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About The weekly banner. (Athens, Ga.) 1891-1921 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 8, 1892)
WlBW 00 *’' IgM I CnulMa ed with the Cbroalclc, Bat. I8TT (itteuBauw, III. 18M< ATHENS. QA., TUESDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 8,1892 IN MEMORY OF LESTER JAGGCR. We looked upon thy c&'..r., sweet sleep And said: Ah, wherefore should we weepT Why mourn because thy work is done. The crown by thco so early won? Thy life was brave and truo and fair; Thou lmdst not learned Ibe word despair; For thee was love In every breast; Thy life, and e'en thy death, was blest. O soul so full of music sweet. What harmonics thy coming greet; For us the sound of sobs and tears. For thee the songs and welcome cheers. But ye, within your home today. Whence all that's bright was borne away. What can I say to give relief. Or help you in your bitter grief? Your heart's wild anguish well I know. You reel beneath the heavy blow; And words to help you all are vain. They seura a mockery to your pain. But, father. In your face, to-day: 1 saw a look which seemed to say, “A stronger arm is round mo thrown. 1 bravely bear, but not alone.” Ah, mother, with your love so tras. No power is mine to comfort you. For, ns our pastor said today, ''Man cannot help you; let us pray!” —V. J. Ruppert In Rochester PosUEicpr TAKING HIM DOWN. “Now, Miss—er—er—Miss”—— “Fosdick." “Thanks, very mnchl Now, Miss Fos sick. in commencing your work as a Stenographer for the firm of Poplin & Son it is necessary for mo to instruct you as to your duties. 1 have charge of the house’s correspondence—entire charge. My name, Miss Fosdick, is Hippie,” "Yes, Mr, Hippie," the girl replied meekly. “In the first place,” Mr. Hippie went on. leaning back in his chair so as to ex pand his chest to its utmost capacity, and and twisting the ends of his mustache both hands as he spoke; “in the first place, 1 always insist on my stenograph er’s taking me down verbatim et litera tim. 1 suppose you know what that means. It’s Latin,” he added conde scendingly. “Yes, sir." "Well, Miss Fosdick, I have had the house's correspondence in my hands for several years, and the Messrs. Poplin have come to rely implicitly upon me. In deed 1 do not really see how this depart uient could move along without me.” The girl’s gray eyes looked at the in dispensable clerk with an amnsed ».n his fatherly shouldor. Ho was not too old to shake meutal note of how long her lashes lay on her-rosy cheeks, and. how dewdrops of tears oozed through them. “What am I doing?” Mabel exclaimed as she bethought herself of the picture she and Mr. Poplin would present if any one should come into the office, and she promptly raised her head. “You did iust right.” said Mr. Poplin, referring to her treatment of Mr. Hippie. “The presumptuous rascal! Nevermind, little girl—er—Miss Fosdick. I'll settle with Mr. Hippie myself. In the mean time you may take a couple of days off. Go home right away, and I’H see that he annoys yon no more.” After the fair typewriter had put on her wraps and gone home Mr. Hippie was called into the private office, and Mr. Poplin asked him; “Are yon in the habit of reading and signing the firm’s letters after the type writer has taken them from your dicta tion and transcribed them, Mr. Hippie?” When Mr. Poplin took the extra time necessary to use the prefix “Mister” in addressing one of the clerks it was an in dication that the subject of the inter view was of more than ordinary impor tance. It was with some perturbation, therefore, that Mr. Hippie replied: “Well, sir, 1 used to, but 1 found Miss Fosdick so scrupulously exact that lately 1 have permitted her to sign and mail letters dictated to her without my read ing. She takes me down word for word, sir, so 1 feel that it isn’t necessary for me to read them over.” “The reason why 1 asked you that question is this: 1 received a note from Mr. Shaw this morning—of Shaw & King, you know—in which he asks an explanation of a letter that he had just received from this house. Perhaps you can give the needed explanation after 1 have read yon the letter. Messrs. Shaw & King: Gentlemen—Your favor of Monday was re ceived in due course. Got that down, sweet ness? In reply we would say—I'd like*a sweet kiss from those ruby lips—say that the goods you mention—you charming creature, why are you so cold to me?—mention were shipped yes terday morning. Your birdlike voice thrills me through and through! Why do you never smile on your adorer? Hoping that they have arrived in good condition—give mo ju9t one kiss, Mabel, darling, won't you?—and that they give perfect satisfaction—got that down, little beauty?—we beg to remain yours, very txuly- oue kiss now—1 insist—what are you strug gling for?