Georgia Historic Newspapers

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CHAPTER Xf-Continued.
"Oh, my,” Mary added, as Mrs. Thom¬
son returned with the glass of milk and
a generous wedge of gingerbread, “this
Is what I call good." continued, after
"Do you know,”she n
tew moments’ silent enjoyment of her
refreshments, “I believe Westm has
really grown since i saw It last.”
"I don’t know about that, Miss, but 1
do know we are improving wonderful.
Bo many city folks come here for the
gummer. Next, year we are going to
have another hotel, and everybody that’s
sot a spare room is set on taking
boarders.”
“Are you?” asked M iry, setting down
her empty glass.
“Oh, no, Miss. I haven’t a corner.
Besides, I’m too far from the town,
Take some more udllc, Miss Mary.”
"No, thank you. You gave me such e
large glass.” She walked to the win¬
dow as she spoke, and glanced down the
broad, shady stre’et.
“You have to ne very pretty girls,’
plie added, after a second, as her eyf
followed two young ladies on horseback,
‘Are tlioso two natives or visitors?”
“Thom?” said the woman, looking iv
h< r turn. “They live here, That tall
one’s Miss Ellis. She goes to New
York a good part of her time, She’s
going to bo married in a few months.”
“All, is she? How happy she must
feel.* Looks, I mean.”
“People think she has reason tc
be happy. She’s going to do very well.
They say Mr. Beverly is a-”
"Mr. Who?” cried Mary, turning
quickly.
“Mr. Beverly,” repeated Mrs. Thom¬
son, slightly surprised at Mary’s tone,
“A mighty nice young man. He doesn’t
live her#, of course; he comes from New
York, and I dares iy when they’re mar¬
ried they’ll go there altogether.” She?
Mary still stood by the window. under her,
could feel her knees tremble
and a stange, numb sensation creeping
about her heart.
“Will you tell me this—this gentle¬
man’s name?” she asked, after a second!
striving to make her voice calm ami to
keep all emotion from her face.
"Christian uaqjo?” repeated the worn
• sn, knitting her brows in her effort to
remember. "I’ve heard it, 1 know, and
yet I can’t, somehow, recollect.”
“An uncommon one, perhaps,” sug¬ Lt
gested Mary, In strange voice, “ is
a
nothing like—Jack.”
There was a slight, lingering over this
(tame, as though she half feared to let. it
leave her lips, but Mrs. Thomson took it
up eagerly.
“That’s it, Miss,” she said, with de¬
cision. “Sometimes you know a thing,
but can’t just think at the time, and it
somebody mentions it--Ah, Miss,
what’s the matter? Are you ill?”
* Mary hud clutched the window for
support, but at the woman’s question
she stood upright again. ah red, pain¬
“No, no, not ill,” sue s we sit hero for
fully. “I may bo tired. I’ll
a few minutes, then I must bo going.
“You look rather pale,” was the some¬
what anxious reply. “Perhaps I might
P '“Timid!'von. U Nmhh.rm.uld nmke mo
f, el both r now. 1 think I am rather m
ir?«r 11 11 ..^ssi, T *zrs
. Beverlyr .. >,
name is
It-"nna’-wltor Mr’Vt.'-ifvo 'hi.
h , m.iniurs—
k ';;r■ iv;:
tlu :'V \i„ This
W ° ,OU Reason ,i,t r v
then, was the for his going tc
New York. How often during the hours
that she was not with him had he come
here to bo with her?
Of course ho had known her in Now
York, had perhaps boon engaged when
he came to Robin’s Rost. She had served
to amuse him. The world would oall it
a flirtation—nothing more, llo had been
amused and sho had boon a tool to
think him in earnest,
She could realize now liow mi rose rv
edlv she had given her heart to him;
how utterly she had staked her life's
happiness on the weight of his word.
llo had seemed so true, so earnest.
Even in the face of such overwhelming
testimony it was hard to doubt him
while she remembered his words and
glances. Mary never knew how she
reached home. Her pale cheeks awak¬
ened her grandfather's concern at sup
per. She pleaded headache as a cause,
und as soon as possible went off to bed.
