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®hr fort (!Viinc si i to* f
JOSHUA JONES, PUBLISHER.
VOL. II.
A Quarrel Ended.
Sbe looked at him with quick surprise,
She looked at him with tear-brimmed eyes,
Her tight-closed hand motion shaped, '
no
No word her curling lips escaped ;
His eyes were bright, his voice wa3 clear;
Ho only said: "I love you, dear!”
Her eyes were deep with auger’s hue,
They softened into tender blue;
Tho haughty curve her lip forsook;
Hor hand lay open on her book:
Then as he spoko he drew more near,
And said again: “I love you, dear!”
Where sweet love dwells wrath eannot stay;
Her smile chased all tho tears away.
She looked at him : “Ah, do not fear,
I, too can say, “I love you, dear !”
His smile replied : “Our hearts are near.’’
His words were still: “I love you, dear!”
Ah! when the fire of anger but^ns,
And all life’s sweet to bitter turns;
When eyes are flashing, lips close sot,
.Prepared to storm and to regret;
Then, happy we if Greatlieart near,
Have strength to say: “I lovo you dear!”
—The American.
“Bid Me Good-by and Go,”
Characters—Mrs. Lidyard (28), Ted Clry
ton (35).
Time—5.30 p. m. Scene Mrs. Lidyard’s
drawing-room—curtins drawn—dimly light¬
ed. Mrs. Lidyard seated before tho Are gaz¬
ing into it with a paper open on her lap. She
starts violently as the clock strikes the half
Lour, and a ring is heard at the door bell.
SBe hastily picks up the paper, and is ab¬
sorbed in it as a maid announces Mr. Clay¬
ton.
Mrs- Lidyard (rising politely)—I
cannot help thinking you have given
yourself unnecessary trouble.
Clayton (stiffly)—I preferred being
quite sure no mistake was possible.
Mrs. Lidyard (with raised eyebrows)
—No mistake?
Clayton (hastily)—As to the safe re¬
turn of this packet I mean!
Mrs. Lidyard—O!
Clayton (coldly)—Did you manage
that—O, I assure you, your letter left
me no chance of misapprehension. It
was painfully clear
Mrs. Lidyard—I am glad; in that
case, I suppose——
Clayton—Precisely; there is noth¬
ing to be done but to return these
letters (handing parcel).
Mrs. Lidyard (holding out her
hand) —Thank you.
Clayton (frigidly)—Hadn’t you bet¬
ter see that you have the full comple¬
ment?
Mrs. Lidyard (deliberately untying
the string)—If you prefer it-
Clayton (angrily)—Eve!
Mrs. Lidyard (stops)—You sug¬
gested it
Clayton (still angry)—I have never
given you cause to-insult me.
Mrs. Lidyard, (with a shrug) —
Please don’t let us have a scene.
Clayton (furiously)—I have not the
slightest wish for anything of the
sort. Naturally it is your woman’s
privilege to break your word as often
as you choose.
Mrs. Lidyard (indig-nantly)—Ted!
.(Calming herself.) I break my word?
Excuse me, iu this case is that quite
correct?
Clayton (doggedly)—Absolutely—
Mrs. Lidyard—But—
Clayton—Oh, you mean I have
taken the initiative?
Mrs. Lidyard—I rather fancy——
Clayton—You made it impossible
for me to do anything else.
Mrs. Lidyard (quickly)—What do
yon mean?
Clayton (calmly)—For pity’s sake,
as you said just now, don’t let us have
a scone-
Mrs. Lidyard (turning away)—You
are quite right I don’t think there is
anything left but to say good-by 1
Clayton—I think not, unless it is
ior me to wish you happiness, and as
an old friend, I may, perhaps, be al
lowed to be a little beforehand with
my congratulations.
Mrs. Lidyard (looking at him in
surprise)— Your congratulations.
Clavton (in a studiously amiable
voice)—I could not well attend the
wedding even if I wished ; I start for
Paris tonight—
THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE IS THE SUPREME LAW.
FORT GAINES, GA., FRIDAY. FEBRUARY 21. 18915.
Mrs. Lidyard (biting her lips aud
dropping hor eyes)—Are you not
rather—
Clayton (still with a forced smile)
—Does it matter between us?
Mrs. Lidyard (still keeping her po¬
sition—Yes, as you say we are old
friends. I hardly care to remember
how long we have known each other.
It makes one feel quite archaic.
