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LIFE ’8 STORY.
BY OEOROE ELIOT,
®w« lovers by a moes trown spring;
Ilie/ leaned so.t cheeks together thera
Wiagled the dark and sunny hair, sinjjt
A*»a heard the wooing thrushes
O budding timet I
O love’s host prime
®wq 'file wended bulls from happv' the portal enroliuga, stept;
made
"The air was soft aw fanning w ngs,
Whil«|>etaU ou the O pure-eyed pathway bride! swept.
O tender bride I
9wo faces o’er a cradle bent; locked;
Two hands above the heal were rooked!
^These pressed each other while thev
These watched a life that love had sent
O solemn hour I
O hidden power 1
Two parents by the evening are:
The red light shone aoove their kneel,
hut all the heads by slow degrees,
Ikko buds upon the lily spire.
<) patient life!
O tender strife 1
The two itill sat together there;
The red light shone above their lrasea,
lint all the heads by Blow degrees
Had gone and left the lonely pair.
O voyage fasti
O vanished past!
The rod light shone above the floor.
And msa > the space between them wide;
They drew their chairs up side bi side; “Once
Their pale cheeks joined, and said,
■KUO?" (
O memories
Opast that is!
TOM
BRYSON’S CRUDE.
BY “THE MAJOR*
CHAPTER xxiy.
waATTinMnimvn UITINO keteai^b bct,.,™
These hvj words . are addrer 1 to Mr.
Belmont. 3 hoy are wr.tten m the si-
10*00 of the night, when l am alone
vith Him who judges us all. He
knows that I have no choice; that 1
must liy, like a thief in the night, from
tho dear woman who has been so kind
to mo, from the noble man whose love
would honor a queen, and which I
must now reject, once and forever.
The happiness that ho points mo to,
f oarinot take. There is a barrier iu
the wav that may not be cro*sed.
1 cannot boar the misery of saying a
last farewell to these two; nor can 1
bear that they should think me uu-
grateful, or even cold. Nor do I dare
to pour out my heart upon this insen¬
sate paper. I wdl in a few words tell
them why I must leave them forever.
1 would impioro them that they leave
me to go my sonowful way in peace;
that they will not strive to find rue.
But tho regret is needless They will
not wish—llaudall Belmont will not
vfiffb—to see me, to hear aught more ol
nu>, after this writing shall bo fully
read and comprehended. Bryson*,
Mjr true name is not Jessie
it is Edith Wendell. Ten years ago I
Jived with my parents in wealth and
luxury in a city. My recollection is
very distinct about it.
The snarling, morose laborer whom
yoa knew as Tom Bryson, aud who has
gipio <o so fearful an account was the
miserable wreck of my noble father of
thoeo old days, Newlaud Wendell by
mono.
Misfortune overtook him in the city,
lie loll from his high position ia bu i-
nesa and society, lie lost his wealth,
lie was once tried for crime. I never
knew correctly the true story of that
sorrowful time, but I have often heard
my father bitterly say that ho was fur
more sinned against thau sinning, and
that Mason Belmont—your own father,
Randall--was responsible him for his that rum. tho
.And I have heard say
older Bolmont was the merciless cred¬
itor who stripped him of all his prop¬
erty, wheu a little forbearance would
have brought him his due. and made a
man again of the poor, distressed
debtor.
psi? "p. 1 p—
mother m rr her dying l^our that I would
ulwavs be faithful to iny father and
ever love and obey him That is true.
And you have wondered liow that ;
promise could constrain me to give my
hand to Idgar A an A\yck, whom 1 did
notlove and to reject yemrsef, well confess whom
itl. s did at 4 ? the e bidding may of my as father.
lou might well wonder. The rea-
«°n I gave you wuis not the reatone
Not but that 1 have been true to tho
memory of that saint in Heaven my
own dear mother. No, but that I
wished to keep the pledge I had will-
iugl.v given her in her dying hour!
But she never foresaw how brntified
her once noble misbaud would become
with the years. Elio never anticipated
ih«t he could become so cruel as to re-
quiromoto wed. and not to wed, ac-
cOTding to his selfish will.
No! There was ^.uoth-r reason for
wtiat 1 so strangely promised to do—
for what I have, with equal strange-
ttess, declined to do.
Do you remember, Randall, when
icm met uie in the old house last Octo-
Let? How you thought you had met
me somewhere before liow I coldly
loldyou that yo i were mistaken.
