The Cartersville courant-American. (Cartersville, Ga.) 1888-1889, September 27, 1888, Image 3

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Two Rokpk. , i{e leaves whh each ft flower, I,l ' wiiPii passion work iH done, . hearts are turnings dimly th, we,,,<-r„ n. when some e.ve #ca*e buck fondly. , " 1(! name with dull tears wet The white rone of remembrance, The red rose of regret. luA vou. my warm heart’s idol, viv iove, my jov, my soul! .. ..whom all else was lavished r V n( l life a biottei scroll. Memory opens her churchyard ■ I hove come claim ns debt Th, pale rose of remembrance, ( ', r dark rose of regret? ~, r i who hasten gladly Towards the netting sun ; „■ whom Life held one passion, hut tie fought and won, j,,ft two broken flowers ' Vn ,l both with salt tears wet,) • w hite rose of remembrance, -j he red rose of retfret. New Orleans Picayune. HIPER. BY WALTER BESANT. .'v peak. i>ka.h (xtHi/*—l told them . t | ,-uijd not. indeed, read all. but that j Vi . ()U (] rend t hem what 1 could, and thin w . :> beautiful beginning. in order that j g ul'i. know at the outset, so thought t a In- was. and for fear of my being anx the [loint. that lie loved me still. , IY , ; (1 never forgotten me “My dear. ri- It is now six years since I bade j. o; ; ; revve.ll at your garden gate and : upon my journey to Ijondou. y, rnr i : her bus doubtless told you how 1 j. r ,. .. . h myself and with what kindness j . ivecived me lam very sure that you iK.t forgotten me. and I hope that vou '.rid rejoice to hear of my good for tan Hope, indeed' Could he not be gliir ‘I have no doubt, also, that ho luit’i informed you of the strange good fort :no which befell me after tie left me at the East India company’s house, of k whi i I told him by letter and special m or. to whom 1 gave, to insure . mid safe delivery, one shilling.” (But it would appear that this messenger broke '.is word and took the shilling, but did nothing foi it—a common thief, who d t .s' 0.l to bo hanged, like many an-, otiici i o more wicked than himself Oh! wii.u punishment too great for this breach ot trust, small as it seemed! See. now what a world of trouble was mused by that little theft.) “It was truly by special providence that, while Mr Silvertop talked with me. the great captain who won the Battle of Plassy should have been standing near and should have over heard what passed When I was bidden go my wavs for a foolish boy (because I did not wish to be a writer) and waste his time no longer, 1 was much cast down, for now 1 began to fear that I must, like the most of mankind, take what was assigned to me by providence rather than what I should like And I could plainly see that there remained only one choice for me; namely, I must return to the hated rule of my cousin v/ho would keep me as a plowboy as long as he could, or I must be take mo to the task of sweeping out and serving a shop And yet, what shop? But who would employ mo? Therefore I hung my head and stood irresolute without the company’s house Now presently the gentleman whom 1 had seen within came forth with another onicer, brave in scar let He saw mo standing sadly beside the posts, and inspired lay that hoblo gener- Losity which has always distinguished this 'great mail, he clapped his hand upon my shoulder “‘So.' ke^ said, ‘you are the lad who i loves a sword hotter than a peri? * *li '.t please your honor, ’ I replied. “ 'A sworn means peril to Life and limb,’ he said sternly, he who goes a-fighting' in ; India must at hard fate, rough sleep- j iny, iude k - Ho must be ever on the watch against treachery Ho must meet duplicity with equal cunning. lie 1 must obey blindly, he must never ask why; if ho is sent to die like a rat in a hole, he r r go without muimur or question Wlmt* vou think —do you?— j that to carry a sword is to flaunt a scarlet | coat before the ladies of St. James?” “ ‘Kay, sir, with respect 1 have read tha U o; s.ddu ,-s I would v\ 51 iagly tuke the and :;grr for the sake of the honor, But alas! i must stay at home and sweep , a shop. ’ What is thy birth, boy?' I t i that, and satisfied him on i in. Inking the reason of my j %dt m ! .':• h i trust that 1 was no more than truthful Then he said ‘1 fua l.tjvd Clive, and paused as if to ! know w i.i.-aie:* f had heard of him. 'Hu t... ho sure ! was astonished, but ; i q T v do.", eu my hat uud made him my ' best c untry bred bow ‘My lord.' 1 said, ‘we have heard, even m Northumberland, of Plassy ‘Coed! I went to India as a writer — k a miserable rrK.il driving writer Think rof that Wliat one man has done another fimy do Now, boy, 1 sail this day for L> liThere will be more fighting, a g it den! more fighting If you please y i shall go as a cadet with me But t I r. is no time to hesitate. I sail this flay Choose between the shop sweeping ami tiie musket. You will fight in the tanks at first, but if you behave well the sword will come after Choose —peace and money scraping at home like these etaug faced fat citizens.’ ho swept his band with lordly contempt, 'or fighting Paul poverty, and perhaps death abroad. Choose. ’ ‘1 humbly thank your lordship,’ I 6 aid. 1 will follow you if you will conde scend to take mo.’ "Then ho bade me go straight to Lime- Louse Pool, where I should find the ship at anchor I was to take a note to the Purser, who would give me an outfit. "Thus, my dear Drusilla, did I find my fortune and sail to foreign parts under as brave and great a captain as this country ever see. "Our voyage lasted eleven months. There were 300 raw recruits ou board, Mostly kidnaped or inveigled under false pretenses by crimps and the scoundrels of upping When they were first paraded tucy were as beggarly looking a lot as you %v °uld wish to see—ragged, dirty, imvti- n °us and foul mouthed. Yet in a couple °* months, by daily drill, by good food an ‘i sea air, by moderate rations of rum, by sound flogging, by the continual dis npline of the boatswain’s rope’s end and l bo sergeant’s rattan, the regimental sup bTjack and the ship’s cat-o’-nine-tail*, they became as promising soldiers as one would wish. As for me, 1 stood with them in the drill and did my best. Of course I could not expect his lordship to notice so humble a cadet as myself, but one evening, when we were near the end of our voyage, he sent for me and gave me a glass of wine, and kindly bade me be patient and of good cheer, because, he said, young gentlemen of merit and cour age would be sure to find opportunities for distinction. ” Raljph then went on to describe the life of a Soldier in India, and to tell me—but this I leave out for fear of being tedious— how he received his commission and how he got promotion It is sufficient to say that at the time he wrote, after six years of service, he held the commission of a captai n Nor was that all He had been able to render such signal service to a certain rajah, that this prince, who was not ungrateful, and hoped, besides, fo* more such service*.. look him one day into his treasure house and bade him help him self to all if he pleased “My dear.” he continued, “I knew not that the world contained so much troas ure Yet this rajah is but a petty prince, and his wealth is as nothing compared with that of many others. There were diamonds in bags, uncut, whose worth I knew not, and diamonds in rings, sword hamf'es and women’s gauds, there were rubies, emeralds, sapphires, turquoises, opals and all kinds of precious stories strung rudely on common string as if they were but pebbles There were also gold and silver vessels of all kinds, and there were casks full of gold coins I took out a handful I saw that many of them were ancient, with Greek characters, per haps left in this country by that great soldier Alexander When I had surveyed these wonders 1 thanked him and said that ! should not presume to take so much as a single gold coin from his treas ure, but that if it should please his high ness to offer me a present I should accept it with gratitude, provided it was not too costly lie laughed at these words, and when we came away 1 was so loaded with gold that I fancied myself already a rich man “Since this event it hath pleased Lord Clive to issue an order which prohibits officers from accepting henceforth any presents at all from the native princes. I cannot but feel grateful that the order was not issued before.my own good for tune. Doubtless hi excellency hath good reasons for this order, which places the military service at a disadvantage com pared with the writers, who have great opportunities of making fortunes; and I cannot but think that it is a more noble thing to win a fortune at the point of the sword than by such arts as are da£y prac ticed by the writers and civil servants of the company There are many English men. and many Frenchmen as well —but we are driving them out of the country— who have become rich in the military service of the Indian princes; yet I shall not exchange my present masters so long as the merchants —who think nothing of glory or of this country, yet a great deal of their dividends —perceive that it is for their safety, as we I* as for their credit, to extend their power, and 1 have a reason able hope that the good fortune which hath hitherto attended me may continue, so that I may return to my native coun try. If only in my old age, amply pro vided As regards the climate. I have as yet experienced no great inconvenience from the heat. The natives have learned to fear an Englishman, rather than to love him. which is. methinks. the thing we should most desire when we have to rule over people as ignorant of the Christian virtuos, although not barbarous, like the naked blacks, but a most Ingenious, dex terous and skillful people, and of