—your obedient servants, Popmn A Son. After a painful pause the senior men- BOOTH IN HAMLET. Once In fife's rosy dawn I saw'the towers Of Klslnnre rise on tire painted scene— The king, the ghost usil the unhappy queen i saw, anil fair Ophelia with her flowers. And heard the slow toll toll the passing hours. But when you entered with dojected mien. The others were us though they had not toen; We wejt with Hamlet, for his griefs were ours. And here tonight, amid the listening crowd That hangs upon your lips. I see the flame iThe sacred Are uor time nor age can qncll. Howe'er the mortal frame to changed aDd | . bowed) Burn clear as the high places whence it came. | J'nxson, I hou royal Dane: hail and farewell. —Flora Macdonald .Shearer in l.lppiucotl's. A FAIR RECLUSE. tW “l k ihink I can say. Miss Fosdick.” the j ^rof the firm went on: young man proceeded as he settled him- j Mr ' Hippie, 1 think I’ll attend to the self more comfortably in bis chair, “and I think i can say it without the slightest egotism or desire to boast, that i have made the letters of Poplin & Son famous throughout the business world as models of English composition and ornate dic tion.” The clerk watched the countenance of his new assistant closely to note the impression of his words. Miss Fosdick nodded understanding!}- and smiled. It was a sweet smile, for she could not smile any other sort had she tried. "Those are the reasons why 1 always insist on absolute accuracy on the part of my stenographer. 1 do not permit even the alteration of a single word or any other change whatever. 1 trust yon apprehend me clearly.” "Quito so. Mr. Hippie.” “Then we will begin.’ Mabel Fosdick’s first day’s work was perfectly satisfactory to the hyper critical correspondence clerk. He found himself taken down with unvarying accuracy. In the transcribed letters, too, the words were all spelled correctly. She never struck the wrong character on her machine—a fault so common among typewriters, and one which some times helps to make typewritten com munication resemble Egyptian hiero glyphics. The firm of Poplin & Son had been served by a masculine typewriter, hut the style of the correspondence clerk had become too oppressive for him, and he had resigned. This was exactly what Mr. Hippie wished, for he longed for a typewriter with laughing eyes and golden hair upon whom to lavish his flowers of lan guage—such a being as he had read about in the funny papers. At last he had found one to cait him, after much examination of applicants, in the person of Miss Fosdick. Everything went on with apparent Binoothness for about a month. The members of the firm noted with ap proval the modest demeanor of their new typewriter, and the other male clerks in the establishment envied Hip pie his pleasant duties. One day the elder Mr. Poplin sent for Miss Fosdick to come into his private office. "Sit down, please,” he said when she arrived. “1 have here a letter from my friend Mr. Shaw, of Shaw& King, who says that a communication from this firm contains much irrelevant matter.” _ Poplin looked over his glasses at Miss Fosdick and found her blushing, with her eyes cast down. He asked, not un kindly: “Did you write a letter to that firm lately?” "Yes, sir.” “Then you know its character?” “Yes, sir." "What have yon to say abont it?” * "1 wrote it down just as Mr. Hippie dictated it, sir.” "So 1 supposed after reading it; but la it not rather unusual to insert in let ters extraneous remarks made daring dictation?" “Ho has always insisted on being taken down verbatim et literatim, sir,” the pretty typewriter went on with some confusion, “and really, sir, Mr. Hippie has annoyed me so much with his at tentions and has refused to desist that 1 felt I must do something to crush him. I’m sorry I took the method 1 ^id—1 oughtn’t to—oh, dear, what shall Ido?” And Miss Fosdick put her dainty cam bric handkerchief to her eyes, and*her tpeech dissolved in tears. “There! there! my dear girl, don’t cry,” said Mr. Poplin soothingly- , He took her bawd to assist in the com- correspondence of this firm hereafter myself, and what lovemaking it,is nec essary to do to the typewriter 1 will also look after. The cashier will give you your salary to date. Good morning, sir.” “The idea!” exclaimed Mr. Poplin to his son, the junior member, half an hour later, when he had laid the whole mat ter before him. “The idea that a worn anly and modest girl like Miss Fosdick should be so grossly mistreated in my establishment exasperates me. She’s pretty and sweet and altogether adinira ble.” “1 rather admire Hippie’s taste,” said the son. “Oh, yon do!” exclaimed the father. “Then 1 suppose 1 have done wrong in discharging the scamp, even when he knew his attentions were distasteful to the girl?” “No, father, yon