Tho niglvt was filled with miserable
thoughts. Hour after hour passed, and
she tossed restlessly on her pillow-. that At
one moment she would tell herself
the no longer caivd; that Jack had quite
passed out of her heart and life; and at
the next she would pray that her walk
and its bitter revelations might prove
jmIv a dreadful dream. Oh, if she could
but w ake to fit ! the world as bright,
uni herself us happy, as hopeful, ami us
trusting as she had been but twenty
four hours before.
But morning found her siek and faim
from want of rest and sleep. said
“I must get up, though, she to
Herself. “They must not know. No¬
body must know. He has stolen my
happiness from me. Yes, stolen it. 1
was so contented here with grandpa un¬
til he came, and now- Everything is
to different. Ah. he had so much;
why should he have taken the only
mine J had?
“I won’t care, though,” she added, in
’ iignantly, dashing tear from her
a eye
! j if ‘I I must don’t not hate give him, up 1 must to this despise weakness
I must—I do him.” my
self. hate
Breakfast proved a most trying ordeal
Jeannette’s sharp eyes and her grand
father’s anxious inquiries were difficult
to evade, and when the meal was
scarcely half over she left the table witl
;he half-trembling words:
“Grandpa, don’t be anxious; I am per
fectly well, but there are times when J
•,annot bear your kindness, Pleas*
ion’t speak to me now.”
“There is something wrong,” said Mr.
Hillard, with a grave glance *. Jean
liette. “I never saw her act so strangely
before.”
“She doesn’t look over and abov *
well,” hadn’t was the answer, “and if she
seemed so blight yesterday morn
trig I’d say she and Mr. Beverly had
been a fussing, as they’ve been doing
the best part of the last three weeks,
but now I can’t make nothing of it. I
don't think it’s anything serious, though.
Nothing that won’t come right.”
Jeannette was rather surprised when
Mary came to her twenty minutes later,
and putting a note in her hand, said:
“Give it to Mr. Beverly when 3- 01
fomes to-day. If he does come,” 5“ V
added.
“Give it to him?" returned the old
woman, glancing from the note to Mary,
“What am I to do that for? I must say 1
don’t liko the looks of things.”
“Will you give it to him or not?” asked
Mary. “If you will not, I will take it to
Toby. ”
“I’ll give it to him; but I C
again, I don’t like the looks 1 hings.
Two hours later she put it C OL’
hand, with the words:
“I don't know what’s in it, sir. It may
be something not very pleasant; if it is,
don't mind it. Miss Mary lias more hu¬
mors than a eat has lives. It comes of
her grandfather ruining her when she
was young.”
Jack scarcely heard these remarks—
fie was reading his no e.
It was written in pencil, and contained
those words: “I write this to spare my¬
self the humiliation of ever seeing ox
speaking to you again. 1 have discov¬
ered all your miserable conduct, and il
you have one spark of manliness in youi
nature you will spare me the sight of
your face again.”
“Where is she?” he cried, hoarsely,
when ho had gathered the full meaning
uf the bitter lines. “1 must see her.”
“She’s gone riding,” replied Jeannette,
rather startled by ids face. “I couldn’t
ray where, sir. She’ll be coming back
Boon. I guess maybe you hud better
wait."
Jack -found this waiting miserable
enough. Dinner time came, and Mary
id I ! 0 ftp ffl fl Ct which so dis
turbed , 1 Mr. , Millard that . , he failed to no
iha* J«t“- u- ■■ .^Kegai e, caught
the first glimwee of the approaching
Prince.
He waited until ho was almost upon
him, and then starting quickly forward
grasped the bridle, bringing horse and
rider to a sudden and rather sharp
standstill.
“Do you know why I have stopped you
in this way?” he asked in a stern voice.
