DRIFTING.
BY GEOBOIA MILLAKDE AMBIUDOE.
Once a tiny acorn fell
From its parent tree,
Fell—was buried in the earth,
Hid from you and me.
Tears rolled bv, that acorn grew
Tall and strong and free ;
Grow, until its branches wide
Sheltered you and mo.
Other trees bad crowded round,
Every hind of tree,
But no other monarch was
So loved by you r.u.1 me.
Tears passed on. their and place— other years
Came to take
Tears that brought grave lines of care
To my playmate s face.
Till at last the woodman's as
Felled that tree one day.
And upon tno river's breast
It drifted tar away.
Drifted in the suusot light—
J rifted heath the laoon;
Drift, d toward the rising sun—
Drifted all too scon.
But it held a given course,
Guided secretly;
As outlives nave spent themselves,
Drifting quietly.
Drifting—ves, we say ’tis so;
But a. mystic hand
Guides our footsteps tenderly
To a happier litud.
Like the tiny acorn’s fall,
Varied growth and lito,
Our existence is, till death
Ends each petty strife.
A MODERN
MAGDALEN.
BY M C. FARLEY.
chapter i.
BYWATZU PARK.
Mfi i ’ ES, Hazard,”
j Madam Dundas
/ is saying; “it is all
L very good of yon
fl ll to speak in de¬
fense of the ab
* But
sent. you
y fT( l c breath only waste when your
you
champion the
cause of that ras¬
^|F cally nephew of
mine, Fred Bol¬
ton. You don’t
know him as I know him. He is a
scamp of the first water.”
“I know he’s old and poor,” says
Hazard.
“What if he is old? That’s nothing. old
Given time enough—you’d his be
yourself, Hazard. And as to pov
ery—whose fault is it that lie is
poor? He’s already squandered two
fortunes, and for all I will do to pre¬
vent it, he may end his days in the
.alms-house. I hone he will.”
Captain Hazard smiles at tlie old
lady’s vehemence. Her blaek-mittened
hands gesticulate with energy, and in
her excitement her lace cap has bobbed
kalf off her head, where it now liangs
in an awry twist that is ludicrous,
f “Oh, pray, don’t excite yourself, aunt,”
lavsHuzard; “your capstriugs are all
Jna flutter. By rights I should be a
teoman, that T might adjust such little
(natters of dress for you. But you see
the disadvantages under which I labor.
I am useless—even ns an accessory to
the toilet-room.” Madam ‘Dundas
smiles indulgently. The Captain js a
prime favorite with her, and lias been
for stands years. the Then table she rings close VpM(MHpi the by her bell side, that
on
and a maid enters.
“Put my cap straight, and make me
presentable, quickly ” commands and deftly the makes autocrat. tho
The mai l
necessary changes, pulls the mittens
well up ‘on the skinny arms, adjusts
the awry cap, and disappears as silently
as she has come.
Madam Dundas is very old, very rich,
and very whimsical, and, alas! very
much accustomed to having her own
way. again to the Captain,
She turns a
tall, thin gentleman in an undress uni¬
form
“Did I understand you to say that
BoP on has a daughter ?”
Hazard nodded.
“How do you know?”
“Campion knows them both; lived in
the same house with them at one time,
aud got to be well acquainted. The
girl is bright, but uneducated, and
with little or no taste in dress. He says
she is dark as a savage, and yet wears
tints that should only be worn by
blondes.”
“That is unpardonable,” remarks the
old lady, with quiet sarcasm. “We
might overlook her lack of education,
and forgive the noverty. But bad taste
'
—never.
The Capt in shrugged hi 3 shoulders,
“I do not understand your reasons
for espousing my nephew’s cause, ” says
’ Madam Dundas peevishly.
“No more do 1.”
“Unless it is from sheer perversity,
You were always on the opposite side,
let the matter be what it would.”