subtle intellect, yet slothful of body, lovers of rest, deceivers regardless of truth, for ever scheming plots and contriving sub tleties. and more cruel to prisoners than the Spanish Inquisition. The best among them are followers of Mohammed, who make faithful servants and good soldiers. It is a country where the ambition and jealousy of princes are continually causing fresh wars to be undertaken, and where a European may lead a life of adventure to his heart’s content.” I was reading, as I have said, this letter aloud in presence of tnv two faithful friend!” ' Now when I spoke of the drill on board, and the sergeant’s rattan, and the regimental supplejack, the fugleman drew himself upright and shouldered the garden spade, because there was no pike at hand, and when 1 read of the bo's’n’o rope’s end. and the ship’s cat-o*-nine-toils. Sailor Nan cocked her hat and stood with feet apart and hands upon her hips, and began, but in a whisper, to murmur strange sea oaths; and when I read the account of the tight in which Ralph’s courage saved this grateful rajah —it was a most, dreadful battle, in which hundreds of brave fellows and treacherous Hindoos were killed, so that to read it made one’s heart cease to beat—the fugleman, car ried beyoud himseV, executed capers with Executed capers the spade. the spade which signified little to my ig norant eyes, but which were, I beli-ve, the movements with which the trained soldier attacks with the bayonet, and the old sailor with a mop stick cut down her thousands, mighty curses rolling softly from her lips like distant thunder. If the beginning of the letter was de lightful, judge how beautiful was the end. *‘l have now, my dear, told you all that concerns myself I suppose yon have long since left W ark worth and gone to live with your parents, to whom I beg to convey my respects and best wishes If. among your rich friends and the gayeties of the fashion—the ’gayeties!’ —you have found lovers (as to be sure you must) and a husband, or one whom you have distinguished with vour favor and re gard. you will remember that I shall ever be to you as a brother, for. lover or brother. I can never cease to love” “A good lad!” said the fugleman. "As ever trod the deck!” said the sailor. “Go on. Miss Drnsy “And I am sure that vou have grown up as tall and as beautiful as an angel.” “She has.” said the fugleman. “Taller, ye lubber.” said the sailor, “and more beautiful an angel than ever I clapped eyes on. nor never a Peg nor a Poll at Sheemess or Deptford or the Com mon Hard to show a candle alongside of her What’s even a lrigate in full sail compared with a lovely woman?" This enthusiasm for the loveliness of her own sex (unusual in old women), I put down to her naval experiences, and famil iarity with sailor talk, and went on quickly; because, ir Ralph loved to flatter me. I ought not to let these people follow Ins example. An angel! But men are so. They cannot give enough, they lavish their praises, as they lavish the very fruits of their labors, upon the women they love. We women, measure our gifts —except to our boys. I pass over, there fore. the fond words of a lover about blue eyes and curly hair, and nymphs in cool grots, and soft smiles mid other imaginary gifts and graces, all of which my listeners applauded, nodding their heads. Gh! he could say what lie pleased, he could imag ine all the perfections, so that- he con tinued to tell me, as he did in this letter, how he thought of me dally, and loved me always mere and more. “As for the address of this letter.” he so,id, “1 know not where in London or elsewhere your father may now reside; therefore I forward it to tile care of the fugleman, with request that he will send it to you at the earliest opportunity, and by a safe hand. Will you. in return, in form him of my continued esteem and friendship?” “ ‘Esteem and friendship,’ ” repeated the fugleman. “This from a captain! Was ever such a boy?” “And if you find an opportunity, tell Sailor Nan that half her fortune has come true. ” She replied that at her time of life it was odd if she couldn’t tell the fortune of a boy, and as for the present cruise, it was bound to be a fair weather voyage. Finally, my brave lover begged mo to write to him and tell him all that had happened since his departure, and sub scribed himself, with much love, Ralph Embleton. When we had read the letter twice, which took us all the afternoon, and cost me three hours’ sewing, we took counsel together. First they were both for tell ing it about the town, and having a bon fire, with the ringing of the church bells in a triple bob major, but I was of opinion that it would be best to keep our own counsel for awhile. Therefore I bound them both to secrecy and silence. I would let Mathew alone and watch. He should not know anything, not even that Ralph was jdive and prosperous; and