“No,” responded Mary, with darken
Ing eyes and a face from which every
particle of color had fled, 'unless you
ft ish to add another insult to your long
list. ”
“You shall explain what you mean b;
at,” he exclaimed passionately. “Ano
„
"He drew her note from his pocket arm
^ ht' c’ha,!«o passed over her face
- »*»« —
mother answer, ask your own con
. »
Klio jorkod hor brMI« from his hand.
>»d;fvmf,1’rmco a wart out, dashed
y^ss^sss.- ..........
Returning to the house he tore a sheet
t?f paper from his.note-book, and hastily
mrawlcd upon rt:
' 1 must see you.
* Jeannette carried this to Mary, and
returned looking both angry and per¬
plexed.
“She says you have her note, sir, and
jhe hasn’t anymore to say. I’m very
jorry, sir." added the woman, feeling
something was wrong, must be get
"Thank you, Jeannette. 1
ring my things together. 1 will nave to
wave you to-night." Mr. Millard
"Oh, sir, that s too bad.
(rill be so sorry. I suppose you couidu t
•hange your mind?”
“Impossible. And Mr. Millard must
think business calls me away, It will
lie better so.”
“Yes, sir; 1 understand. It’s a shame
Miss Mary’s temper-’’ replies,
“1 cannot discuss that,” Jack
with much pain in his voice, “It is
something more than temper, though;
I’m positive of that. I’ll find out what
in some way.” with
Mr. Millard saw Jack depart gen
nine regret. He had built many hopes
upon this visit, and their failure disap¬
pointed hint keenly. Ho
Mary's spirits worried him also.
ittributed her present melancholy to a
•ause perfectly natural under tho cir¬
cumstances. he
The idea gave him such pain that
leeided to take Jeannette into his eonti
ienee.
“I have been noticing Mary's indispo¬
sition," he said, in breaking the subject
to her, “and I have leared—it may be
piite groundless, I hope it is, but. yet it
Is possible—that she eared for Jack.
Give me your opinion. You should be
fcble to judge much better than I."
1 know this much, sir,”
Jeannette, unable to held back
-1 know she sent him away.
she cored for him or didn’t care for
he cal Aid Bote. she sent him away.
She w_ I don’t know’what
was whl ill ■ know it made his face
as ■shirt. He tried to see
her, left! bl ■n’t have it, and then
he ■-respecting young man
would.! The] L
face had undergone
various ■luring the progress ot
this sd ■ id when Jeannette con
rduded' her in pained sur
prise. 1 A
“I do -rstand it,” he said in a
n using I can’t understand it.” .
“No, , else. You might
no one
live to t dred and not understanr
Hiss Mi
Mr. Ml ^majped in deep though
if ter Je ’s communication, am
when Mi by him in the study tha
night, he i her, quite suddenly:
“My cl ji are not happy.”
“I Mary hav< 1 [way Sn low from spirits him. lately,” sh<
ejoined, fbutirfiall i” get it in daj
over a
two, if : try to bear with me <•
or yoo
little whibjb lonr, and not be loo goo 1
x> me.” \
“But why If”jT^Is shoi you be in low spirits;
VTary? a reason, surely, J
should know
Once Mary loo] >ained •ned and troubled
more s away.
“Grandpa, ifiaid at last, speaking
W
with an effc, When I have found a
reason whlctj in acknowledge But to my it
own self I tell it to you.
only hurts m peak of it now. In a
few days eve Itg will be as it used
to be. We 1 be happy together,
sha’n’t we? 'i |ly will ever come be¬
tween us now. fell whether Jeannette
“I can scare! i fong,” mused the old
was right, or reflecting on Mary’s
gentleman w' I
words.
.fter x.
“You won’t dt" 1 t ' no room down here,
sir There’s ain’t! one hotel in the place
and that thing to speak of; and
such us it is, toleston, iti full. Ther You s quite might a
big house up sir.
be able to put ughere. As i. s no great
ways, I can well,” drivf r<f’« ’ou.” d Jack, in a relieved .