U’ll \\ hen l I lt last saw sfw fnn you in in thl the ifiJ city you
° d ’ aQ<1 1 hadnot
I dared not tell you so. !t was
ZtZ lo ^ceal our identity; ^there
Wa Aud 0t t!ow rt arthe sha low f th t
5r, B :° ,U ^g d “som.”m« it t”
seemed to mo as if woman never a if-
fcred a. IW,
been iara mners; x am
innocent!
On that day, last October, you rame
fco the old house with the officers of the
law, to seat h for cIpws to help <>ti yon
find your father, who lm 1 „ ,. t -
disappeared.
Your feet trod on the very briuk ol
discovery, and you never suspected it
The robber and the murderer con¬
ducted you about the house, and you
did not know it.
You walked through the sitting-
room: tV»» mowev for which roar fal ,,r r
was slain was there, secreted in the
closet.
Y ou went down into the cellar. Your
feet stood above his buried remains!
But yon know it not.
On the night of that dreadft »rm,
last August, Mason Belmont came to
that bouse for shelter. 3 Emitted
bim, a-~d knew him.
I was ordered to go to my room.
There was that in my father’s demeanor
that I saw, that the visitor did not see.
t troubled me. Never bad I seen him
bok so woltish.
I came back to the stairs, and listen¬
ed. 1 beard him fiercely reproaching
pour father for h s misfortunes.
I went to bed, but could uot sleep.
The atmosphere of the whole bouse
seemed charged with violence and
crime.
I rose in the nigbt, and pai fia’.lv
dressed myself.
o, <. ! od forgive my wretched, mia-
gu’decl father! I learned of bid awful
crime.
Spare me the painful recital of all
that I saw and beard in those hideous
h0U ; S -
1 e P®, °* m T owa ilJe ( for 1
knew 1 that i. the> murderer would have
siruek me dead had he detected me), 3
saw lum burying tho corpse of his vie-
tim; I saw him secreting the money.
Aud he never, to the moment of his
death, suspected that I knew aught
of it.
Discovery was threatened, whom he
learned that Edgar \ an Wyck had
g ided Mason Lielmont to the house.
AYhether Edgar at any time suspected
the c-rimo, I do not know; but his si¬
lence as to the presonc o of your father
in that house on that night was bought
by the promise of my hand.
What was I to do? To live with the
dreadful knowledgo that I had was
hard enough; was I also to see my
father go to the hangman ?
That might have been the penalty * of
a refusal of Edgar.
Shall i speak of the daily and night-
ly horror of dwelling beneath that
roof siuco that August night? You
may conjecture it; I . an not tell it.
•Save for the tragic fate of the un-
happy being who perished in the do-
struction ot tho house, I cannot regret
that it has been swept out o , existence.
To mo it would ever be a placd ol
horrors.
Now you know all. You know the
life I have lately lived, the crushing
burdens I have borne. You know why
I have avoided you, * why ” I fiy from yon *
now.
Need I say more? Would you wish
”
for more?
Well, let me go on. Y r ou are large
of soul; you are generous far bevoud
the power of most men.
Will you still urgo mo? Do you re-
mind me that, with those deaths that
have lately occurred, I am freed from
all control, from all fear of eonse-
quences, and that I should offer no
further impediment? and think!
llaudall Bolmont, Htop
You come of a proud and wealthy
ancestry. In the citv where yon live,
you are, or will be, known of all men.
You belong to its business, to its so-
ciety; high honors must bo waiting for
you in coming years. that
Your wile must be one vou are
not ____________ ashamed of; ^ whoever ________ she ^ be, lie* u i
history will be examined, questions’
liiill jtesis
*
cellar j-»
Because the storv must become wouhi
knowa . 0 neo 1 thought that 1
keep ifc foreVor hidden iu my breast.
Bu t you see why 1 am compelled toteV
you; and now, other* must know it
Vou mu-t recover the remains anc
give them Chr.slian burial at vou.
home; the whole shocking story wil
known there
0r , jf not , how would it be will
vourself? w ouId vau i ke to hp fac(
’ who3(
io faee< for life , wit h lil( . woman
f. lt l,er murdered vours? Could ' voi
*
cn( Jare that ?
No! The „ is no 03cap0 from tin
conviction that, whoever else may hi
joined ^ together, we two must be for
‘ er 8Un ' jc \ re d
Farewe T . 1, then, forever . You liavi .
J ried b> luak <, happy, but it camio.
bp * Uod , reward you oa you do-
s e r ' e - * lo ' e ? ou to ° * to muk<
you wretched. Jessica.
