Newspaper Page Text
How a Dying Chilli
Was Saved!
t , ... p .,! vi.-si.r-ix Co., Iso., Sept, 19, 1 SSI.—
1 , ,11 , .V lag Is a true account of what your
s ; 1 , i; done foroiir little daughter, Hazel,
" When old
w f .,.*• years old. 12 months a
,J./ . ;.,,cv.(*donherhoe!,\vliich ’ri. slowly grew
* ",;,1 r. family physician thought it was
!,y a piece of broke** glass or needle,
M.t fa it* J t, bring anything to light. The
, becainu feebler all the time, seeming to
Ithe use of her log, and dually quit walk-
in emit iy. The middle Huger and thumb
m , ithei hand U-oame enlarged, the flesh be-
a hard. The hip Joints became Inrolv.
s i that when seven :eeu mouths old she
i not stand, having lost the use of leg
£ ,„1 ;,rm Pcrllat curvature of the spine also
f rowed. The nervous system was wrecked,
muscles contracted, and there was general
rtusiing of flesh and muscle. At eighteen
m ,n;hs of ago s!i» was placed under the
t * nent of a pnnilnant physician of Boe-
i n, Ms-a, but at the end of ten months she
had 1 lined to such a degree that she was in
a .’.ylug condition. This was in April, 1S£6.
UV* took tuo clllid array not knowing what
t.i do. In this dreadful dilemma we were
„ver persuaded by friends to try “one bot-
t). * of Swift’s Specific, which we did, and
I,..foie It had all been taken we e*w a change
f. ,r the better In her symptoms. We kept It
up, and have done so to this day, and will
k»ep It up. If the Lord wills, for many days
income, forii has brought our dying Hazel
t , life, to vigor, to strength and health again.
The ashen hue of her cheeks has changed to
a rosy tint. She Is able to walk anywhere,
her languor and melancholy have passed
away, and she Is now a blithe, cheerful, hap¬
py rom.p'ng child. Should you wish to In¬
crease },.ur testimonials of proof of the
virtue of S. S. S., our names and what we
li ne raid Is but a portion of what vre owe to
y u, -In.ui,l you wijh to use them,
..
liin lly yours,
Bex. F. Swift.
Obetrcde E. Swift.
I*. O. Box CG.
Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases mailed
Thu swiftS rKiUKicCo..Drawer iAtlantnf.Ga.
f 3W Advertisements.
-A MONTH. No capita! required
ipOUU |A "Apply good chance to make money.
for territory at once I?. 8,
_ Newark. N J,
lnmderbach Lander!>ach Co. (
PATENTS i i.ns* n a i v
Wuahinuton. *». <
Send for circular.
.■■ANTED Inf Immediately, Ladies Needloxork to work
fora wholesale louse on
ffff at their homes. ( e ei>t any distance!.
Good pay cun be made. Everything furnish
eii. Particulars free. Address Artistic Needle
work Co., 135 81b St.. New York City.
PARKER’S
HAIR BALSAM
I 1 Cleanses and beautifies the hair.
Promotes Fails a luxuriant Restore growth. Gray
J 1 Never to
Hair to its Youthful Color.
| Curesscalp diseases and hair falling
HINDERCORNSo
The safest, surest and best cure for Corns, Bunions,
fooure. Mops all pain. Ensures r'-infoi 1 10 th • foot. Never faife
X5 cents at I>ru^; ^'o. lliscox & (Jo., N. V,
LIEBIG (MI'S I \llll
OF MEAT. Finee and Cheapest Meat
Flavoring stock for Soups, Made Disli
es and Sauces. Annual sale 8.000,000 jars.
COMM ETTUH
OF MEAT. An invaluable tonic. “Is a sue.
cess and a boon for which , a ions should
feel “Lancet,” grateful.”—See “Medical Press,”
Ac.
liEfDill WITH SHE SifiMTURE
OF BARON LIEBIGi n fac-smiile across
label Highly alcoholic recommended as a night
oap instead of drinks.
LIEBIG (UNITS E.\1IUIT
OF MEAT. To be had of all Storekeepers,
Grocers and Chemists S le Agents for
the United States (wholesale only) C.
David it, Co., 9 Fern!.unh Av.nue, Lon¬
don, England.
Harper’s Magazine.
ILLUSTRATED.
Hahfkk’s MAOAziNe is an organ of pro¬
gressive thought and movement in every
department tions of life. Besides other attr c-
it will contain, during the coming
year, important articles, superbly illustra¬
ted, on tlie Great West; articles on Ameri¬
can and fore gn industry; beautifully illus-
tra td papers on Scotland, Norway, Switz¬
erland, Algi-rs, and the West Indies; new
novels by William Black and W. D. How¬
ells; novelettes, each complete in a single
number, and by Henry Jnnies, Lafcadio Hearn,
Amelte ltives; short stories by Miss
Woolson and other popular writers; and
illustrated papers of special artistic and lit
erary interest. The editorial departments
are conducted by George William Curtis,
William Dean fffowells and Charles Dudley
Warner.
Harper’s Periodicals.
I*EB YEAR.
HARPER’S MAGAZINE........*4 00
HARPER S WEEKLY.............. 1 CO
HARPER’S BAZAR................. 4 00
HARPER’S YOUNG PEOPLE........ ’2 CO
knifed Postage free to all subscribers in the
Mates, Canada or Mexico.