" Very 1 bke getting back to
tone. “I don’t to-IIIft, IP must find
New York and I
some sort of aV,<rgiug. Get me tlieie
as quickly as yofnu ” and I’ll gwe y° u
your own price. led,” muttered the old
“Kind ’er unsj vJ Jack’s long, im
farmer, as he ihod
_ stable door.
patient strides 1 ore the
However, the l iggeetion of money
proved an ineenpe to extra exertion,
and the old horse*' as soon ready for the
road. „
“Now sir, hh W6 can start.
“Ail right, r mxmdcd Jack, jumping
into the somewlrt dilapidated-looking
vehicle. “I hopeyour horse is a goo
^Fah’ 5
’oQ r fair I can’t complain of
’ ' k
him” words. Light
Jack did not 1 these
ing his cigar he ianed back in his seat
and maintained na unbroken silence for
the rest of the jonney. add, they pulled u F
“At last,” ho >f as the worthy Mrs.
before the door
awaited f . lW> Mr. Shrimp hadn’t a
corner, she deUarec; with many regrets.
Peoplo had come down on her so, she’d
beon driven to find \ spo t for John and
herself. *
j ack regarded fronAsouth he With a helpless air.
“i have come ojtinding Weston,” he
sa id, “in the hope Sfw a room here.
[ might return incoj^enience to York, of course,
but tba t would mo great
Perhaps you can suggest some
house-”
Mrs. Shrimp shook her head. All she
knew of was full. There was the Mil
lers, with as nice and neat a room as one
might wish. The gentleman might have
had that. But then there was Mr. Mil
lor
“What about him,” interrupted Jack,
foreseeing a possible lodging.
“Nothing, sir. Except he s dead.
MUlVbSng ujtohe?’eai-s Couldn’t--” ^mourning
and sorrowing. not,” prompt
“Certainly was the re
spouse. “I didn’t dream the poor man
but might to return be dead- to Nt J see, \oih. there a nothing
.
youag man^who haq 1 been sittingon'the the
ather side of the room, laid down
paper lie held in his hand, and giving
Jack a scrutinizing glance, lelt his
chair. addressing
“I beg pardon,” he said,
himself to Mrs. Shrimp. “I have heard
enough of your conversation to under
stand that this gentleman is looking for
a room, and that yot, are unable to ac
commodate him. If he wishes to share
mine it is at his service.”
Mrs. Shrimp looked relieved and Jack
gratified. “Mr. Beverly’s room is one
M the best, Who’s?” sir, large, airy-” Jack with
“Mr. politeness. interrupted
more force than “I beg your
pardon, will you tell: me to whom I am
indebted?” is Beverly,” ( answered tho
“My name
young man.
“The devil!” said Jack
“No relation, I assure you. thougb l
im „-l
H shpw room.”
shall be happy to you my
“The gentleman will register first,
put in Mrs. Shrimp, With due respect for
this always ineisteci upon preliminary.
’Here, sir, if you pl<?ase." paused
Jack took up a pec(, but as a
thumping noise was heard in the next
bed last night tae’e, a little upset this
morning.” Appare ntly satisfied, Jack
lipped his pen into i n some rather thick
Ink, and wrote in ?* large, bold hand,
Jack Beverly.’ Mm. Shrimp, standing
I. hV«uAuon’J wi
apse: aiso.
ni * d * *
®ay *>« n S » Ycu’v ^° U '*
written Mr. Be ver 1} s name.
It Hav can .® t J* be helped, . for, iV^n-ivle if I may te a. a
lowed so to speak, h is mine, loo. A
you a Jack also, Mr. Beverly?”
“I am, sir, as big a one as you are.
A much bigger one than I ever thought
myself before. Come to my room, tor
heaven’s sake. I wan’t to talk to you.
i TO BE CONTINUED. 1
A Valuable Relic.
The second book printed in the En
frlish language was “Thc Game and
PI aye of the Chesse,” which the title
page says was “Fynyshid the last day
of Marche, theyer of our lord god a
thousande foure hundred and
LXXIIj.” Only twelve copies of the
^rk are now known to exist. In of 1813 Al
an Englishman by the name
cborne sold his copy for a sum equal
to 8270 of United States currency.