This is true enough. The Captain,
who admit 5 that he is hit, winces and
makes a grimace. reconciled
“And were I to become to
toy nephew, what is to hinder me from
cutting vou off w thout a penny, and
leaving all the money to his daughter?”
“Nothing.”
goodness, I never will—I am likely ’ to
give them my property ?”
“Yes! but i don’t‘think you would
really be so unkind to me as that. 1 am
certain a strav thousand or two would
fall to my share, for vou are not ada
mant. no more than I. ”
"This is verv Mada’m trying, very trying, in
deed!” eavs Dundas fretf llv,
leaning her wkit$ head back on her
cushions. “At my time of life, Captain
Hazard, people should her, try to please an
old woman and soothe instead of
raising old and half-forgotten memories
of the past. I know that I have done
my duty bv Frederic Bolton. He was
low.’ alwavg a la’zv, imaginative, careless fel
I never saw his daughter—a lit
tie ~ guy, is vou the’reason say—and never the wish daugh- to.”
“It for that
L r is ^ ‘little guy' that I lay her case
before you, ” says Hazard, with deter-
TILE DEMOCRAT, CRAWFORDVILLE, GEORGIA,
| ruination. “The girl is so young that
she may yet be taught; and I know
that in your secret heart you feel the
want of yom)g society. She would
make an excellent companion for you,
while your means—your patronage
will give her such a start in life as she
otherwise will never receive. I don’t
ask you to leave the girl your money
in fact, do not wish you to do that. The
money is promised me, you know. But
give her a chance, give her a chance.
That’s all I ask; and if she proves
worthy, then open your heart and obey
A
mu ■I**,
mtmmi
“Tie is a scamp of the first irater."
its promptings. In case yon should
cut me off w.thout a cent, 1 would bear
it. Believe me, 1 am not quite a help¬
less banger on to the apron-strings of
char ty. ”
Madam puts her withered hand af¬
fectionately on tho Captaiu’s shoulder
“Years and years ago, Captain, I told
you that I had made you my heir.
With the exception of my graceless
nephew and his daughter, you are the
only relative 1 have in the world, and
would naturally inherit my money—in
case I die without a will—but for them.
But my will is made. They can not
inherit under its provisions. That is
settled. ”
The Captain limps up and down the
luxurious room—ho had served iu the
late war with credit to himself and his
country, and now carries a wounded
limb as a memento of one of tho hot¬
test battles fought during the rebellion
—then ho says thoughtfully: "There is
no use denying that I have expected to
come into the property at some time or
other, nor that I am not unselfish
enough to wish it otherwise. Still, the
girl has claims upon you, and for her
sake the claims should he recognized in
some manner.”
Madam shuts her eyes tightly,
reaches out for the hell, gives it a sharp
pull, and says in the old, peevish
tone:
“I protest against it; hut to please
you, Captain, a letter shall be dis¬
patched to-day, inviting her to make
her home at Bywater Park. But re¬
member, it is your doing, not mine. ”
CHAPTER II
FATHER AND DAUGHTER.
it w,
f
0 7
iL 9
V
i
r*m T has been,
y§ it is, a nasty
week. For
days rain
jfPiiJ has fallen
steadily. In
the city
streets the
mud is an
kle deep. The gutters run miniature
torrents, and still the rain comes down
with no perceptible indication of any
let.-up of the steady down-pour. of the third
To the solitary occupant
floor back bed-room, the unceasing
tinkle of tho water as it plashes agfiinst
the window pianos, and trickles in a
noisy flood down into the tin vater
pipes, is fast growing unbearable. Mr.
Frederic Bolton glances impatiently
up from his book.