1 he volumes of the Magazine begin with
the numbers for June and December of
each year. When no time is specified, sub¬
scriptions will begin with tlie number cur¬
rent at time of receipt of order
Bound volumes of Harper’s Magazine, for
three years back, in neat cloth binding, will
be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of
$3.00 per volume. Clrih eases, for binding
50ce_ts each—by n ail, post-paid.
Index to Harper’s Magazine, Alphabeti¬
cal, Analytical and Classified, for volumes
1 to 7( , inclusive, from June, 1850, to June,
H85, one vol., 8vo, cloth, $4 ()0.
Remittances should be made by post-
office money order or draft, to avoid chance
of loss.
tisement Newspapers are not to copy this adver¬
without the expre s order of Har¬
per & Brothers.
Addiess HARPER A BROS , New York.
; g i^st .* Zi .Q? sj
• ‘ e
:!22Z22BSa
Ba WrrWtiy K.-tnilf we'A* Rr.*I itr.-ik. w. :*■ :>•. «?. : - . a!. Never fall $e*!e«I) t*
fcjS mJY.*r-I a‘V •It?. ‘rT %\ tiwthlv fart*!w ilct>T »«•! it"! Wf*•■!*» WT* !n rvli."T. **vli PhUAdoIp-tUi rf. •*'wt l*a
C **-•
BY CHARLES J. BELLAMY
Copyrighted by by the Author, with and bisn. pul*,
arrangement
CHAPTER III.
AN l/XWILLING GUEST.
Philip thought things were going a little
too far, and ;*.*.; 1: * walked along with his un¬
desirable host he began to plaiy escapes.
Up on tho hill to his left lie could see, now
and then, between the houses, his own home
and the lights in its window streaming wel-
come to him. Tho tense mood relaxed in
him, old habits of thought and association
made themselves felt again; the poor man
walking heavily by his side seemed a thou¬
sand miles removed from him.
“Here .we are,” said Graves, as ho led the
mill owner’s son up a couple of rickety look¬
ing steps to a doorway. Philip was not
pleased at all; he hiul seen enough poverty
to-night; he did not care to particularize.
What was the use of distressing himself over
this man’s private, miseries and discomforts!
Wasn’t it written in all the books of political
economy that—but Graves opened the door
and waited for his unwilling guest to go in
before him. The poor man’s heart was warm
in tiie unwonted exercise of hospitality.
With an ungracious frown on his face
Philip entered the dimly lighted room, his
great boots sounding with startling effect on
the bare floor. Tho top heavy kerosene lanif
was turned down, but with the heartiness of
a true host, Graves turned up the lamp so
that Philip could li ■■■ k about him. There was
little enough to see—a round pine table with
a little blue, cracked crokery on it, a rusty
l ooking stove, two or three dingy, unpainted
chairs, a high backed rocking chair, with a
faded, shajieless chintz cushion, and what
reined to be a sofa in <ric corner.
At llrst Philip thouglfc rlie room had been
unoccupied, but as Graves turned up tho
lamp a trifle more he saw it was a woman
lying upon the sofa—a woman with sunken
black eyes awl wan, colorless cheeks, whoso
loosely bound hair, gray before its time, fell
down over her shoulders.
“Tho woman is sick, or she’d get up and
speak to you,” said Graves, with a new gen¬
tleness in his voice, as he looked at tho wife
of his youth. “They say she might get well
if we could pay doctors’ bills. Eh, Jennie.'”
The girl who stood in tho doorway had her
mother’s eyes, not quite large enough, but
with a rare sheen in them; it might be her
mother's face, too, but with the bloom of
perfect health lightening up its olive.
Involuntarily ho rose to his feet and
bowed, but as the girl only seemed to regard
him as one might look at a circus tumbler,
Philip relapsed into his seat, in the humilia¬
tion beauty can put upon the greatest of us
“Nothin’but cold potatoes! Well, I guess
thoy’ll do with a little salt and a piece of
breach”
“Did Curran speakr asked the girl.
“Yes,” answered Philip. “And who is lr>.
—a common laborer?” Then lie bit bis lip
But nobody took offense, no one suspected
their guest of being anything above a com¬
mon laborer.
“Only a laborer,” answered Graves, “a
weaver, but lie's got some book knowledge
somehow. There aint many can beat him
at talkin’, is there!”
Tho girl’s eyes were on Philip now, impa¬
tient, as he fancied, even for his poor tribute
to her lover’s praise.
“He is wonderful,” he assented, “but what
I don’t understand is, that lie can be such a
man and still a weaver Where did ho learn
it all?’’
_ “Have enough to eat? Well,
you got
knowledge has got pretty well through all
classes now, for those a)> wants it. It’s there
for all who have eyes or ears for it. Why,
friend, where have you In ert all your life!
Brains and hearts don't go by station. I’ve
found smarter men in shops and mills than
most we send to congress. There's thousands
like Curran, if they only got the stirrin’ he’s
had some way. Now, Jane, it’s about t ime
you got this man’s bed ready.”
Philip's heart Jumped. Of course ha
couldn’t stay, but what excuse could he give
for coming at all, then!