Fiftv-six years later, in 1869, the same
volume (an imperfect copy) was sold
for S2.150. The British Museum has
refused an offer of $10,000 for its
copy, which is imperfect to the ex¬
tent of having seven leaves missing.
Waste Steam.
A Western engineer has patented
a device by the use of which the
steam that is often allowed to go to
waste when a locomotive is standing
at a way station taking wood or
water, can be utilized for pumping
water for the tanks or reservoirs
around the station, It is customary,
at most large stations, to have a sta
t ionary engine and steam pump for
raising the water, but the inventor
claims by an arrangement this cost of
fuel is saved, while the cost of add¬
ing the improvement will be less than
l he cost of the pumping arrangement
now in use.
Condon Women Journa'ists.
There are said to be 18,000 news
London, T , who , , have
paper women in
t wenty-two press clubs and authors
societies among them.
There is no argument for religion In
heaven or earth that can persuade a
man w-ho will not give up his sins.
Some Christians are pious sponges;
only when tribulation squeezes them
the world is better because of them.
He who sows wild oats may expect to
gather chaff, as that kind of seed pro
duces no grain. The very straw is in
nutritious.
If an official meeting was composed
only of those actually at work, it would
often be a duet between the preacher
a nd the janitor.
Tbe grea test proof of the divinity of
Q br j S |j an religion is that its abuse
and mismanagement by its professors
hasn’t killed it long ago.
-
He Built the Bridge.
a Western railroad having its
quarters in Chicago was reorganized
^ ^ new officials were brought on
. tlie j£ast There was a readjust
evolved a system by which the duties
of every- employe were to be most clear
iy understood
r , Connors who had helped to
build bmid the road and who had been on the
pay roll „ for yeara, was advanced advanoM to o the ne
title of Master Mechanic and feupei •
tendent of Maintenance of Way.
About a week after his appointment
he was hastly summoned to the office
‘ „ T1(1 , vns { ,- iveJ1 aja order:
4 lo Jnh7 T1 } Connors ’ Master Mechanic
and Superintendent of f Ma1n Maintenance tenqnce of oi
Way: This is to inform you 11a •
vert No. 163, in section 14, one and
one-half (1%) miles east o<f Effner, has
been destroyed by fire. You will
proceed with all possible haste, to the
< :hi p f Engineer, who will provide yon
with the necessary plans and specifi
cations. By requisition on the Pur
chasing Agent you will be enabled to
secure such material as may be neees.
gaTy and the Superintendent of Motive
Tower will place at your disposal
There were other directions but av hen
John Connors had lead this tar lie
folded the letter and put it m is
pocket. c-all the W _
“That’s wliat we usod
cu t ver t,” said he. “I'll’tind to it.”
’ Mondaj
Tbqt „- as Saturday. On
morning the General Superiutendenl
came to his offiqg at lO o clock, -nshed pushed
a bell and directed the Private Sec
retary to order the Special Mossenget
to sum mon the Master Mechanic and
superintendent of Maintenance ol
Way.
John Connors came to the office.
“Mr Connors,’' began the General
Superintendent, “have you received
from the Chief Engineer the plans and
specifications for that new culvert ix
section 14?”
...... . „ .. the Mastei
Mecha^k- „n6 Su.krtn.eMeat .1 M*
tenance of May, the bridge is
and the trains have been runn.a sines
daylight, but I haven’t seen the picture
of it yet.”
-------—
where the Office Sought the Man.
Talk about Poo Bails, Representative
K£ST“ ” ’ he ‘ >riZi
-I once held six offices at the same
time.” he said yesterday to a reporter
**j n tbe early days of Fillmore City, in
mv gtate we actually had more offices
men, consequently I was City
K»»» a*
City Attorney, County Attorney, mean
Per of the Board of Education, and
member of the State Legislature. That
was a pretty good handful for a young
man not 22 years of ageA-Wo-ahing-ur
Post.
THE BEST PROOF.