did quite right. Of course it would not do for that sort of thing to continue.” “Of course it wouldn’t. It would bo persecution of as sweet a girl as Iknow.” “Why, you are not in love with her yourself, are you, father?” “I? A wi iower yf fifteen years’ stand ing? The idea! Can’t an elderly man defend a helpless young woman without such an imputation as that?” “Oh, certainly!" Then the conversation dropped. Old Mr. Poplin was in love with Miss Fosdick nevertheless, and he resolved to ask her to be his son’s stepmother on the first opportunity. He thought, more over, that he would make that opportu nity when she should report for duty. Miss Fosdick returned to the store at the appointed time and proceeded straight to the private office. The elder Mr. Poplin was alone. “Good morning, Mr. Poplin,” said Miss Fosdick with her sweetest smile. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” Mr. Poplin re plied, raising his eyes above his news paper. "Sit down. Miss Fosdick, please. Before you take the lid off your type writer 1 have something—er—to say to you rather—er—important I have been thinking of you almost constantly since you went away two days ago, and 1 wanted to—er—ask you” “One moment, please, Mr. Poplin,” Miss Fosdick interrupted him to say; “you must pardon me, but 1 have not come back to work." “Eh? What’s that?" “No, sir. Fact is I—that is—your son, sir—has done the honor to—to—pro pose, and—and"— “The sly young rascal!" ejaculated Poplin, not giving her a chance to finish. “Well, 1 suppose I’ll have to be a father to yon, and 1 will say 1 am proud of my new daughter.” Then he thought: “1 wonder if she really suspected what I was going to say?"—William Henry Siviter in Smith, Gray & Co.’a Monthly. The Raised Edge of a Coin. The smooth raised edge aroflnd the face of modern coins, and inclosing the device as a frame incloses a picture, not only adds a great deal to the beauty of the piece, bat serves a double utilitarian purpose, first to protect the designs from wear, and second to afford a horizontal surface so that the coins may be piled np vertically one on top of another without danger of toppling over. As soon as the raised edge is worn fzom a coin it loses its clear beanty of design and fast degenerates into a mere char acterless disk of metaL Owing to the long rest which metallic currency had in this country during the reign of greenbacks and shinplastera United States coins are remarkably clear cut and well preserved. Even coins minted before the war retain part Dkak FilANK—I have found the very house for you -Jacobean period and almost original. It was a trifle spoiled by some Philistine indi vidual about thirty years since, bnt with your taste and the aid of the lecal architect every thing can be pnt right. This pearl of houses goes by the name of Thorpe manor, and is of course haunted, so you may relieve the monot ony of country life by a genuine ghost hunt. Kvor yours, John Ripoway. P. H.-Tlie house 1s In Murrey, about four miles from Winton station. You had totter come down at once, as I hear mine one else Is after It. At that time I was a fairly good look ing. well to do bachelor of thirty-five. My ample leisure 1 devoted to antiqua rian researches, literary work and the collection of “curios.” 1 had no rela tives and few friends, and l lived an almost solitary and perfectly happy life in nty chambers. Among what some people called my -craze” was an enthusiasm for ancient honses. and 1 had deputed John Ridg- way, an artist friend of mine who lived in Surrey, to find me a genuine old conn- try house—a dreamy, rambling place— where I could spend the summer. 'Hence Ilia letter. As the train steamed into the little station at Winton John rushed np to my carriage aud clasped my hand. Dear old chap! he quite beamed with joy at the prospect of showing me his wonder ful house. “Charming old placel I’ve had my eye on it for months!” he said as he walked over the common. Then he produced the inevitable note book and pencil amt was soon drawing plans and explaining details. As we passed through the village we called ityon the hoase agent and took him with ns. He^wsig a prosaic man. and evidently thosigiit we were a couple of mild lunatics, tm excited did we be come when snddevly turning a corner at the foot of a stecy incline we stood in front of Thorpe mama*. It was a quaint old house, standing back a little from the road, and its walls were as perfect as when first built, but mellowed and beautified by time. We walked up the prim gravel path to the wide doorway with its fantastic carviug. Here our agent produced a huge, rusty key and unlocked the door, which swnng hack easily on its large hinges. We entered and went through the rooms, which had low ceilings and broad window seats. Most of these had paneled walls, though some of them had been covered with paper, which of course we said innst come off. One of the bedrooms—which 1 thought from the elaborate carving on the high man tel shelf and the beautiful oak paneling had originally been the state one—was perfect. 