He is five-and-forty, if a day; lie has
a pale, refined face, a pair of large blue
eyes, and a straggling blonde beard,
worn in the English fashion, on either
) side of a round and receding chin la
person, he i3 apparently of medium
height, inclined to slenderness, liis
manners are those of a gentleman. But
the low, drawling voice and his air of
condescension seem totally at variance
with the grim poverty of his surround
ings. The carprnt upon which he sits
is ragged, and darned in many places. ;
In one coiner stands a make-believe
piano, that deceives nobody as to what
its actual nee is. Indeed, as if to make
“assurance doubly sure,” the corner of j
a sheet protruding from a crevice in
the side of the instrument whatseems indicates the j
fact plainly by enough, is in that reality Bed to
be a piano day a at
night. The holin' A shades are pushed i
well up to admit the scanty light which ,
and a low rocker, with a woman’s shawl
trading across tlie back of it, stands
close by the table.
Mr. Bolton again glances impatiently
from his book—he is reading Ouida’s
“Wancla"—aud look out on the smoking
chimneys, tire black Louse tops, and
the lowering sky. ejaculates angrily, flirt- ;
"Pouf, ' he
ing his fingers at the dismal prospect
without, and mentally cursing that
within.
"What beastly weath-r. If it needs
must rain, then why doesn’t it rain and
be done with it. This infernal drip
and drizzle ail day long, all nightlong,
for nobody know., how many days and
nights together, is enough to drive a
maD distracted ” With this philippic
against the unruly elements without,
be pushes his chair a tritle nearer the
fire, puts his slippered feet upon the
fender, and, drawing his tattered dress
ing-gown more closely about his attenu- novel
ated figure, gives attention to the
in his hand.
The book itself is a well-worn copy,
and shows the marks of hard usage as
well as these of the circulating library
from which it evidently comes.
Now, to ho a patron of the circulat¬
ing ficial library might argue, to the fastidious super¬
observer, a not too
taste on the part of Mr. Bolton.
Whereas, facts establish the contrary
to be tlie case. As a rich man’s son,
Mr. Bolton had inherited money. And
as a rich man’s son he began life with
no other idea of the value of money
ihau Neither that of its purchasing natural power. in li
by training or either
nation had lie a capacity for ac
juiring richei or for husbanding the
rll Ther!doi?pandering solely to in a taste
for that which is most pleasant 1 fe
—and shrinking all responsibilities,
whatever they might be—brings Mr
Bolton at last to the third-floor hack
bed-room, where wo now find and intro
duce him to notice.
Moreover, the present condition of his
finances is such that he can ill ail' rd to
question too closely the source from
which his supply of mental pabulum
proceeds. Desperate as his affairs arP,
it is not his disposition to brace his
shoulders for a struggle with the cur
rent. His philosophy has tanght him
a different method, and he. drifts—
slowly river. it may be, but surely—down the
Ho murmurs little at the ups and
lar uneasiness over tho necessities of
to morrow. "Take the world easy,” is
rapidly, and Mr. Bolton quite forgets
the fact that the temperature of the
room is growing too low for comfort,
until suddenlv reminded of it by the
chill that creeps up his spinal column,
reaching He pauses in the his reading, shivers, and
for poker, gives the tire a
ctsn rs x
poker down again, a light tap is heard
at the door, and a moment later a tall
girl enters the room. A rubber coat,
from which the water trickles m little
rivulets, envelopes her figure from
head to heel.
“Back again, Loo,” exclaims Mr. Bol
ton in astonishment. “Why, __ T1 _ I did not ,
look for your return for two good hours
yet.”
“it rains so,” says Loo, half apolo
C a titr?”“ aUd Ul<i f ° lkS W6re StU1>id
and s
She has removed tho swaddling
cloak while speaking, and now hangs
it on the wall. Divesting her feet of
tho overshoes, she sits down in tho
rocker by tho table. In a momentary
spasm of weakness, nineteen years be
fore, Frederic Dolton had yielded to
tomptation and married a prettv little
country girl, as innocent as she was
pretty. He had hardly had time to do
cide in his own mind whether he most
leaving her affection. a daughter Loo as the this sole child. token of
was
“Then you did not enjoy yourself ?”
says Bolton presently.