had I kept this resolution, because my two friends were loyal and secret as the grave, it would have been better in the end. fe- us all. and much better for Mathew. But, as the wise man said. “Death and Life are in the power of the tongue.” CHAPTER VII. MATHEW’S FRIEND).Y OFFER. This letter made me, from one of the most unhappy of girls, the most joyous. The immediate prospect of poverty —fur the dame declined daily—the hard work which began at daylight and ended at bedtime, the certain knowledge that Ma thew was not satisfied with a simple re IT.sal —these things, which had before filled my mind with terror, now appeared like the imaginary specters of the night, which cease to alarm when the day has dawned. To me.it was more than the dawn of day; it was the uprising of & glorious sun of love and hope. Ralph loved me. Ralph was well, prosperous and in high esteem. Ralph was already wealthy; Ralph would come, and ilt things would #•.> well, w’i term’ migir happen at the moment. Yet this I could not tell to any. Mathew was not to know; my poor old grandmother was too ,>lb n *w, and too failing of mind and body, to cars for earthly things; rfiy father had clean forgotten the boy; my mother would not. greatly care to know; nor would it soothe her anxieties to feel that we had a pro the tor separated from us by the rolling seas and by a voyage of ten months or more. What good would bo his far off treasures to us, she would have asked, when wimt we want is boot for the pot. and bread f r the board? As for my father’s madness, it increased every day, so that now our cottage was a palace indeed, every meal was a banquet, and the small beer of my brewing was champagne, port, Malaga, cr Imperial Tckay. But Mathew was too much with him, and it made me uneasy to .observe Low he complimented my father cn his wied&n. his resolution and his wonderful success. “In ail respects, madam.” he said to my mother, “I find your husband most sensi ble and full oi sound judgment. 1 have taken his counsel of late in many private matters of importance.” “Then the Lord help you!” said my mother, sharply. “What if he dees exaggerate his private fortune?” Mathew went on. “It is a fail ing with many persons concerned in traded’ “If you mean this in kindness, sir,” said my mother, “I thank you humbly for your good opinion of .my poor, distraught husband. If you mean it in mockery, you are a most cruel man. ” “Indeed, madam,” he replied, bowing, “pray believe that I mean it in kindness.” Ho had no kindness at all in his nature. He designed these words to cover his in iquitous purpose. So he continued to come and go, and to walk with my father In the garden, and whatever wild things my father said he would accept gravely as if they were in deed words of wisdom , No ono except myself suspected him of sinister designs, and my father disclosed to him the whole prodigious extent of his madness, so that I could have cried with shame ami bu miliatiou. Mathew knowing well, as all the world knew by this time, that he was little better than the poorest in the parish “The world, sir." the poor gentle man would say with a lofty air. “has yet to learn how great a benefactor a simple Loudon citizen may be There have been many benefactors 1 ocknowl edge their greatness But wait, sir, until my will is opened and read To you. friend Mathew. ! have bequeathed a poor £IO.OO0 —no more ” “Oh. sir!” He bowed and spread his hands. “This is indeed goodness “It is the duty of a rich citizen to dis cover merit and reward it—the plain duty. I am a London citizen, and .am perhaps more proud of this position than becomes a Christian The bulk of my fortune I have left to my daughter, whom 1 design in marriage for some great nobleman. But I have not forgot tea the poor of my native parish. Mathew—no, no, and you will find, when my will is read, that, sebools, hospitals, marriage portions for the girls, and apprentice money for the boys, will attest my remembrance of this place. ” “Sir,” said Mathew, with a grin of con tent, “you will be a benefactor indeed." Now, before i answered Ralph's letter, which 1 kept for more than a month in my bosom, reading it every day when l could snatch a moment. Mathew came to me, and after a little preamble, of which 1 am going to tell you, reopened the dis tasteful subject of courtship. I was in the garden, gathering herbs for a mint julep, when I saw him standing at the garden gate. He looked so jocund, he smiled so pleasantly, and he wore so self satisfied an air. that I was quite certain some evil thing had happened “Drusilla." he said. “I have heard cer tain intelligence. You may depend upon ; its truth, which is confirmed in every par i ticular I think that you should be t.ho first to hear of it. sad though it be, yet what I could net but expect.” “1 suppose,” I said with a laugh, be cause 1 knew that he was