(Laughs.) ,
Clayton (laughs too,savagely)—You
had just come out of the school room
when I first went to Graymoors with
your brother.
Mrs. Lidyard (protesting)—Don’t
remind me of it. I was the uglyduck
liug—
Clayton (warmly)—You were one of
the sweetest, most girlish—
Mrs. Lidyard—I realize my Iformer
shortcomings. I had too much com¬
plexion too little style.
Clayton (bitterly)—London quickly
supplied the one, if it could not de¬
stroy the other. At nineteen you
made the match of the season.
Mrs. Lidyard (quietly)—Yes.
Claytou (hotly)—A mau old enough
to be your father and rich enough to
wipe out more tilings than that—
Mrs. Lidyard (quickly)—Ted! don’t
speak like that. You know he was
good to me always.
Clayton—I beg your pardon.
Mrs. Lidyard (quietly)—And after
all if I did marry him wasn’t it your
fault? Did you expect me to propose
to you myself?
Clayton (laughs—Of course, I had -
forgotten. It was a marriage of pique
with the additional penance of fifteen
thousand a year.
Mrs. Lidyard (rising quickly—We
had better say good-by—
Clayton—Yes—(not moving) and
this timo it will be good-by; tho moth
won’t flutter round the candle again.
I thought when you were free, you
wanted me to stay; and we drifted in¬
to an engagement which—
Mrs. Lidyard (quietly) — Which you
have broken.
Clayton (angrily)—Is there a man
alive who could stand it ? Do you
suppose I wanted to become a public
laughing-stock by waiting for you to
ask me to your wedding?
Mrs. Lidyard (demurely)—I don’t
think it would have occurred to me
to do that.
Clayton (not heeding her)—Natur¬
ally, you are perfectly free to choose,
only it’s a pity that you did not make
up your mind a little sooner as to Cap¬
tain Yereker!
Mrs. Lidyard (smiling)—And you
are so polite—to me.
Clayton—Well, at any rate,there is
an end; you have chosen—
Mrs. Lidyard—That is to say, you
ordered me to close my doors to Cap¬
tain Yereker and I—
Clayton (excitedly)—You wrote to
tell me there were circumstances that
made it impossible-
Mrs. Lidyard (excitedly also)—And
without further explanation you re¬
plied that our engagement was over,
Clayton (more excited)—Explana¬
tion! Women think they can explain
everything, and that men will believe
them. What explanation could there
be?
Mrs. Lidyard (passionately)—Only
this—that I don’t live here alone-
Clayton—Eve? What do you mean?
Mrs. Lidyard (catching up paper)
—Read that.
Clay ton (bewildered) — Why ?
(Glances at paper.) I d< n’o under—
(Stops.) What? (Reads aloud.) “A
marriage will shortly take place be¬
tween Miss Gladys Lidyard, niece of
the late Thomas Lidyard, of Wilt
shire and Grosvenor Place, and Cap
tain George Vereker of the Life
Guards. Miss Lidyard has been
spending the season with her uncle’s
widow in Grosvenor Place, and—”
(Stops.) O, Eva, what a fool I’ve
been!
Mrs. Lidyard (between a laugh and
a sob)—I never contradict.
Clayton (goes to her)—Darling, will
you forgive me?
Mrs. Lidyard (demurely)—What
about your trip to Paris?
Clayton (holding her in his arms)—
And to think that if I had not come—
Mrs. Lidyard (with calm superior
itv)—O, but I kuew you would, aud—
aud—Ted, shall I liavo to ask you to
my wedding?—Black and White.
Bicycle Knees mid Toes.
To tho ‘‘bicycle face” have boon
added tho “bicyclo neck,” tho “bicy¬
cle back,” the “bicycle knee” and the
“bicycle toes.”
Bicycling is ns yet in its infancy,
aud, although the existence of tho
strained, overwrought, nervous bicy¬
cle face has become so common that it
cannot bo denied, and the ostrich-liko
neck of the youthful scorcher is so
frequent ou the boulevard, tho bowed
back, the knock knees and pigeon toes
ar& matters of development in the
generations that are to come.
Physical development in any direc¬
tion is but a matter of use aud eon
stuut exercise of certain muscles.
Read your Darwin and see how your
ancestor scampered about on all fours,
gradually abandoning tho uso of his
fore legs as u means of locomotion
until ho walked erect on his hind legs.