_
ithp J M iJ,i. ifi- yvv XYY.
rp k stars were brilliant ^ iu the niriit
^ >(un0 „ ur8U ed her wav
took the road away from A vies
worth, with the intention of making
her a8 secret as possible. nlans* she ha*!
She had formed no
nonumev. To put as much distanc<
! ^rhi^tieVna 1 ; 1 atVe^o suv™°tc
lo '* : tbat an8Wor wou ld be
•
ploOOea on ull J.Tbr.ak. H.Tp«g ;
resa wa '* f low and l ,ain ’ S ’ e M 48 n ?
VlSJSSL • , Sij
■ tore uer np, aua gave her o ue lio.i-
tiou-* strength. by the she
With frequent rests way
had ftt daylight accomplished then alioiit that
live miles, hhe began to m e
it would be impossible for her to con¬
ceal the way ot her esca e. < arts aod
wagons on the.r wav to Avleawortn
market frequently passed her. Some
of the drivers she knew, at least bv
sight, and she saw tint there wert
looks ot astoni-hraent at seeing her
afoot and alone upon the road at such
nn hour.
When exhausted nature within her
cried out for rel ef, she stopped before
a mean-looking ho iso by the sule of
the road. A lo <feri*h-lookm<? man
‘I'd o i. 1 * » •’*'? <v-ot- the g* f , ' -
-e-— iitfc while,
“Can I stop here a e h.
get something to eat?” she asKed, in a
hesitating way. thout removir.
He stared at her w 6
his pipe. •
“nunno,” he growled. “Who be
you anyway?” sir I o^v
“Vlease do not ask r->o. little, and
want vo rerreaa myself a
then go on.”
“Oh, you do—and you don’t!” sneered
Ifhe _ man. “Got any money?"
She bad to admit th it she had none.
“ \Vell, then, you go r ght on. Sus¬
picious characters without money ain’t
my kind.”
The fellow laughed at his own bru¬
tality, and the distressed girl moved
away.
She hardly had the courage to as&
again; but at the next house a pleas¬
ant faced young woman, with three or
four children at her heels, can e run-
niisg ou to her as she passe 1, with an
BXC amatio i of surprise and pleasure. Where
“Why, ifit ain't .ciss Bryson! such
on earth are yon going to at a
timeof day? .And on foot, tool Come
in, and tell me all about it ”
The good creature had formerly iiou*e, been
her nearest neighbor at the old
and she remembered many little acts of
kindness that Jess caliad showu her.
Tho wanderer went in and rested
herself, aud ate and drank, while the
woman never ceased to ask her ques¬
tions. The girl evaded most of them,
and such answers as she gave were
very i nsat efactory to the questioner. with
“There’s something the matter
you, miss; I’m certain of it. You just
bike oil your things, and stay with me
awhile. Somebody’s been try ng to
impose upon you; I see that by your
looks. Tell me who to send for and
my • oe shall go and curry any message
.you want to send.”
• ossica rose in alarm,
“There is no trouble,” she said. “I
thank you for your kindness, and will
bid you good morning.’* woman’s urgent
Against the good
protests she w. nt on her way.
Walking on until she vra-t too ex-
hausted to move, she obtained a ride
with a farmer in a springless wagon,
wh ch hard y relieved her fatigue, but
whiih brougnt her three miles further
on l ler way.
The 8Un was now high, the day was
warm. Until near noon she went on,
vve ^’ dizzy, feverish. Site saw a
spring by the roadside, and went to it
r °li eve l* er thirst. She sat down
* ! l' on a stone, intending to rest for a
w 1Homeu t 8 - W hen she tried to rise,
31 , ?,/ cb Leipless in the grass,
^he could do no more; her strength
wa ? utterly gone. She closed her eyes,
^d wished that she might die here,
3he clatter of hoofs in the road
caused her to open them. Tue vision
°! a p rmt black l } OTse appeared to her; of
f 10 ard , an exclamation, a sound
“ uri 7 ln , 8 a & arm was passed about
be f: and she ^ held U P Ban-
Uu,,e How | monfc cruel 8 this is of you, Jessica! .
, 8aid - B 18 cruel to me; it is
, c ™.® 1 to
How H°w did did you you find find me? me?” „ she she , asked, asked, , ,
• tor tbe l nsfcaDt ' to the happi¬
ness of his embrace.