“I was overlooked; made to feel that
I was with the people, but not of
them. I will not voluntarily'expose
myself to a repetition of that kind
Toiin ”
“Nevermind. It is past; let it go.
folly,” To recall anything that returning lias happened is
says Bolton, to his
novel again. “1 thought-I really did
—that l oo Bolton could hold her
ow a with the best of them; tho up
starts. ”
“And so I can,” Loo cries indig¬
nantly.
“Well, then don’t complain.”
Loo, Big-eyed and pale-faced, looks
almost contemptuously at her worthy
parent. She puts her hand in her
pocket, takes without a parcel therefrom, and
tosses it further ado toward
Bolton. “Tho postman gave me a let¬
ter, and as 1 came up, I found tho
maid standing outside the door with tho
weekly bill.”
Mr. Bolton hates hills, or he would
hate them could his careless, ease
loving disposition feol as strong and
positive an emotion as that of hatred.
As it is, and to put tho case mildly, iie
is constitutionally opposed to anything
that cash savors of separation with any of
his in hand.
Bo, Mr. Dolton apparently bill, examines roost in
tevested in the weekly
that first, giving it the closest atten
tion.
Mr. Bolton had discovered m the
course of his various peregrinations
that it takes a certain amount of ready
cash to procure even the discomforts of
a third-rate lodging house, and experi
ence had taught him that it behooved
him to keep an eye on the weekly uc
count.
So lie now scanned with a critical
air the items set forth opposite the col
unin of figures. Evidently the items
tally with the figures, for even the
captious Mr. Bolton puts the bill down
at last on the table without making any
erasures.
He groans, and beats the “Devil’s
Tattoo” with his fingers. “I suppose
it is all correct,” says he at last. “Loo,
get out the money. You’ll find it in
the pocket of my dress-coat.”
Mr. Bolton groans agafn as he fishes
out the amount required by his land
ladv
Where more money is to come from
when his depleted exchequer shall that g .
out entirely, is a conundrum he
does not try to solve at present.
To think about it is to anticipate
trouble. Tli a lie declines to do.
Mr. Bolton ne.er anticipates pin¬
thing save his creditor “We’re getting
down to the bottom dollar, Loo,” -ays
her father after a hit, as he co item
plates the few notes remaining in the
purse. “And when we spend the Lot
tom dollar. I’ll have to blow my brains
out with a pistol. I can’t live without
money.” ]
[TO BE COSTISCEP
basket A waif .—Cincinnati from home—the bal<j in the
Ttltgram.
THE HOUSEWIFE.
VJ
BMt IFFY THE BED.
On a Ve il h.: sod in accordanco with
the most u !leru ideas there is, accord¬
ing to tl’ ! me Maker, no use for pil¬
low shat If money is no object ona
can ord odspread with a wide bor
der of o ,o plush and with a center
of satin i»alor shade of the same
color. 'a ; aj£st tho plu-h may bo
an embr pattern of poppies with
leaves aw W. In the center of tho
square n to a shield outlined with
black roj ilk. Within the shield,
upon t j uv \ t hi* description is
takeu the *’ ‘l»ree he lower is filled ^cupying with
upper pr.
apple bio—i V without leaves. The
embroider. ov ih ih border and center
' .... s satin -til In place of pillows is
a round bolder, covered with satin,
gathered at each cud and tied with a
heavy cord .|ul tassels, A band of
hem' ’ « ith embroidery, eucir
cles the bo near each end.
TIIE " ....... " X V OF BIIKAD MAKINO.
