—Cor. Pall Mall Gazette.
Surface Transit In Montreal.
Montreal is probably worse off in the
way of internal transit facilities than
any other large city on this conti
nent. The snowfall is so great that
three different styles of vehicles are
necessary in order to enable the company
to carry on its business. Cars are used
when the streets are free from snow,
Weighs aro used during the winter, and
daring the breakup in the spring, when
the slush is too deep to make clearing
the car track practicable, heavy omni
buses are used.—Engineering News.
Another week of tu'-cessful work has
just been accomplished at the .State
Normal College, and thoee In' cliaige
have every reason to feel satisfied with
the results. * , :
During the meeting of the County'
Teaohera Institute held last week, 227
names were enrolled,^aud these have
been in attendance during the past
week upon the Peabody Institute now
in session about seventy-&ve students!
These students are teachers, most of
them young, from ail over ’the stated
twenty-two counties being represented;
Next week quite an addition-'will bo
made to theenr^rment, -ahd'80>te e nete
features will be introduced, among
them a kindergarten department con
ducted br an expert in this important
brand of education. The programme
has been so changed that the exeiciees
occupy only one daily session, f ont
8a. m. to 2 o’clock p. m , thus af
fording more time fir study and prepa
ration on the part of the students. ’ v
During the coming week Prof. Mor
ris, of the jUaiversity,
has kindly consented to>' deliver
a series of lectures on English Litera
ture, and the teachers look Forward to a
literary treat from this distingtijshe4
scholar. These 1 etures will: occur in
he evenings and the public yrilj be in
vited to hear them.
Oo Thursday evenirg the teaohers oj!
the Lucy Cobb Institute will tender the
professors and students of the ’ Normal
College a reception, and of course will
be highly enjoyed by all. . -
President Evans went to Augusta
Friday afternoon but he will be at' his
po3t tomorrow. A glance at the work
of a Normal College at first is apt to
impress one who has thought but little
about the matter as being a little pecu
liar. Students usually attend college
for the purp’89 of acquiring a knowl
edge of esitain things and of trainiiig
cei tain mental faculties which will be
brought into use in practical lffe, bdt
they rarely think of the mental process
employed in obtaining this knowledge
much less of the methods of it toothers.
It is one thing to possess knowledge;
it is quite another thing to know how to
impart it toothers. The main obfect
of a Normal school is to traoh teachers
how to teach. It is expected that they
already know the subject matter to he
taught, that is the business
of tbe schools and' colleges,
but * Normal school they are taugkt
how to imptrt what they know in tbo
most skillful and economical manner to
children. This involves a thorough'
understanding of the fundamental prin
ciples of mjflital science, of mind,
growth and development, of child
nature, and of the nature c-f the kind of
knowledge presented to the pupil at
every stage cf its educational life. It
is impos8ihleto estimate the misohief
daily committed by inexperienced
teachers upon tbe minds of the young.
But the people, strange to say, seem
satisfied with such blunders. Their
physician must take a special course of
professional training in a medical col
lege before he is permitted to practice
in the family, the lawyer must go
through with a course of reading and
be admitted to the bar, even their colts
ged pointer dogs rnuat be' trained by
experienced instructors, but theilr chil
dren are turned over body and soul to a
tiacher who tinkers with their minds,
and too often develops a combination of
mental facilities, physical proportions,
and^noral inclinations, unsymmetrioal,
dwarfed into rain. It is high time that
the people of Georgia should sea to Jt
that none but trained ■ teaohera
shall have the sacred charge <of
their children’s education. Thflre are
nearly ten thousand teachers in .Geor
gia and the State as yet has made b<i^
leant provision for their training. It
a question whiph the next legislature
must pass, for already our State is far
behind her sister states in normal insti
tution. The faculty at the Normal
College are working under difficult^
but their earnestness and zeal and tl
hearty good-will cf tho students
result in much good for tbe State.
m
m
m
Cheap Signs.
A fairly cheap way of advertising
wares by sign is to have the lettering
painted right on the walls of the house.
In some cases we find large raised gold
letters fixed to the house walk Within
late years a method of affixing white
enamel letters to the window panes hits
come much into use. Very often, how
ever, this constitutes not so much a sign
as a partial specification of the wares
for sale within.—New York Times.
Did He Do It?
There was considerable exoitement on
the streets last uight on aosount of Mr.
Catter belongingto the Third party, and
on the repoit t f serious charges against
him. Mr. Carter deifies the accusations
and stands ready to prove it, while
others say that he does belong to the
Third party and that they cau prove
their ett rges true. If Mr. Carter can
prove tt it his assertions are right, then
the Democratic party is in honor bound
to vote for him, but should he not prove
it, then his nomination is fraudulent
and the Democrats can vote for who
they please. It is hoped that Mr. Car
ter can' and will make a clean showi
He needs the office.
Palmer and Kinnehrow are oarryiij
the best line^of flue French candies
the eily. - '