1 felt strangely attracted to this room. 1 know not why, and as we turned to leave 1 lingered behind the others for a parting glance. Then 1 slowly went down the winding stairway. Seen the ghost?” asked John jest ingly. The agent looked uneasy. Ghosts are tiresome things, apt to militate very much against the chances of securing a good tenant, bnt 1 reassured him by re marking that 1 rather liked ghosts, and that, so far as I could see, the house was exactly what 1 wanted. Of course there were many details to be settled about the lease, repairs and other matters, and 1 stipulated that 1 should be allowed to make some alterations, such as remov ing the staring plate glass with which the late owner had “modernized” the windows of the lower rooms. Six weeks later 1 was installed in my new residence. The alterations were not nearly completed, but declining the Ridgways’ pressing invitation to hike np my quarters with them. 1 occupied two rooms in the old house and engaged a woman in the village to come daily and attend to my siqiple wants. On the third evening after my arrival 1 was smoking my favorite pipe by a wood fire in the oakroom, which i had made my bedroom. It was nearly 12 o'clock, bnt being accustomed to late hours I did not feel inclined for bed- far from it. 1 decided to have one more pipe, and hastily taking up my pouch 1 began to refill my pipe. Suddenly 1 stopped short, and with my little finger still rammed into the bowl of the pipe left my chair and walked to the opposite side of the reoin. for I could have sworn 1 saw the paneling move ever so slightly upward. Nor was I mistaken; for very slowly the whole paqel disappeared, and in the opening stood the figure of a wo- man. The room was dark, for the wood fire had began to snteldev, so 1 could not see what she was like—#oung or old. ugly or beautifuL 1 was not nenrom^—I had % profound disbelief in the supernatural—so 1 rim ply waited to see what the intrader pro posed to do. She advanced into the room and came close to my elbow, then raised her hand and beckoned me to fol low her. Of contse I went, and she led tne through the aperture and down a steep wooden staircase. It was pitch dark, Bnt I struct matches at intervals. My companion went on quickly, never looking behind her, bnt 1 smiled as she raised her skirts gingerly from the dusty stain, and once 1 saw the woman shod' der as a rat scuttled by. “No ghsst this,” thought L On we went down the wooden stairs till at last we came te some stone ones, all green and humid, owing to neglect. We continued onr course, going down flight after flighjt of damp, slippery stairs, till at ldngtly to my relief, my door, then opened it and entered. Fol lowing her, I fouud myself in a low, vaultlike chamber, more like a cell than anything else. The floor was Stone, the walls were hare, hut it was*appareutly inhabited, for the tv were a few articles of furniture—a rickety, spindle legged table, a couple of high baeked, worm eaten chairs and a battered horsehair sofa. In the grate, too, burned a snTall .tire and a couple of tall, white candles in tarnished sconces were on the narrow mantelshelf. In the dim light afforded by these candles and the fire 1 closely scrutinized the woman who had brought me there. She was tall aud slender, and wore a | long russet gown of an,old fashioned cut, but her face was pale and sad, with sharp, clear cut features, and a mass of rough, reddish hair was carelessly twisted into a long kupt at the nape of her neck. She motioned me to one of the chairs, taking the other herself, and she now pat bending over the fire, apparently too deep in her own bitter reflections to be conscious of my presence. The expres sion on her thin, worn face was very sorrowful, and her hands were tightly clinched in her lap. But, though thin and worn, her face was still lovely, and as 1 gazed I thought how lovely it would he were the hollows filled out and the deep lines smoothed away. Suddenly, with a little resolute ges ture, she turned toward me and began to speak in low, rapid tones. “1 brought yon here because I wanted to tell you my story, and 1 want your help if you will give it.” Then, with voice rising and falling with varying emetious, and with deep gray eyes fixed on my face, she told her sad tale. The beginning was common place enongh—a beautiful, willful girl: a stern, unyielding father; two lovers, one brave and handsome, the other mo rose and unattractive; a proposed flight; a sudden death; a broken heart—the last three were the tragic elements. “Aud 1 saw them carry him by the house—dead,” she said, speaking in a strange, dull way, “aud for a loug time 1 think I mast have lost my senses. When my father still insisted on my marriage with the wretch he had chosen for my husband 1 raised no protest. 