“Be you lookin’for a job?” asked Graves,
after Ills daughter had loft them.
It occurred to Philip that lie had one, if ho
wanted if—to put one spark of happiness
into such lives ns these, but ho nodded. Tho
nutu looked him over rather disparagingly.
“Well, wash yourself up and black your
boots a 1 lit, and l guess I can do somethin’
for you in the milt. It’s hard work .aid
small pay, but we never had better, you and
me. We don’t well know what we miss bein’
poor, wo miss it such a big ways.”
“How long has Curran lived here Tasked
Philip incoherently. The man stared at him
a moment .
“Oh! Curran, he ain’t been here morc’n a
six month. He aint got no folks; lie lives
down to one of them factory boardin’ houses,
but don’t have no friends, or talk about any¬
thin’ but what you heard to-night. But it’s
all useless.” Graves looked gloomily on tho
floor. “We aint got uo show; the rich are
too many for us. I guess it's human nature
for one man to boss tiv* crowd, or it wouldu t
a always been so. There’s tlie girl, she 11
show you where to sleep. Be up early in the
morain’, now.” bo to
Tiie only course for him seemed to
follow the girl, and Philip rose to his feet.
“Good night," ho said. The sick woman
I opened her eyes in surprise. Such people as
I they found no time for amenities in their
i dreary home. Graves looked around.
“What? Oh, yes. gqodby, but I’m goin’ to
see you i:i the morain'.”
Hi. bedroom, on which the roof encroached
greedily. wa,; newly whitewashed, or else was
seldom used. Ilis lamp sat on a wooden
chair with no back to it. crowded by a tin
wash basin, with his portion of water half
filling it, ami a round black ball of soap.
Then Philip turned to look at the Ix*d they
had made for him on a slat, bedstead with
low headboard but n< ‘ ■> low as the thin
pillow. How many times must anybody
double the pillow to make it fit for his head?
For a count orj>au-* ’ /as tiie girl s plaid shawl;
he had seen it on a nail down stairs. Poor
little girl, she would, want it very sarly in
the morning. Then he glanced in the eight
by ten looking glass that hang on the
wall. Disguised! his own father would not
have known hint, and he had a sensation of
double consciousness as he saw' his own
flection. Perhaps Graves was disguised too,
au;l all tho ill dress. A men he had seen that
evening, who suffered as much in
wretched lives a; he could, who could
enjoy all that brightened his own
as much. And clothes made
difference between him and them,
ly. perhaps really. The world manage**! ac¬
cording to the clothes standard—for the man
who could borrow a broadcloth suit,
forts, consideration, happiness—for the
in overalls, weary days, cheerless houses,
hunger sr*;|—I*.**!* T*!n!]! t> nulled off
great boots and threw them angrny across
the room; ho did not know what to make of
it aU.
He did not propose to spend the night here,
of course, and face the family and his job in
tho mill in the morning, but he might as
well lie down till tho house was asleep and
escape became possible. But ho could not
lie down with all his ]>amt on and spoil
the poor little pillow. So he takes off his
yellow whiskers, and makes such good use
of the basin of water and the ball of soap
that when he next looked in the little
mirror he saw no longer the road dusty
tramp, but the fresh, kindly face of a young
man who lias never tasted of the bitter foun¬
tains of life. He started as if he had been
shot; the windows had no eurtaius, and an}'
passerby might have seen his transforma¬
tion. Then came a heavy step on the stairs.
He blew out the light and buried himself in
the bedclothes. In a moment more the door
opened and Philip was breathing heavily.
“Asleep?’ it was the voice of his host
“Well, I s’pose the morning will do. Pretty
tired, I guess; wonder how far he came to¬
day?’and Graves closed tho door after him
and went down stairs again. -
Of course Philip was not going to sleep, but
there would be no harm in just closing his
eyes, ho could think so much better.
Here he was drinking in the very life of
the jK>or, a strange, terrible life he had never
really imagined before. He had seen how
worn and broken were their men, and read
tho pathetic lines of despair and sullen
wretchedness written on their faces, as if in
silent reproach to the providence that had
inflicted the unsoftoned curse of life on them.
He had seen, too, their hapless girlhood,
which beauty cannot cheer, which love only
makes blacker, os the path of lightning a
starless night. And their sic-k, too, with no
nursing, no gentle words, no comforts to as¬
suage one hour of pain. Then he seemed to
bo in the hall once more, and thrilling under
the eloquence of the man Curran. Suddenly
he opened his eyes wide. It could not l>c he
was going to sleep, the bed was too hard-
absurd—there could l*o no danger. But in
five minutes the heir of the Breton mills was
sound asleep in John Graves’ garret room.
How long he had slept Philip had no more
idea than Kip Van Winkle on a former occa¬
sion; indeed it took him a ridiculously long
time to separate dreams and facts enough to
got his bearings. Was that moonlight in the
east, or dawn ? Perhaps tho family were all
up and escape would be impossible. He
bounded to his feet and clutched at his false
whiskers, but alas! his paint was all dis¬
solved in the tin basin. His only chance was
in getting away unnoticed, and in two min¬
utes more he was groping out of his little
room and down the steep stairs, boots in
hand. Ho slowly opened tlie door into tho
sitting room. What if Graves stood within
curiously watching. An odd guest, this,
stealing out before daybreak. Again Philip
wished he had stayed at home that night.
