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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