Tour daughter, I fancy, plays as a
master.
Mother—She became engaged at the
piano.
BIKE DEFINITION".
i r. What is a labor of love :
( . Walking a damaged wheel back
over ten miles of desolate and rocky
road.”
her view of it.
“She has gained some rather un¬
pleasant notoriety, hasn’t she ?”
“Oh, I don’t think she regards any
notoriety unpleasant. ’’
as
KISSING ETIQUETTE.
Miss Spinster— “I think it very im¬
polite for a gentleman to throw a kiss
to a lady. Flippant—“So ” do I. Ha
Miss
should deliver it in person.’’
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL.
The self-made man was speaking,
He said: “My father was a raiser of
hogs. There was a large family of
as —” an( j then his voice was drowned
by the applause,
A CAREFUL JUDGE.
Wilton—Do you agree with David
that all men are liars ?
Wilby— How can I tell ? Just think
D f the "number of men that I never
jaw !
A CYCLE LACONIC.
Blonde—Oh, I guess one wheel is
as g 00( j as another,
Brunette (proudly and with empha¬
sis, after a glance from wheel to
wheel)—Better.
LITTLE PITCHERS.
“Daddy, can whiskey talk ?
“No, of course not.”
“Then why did Aunt Maria say it
was telling ou you more and more ?”
THE utility op athletics.
Benton—What’s the use of all this
athletic business in college life, any
how ?
Fenton—It makes the graduates
who can pass the mental examination
eligible for the police force,
PARADOXICAL.
Mrs. Swellington—Are you sure
thia ig tbe f as hion ?
Modiste—Oui, madame ! Ze ver’
[ ate st.
Mrs. Swellington (still doubtful)—
Queer ! It looks well and feels corn
fortable.
THREE DAYS NEEDED.
“It takes my wife three days to gc
to a picnic.”
“How’s that?”
“She takes a day to get ready, a day
to b cr o and a day to get over it.”
THE REAL TEST.
com
plxments galore for hailing killed one
of the biggest bears ever slain m the
Dead Paver region of Maine, lhe
true test of a woman’s courage is not
a bear, but a mouse,
NO NEWS.
Mrs. Gabb—“Yes, my daughter ap¬
pears to have married very happily.
Her husband bas not wealth, it must
be admitted, but he has family.”
Mrs. Gadd—“Yes, I heard he was
a widower with six children.”
HIS ENGLISH.
“I thought you told me your Eng
jiafi cousin was such a plain spoken
man —that he always called a spade a
spade.”
“Well?”
“Well, I find he doesn’t. He calls
it a spyde.
A RANK OFFENSE.
(4 * wg bave the p i eaS ure of you!
B this evening, Colonel?” she
i i
The Colonel drew himself up haugh
t jj y an( j replied with every evidence
offended dignity:
“Madam, I command a regiment.”
A LOVER OF BOOKS.
Philanthropist— ‘ ‘ Wbat brought you
to this place, mv man ?”
Convict—“It w-as all along of a
fondness for books, „
Philanthropist—“Ah, literary char
acter.”
Convict—“Pocketbooks, for in¬
stance.”
another bicycle symptom.
Bloomer—Bicycle eyes are the latest.
Sprocket—Hadn’t heard of them,
Indeed ? The eyes bulge out from
the head and are owned by people who
never ride bicycles, but who dodge
them.
GENTLE BEPROOF.
**j us t think of how fond the old
j a( j v j s D f gave croing to a funeral, and how
tev< : theTe been.”
“I know it. It’s gotten so now that
whenever she meets a man over seven¬
ty she looks at him reproachfully. ”
NOT RICH ENOUGH.
Stranger (niter nn —ion,
Well, doctor, what do you think?
have I got the gout ?
Great Physician—Hem ! Er—what
jg vour income ?
Stranger—Twelve hundred a rear.
Gre»tPhysicta-Xo, you've got a
gore foot.
NATURAL CAUSE,
“What was the cause of his ho
words ?”
“She burned some of his letters.”