Thank God! no one was in the room. There
was tlie cracked, rusty stove and the sofa the
sick woman “had lain upon; there was the
dish of cold potatoes on the table and tho
chair he had sat in while he tried to eat. But
somebody must be up in the inner room; a
stream of light made a white track through
the half open door. Would that l»olt never
slip—there. It slipped with a vengeance, and
Philip drew back into the staircase in mortal
terror. The light streak on tho floor began
to move, and in a moment more a white
figure stood on the threshold of the tied
room It was Jane Graves, with her long
black hair about her neck and white night
dress, and her eyes glistening brightly. She
held the lamp above her head, and let her
drapery cling as fondly as it chose about a
form that would have charmed a sculptor.
As she listened he could see her wavy lmir
rise and fall over her beating heart. Would
she notice the open stair doo** and come for¬
ward! What then? He must push her rude¬
ly to one side. He imagined her startled
screams and the father’s figure hurrying into
the scene from another room to seize the in¬
terloper. No, she returns to her room. In
another instant he has opened the door and
is walking along the street. His escape was
well timed, for tlie gray dawn of another day
of toil and weariness is creeping over the
factory village.
The houses were all alike, the front doors
just as soiled, the steps equally worn, tlie
paint the same cheerless yellow to a shade.
Through the windows of one of them ho
caught a glimpse of a tall gaunt woman
building the kitchen fire, her face and form
lighted up by the flames she was nursing,
His ready imagination pictured the wan*
featured man who mast be her husband, out
of whose eyes had faded so many years ago
the last lingering gleam of tenderness. Ho
imagined their old faced, joyless children be¬
grudged the scant play hours of childhood.
Trooping behind them all, he pictured a long
line of special wants and sorrows, the com-
|
Mi
n i
,U
It teas Jane Gcures.
pan ions of their days, the specters of their
nights. Tlieir houses looked all alike as he
walked along, so their lives might seem just
alike at first thought. Ten hours for each in
tho same mills—who got almost the same
oittance for their hot work—and must s] tend
their pennies for almost the same necessities.
But infinite must be the diversities of their
sufferinr
_
CHAPTER IV.
CRYING FOR THE MOON'.
The strident voices of 400 looms would
seem to be too much for human nerves, but
the walls of the weave room Number Two of
the Breton mills are hung with soiled plaid
shawls and chip hats, the livery of the fac¬
tory girl. Their restless forms are busy
among the rattling machinery, their swift
cunning fingers moving harmlessly where
mutilation would seem certain. It is a mere
matter of habit; one look at most of the set
pale faces would show there was no brain
, force in exercise. Why, the overseer will
tell you those girls are os much machines as
the frames and belting: though they un¬
doubtedly have one advantage for the em¬
ployers, the girls are cheaper. The wonder¬
ful mechanism of those looms, the skillful
system of belts and pulleys and the enor¬
mous water wheel cost a'fortune. Girls can
t>e bought in the market any day for a crust
of bread.
Is not that figure familiar—the one that
stands this moment leaning against a dingy
white pillar, while the rustling belts and slid¬
ing frames seem hurrying the faster all about
her? T ~ *s on tbc iu***' i ' of ws»J? ?»tw»».*n Die
t*,o j*w. im* wtnuoHs nearest to tier hangs
th“ plaid shawl Philip Breton had for a coun¬
terpane only last night. Her dress is soiled
and ill made, and her hair tied up in th«
closest and ugliest coil to escape the greedy
machinery, ever reaching out for new vic¬
tims But the warm, soft tint of her checks
anil the moist sheen in her black eyes were
always the same, and many a young nrnn
would rather look at her this minute than
turn ■ "If an extra cut, they call it, of e’o’h at
twenty cents.
Her days used to lx* more t " '; t o ! • r
even than now. She had v, ry morn
i.i„ that she might die betoiu night, and at
night that God would take her before morn¬
ing; lake her, she cared not where; no place
could lie worse, certain. But she was slowly
growing, she thought, into the ’ ul calm
that all the rest had learned;and how she
hated the great massive mills, /resistible
giants that held her with deathless grasp,
grimly contemptuous of her writhings and
foolish struggles. The overseers, too, how
she Imp'd them; their sharp words stung her
like the lash of so many taskmasters, and tho
paymaster who doled out to her the few dol¬
lars, t he wages of her blood and life, as if
that could bo jiaid for. She had longed so
many times to throw back his money in the
milling, patronizing face; but tho poor can¬
not afford the dearest of all luxuries, pride.
Suddenly the mill bell rang out above the
roar of tho wheels, and at its voice the looms
stopped, ami the breath of their life taken away,
the tx*!t.s ceased from their endless race.
Another day's work was closed, and tho
poor girls hurried on their shawls and hats
as if at last something pleasant awaited
them and went out in chattering groups.
“What is it, Tonunie?’ A broad shoul¬
dered young fellow had left tho crowd and
followed her shyly up the bill.
“Nothin’ much, only may I walk home
with you?’
“Will that do you any good? Hurry up
then.”
He was an honest faced young fellow, and
h little better dressed than most of the group
that waited ubout the mill yard gate.
“What you want to walk round here with
me for I can’t see. They can’t work you very
hard, Tommie, if you want so much extra
exercise.”