1 viewed the preparations for the wed ding with indifference. 1 seemed turned to stone. But a week before the mar riage my reason returned, and I realized the horror of the coil which was slowly tightening around me. Then it was that 1 determined on what was virtuall a living burial, i was born in this dear old house, and I knew every nook and cranny of it. My foster mother had shown ine the sliding panel ip the room above that which I then occupied, and she and 1 were the only living persons who knew the secret. She was devoted to me. and i at length won her over to my plan. “On the night before my bridal day 1 fled dowu here, and here 1 have remained ever since. For eight years I have been dead*- :o the world. 1 had valuable jewelry which had been my dead moth er’s; that has been gradually sold, and on the proceeds I have subsisted. My foster mother comes daily and bring.! me food—not through the house of course. There is a secret path and door of communication in the garden.” “And the ghost?" 1 queried. -Ob,” she said, with a queer little smile. “I am tho“ghost! Yon see, wanted to keep the house empty, so that might wander about the rooms and grounds: but uow 1 am tired of this un natural existence. Life will always he sad for me! 1 have had a dreadful grief and all my dear ones are dead; but, in spite of all, my youth reasserts itself, and solitude has at last lost its charm. So wish to return to the world, aud you can help me to do so. Will you?” Of course 1 helped her, and within a week from that time the Thorpe manor ghost”—now laid forever—was safe under the kind wing of John Ridgway’: homely little wife, and by the time the roses were blooming in my sweet scented old fashioned garden the ghost,” too, had bloomed into beauty, and 1, sober old bachelor, had fallen in love—quite hopelessly, 1 told myself for her heart was with her dead, and yet it happened that one June afternoon as we stood alone by the sundial on the sloping shady lawn, something gave me conrage. Perhaps it was that she looked so sweet in her fresh muslin gown, with the flowers in her belt, or perhaps because 1 caught a strange, fleeting look in her shy gray eyes; any way 1 know she murmured that she loved the dear old home with its many gables and pretty garden. Then whispered: “Need yon ever leave it?" And look ing under the broad brimmed garden hat into her flashed happy face 1 added ••Come, sweet ghost, and haunt the old place forever!” And she consented.—Mnnyen's Maga zine; ^ THE CLAMBAKE OF RHODE ISLAND. The Homelbs man in Athens \s well as the handsomest, and >thers are invited to call on any drug gist and get free & trill bottle of Kemp r Balsam for the Throat and Lungs, remedy that is selling entirely upon its merits and is guaranteed to rel’eve and sore all Chronic and Acute Coughs, Asthma Bronchitis and Consumption r .arge bottles ISO cents and (1 Another Flcht for HcAnllflfo. New<York, NoV. 8.—Jack McAuliffe has announced that he has signed with the Crescent City Athletic club to fight Bnrge, the English light weight for the championship at 138 ponads and for » purse of $15,000, Burge'is expected J purse OI HUIgC ia CAIICLICU IU arrive here in ATeW weeks, and it is said he is also signed to figjitin New Orleans. It is all a mistake about Klein Martin charging more for their work than these small shops scattered over the county. They may charge you a little more lor jobs than what Ho, for tho sea. Die moss isreeu ktovo. Where tho rocks In a glow lug pile. With roekweeil make a fragrant bod. For clams to rest awhile. With biue.flsh from the briny deep. With sweet corn from the Hol'd; And sweet potatoes from the south. Their fragrant breath will yield. Tho ambrosial feasts of the fabled gods Are as naught compared .with thee. Thou delicious, fragrant, delightful thing, Thou (dambake by the sea! —Eua A. Brow in Providence Journal. THAT MIRROR. to It was altogether queer, and Jingle- berry to tills day does not entirely un derstand it. He had examined his heart as carefully- as he knew how. and had arrived at tho entirely reasonable con clusion that he was in love. He had every symptom of that malady. When Miss Marian Chapman was Within range of his vision there was room for no one else there. He suffered from that pe culiar optical condition which enabled him to see but one thing at a time when she was present, and she was that one thing, which was probably the reason why in his mind's eye she was the only woman in the world, for Marian