about to invent some wicked falsehood, “I suppose you have got something to tell me about Ralph, whom your cruel conduct, drove out into the world?” “Nay,” he replied, looking darkly, yet with a smile, “you may say what you please; you cannot offend me. I have just cotnc from Alnwick, where I sold four fat beasts At the inn 1 fell in with a stroll ing player, and talked with him over a glass about his wandering life. Presently I asked him whether he had seen any where upon his travels, especially in places where actors like himself, with profligates and thieves resort, such a lad as Ralph. It is wonderful to relate that ho remembered seeing the boy at a place called Grantham. It was about six or seven years ago. The reprobate lad was making love —to a young actress. When my informant came across the party again Ralph had left them.” At first I concluded that this wns sheer fabrication, but afterward gleaned that it was to a certain extent true; that is. that Ralph had made the acquaintance of the actress and her family on his way to Lon don; but there was no love making How could there be. when lie was already in love witji me? And what follows was pure and clumsy invention. “Ho wandered about with them playing and acting.” Mathew went on, “tor four or five years. Then he deserted them, or was turned out in disgrace—it matt rs not which —and, I am ashamed to say but he looked delighted—“took to iko road, where he is now known everywhere as Black Ralph or Bloody Ralph. ” “Are you quite sure of what you say?” ‘ ‘As sure as 1 am that he will be hanged as soon as he i3 caught. ” I know not by what reasons flat hew persuaded himself, if indeed he did per suade himself, that Black Ralph, who was a notorious highwayman about this time, and practiced his wicked calling on the York road, was Ralph Embieton. Yet lie made so certain of it that ho told—under strict promise of secrecy—the barber, who i told everybody, also under promise of 1 secrecy, and it was noised abroad that the 1 distinction of giving birth to the most , bloodthirsty villain in England belonged : to Waris worth, and many people advised • Mathew to go armed and to provide his l house with a loaned blunderbuss, a bull dog and a for/ man traps, because his cousin would probably visit him with in tent to murder as well as rob. “I suppose,” Mathew went on to me, j “that yen will now give up thinking of that young vag bond. A pretty girl like i you should throw your thoughts higher. Why. though your father’s a beggar, as on- may say”- “He is not a beggar so long as my grand mother lives.” “Perhaps that will not be much longer,” ho replied with an ugly grin. “Now. Drasilla. listen to me. You know that I’ve set my fancy upon you. I've been waiting just till you grew up, and then i for—for one or two little things to ripen ; which have now ripened and turned out j pretty well. How that everything is ready, there is no reason to wait any i longer. Ralph being a highwayman and certain to be hanged” “Then, Mathew,” I replied. “I will wait until Ro is hanged, and then you can talk to me again if. you like. Now, go away, and leave mo to my work. ” Ho went away for the time, and next morning his sister Barbara came. She was at ‘first mysterious about sudden changes of fortune, unexpected reverses, and the judgments of angered heaven. These things i did not then consider as pertaining to myself, because I knew not bow I had especially angered Leaven, more, that is, than thoughtless youth may do at any time, and yet obtain for giveness by daily prayer. She also added a certain exhortation to kiss the rod. which I pass over. Then she launched into praises of her brother. He wa,s most industrious, she said; up early and to work before daybreak; he was full of re ligion, which surprised me very much to hear, he was thrifty and had already saved a large sum of money —this. I found afterward, was false; he could provide a comfortable home, and liappy, indeed. she added, would be the woman on whom bis choice should fall. Added to this that he was no longer young and scatter j brained, but arrived at the sober age of i three or four-and-thirty; and that ; Mathew's wife would have the advantage of her own society, help, example and admonition. 1 told her that Mathew had got his answer, and that I thought it hard that a woman could not be Supposed to know her own mind in so important a matter. “\Vhat is your answer, then?” she asked. “1 will t-aik to Mathew on the subject again,” l replied, “when Ralph is hanged, since this is a thing which both you and he desire so vehemently.’* Two days afterward Mathew himself met me as l was on my way to the castle. He begged me to give him another hear ing. and. as 1 could not refuse so simple a thing. 