It was rather a contemptuous laugh she
had for him, but she showed a row of small
w hite teeth that poor Tommie thought were
very beautiful:
“1 wanted to say somethin’ particular,
Jennie." And he reached down his big dingy
hand for a stalk of grass, and began pulling
it nervously to pieces, as he kept up with her
quick feet. They were just passing Mr.
Ellingsworth’s house, and father and daugh¬
ter stood in the doorway. No doubt Mr.
Ellingsworth had just come home to tea, Ha
held ilis tall lmt. in his band, while he waited
with his Iieautifulslaughter to enjoy the sot
spring mildness. Jane Graves could see in
behind them. How could they bear to stay
outside? She saw a white spread tea table glis¬
tening with silver and rare china, soft tinted
carpets and pictures in rich gilded frames,
far prettier, she was sure, than anything
nature had to show. The girl’s face, as she
stood resting her white hand on her father's
shoulder, was as calm as the twilight itself.
“How has she deserved it all more than 1!
She was never tired in her life, and I never
lie down at night but my hands and fret
ache. See what she gets for being idle: sea
what l get for my ten hours’ work, every day
since I was a child.”
“We've known each other pretty long, Jen¬
nie, and—and”—he had pulled the grass all
all to pieces—“and I s’poseyou know how I’ve
—I moan how I’ve felt. I am doing a littlo
better now.” The young man’s eyes bright¬
ened, “I’ve got a little money left me, and
you know I’m just made second hand.”
“IVhat is that to me, Tommie?’she said,
impatiently. Her woman’s soul was longing
for the beautiful life of the rich, whose house
she was passing, and sho felt, too, the admir¬
ing glance Mr. Ellingsworth hail given to
her graceful figure. Why was this awkward
boy by' her side to spoil the effect?
Tommie Bowler winced, but ducking hit
round head to avoid the sharp look he feared
was in the beautiful eves, he went on dog¬
gedly.
“I s’posed we’d been agoing together quitu
a while, Jennie, and I was goin’to ask you
when you was willin’ to lie married."
“Married—to you?’
Ah, Tommie Bowler, what were you think¬
ing of to want to marry it girl who had such
a tone its that for you?
iears of shame started into his eyes. “I
aint so low ; I never thought hut what you
would before.”
Hhe gave him a look half curious a i half
pitiful. He might as well have cried for tho
moon. < ‘ould it be the lad thought that just
because ■ ho was pretty sho could make his
homo happy for him—his?
“I’m not going to have a hand at making
another poor man’s home. People like us
bad better lie single; there’s only half the
trouble that way, Tommie.”
The broad shouldered young man, who did
not know w hat was good for him, fell lack
from the v, nan his heart hungered for as if
he was shot. A nd sho wal ked on, with hard¬
ly another thought for the foolish lover who
Imagined they two could be happy together.
Why couldn't she lx.* rich? They had al¬
ways told h* r sho was beautiful. If she only
had a chance. They say men are fools over
pretty womet . .. 1 that is the only hoi>o a
woman has of winning !u*r way. If she only
had a chance.
A delicate gray mist floated over the river
below tho village, and the green forests and
fresh meadows on the other side smiled
through it, like a fair woman through her
teal's. A fired soul might have drunk in its
beauty and been rested, but Jane Graves cast
her eyes down on the dusty road before her
and walked along with a set bitter curl on
her brignt red lips, and did not once look at
the gift of God’s mercy to the poorest of his
creatures. For her part she despised the
poor; she didn't pity them; great strong men
who submitted to lie trodden on and ground
under the feet of the rich; whose blood and
muscles and quivering flesh were weighed in
the balance against a few dollars of the spec¬
ulators. 1 was good enough for them
long as tbev submitted to it. She didn’t
blame the r.i ’*; they were the only wise
ple: she on! ivied them. They did well
take ail th* could get and walk fiver
mapy thou*. *d, as would fall down G f*.:-
them. Oh. if she could only wiu her way
their ranks. But the rich men do not
into the wr .* room for their enslavers.
Sudd uly i o hearil a step behind her
step sho kne w from all others in the
and the whole air seemed to tremble with
new, strange, heavenly impulse.
“Good evening. Jane.”
Sho turned with a new, sweet shyness.
was Curran, the agitator, who was
her. A soft flush was on her cheeks, a
light in her eyes that had grown larger
him in delicious surprise.
“Who is that young fellow who just
you?’
“Oh, one of my lovers.” she
eoquettishly, dropping her eyes before his.
“He your lover!” repeated Curran in
imperious fashion ‘You’re not for such
he, Jennie.” /jleet
Her heart fluttered in fear at
meaning she thought in hirjrords. 8he
trying to walk very slowly, but how
they seemed to pass the houses.
“So I told him," she said.
“Yon did well then.” aud he looked
admiringly on tlw girl. * V on are a tme wo¬
man. I don’t suppose you know it.”
Jano Graves tried to look a* if IV wa* news
to per, and Curran went cm. “Few women
are prettier There arc fine prizes forluch a*
you in this world if you will only wait." He
continued thoughtfully, “Men have to work
for distinction; a pretty face brings it to
women.” trusted
■What sort of prizes’” And she
herself to look up at him. How grand ho
was, with his firm, strong fare. If he only
had a touch of weakness in him that might
bend down to her.