was ever present before Jingleberry’s meutal optic. mo .. He had also examined .os thoroughly as he could in hypothesis the heart of this “ouly woman," and he had—or thought he had, which amounts to the same vhing—reason to believe that she eciproeated his affection. She certainly seemed glad always when lie was about. She called him by his first name, and sometimes quarreled with him as she quarreled with no one else, and if that wasn’t a sign of love in woman, then Jingh-berry had studied the sex all his years -and they were thirty-two—for nothing. In short Marian behaved so like a sister to him that Jingleberry. knowing how dreams and women go by oqtraries, was absolutely sure that a sister was just the reverse from that re lationship which in her heart of hearts he was willing to assume toward him and he was happy in consequence. Believing this, it was not at all strange hat 1 e should make up his mind to pro pose marriage to her. though, like many ither men, ha was somewjmt chicken learted m coming to the patnt. Fam ines had he called upon Maaian for tsa sole purpose of asking her to baaegae his wife, aad four times had ha led up to the point and then talked about some thing else. NVhat quality it is-in man that makes a ceward of him in the pres ence of one lie considers Ms dearest friend is not within the proviso of this narrative to determine, but .ftngleborry had it in its most virulent foatn. He had often got so far along iu hisproposal as, “Marian—er—will you—will you”— and there he had as often stooped, con tenting himself with sack yoinmonplace conclusions as “go to the matinee with tne tomorrow?" or “ask your father for me if he thinks the stock market is like ly to strengthen soon?" and other amaz ing substitutes for the words he so ar dently desired yet feared to utter. But this afternoon — the one upon which the extraordinary events about to be narrated took place—.Jingleberry had called, resolved not to be llalked ia his determination to learn his fate. He had come to propose, and propose he would, rnat ccelum. His confidence in a successful termination to his suit had been re-enforced that very miming by the receipt of a note from Miss Chap man asking him to dine'with her par ents and herself that evening, and to accompany them after dinner to the opera. Surely that meant a great deal, and Jingleberry conceived that the time was ripe for a blushing “yes" to his long deferred question. So he was here in the Chapman parlor waiting for the young lady to come down and become the recipient of the "interesting inter rogatory,” as it is called in some sec tions of Massachusetts. I’ll ask her the first thing,” said Jingleberry, buttoning np his Prince Albert, ns though to impart a possibly needed stiffening to his backbone. “She will say yes, and then 1 shall enjoy the dinner and the opera so much the more. Ahem! 1 wonder if 1 am pale—1 feel sort of—um— There’s a mirror. That will tell.” Jingleberry walked to the mirror—an oval, gilt framed mirror, such as was very much the vogue fifty years ago, for which reason alone, no donbt, it was now admitted to the gold and white parlor of the house of Chap man. “Blessed things, these mirrors,” said Jingleberry, gazing at the reflection of his face. ‘ ‘So reassnring. I’m not at all pale. Quite the contrary. I’m red as sunset. Good omen that! The sun is setting on my bachelor days—and my scarf is crooked. Ah!” The ejncnlation was one of pleasure, for pictured in the mirror Jingleberry aaw the form of Marian entering the room through the portieres. “How do yon do, Marian? Been ad miring myself in the glass,” he said, turning to greet her. “l—er’ Here he stopped, as well he might, for he addressed no one. Miss Chapman was nowhere to be seen. “Dear me!" said Jinglebesay, rubbing bis eyes in astonishment. '' Btfw extraor dinary! 1 thought sure 1 sarw her—vaijy, 1 did see her—that is, I saw her reflection in the gla— Ha! ha! She eanght me goring at myself there and has Ridden. He walked to the door and pulled the portiere aside and looked into the hall. There was no one there. Be searched every corner of the hall and of the din ing room at its end, and then returned to the parlor, but it was sfill empty. And then occurred the most strangely unaccountable event in his fife. As h‘e looked around the parlor he for the second time found himself before the mirror, bnt the reflection therein, though it was of himself, was of himself, 'with his hack tnmed to his mil self, as he stood gazing amazedly into the,g!