1 led him by the path below the castle to the bank of the river, where he could talk at bis ease and unheard. First it was the same story. Would I forget the young villain and marry him? ile was so much in love wires me, that ho would not say sis some men—not so rich, mind you, as himself —would say, that I might go hang myself in my garters for aught he cared. lie would torgivo nsy disrespect and impudence; he would for get the past altogether; people should see that he was of a truly noble aiid forgiving disposition; he would give me another chance, so great was his generosity. cry well. then. v\ ould I marry him? I replied very gravely, that he had al ready received his answer. When Ralph was hanged, and not before, I would listen to him. Then 1 asked him seriously why he thought so meanly of me as to try this trumped up story about play actors and highwaymen upon me, and reminded him of what a truly wicked disposition ho must be. thus to glory and delight in the supposed wickedness of his cousin, whose guardian lie had been, and whose lands he now occupied He grew angry at this plain speaking, and began to swear, as is the v/ont of such men. If kindness would net move me, he said, something eisc should bo tried. I thought 1 was free and independ ent of him, did I? I should see what [lower was in his hands, and what mis chief he could do me. I was young and imprudent. It chafed me to hear that he, and such a man as he, could do me harm —as if the meanest wretch who ever lived cannot do harm—and I told him what I ought to have kept a secret, that so long as Ralph lived I should not want a pro tector. and that, so far from his being a highwayman, 1 knew' certainly that lie •vas a prosperous gentleman, already held in great honor, and respected by all. He was so staggered by this intelli gence that I thought he was going to have some kind of fit. Consider how much it meant to him; he would certainly have to give up the mill, and to render a strict account of all his doings; he would be reduced to the station of a poor small farmer; he would be robbed of his re venge; and he would bo convicted as a slanderer and caluminous person, if that mattered aught. First he blustered and threatened. I dared, did l, to reproach him; very good, 1 should see what things he could do; I should laugh the other side of ray mouth. Did 1 refuse this oiler? Very well, then. I should find out what his displeasure a>? rY'kir**- *kY. y> *''v A h c£?h ,•;> ,; -I f&k '■( l . 4 fcf-> -,.; ®'.. -^V#- - —\ >Ujg&HsV --y" "Mt- feis-ias 4> '• S <J> fpr ■* \ Fir.-t h • blustered and threatened. meant. And. perhaps, before long. I y hoiiid be sorry for tho Insult 1 liaci of f.-red him and the proposal I had refused. Ho then hung away, becoming at this j „ point Y.poeckkvs, and indeed* ho looked go j aug. y that 1 was afraid he would have thrown me into the stream. 1 went, home, mad said nothing*to any body about the business; but. 1 was troubled in my mind, and greatly afraid that the man would do some dreadful mis chief if lie could. Well, he came again a third time to me. It was three, days later. If I was dis quieted. I could see that he was more so. His red cheeks were become pale, and his eyes wcv red. He was rp.net in his man ner, and hold out 1 is hand. | LH'llbiiiit. ’ he said., “I was wrong the : other day.' You won’t marry mo? \ cry ; well, then. Never mind; some one else ! will, if l want. What matters one wo man mere than another, if you come to think about it? What hurt me most wasn't your refusal, which I don't care for I not one brass farthing but. yon saying | that r* wanted Italph to go bad. That j was cruel to such a cousin and guardian ! r.s 1 was to that boy." I •‘Well, Mathew," I said, “if I was | wrong, 1 pray you to forgive me." “1 should like to know, on the contrary, that he was lscorning a credit to his fam ily I sav," he added, "I should like to kn, • it. if you can assure me of tho fact." ••Then you may depend upon the truth of my statement, Mathew," f said. “lie is already a credit to your family.” “How joyful a thing this is!”- He folded his hands and raised his eyes hypo critically to heaven. “It shows that the | many corrections I gave him produced their effect. 1 was a throwing of the bread upon the waters. After many days, as one may say, it hath come back to me." He spoke with a sweetness which did not deceive me. “And this prosperity, Drusilla. Who told you of it?" “That I must not say." “Where, in what place, is the boy?” “That I shall not tell you.” “How is he employed, then?” “1 must r.av nothing. Mathew. Do not ask me. It is very certain that Ralph is alive, and that he is prospering. I shall answer no more questions.” “I will ask other people then. ” “It is of no use,” I said hurriedly. “There is no one knows except me.” This was not true, but at the moment 1 was thinking of my mother, who certainly did not know. “No one knows except you?” he re peated. “That is strange indeed. ” “It is very