“Position, money, power.^”
“No woman cares for those,” And she t>e-
lievcxl it as she spike, looking away over the
river.
‘•What then?’ ho asked, smiling “Those
tilings iire what all men are working for, I
suppose.” but . thing.”
“Women care for one
Sometimes the climax of a character is
reached only in old age, when storms have
wreaked their fury for a lifetime on a soul.
Sometimes it comes in childhood, with three¬
score years of decline to come after it. It
woa at this moment that this girl’s life
reached its moral height If she could but
have kept it.
“That is love,” she added softly. “It is
their lives; they hop* only for that; they
dream only of it. ”
Curran laughed, but gently, as he took her
hands at parting, pressing them perhaps un-
consciously. yet no man can be wholly care¬
less to such beauty as hers.
“It is only because women are more foolish
than men, not because they are more d<*-
voted, that they are able to make such ui*-
surd mistakes.”
She smiled on him as radiantly as a red
petal’s 1 rose unfolding its glowing heart to
the morning sun—the sun that gives every¬
thing and wants nothing, and stood half
turned watching his retiring form. The road
at this jioint passed near a deserted ruin,
once a brick sawmill, which hail shorn tho
hill* and valleys around of their pride, now a
favorite trysting place for lover* of moon¬
light nights like this would lx*. Curran was
just entering under an arch, where once had
swung a heavy oaken door which long agd
had served some shivering family for a
week’s firewood.
Ho went in and did not once turn. How
cruel men are. Perhaps, sho told herself, he
1s to meet there some messenger of tho Groat
league he hml told her alxiut, and they will
plan together some bold stroke. It was
beautiful to have such power, even if it made
him forget this one pxir girl, whose heart
longed so eagerly for another smile.
Tho whole world seemed glorified to tho
girl as sho walked on. Hhe had loitered so
long that the sun was now almost setting,
with his flowing robe of carmine alxiut him,
and the whole landscape seemed in a rapture
of silent worship. Jane Graves was like ono
in a dream— her home, which she could tell
from its cheap dreary counterparts, might
have been a palace; the path along in front
of it, beaten by so many faltering footsteps,
seemed only pleasantly famfliar to her.
\Vh t ’ 1 ’* onto envy in anybody's lifo
that. Uau Hoi. her dear hope!
But down tho hill comes a great, w hite
horse, tossing his mane and curvqtlng in the
pride of his strength and ix-auty.
Its rider who held the rein so gracefully
must bo young Philip, the mill owner’s son;
he harl just finished college, they said. Ho
that was tlie young man Bertha Ellingsworth
wu engaged to; not ill looking, and he nxle
well. The girl smiled to herself. “But
Bertha Ellingsworth had not seen Curran.”
“Di<l he lift his hat to me?’ Hhe looked
inquiringly alxiut her. “There is no ono
else, and his black eyes seemed to know me,
too, how odd!” thought the girl, os sho
walked on more hastily, and the horse and
Its rider disapjiearod in a cloud of dust.
‘ And it ‘ oenis as if I had seen him some¬
where, too ”
[TO -K CONTINUED.]
Rule Nisi.
Writer T. Miller, i February Mortgage, Ac. 18x8.
versus 'term,
AdolphusC Schaefer, )■ Superior Spalding Court County of
surviving partner of |
A. C. Schaefer & Co. J Georgia.
Present, the Honorable James S. Boynton,
Judge of said Court.
It appearing to the Court by the petition
of Walter T. Miller that on the first day of
April in tho year of our Lord C. Eighteen A Hen Co.,
dred and Seventy-two A. Schaefer
a firm composed of A. C. Schaefer and Geo.
Y. Barker, made and delivered L. said Wal¬
ter T. Miller a certain mortgage in which
the sum of Six Thousand Dollars was ac
knowledgeil to be uue the said plaintiff,
which said mortgage deed bears date April
1st, 1872, to secure the payment of said
amount due, whereby they conveyed to said
waiter T Miller the fo lowing described
property,to-wit: That tractor parcel of land
lying or being in the, 3*1 District of originally
Monroe, then Pike, distinguished now Hpalding in County, plan of
and known and the
. Forty-seven (47), Seven
ty nine (79), Seventy-eight Two (78). Hundred and Fifty- und
one (5l), and One-half each containing Seven-
Two (‘202)^) acres; also,
five (75) acres in tiie northwest corner of lot
No. Seventy-seven (77); iot also, Fifty (50)
acres in southeast part of No Forty eight
(48), all in same district, containing Thirty-five in the
aggregate Nine Hundred and
(.935) acres, more by or land less, then in the known entire tract, Jno.
bounded north as
G. Lindsay’s land and others, east by land
then known as land of Dr. Pritchaid and
others, south by Buck Creek, and west by
land of Squire Masse it and others, being
premises conveyed February by Philip E. 1868. McDaniel dtscrib to
said defendant* 4tti, as
ed in foregoing petition; conditioned that if
said firm of A, C. Schaefer A Co. (of which
A. C. Schaefer is now surving partner)
should pay off and discharge said debt of
Six Thousand Dollars according to its tenor
and effect, that then said Deed of Mortgage
should be void.