Sfff«5S£?£ “Finu you!” he laughed. “Why, I
flf back to a,rs. Van
«‘‘ No ’ 8be 8a > d , sitting upright,
d } . < 1 ! “ ot read whafc 1 wrote to - von
[ nd ? ed 1 T dld ’ e V iT ? ' v ' ord it.”
tt And can you, after that, continue
tOfeekme?* . Why should I not? Dreadful as
h ® 8t ? r ? 1S ^ shocked as I am to
hear the truth, why should you suffer
uloi ; e bt ’ caas * of »t? You are inno
asyou wrote; you are all to me*
and more, that you ever were.”
Ler resolution wavered at last. Yet
she still resisted,
“You do not think of yourself; you
aro t °° porous, too not.le. You
w with ® u J , d J mo.” overshadow your whole life
“This is the last time of asking Jes-
si{ , a » ]le said< with j solemnity.
«j kuow . mvse i f . no ckang e Was possi .
bi e in me toward you; nothing that
yon have told me has changed vo-i the
slightest in answer” my eyes. Now, I wil] take
my final from your own lips. ^
Is it joy? - or must it be woe?” lier
A sense of rest came over as she
hcavd , hilu - His arm held her up; she
e 1 * n f° k' 8 kind, serious eyes, and
« aw thf> rethat winch rejoiced her more
tban tbe 8 ;« ht of tlle green oasis re-
joiccs the traveler . m the desert sands.
Jj h e saw anew life before her, with all
mUl%b * n ‘ Aud 80 * he r& *
“ It ,L" J0y dear Handall; jo j and
’
[tttts rx-> J
fe
lnlrU8t about S75.000 worth of prop-
S2 ™
CENTRAL GEORGIA ALLIANCE
WAREHOUSE.
Cotton Received, Stored and Handled at Lowest Prices.
INSURANCE LOW. ■ ■ WFIGHT FUR.
OUR MOTTO:
We Price Our Own Cotton.
R. W. BONNER, Manager, Macon, Ga.
ALLARD BARNWELL, Salesman.
C. G. HILSMAN& CO.
DEALERS IN
n
GROCERIES 3
Hardware and Clothing.
Of Every Quality, Style and Price.
We also sell Wagons, Buggies and Sewing Machines, in fact, nearly everything
o be found in either a city or country store.
We have established a branch store at Cul'oden for the accommodation ef our
ustomers, and are now doing a general supply business.
We have an extensive ginnery with all modern conveniences.
Will gin and buy all the cotton brought us without delay and guarantee
satisfaction.
We solicit your patronage and cordially invite you to give us atrial.
HILSMAN & FINCHER BROS.. R>hW, Oa.
ft. T. FITZPATRICK. J. M. JORDAN.
FITZPATRICK & JORDAN,
C ulloden, ■ Georgia.
Experience has taught a s that the quick sale and short profit system is witn by
'«r the most satisfactory c both buyer and seller. This system, coupled
honest dealings, are the principles on wh'ch we base our hopes of success.
Ou.r Stools. Gousista of
DRY GOODS, NOTIONS, SHOES, HATS, HARDWARE,
GROCERIES,
And m fact everything usually found in a first-class general merchandise stock.
We handle the Celebrated OLD COLONY Shoes
in Men’s goods, and the QUEEN AND
CRESCENT in Ladies’ goods. Every
pair guaranteed
V» c will open very soon a handsome line of goods suitable for Christmas presents.
W e guarantee prices arainst any market within your reach on eve*.y article in stock.
W e heartily thank our many friends for the liberal patronage given us, and cordially
solicit a continuance of the same.
FINCHER RROTHERS.
WATCHMAKERS AND JEWELERS,
Harris House Block
^ l.l 9030 Qt-QP i Vj 3 ii FORT VJLLEY, GEORGIA.
"0, ; Keep a Full Line of Watches, Clocks, Gold and
iw (3 Boll Plate Jewelry, BriJul and Christmas Presents.
RAliROAD WATCHES A SPECIALTY.
Best makes at lowest prices, W i!I dupieate Prices
V 9 ot any city, North or South. Every article Guaran¬
teed Just as represented.
REPAIRING A SPECIALTY.
Silverware, Sewing Machines,
Spectacles, Etc.
- m ■ m Shomer Pianos,
m ■
Finest in the Market.
FIN CH ER BROS.
~
E L. BURDICK.
-DEALER IN-
«*orn p Meat, Flour, Hay, Oats, Meal, Wheat, Bran,
Sugar, Coffee, Lard, Syrup, Tobacco,
Salt. Bogging, Ties, etc.
When you come to M.con call and see me and get mv prices.
E. L. BURDICK, Agent,
432 Poplar Street, - Macon, Georgia.