: — 1 ho , tho heat , . baking .
causes certain actio p to take m place m
iptnges
the starch, by \ . ch it is rendered sol
another ”“«• -* substance *» 4* resembling •*“ and
gum,
known as dexirio. Tho outside of tho
mg f the ■■ *"•"*>|*•' crust. 1 hc>o changes have tho
effect of rendering tho bread both mi
tuitions aud |,a’4*blo; but to prevent it
, becoming^a . heavl, , . j sohu mass of - dried
dough, it must lit “raised” or inflated
with gas, so as if convert it into light,
—«« *» - •» ^
masticated nad di led, ihe gas used
for this purposo is J always carbonic di¬
osiJ nnil thc bes melho j to develop
it in thc mass of dough is to set up a
vinous or alcohol--fermentation by tho
addition of veast. This substance is a
most , romarkabl , ,, ” , ! ! 'fe r 0i ,LUsm . ' whl,:h , . .
when introduced into tho dough,
begins to feed up. u the lurch, which
^ changes into dcuhol and carbonic
nc ‘d gas. Owing to tho tena
cious nature of tin lough, tho gas cun
not escaiio, but as expands, renders it
spongy and , light , , ,,,, 1 ho heat . of - tho
baking oven still lather expands the
„ ll3 and c0ln ,,le: \tiie process, at tho
samc tlmo .. klUl , “K . . alld , r t0V(:at . . -
ing further ferruci tation. If tho fer
mentation cout;^:;i*s, too long 4 it passes
.....
is changed to vit Af Ar and tho bie.id
'“sours.” The nk'diol produced in the
'
* „ is nu . ir , y > diss.pated in tho
(baking; . , but it . i; . lit appreciable . ,, quanti
ty, and some years ago a company was
formed in England to introduce appli
nncos for , condon , ing and , saving it.
The method was found impracticable,
hut it created considerable excitement,
and , one bak , , " r aavcd , ,s<id . to . 8<dl h ‘. • s
Broad “with . all tho gin in . it.”— Amefl¬
can Miller.
lUICll’ES.
Bean Salad.—String your beans,
break in half-incli pieces, cook soft in
salted water, drain, add finely chopped
onions, popper, salt and vinegar, when
cool add a small quantity of melted
butter.
Apple Custard.—One quart of sweet
milk, one tcacupful of sugar, one cup of
bread, g.'atcd; threo eggs, three or four
sweet apples pared and quartered. Put
in an earthen crock and Bake one hour.
Season with cinnamon or nutmeg or
grated orange peel.
Veal Cutlets.—Dip tho cutlets, one
inch thick, into beaten egg and then in
bread crumbs or crackers roiled line, and
fry in pork drippings, with a little But¬
ter added. After they begin cooking
cover, and, when a rich brown, turn,
then leave cover oil and salt them Be¬
fore you dip in egg. Fry till ‘lone. It
will take about twenty or thirty min
ules.
Pickled Eggs.—Ilard-boilcd eggs, if
put in vinegar, ii which red cabbage or
beets have been pickled, take on a tine
color. The vinegar should he heated
and poured over thorn. Iri serving, cut
a slice from one end, so that they will
stand, an l stick three or four cloves in
the top. In pickling beets, a slice of
onion aud a few cioves add much to tho
flavor.
Asparagus.—JLive the asparagus
fresh if porsible. Never use any that
has been standing in water; wash thor¬
oughly, and do not use that having a
hard skin. Cut into pieces one-half
inch long and boil until tender in a little
salted wafer. When nearly dry add
butter, pepper and salt to taste, Add
a little cream just before dishing, but
do not let It boil after a iding cream.
Stuffed Potatoes.—Bake large pota¬
toes and when done scoop out the in¬
sides and mash well with butter and
rn.lk; mix some finely minced cold
mr-at with the potatoes, adding salt and
pepper to taste; refill the skins with the
in xture, place on a tin and put a smalt
lumo of butter on ca h to prevent its
getting too dry; pu in the ovea until
hot. Serve ia a napkiu.
I ATHENS FOUNDRY
-^USUD
Machine Works*
J a. c 3?3ECE5I ! a-S f ■ C3r-A_.