A d it further appearing that said debt re
mu* ) unpaid; it is therefore Ordered, that
sai- \. C. Schaefer, thia surviving partner first as
afoi said, pay into Court by the
dat of the next term thereof, th‘*
inn re-1 and cost due on said Mortgage,
show cause to the contrary, if there be
and that on failure of said A. C. 8cbaefer,
surviving partner as aforesaid, s. to do,
equity of redemption in and to said mort
gaged premises he forever thereafter
and foreclosed.
And it is further Ordered, That this
be published in the Griffin News once
month for four months, or a copy
of served on the said A. C. Schaefer,
ing partner as aforesaid, or his special
or attorney, at !ea«t three months before
n* xt term of t! is Court,
i’j tbe < ii*i. Kebrnart 8th, 1888.
JAMts'H. BOYNTON,
Hammond, Petitioners Judge 8 Attorneys. C^F. C.
Hal! A
I, \V M. Thomas, Clerk of the Superior
Court of Spalding County, Georgia, do here
by certify the above to be a true
from Hie minutes of said Court at ?< ’ •'». i
l'eiiu, 1898. W. M ” 11 -iv -
fl*-9. :;! 4 n C'le’4. 8 C > * .
Notice io Oebtors and Creditors.
All persons indebted to the estate of Ja»
T. Eliis, late of Spalding County, Gearg :
deceased, are hereby notified to coll on
undersigned and make settlement of such
debteducss at once; and ail persons
demands against arid estate are notified
present their claims properly ELLIS. proven. Exeentor-
feb7w6.* JA8 R
March Sheriff’s Sales.
IXTILl. BE SOLDO* THE VIB8T TCI*
TT day in March next between the leant
hours ef talc, before the door of the Court
Honre, in the city of Griffin, Spalding conn
ty, Georg -gU, the following dllowing described drecribed proper
ty, Sixteen to-wit:
acre* ef land more or leas off a
lot 107 in die ?d District of originally Henry
now mid Spain from Sunny ing county, Side Winded Griffin east by the
to and sooth
by the roed leading from the. Griffin and
Sunny and Side by road remainder to ii. T Patterson’s, said north
west the of lot tram
her 107; stid tract so levied on being 840
feet square. Levied on and sold us tiie
property of /. T Dorrey by virtue of a II fa
issued from Spalding Superior Court!-* fav¬
or Dowry. of Niimy O Had aw ay vs. Zathaiiah T.
Tenant io possession legally noti¬
fied. **5.000.
Also, at the same time and place, will be
sold twenty acres of land in a »quare cfl of
lot number 58 in the 4th District of orieinst
ly Fayette number now Spalding county, bounded
east by lot 5‘J, south by the Savan¬
nah,Uriflin A North Alabama railroad, west
and north by reraaider of said lot. levied
on and rold to satisfy ax the tw o property 11 fas. one cf irsoed Lucy from K.
ewe*
Si ul'ing County Court in favor of B- R.
Binki*ty i*. Lin y E. Keeres. and one In Spain fav
or •« *> Re- \< - f . n*i* of ■ Dice, a of
ii*g -up* run *' *'ui i-. W » Reeves and Mrs.
I n«*> K- i v. *s ! .uc v L Keevee, ten-
mu in | . i. < iy notified. $fl.00.
x l-o. i“ he * * tim nil.I lilaoe, will be
- Id f* .* u.e 11 malty, to-w>t: one
•id I! j• . ' I Itu llpcll which it is built,
el. - i ie.1 . Ur ren.ed 111 u and b> < < 1 iii.tynf ink Body, Spalding
n oc.ru or boun
de i fol <>» *. ninth by Meriwether street,
running ah ug raid street twenty *ne feet,
east by VV. i I ramui’ ll tunning back ,1fiy
fret, south by prop* rty of T A, Warren, held
ns f unrdiuu ot tie Warren clfildrott, Warren and we»l
by Warren property held by as guar
dimi. levied on n» the pn jierly hsld by T.
A. Warren guardian of T J. Warren by vir
tue of a fl fa issued from thq, Justice Court
of the 1001st District, G M., In favor of J. R.
Cleveland vs. T. A. Warren, guardian. Prop
rrty printed out D. by plaintiff’s L. attorney and
levicJ on by O. Johnson, C., and levy
tamed over to me Tenant in possession
legally notified. 16.(90.
Also, at the same time and place, will tie
sold one quarter of an acre of land In the
city of Griffin, bounded as follows : On the
wret by Sixth street, on the north and eeat
by J. w. Little and on the South by an "Al¬
ley levied on and sold as the property of
J. W. Little by virtue of a tax n fa issued
ttix by J. W.Travis,T. C., for State and W. County
for the year 1887 versus J. Little.
Levy made by J. W Travin, T. C., and
turned over to me. Mrs. II. H. Padgett, ffi
tenant in possession, legally notified, 00
Also, at the same time and place, will be
sold one vacaut lot in the city of Griffin
con’alning oae-hal? acre, more or less,
bounded as follows : On the we.-t by Nsw
Orleans street, on the C. north P. Newton by College end
street and on the cast by
on the sooth by George fits ' **. Levied on
and sold as the property o' • *>ry Batts, to
satisfy one tax fi fa for?' I County tax
issued by J. W. Travis n favor of
Stats and County v 4 j Starke as
agent for Henry Butu j made by J.