^ss and besides this, although Jingleberry was alone in the real parlor, the" “reflec- BWUTS, UU us leugin, to m3- icuia, u.j , , , . •> companion paused before a heavy oaken will do it & great deal better. some jods tnan wnat you . micrlit nava pnhblpr hut tliPv I tion of the daint y room showed that nugnt pay a coDDier, out mej there ha waa not f6r K&Ui a in her accustomed gracefn) attitude in the re- flecteil^wuiclftiir was nothing less than the counterfeit presentment of Marian Chapman herself. It was a wonder Jingleberry’s eves did not fall out of his head, he stared so. What a situation it was, to be sure, to stand there and see in the glass a scene hieli. as far as lie could observe, had no basis iu reality: and interesting it was for Jingleberry to watch himself going through the form of 'chatting pleasantly there iu the mirror’s depths with the woman he loved! It almost made film jealous, though, the reflected Jingleberry was so entirely independent of the real Jingleberry. The jealousy soon gave way to consternation, for, to the wondering snitor, the independent reflection was beginning to do that for which he himself had come. In other words, there was a proposal going on in the glass, and Jingleberry enjoyed the novel sensation of seeing how he him self would look when passing through a similar ordeal. Altogether, however, it was not as pleasing as most novelties are, for there were distinct signs in the faceof themir rored Mari;ui that, the mirrored Jingle- berry’s words were distasteful to hflr and that the proposition tie was making was not one she could entertain nnder any circumstance. She kept shaking her head, and the more "she shook it the more Hie glazed Jingleberry seemed to implore her to be his. Filially Jingle berry saw his quicksilver counterpart fall upon his kuqes before Marian of the glass and hold out his arms and hands toward her in an attitude of prayerful despair, whereupon the girl sprang to her feet, stained her left foot furious ly upon the floor aud pointed the unwel come lover to the door. Jingleberry was fairly staggered.. What could be the meaning of so extraor dinary a freak of nature? Surely it must be prophetic. Fate was kind enough to warn him in advance, ho doubt: otherwise it was a trick. And why should she stoop to play so paltry a trick as that upon him? Surely fate would not be so petty. No, it was a warning. The mirror had been so af fected by some supernatural agency that it dinned and reflected that which was to be, instead of contenting itself to what Jingleberry called “simultaneity." It led instead of following or acting eo- incidently with the reality, and it.was the part of wisdom, ho tlmuglTt, for him to yield to its suggestion and retwat. and" as he thought this he heard a soft, sweet v»ice behind him. “1 hope yon haven’t got tired of wait ing, Toni." it said, and, turning, Jingle berry saw the unquestionably real Marian standing in the doorway. No,” he answered shortly. “1—1 have had a pleasant— very entertaining ten inmates; but 1 must hurry along, Marian," he added. “1 only came to tell you that I have a frightful t headache, and—er—1 can’t very well manage to come to dinner or go to the opera with you tonight." . “Why, Tom.” pouted Marian, “1 anr awfully disappointed. I had counted on you, aud uow my whole evening will be spoiled. Don’t you think you cau rest a little while, aud then come?" Weil, l—l want to, Marian,” said Jingleberry, “but to tell tho truth I -l really am afraid i am going to lie ill. I’ve had sncli a strange experience this afternoon. 1” Tell me what it was,” suggested Marian sympathetically, and Jingleberry did tell her what it mas. He told her the whale story from beginning to end — what he had come for, how he had hap pened to look in the mirror and what he saw there, aud Marian listened atten tively to every word he said. She langhed once or twice, and when he had done she reminded him that mirrors had habit of reversing everything, and somehow or other Jingleberry’s head ache went, and—and—well, everything went.—John Kendrick Bangs in Chicago Post. A GOOlTuPENING. $ 1.00 A YEAR i Hf 111 SHOT AND KILLED. HERRING KILLS ADKINS SIDNEY J. AT SMITH0NIA. The Dead Man Was Charged With Seducing Herring’s Daughter— Herring Surrenders to the Au thorities. PjirrnONiA, Nov. 5.—[Speoial This little town was thrown into a fever of excitement this evening by a shooting scrape in which one man was killed by au infuriated father, whose daughter It is said was seduced by the man who was kil’ed, M. B. Herring was the man who did the shooting and Sidney J. Adkins was the man who waski led. Herring is a farmer living in this neighborhood, and Adkins was a guard at Oglethorpe branch penitentiary. Herring will give himself up to the authorities. The coroner’s inquest will be held tomorrow. A WOMAN FRIEND. A woman friend is a wise counselor. She looks at all sides of every question, and has a tine regard for a man’s honor in ary and all affairs. She will never give him any advice that will injure his character