--MANUFACTURERS OF-
Iron and BrasS Castings* Mill and in Machinery
Shafting, Pulleys, Hangers and Baxes,
Cotton Presses. Cane Mills and Evaporators
Cotton Seed Crushers, & circular baw Mills.
IS^We sell the Atlas Steam Enginen, Injectors, Jet
; Pumps, Valves, Piping and Steam Packings, Water Wheels
j and Belting Cloth.
REWRITE to us or call and se us for anything you may
need about your Engine, Mill or Gin.
Address: ATHENS FOUNDRY & MACHINE WORKS,
Athens, Ga
L. W. SIMS. O. S. BARNET f
m i H; imm U; T feiPf u! M
S3 h' 11 , fig 4
ii i'M •ft % -fe 1 oil
%m Mtl® Bt?«s IMtl
ARE TOUGH AND DURABLE.
All Hard Brick, per thousand, $6.00
Mixed “ “ “ 5-50
Salmon it a i i 5.00
F. O. B. at Yard. Send in rders at nee as our brick
are in great demand.
We Deal Sasii, Doors, Blinds, Lime,
Cement,Latlis, Shingles,
and Mouldings,
And All Xjiumbcr.
RTWii buy and sell LAN I) for fi per cent, commlssjon. Put your properly Ii
our hands and we will advertise it for sale. NO SALE, NO PAY.
SIMS & BARNETT,
WASHINGTON, i GA.
Real Etate Agents, anat Dealers in Builders' Material.
fi- . f * 1 • J 4..
Geo. R. Lombard & Co.
FOUNDRY, MACHINE & BORER
WOMBLS,—
Abovc i'uiisicngiT Depot, A.I.KUJSTA, C* EOIUIIA.
—SELL TIIE CHEAPEST AND BKST
MTj H | ENGINES & BOILEKS.
Complete (Jin and Mill outfits a Speelalety. Mill
anil Engineering Supplies,Cotton, Crain,Saw Mill and
tflU V, ■V Labor-saving Machinery, Shafting, Pulleys, Uniting,
i Saws, lnspirutors, injectors, etc.
I rSS^dLj£--‘ Large Stock to Select From.
Prices Low. Goods Guaranteed.
Write fur circulars. ’ ’“Dastings of every kind, and new work (light and heavy)
proiiiiitly dope. IE ' iiiitiit .South
/ 1 1 \T \\T i v I > I/ - New and Repairs, promptly and v.cll done. S--;r \V'he»
Vn 111 Uh lY you write to or cull on this firm men tion this 1‘Arn.R.
EL ML RBI®,
733 Reynolds Steet AUGUSTA, GA.
-DICAPICU IX--
Steam Krigines—Agricultural, I’ortaiil" mid Siotlunery. Sf'oun Hollers, Saw Mills’
Com ami Elom Mill ; EADLE DO I TON i.INS, the be-Un tin- world.
LITTLE Ul A NT UO'JTON PRESS -Hydraulic, tins b :-t N. U. Millstones.
Taylor M’fg (Jo's ;Saw Mills and Engines. Stamlaril Liftin ' and NoulUtiug *n
lector Boiler r eeders. REID,
Come and see me or write for what you want. II. N. Augusta, Oa.
You Will Be Welcome
--AT THE OLD
CENTRA X_- ECCTEII
BROAD ST. (Opposite Monument) AUOllSVA, CA
Rates, *2.00 Per Day. Goodwin v Go.. Pi oprP'tors
Jess© Thompson Sc Co
Mancf/.ctukeks Ok
| DOORS, SASH, BLINDS,
; Mouldings, S5rackets, I.alhs,
I Lumber and Shingles.
•DEALERS IN
j Window Glass and Builders’ Hardware,
;
j Plaining Mill and Lumber Yard, Ilale Street,
| CfJllt ill liuiload Y ard, AUGUSTA, GA,
j ear r