Mile. Eugenio Petruseo, the con¬
tortionist, now in this country, shows
what training will do. From infancy
her father taught her to walk on her
hands, with her feet in the air. She
was brought up upside down. Today
she is more at home on her hands
than on her feet, and her thumbs have
grown long and hor hands arc shaped
like those of an ape.
Tho development of special physi¬
cal characteristics in cyclists of long
experience must be accepted as a
fact, not as strongly'marked now us
they will be, but still present. — New
York World.
Told by a Detective.
“I was disgusted a few days ago at
a case I worked up,” remarked a de¬
tective.
“A young lady who was possessed
of considerable money and a number
of jewels sent for me. She had been
robbed of some diamonds valued at
several hundred dollars. I finally
found all but one pin, they having
been pawned. I obtained a descrip¬
tion of the man who borrowed money
upon them, but for several weeks
could not locate him. When I did his
landlady said that he had left that
morning and was going to Baltimore.
I watched the depot und was soon re¬
warded by seeing the man step out of j
a hack. I seized his arm and said,
‘You are arrested.’ ‘What for?’ lie j 1
asked in atone that showed he was
not much surprised, but greatly
frightened. ‘That will bo explained
at the station,’I replied. There'was
feminine ... shriek , . , from . the ., , hack, , and, .
a
glancing into the hack I saw it was
my fair client. They had just been
married and were starting on their
wedding trip. I took iu the situation
at a glance, and then realizing that I
was powerless under the new order of
affairs, I said: ‘I see now that you are
not the man I want, and let him go.
Then he began to bluster, and taking
him aside, I gave him to understand
I knew of his robbing the girl to pay
the expenses of his courtship, and he
quieted down very suddenly. ” Wash
ington Star.
A Fighting Humming Bird.
There is a species of humming .
bird in Carrucca, East India, that is
about twice the size of a pigeon. It
is very vicious, and tho natives say it
subsists almost entirely upon a hard
shelled nut, which it breaks opeu
with a biow of its wings, all the while
humming loudly.
A Remarkable Horae.
“I lmd a horse.” saul an old army
man, ‘‘thnt belonged ouoo to tho
Seventh Cavalry, but ho had the *L0. ’
under his mane, so he was out
of service. Inspected and condemned.
Ho was a regular old plug, but ho was
all 1 could get to go hunting on, so I
took him. 1 rode away out into the
plains from tho fort, and I saw a
bunch of antelope. Finally, I got
off the horse and dropped tho reins
ou the ground, expecting tho horse to
stand there until I came back. I
started off toward tho antelope, and
was sneaking along to got a shot,
when I looked around, and I’ll be
blamed if that brute of a horse
hadn’t started off as tight ns ho could
lope.
« i «’ Well,’ says I, ‘I guess I’m iu for
a six-mile tramp home. J cursed that
horse to myself for a while and then I
went on. Pretty soon I looked up,
and I’m blessi ore wasn’t that
horse over on the other side of that
bunch of antelope. ‘Well, now,’ says
I, ‘I’d like to know wfiat ho thinks
he’s up to, anyhow.’ Pretty soon he
began to circle around ou the other
side, and the antelope saw him and
started toward me. I caught ou at
once, and I lay down tjnd waited. The
old horse cut up the most surprising
antics out there, and all tho time lie
kept working those untolope toward
me. By und by they got in ruiige,
and I got tw'o—good luck it was, too.
You see that horse was an old Indian
hunting pony and lie had been trained
to do that way. Well, I went back to
the post, and everybody wanted to
know how it happened I had such
good luck, but I didn’t toll them.
A few days days after I took that
same horse out utter prairie chickens.
It was the time of the year when iho
cliickons were Hying, and I was riding
along when all of a sudden the critter
stopped short, braced himself up and
waited—for what I didn’t know. But
in a second a couple of chickens How
up ahead of me, und I was so sur¬
prised I didn’t shoot. ‘Well,’ says I,
‘I’ll be switched. Here’s a horso
that’s not only a hunting horse, but is
a regular pointer dog, too.’ And he
was. I got my gun ready, and tho
next time he stopped I was right ou
hand and dropped n bird. Well, no
sooner did he see tho bird fall than ho
gallopped right off’ to where it fell,
and all I had to do was to reach off
and pick it up. He was a great horse,
I tell you, and I got lots of good
hunting with him.—Field and Farm.
born Belt Moving North.