W- Travis, T C., snd turned over to
Tenant in Doeseasion legally notified. M
Also, st the same time and place, will
told one house end lot In the city of
containing one half acre, more orb*
ded as follows : John On the Tillman north by'
street, east by lot,
south by land of W. T. Trammell, on tho
west by land of J. D Boyd. L- vied on snd
sold aa the property of Dick Flcmlkter,
satisfy one tax n fa issued by J. ff. Travis,
T. C., for State and Count; taxes for 1W7
in favor of State and County vs. Dick Pleaa*
ister. Levy made by J. WV Trsvia, T. C.,
and turned over to me. Tenant in
sion legally notified wifi
Also at the same time aud place, b*
•old one acre of land in the Hill city of Griffin, the
bounded on the west by street, on
north by J. B. Mills, on the south and east
by W. Vv • W wv . Hammond’s lit* til lA.lv/UU s children. Villi Levied on
and ..... sold as the property of o W. W. Bam-
one mond's in favor children, of State to satisfy and County two VS **“{? tiu
Hammond for children, and one in ref
State and County vs J B. Mills, agent for
Hammond's children. Said fi fa* levied by
J J.W. Mills, Travis, T.C., and possession, turned over legally to ms.
B. tenant in no¬
tified.
K S, CONNELL. Sheriff, i
Ordinary’s Advertisements.
QRDINARY’S tt. Georgia, OFFICE. January30th,IMS.—E. Srappi H.
Blood worth, Guardian of Minnie Bliiodworth
has applied to me for letters of Dismission
from said Guardianship,
Let all persons concerned xhuw cause bo-
fore the Court of Ordinary of said county, at
my office 1888, in Griffin, o’clock, on tbe first Monday ia
March, by ten a. m., why such
lette's should not be granted.
_*3 < *> E. W, HAMMONNP, Or dina ry?
/ ORDINARY’SOFFICE, Qkokoia, January Sr.u>«» Cock-
Manghum W xt, has anpliied tonte 81st, for 1888.—J. letters J.
of
Administration, de bonis non, on the estate
of Jno. C Maugham, late of said county, de
ceased,
Let all persons concerned show cause be¬
fore office the Court in Grlflln, of Ordinary of first said Monday county, at
my on the in
March, .’888, by ten o’clock a. m., why such
letters should not tic granted.
fS.00. E. W HAMMOND, Ordinary^
f \/rr, \KBINARY'S OFFICE, Jsnuary31st, SFiLnwo 1888—J. Cotw- J.
Geoeoia,
Administration Maugham has applied the’estateof to me for S. letter* W. Many ot
on
ham, late of said county, deceased.
Let all persons concerned show cause be¬
fore the Court of Ordidary of said county, at
my office 1888, in Griffin, o’clock, on tbe first Monday such ia
March, by ten a. ro., why
let’ers should not be granted.
$300. K. W. II 4.MMOND, Ordinary
/\MDINARY’S OFFICE, January SrauuxaCoca
\ J tt, Georgia, 31st, 1888.—Jas.
R. Ellis has applied to me for letters of Ad¬
ministration, de bonis non, on tbe estate of
William Ellis late cf said county, deceased.
Let sli persons concerned skew cause
before the Court in Griffin, of Ordinary tbe of first said Monday county,
at my office on in
March, 1888, by ten o’clock a. m., why sceh
letters should not be be gra ranted
$3.00 E. w . HAM MOND. Ordinary.
/'’hRDINARY’S OFFICE, ■■ tildixo tjoun-
V/ tt, Georgia, Jan. 9th, 1888.—W.B.Hud-
son, admini-tntor, has applied to me for let
ters of dismi-* ion from the estate of Thos.
Lyon, ail late of i* .idcounty, concerped deceased.
Let perron* show cause be-
fore the ( out l of Ordinary of said Monday county, tn
at my office in Griffin, on the first
April, 1888, by ten o'clock a. m , why such
letters should not be granted
$6,15 K W. HAMMOND, Ordinary.
/"kRDINAK i '8 OFFICE, 8 pa ldwo Coc*.
rr, Gxoaou, Feb. 3rd. 1888 —John H.
Keith es administtrator on estate of W-8.
Brow n and has lot applied belonging to me to for said leave estate, to sell a
house front
ing on Broadway street on the north: bound
ed west by an Abbie alley, Wilkins, north by Broadway T.
street, east by debts south by
A. Warren sold to pay due by laid *s
[ stele Let and all persons for distribution. concerned show cause be
fore the Court of Ordinary on the first Mon
day in March next why tbe application
should r.ot be E.W. granted. HAMMOND. Ordinar
$3.00. y
/XRDINAHY’8 OFFICE. Hfaldiro Coen-
Vri tt. GxoKeiA, Feb. 3rd, 1888.—John M,
Bishop, Administrator of estate off Giles Biah
op, deceased, has tendered his resignation as
such administrator and Henry administration. K. Bishop
has consented to accept said
The next of kin are hereby notified to ap¬
pear at tbe Court of Urdinatyan the ffiat
Mondv in March next, by ton o’clock a. m.
and show cause why said Henry B, Bishop
,h $3*i*° 0t Ordinary