strange.” “And how long,” he went on, “is the mystery to be kept up?” “As long,” I replied, “as your cousin pleases. ” Then liis sweetness left him, and he fell again into a madness of wrath. Ho went away, however, when he found that I would tell him nothing. TO HE CONTINUED. YOUR EAKS Ought to have attention perhaps. If so, B. B. B. will do you good, removing all ignorant matter, the direct cause of deafness. Witness the following testi monies: comm HEAR A TICK CRAWL. Mr. C. E. Hall wrote from Shelby. Ala., Febuary 9, 1887: “I could not hear it thunder. I heard of B. B. *.. us*! two bottles, and now can hear a tick crawl in the leaves. —f “l GAVE UP TO I)IK.'" Knoxville, Tenn., July 2, 1887 I had catarrh of the head tor six years? I went to a noted doctor and he eatod me for it, out could not cure me. ! * said. 1 was over fifty years old and gav" up to die. I had a distressing cough: my eyes were swollen and I am confident S could not have lived without a change. I sent and got one bottle of your medicine, used it, and fell better. Then l got fou - more, and thank God! it eu**ed me. Isc this any way you may wish for the g > >d of sufferers. Mils. Matilda Xu a ls, 22 Florida Street. A PREACHER CURED OF DYSPEPSIA. Miccosukee, Fla.,Leon Cos., July 20, ’B6. I have been a sufferer from indigestion and dyspepsia for a long time, and have tried many remedies, but until 1 was in duced by my friends to try your B. B. B. received no relief, but since using it have found more relief and comfort than from any other treatment I have used. Hop ing you will forward to m.y address your little 32-page book for prescription, also evidence of cures. Send at earliest date. Rev. Rob’t C. A BOOK OF WONDERS, FREE. All who desire full information about the cause and cure of Blood Poisons, Scrofula and SfcrofnlouvSvvellings, Ulcers, Sores, Rheumatism, Kidney Complaints, Catarrh, etc., can secure by mail, free, a copy of our 32-page Illustrated Book of Wonders, filled with the most wonderful and startling proof ever before known. Address, Blood Balm Cos., 9 G-lm Atlanta, Ga. Calender and Weather Fore casts for 1889, by Rev. lrl R. Hicks, with explanations of the ‘‘Great Jovian Period,” mailed to any address, on receipt of a two cent postage stamp. Writy.plainly your X'aUie, Host Ottie and State. The 1)k. J. H. McLean Medicine Go., St. Louis, Mo. Dy-popsia, Despair, Death. These are the actual steps which follow indigestion. Acker’s Enghsh Dyspepsia I'aoJets will both check and cure this most fearful of diseases. Guaranteed by J. it. Wikle & Cos. eow Incases of Fever and Ague, the blood is as effectually, though not so danger-, ousl.v poisoned by toe effluvium oi the atmosphere as it could be by tie* dead liest poison. Dr. el. H. McLean s Chills and Fever Cure will eradicate this poi son from the system. 50 cents a bottle. b 6-dm You will have no use for spectacles if you use Dr. J. H. McLean s S{r i “-.I hon ing TJye Salve; it removes the film and scum which accumulates on the yvebails, subdues inflammation.-cools and soothes the irritated nerves, strengthens weak and tailing sight, hoc. ;i box. 0 Exposure to rough weather, getting wot, living in damp localities, are favora ble to the con traction of diseases of the kidneys and bladder. Asa preventive, and for the cure of all kidney and liver trouble, use that valuable remedy, Dr. J. H. McLean’s Liver and Kidney- Balm SI.OO per bottie. G-8-3m If you suffer pricking pains on moving the eyes, or cannot bear bright light, ami find .vonr sight weak and failing, you should promptly use Dr. A . H. McLean’s Strengthening Eye Salve. 25 e ats a box. ' 0-8-3 m to the Consumers of Oils. We handle all kinds of lubricating and machinery oils, and are manufacturers’ agents and can offer sped a inducements in this lim , 'Tiber by the gallon or barrel, Very respectfully, / J. R- WIKLE & CO. Tlieir Uu.-i es BoouiiDK. Probably no one thing has caused such a general revhal of trade at Wikle's Drug Store s their giving away to their custo mers of so many free trial bottles of Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consumption. Their trade is simply enormous in this very va cable article from the fact that it always cures and never disappoints. Coughs, Colds, Asthma,Bronchitis, t roup, and all throat and lung diseases quickly cured. Toucan test it before buying by getting a trial bottle free, large size sl. Every bottle warranted. 3 3s Consumption Incurable? Read the following: Mr. F A. Morris, Newark, Ark., says: “ A”as down with Abscess of Lungs, and friends and phy sicians pronounced me an Incurable Con sumptive. Began taking Dr. Kings New Discovery for Consumption, am now on my third bottle, and able to oversee the worn on my farm. It is the finest medi cine ever made.” 5 Hurrah for Cleveland and Thurmanj Bandana handkerchiefs at 50 and 25 cents at Schema- Bros.