A press dispatch from St. Paul
quotes Mr. S. S. Russell of North Da
kota as saying, at the immigration
convention, that the corn belt was
raoV ‘ n S northward, following tho civ
ilizatioa of the 8oiI b >' wheat Wbeafc
was a great civilizer of the soil,and its
effect was to prepare the soil for corn
v/bich accounted for the steady ad
vance of tho corn bolt toward the
\y (i suppose Mr. Russell uses tho
wor d “civilize” in an adapted sense,
though here at the east wo look upon
corn, potatoes, roots, etc., as prepar
erH of tho 80 ,i for wlieat an( j other
grains, the finer product availing it
self of the previously long-continued
working of the soil. It may be, how
evor> that at the west, in lack of regu
a j ur rotation, the wheat roots furnish
that mass of vegetable fiber on which
the corn delights to feed, and so tho
Jatter follows instead of precedes.—
Country Gentleman.
The Poet of Purity.
Crummer—That is the poet Lather
brush. He is a greut advocate of
purity!
Gilleland—Indeed 1 ! I dou’t ro
member seeing any of his work.
Crummer—You certainly must.. He
writes soap advertisements.—Chicago
Record.
ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM-
NO. T.
A Strange Story.
Good materiul for h novel raav be
found iu a tale which comes from
Hope, Stelle county, this state. Miss
Ellen Norman, living near there, was
engaged to he married to George
Thompson, a prosperous young far¬
mer, hut her parents were strongly op¬
posed to the mutch. In October, 1894,
the girl was taken ill: October 24 she
died, at least the doctors pronounced
her dead, after subjecting her to nu¬
merous tests. The funeral was set for •
October 25. The body was kept over
night in the Norman house. The
only watcher was Mr. Thompson,who
declared that he was not afraid of the
disease, whatever it was. It was due
to his watching that the young woman
is alive today.
Thompson removed the lid of tho
collin in order to gaze once more upon
the face of his fiancee. He was sur¬
prised to see the client of the body rise|in
the casket rise and fall in a spasmodic
way, as thougli the girl was gasping
for breath. lie wrapped the rigid
form in a blanket, carried it to his
house, returned to the Norman house,
made up a dummy and closed the cof
liu. This was buried.
After MisH Norman had been carried
to tho Thompson residence and a
doctor summoned who worked over
her for several hours, it became evi¬
dent that she was simply in a trance.
She remained delirious for several
days. As she became stronger all was
explained to her. About the middle
of December Miss Norman was spir¬
ited away from Hope by Dr. Mulian
and Mr. Thompson and since that
time she tins been traveling m tho
south and west,where she )ms fully re¬
gained her health.
The other day she returned to Hope •
as ihe bride of Thompson, the old
loiks were apprised of her being alive
and well, tho fatted calf and several
other farm animals were killed, and
they will doubtless live happily ever
afterward.--Bismarck, North Dakotu,
Tribune.
Corn Was New to The Duke.
Corn calls to mind tho Duke of
Marlborough’s first experience with
green corn on tho cob. The incident
was related by a gentleman who hap¬
pened to travel in the surne train with
the Duke the day he arrived iu New
York. Il was the Newport train.
Presently tho Duke went into the din¬
ing-car to get it hit of luncheon. It
happened to bo the green-corn season
and he noticed that nearly everybody
in tho car was eating the. corn from
tho cob. Ho had never seen anything
like it before, lie asked tho waiter
what it was, ordered a portion, and,
receiving it, bit into it as be would
bite into an apple. He had attempted
to bite into the cob aud had evidently
reC ° ivcd a8h ". clk “ to0 « reut ft * Wk to
try tho experiment again; for upon
being told that lie must spread butter
salt and pepper on the corn and bite
gently, be perversely took his fork
and patiently picked the kernels, one
by one from the cob.—Chicago Re¬
cord.
A King y si act.
Alphonso, ... King of Aragon, was one
^av examining the different articles in
blH Je ^ e,er 8 fibc T* 111 com P«»y Wlth
m,iny latl,eB °[ blH conrt ’ He had
8Car< ; f '‘ y ° 1 the h 01180 ' vhen the
,e Va " “®’ e er a “ I d ° 1H8e<1 raa , uft tt «r diamond bltn complaining of great.
.
° 1 * e 4 iefh Peking, not willing
publicly to disgrace any of his attend
ants, commanded a large basin full of
sand to be brought him, into which he
directed each person to put in the
hand clenched and to draw it out flat.
By this means the diamond was left in
the sand,unknown by whom.—Honse
hold Words.
The Potomac River is only 500
miles long, and in its lower course is
ruther an estuary than a stream.