or reputation. The writer of this has one pieteuded woman friend who believes in the adage, ‘‘What I will, I win, what I won’t, I won’t.” She sometimes hits the nail on tho head and sometimes she don’t. Go to Skiff the jeweler, for anything you need in the jewelry line and ask about the oity clock. EDITOR T. L. GANTT Has Ccme Home to Vote for Grover Cleveland. Editor Latry Gantt, of the Columbia Register, arrived in the city last night. He has come home to vMe for Cleve- lar d and Stevenson and Lawson. Editor Gantt called at the Banner office last night. Be says that the Third party in South Carolina is not in it, and that Weaver will not poll five thousand votes in that State, “I consider the outlook bright for Demccrscy,” said Editor Gantt. “I confidently expect Cleveland to carry New York by fifty thousand majority, and he will receive in the Electoral College three hundred and two votes.” Editor G^ntt also said that Tom Watson , is doomed to defeat in the Tenth district. He says that sometime between now and Christmas, Governor Tillman, Senator Irby, and Congress man McLaurin, of South Carolina, will pay Athens a visit. Editor Gantt is making a phenome nal success of his paper and will re main at its editorial helm. A well-established Livery Business for sale on easy terms. Gann & Reaves old stand, Thomas street, Athens, Ga. Address, J, M. Barry, Pro’p. SILVER MINE Found in Five Miles of Athens—A Five Dollar Nugget< It has always been claimed .that there was silver near Athens, and that it only required money to develop the mines. It now proves true that there is plenty of it and within five miles of Athens. At the Channcey farm on the Jug Tav ern road there was found one day this week a nugget of pure silver that is val ued at five dollars. A ge ntl< man walk ing through one of the fields ou the Channcey plantation stuck his heel against what he supposed to be a rock, and on glancing down saw that it was very bright aud heavy, and being judge of silver ore at once pronounced it to be a nugget of silver that was worth five dollars. There has already HOW 18 THIS? Tree Like the (Deadly Upas—Dead Birds Found Under it. One of the numerous Athens fisher men Jias just returned from a week’s fish up the Oconee anx tells a tale of a tree that he t aw only a few yards from the banks of the Oconee which nearly equals the deadly Upas tree of which we read in history. “This tree,” said the .fisherman, “Is about thirty feet high and covered with a beautiful white flower that has a pe culiar smell. The tree is filled with birds of nearly every description who eat or suck the flower, and after some minutes they fall to the ground and look like they are dead. After lying on the ground awhile they come to and hop off and are again able to fly, and I no ticed that after getting their fill of the flowers and falling to the ground, they leave for other parts and don’t try the flowers any more. 1 picked up some of the birds from under the tree to bring home, but they soon came to life and got away. It is certainly a wonder and any one can see the tree by going up the Oconee river six or seven miles.” SMALL INDUSTRIES. Our People Taking interest In the Movement. ^conversation with one of our mer chants yesterday he said: “I have read your articles on Athens starting np small industries and am confident it ia the best thing that Athens can do. Now for instance a factory for making men and boys pants would pay and give work to hundreds of the widows of onr _ city who are d epee dent on the needle b-en negotiations made to buy the place | alone for a support. We have had in and it irf more than likely that we will have silver dollars made in our city. “A chpmicaVsuccess and medical triumph,” so speaks an eminent physi cian in reference to Ayer’s Cherry Pec toral; and the. eulogy was none too strong. No other medicine is so safe and efficacious in all diseases of the throat and lungs. Do nut have your buggies and wagons repaired, and horses and mules shod by cobblers, hut carry them to Klein & Martin and get it done first class, and it w ! ll not cost you any more. this city in the last week, drummers from North Carolina, Birmingham and Chicago, who are selling pants made In their cities that can be made in Athens as cheap or cheaper than they are of- ferirg to sell them at. Keep the ball moving, and in lees than a year we will have hundreds of first-class workmen moving to our city, and ship out goods instead of having them shipped to ns.* Don’t 1—If a dealer offers you a bottle of Salvrtian Oil without wrapper or in a mutilated condition, don’t touch it —don’t buy it at any price, there is semething wrong—it may bo a dange rous or worthless counterfeit. Insist upon getting a perfect, unbroken, genu ine package. Be on y. urguard 1
