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HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY.
J. A. FOUCHE, Publisher.
R. L. JOHNSON, Editor.
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! EDITORIALS
1
If prosperity kills the country, aver*
the Atlanta Constitution, what a cheer
ful funeral it will have!
The department of agriculture has
discovered the stingless honey bee. Out
upon it, exclaims the New York Amer
ican. What we are disposed to com
plain most about is beeless honey.
A Lapeer (Mich.) man in jail at
tempted suicide as soon as he heard
that his wife” Was doing the cooking
for the institution. lie must have re
garded his punishment as too great to
bear, suggests the Washington Post.
In the Tageblatt of Berlin Colonel
Gaedke, the German military critic,
Bcortches the army of his country for
the defects which it showed in the
great military manoeuvres directed by
the emperor. He declares that the
German soldiers are still living in the
memory of 1870, having made no ad
vance in military affairs since the
great Moltke overwhelmed France.
“Those 37 years,’’ he says, “seem to
have been lost for us, as if we were a
sort of sleeping beauty in the en
chanted wood and as if all the pro
gress of tactics were a mere dream.'*
*
Sir James Crichlon-Browne has
hunted up a new cause for alarm at
British degeneracy. In his presiden
tial address before a Banitary confer
ence at Llandudno he recently severely
criticised "the present craze In Eng
land for getting thin.” Asceticism in
eating he denounced as the most strik
ing folly of the hour, and one not only
causing widespread physical debility,
but leading directly to abuse of alco
hol and narcotics, the half-starved
votaries of the craze seeking by the
use of liquor and drugs to obtain the
feeling of well being and glow of
health normally produced by a hearty,
wholesome diet.
The indirect effect of an understand
ing, between Russia and Great Bri
tain, observes the New York Times,
would be to aid substantially in the re
lief of India from the burdens she has
in the past been obliged to bear. The
greater part of the military costs in
curred in India from apprehension of
Russian aggression have necessarily
fallen on the Indian treasury. While
the general development of adminis
tration in India has been in the direc
tion of lower taxation, better govern
ment, better transport, greater secur
ity from famine and from disorder, the
progress has not been as great as it
would have been had it not been need
ful to maintain the army at a level
dictated by the possibility of trouble
on the northwestern frontier.
Attorney General Bonaparte’s idea
that capital punishment should be in
flicted on habitual criminals even for
non-capital crimes is not original,
though he may have entertained it
for a long time, as he says. This
method of dealing with incorrigible
offenders, urges the Philadelphia Rec
ord, was advocated most earnestly
two or three decades ago by the late
Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, a bril
liant jurist and writer, who was at
torney general for India, and died a
judge of the English high court of
justice. Though addressing his argu
ments to a bench and bar which still
remembered a time when hanging was
the penalty for petty larceny, and by
which the right of appeal in criminal
case was not recognized, Sir James
made no converts. In this country ar
guments of similar trend would be as
effective as an attempt to talk down
A hurricane.
* /"XX *
A Ta1e....... t \ By
of the... zz YOUNG \ Henry
A nglo-Indian \ MISTLEY 5ci0n......
Secret Service \ _ / Merriman.
\ •fir /
CHAPTER IV. 3
Continued.
After a four years’ absence Mrs.
Mißtley‘s son was coming back, and
the day when lie had left was as fresh
in her mind as ever. She could recall
the very expression of his face as the
train moved away—a handsome, boyish
countenance,.with a peculiar rigid pur
ity of outline, expressive of too great
a degree of refinement for comfort in
this world. Lie had left England a
merry, reckless !>oy, with no great
sense of responsibility in life; and now
he was coming back a man, with a
name among his contemporaries, with
a definite purpose in life. She won
dered vaguely whether he would be
much changed, whether she would now
And him thoughtful and serious.
At last there was a bustle In the sta
tion, and a troop of porters assailed the
platform, arriving in the most aston
ishing manner from all sides. Then
the great locomotive came clanking in.
with a mighty sense of its own import
ance and general superiority over the
mere local engines around it.
A moment later Mrs. Mistley was
looking into that face she had sc
longed to see. Even amid the confusion
and excitement of the greeting, she
found time to marvel that there was so
little change in it—a little browner,
perhaps, with a hard, dry look which
spoke of great hardships borne man
ftflly, and testified to exceptional pow
ers of endurance.
“Where is Charlie?” were Winyard’s
first words. While his mother was ex
plaining that her lounger son would be
detained at Greenwich until later in
the day, the colonel approached with
Mrs. Wright at his side. No form ol
introduction was attempted; the old
soldier came forward with out
stretched hand, and as he took Mrs.
Mistley’s fingers within his, he bowed
with a peculiar old-fashioned courtesy
which conveyed a wondrous amount of
admiration ami respect.
“Mrs. Mistley!” he said, “I should
have known you anywhere. We car
ried a photograph of you in our dis
patch case for many months. I think
Winyard considered it the mosi
precious document there.”
“And which,” added that respeetfifi
youth, gayly, “the colonel left lyinc
about one night in the rainy season, (fit
consequence being that it all came un
gummed, and nothing was left next
morning to (he eyes of a bereaved son
but two sticky rolls of wrinkled paper,
one of which was found adhering tc
the person of a native dog. How dc
you do—Mrs. Wright?”
The young fellow’ became suddenly
silent, and turned rather hastily to And
the luggage. There were unshed tears
in Mrs. Wright's eyes, and perhaps he
was not quite sure of himself; at all
events, lie was by no means sure of
the colonel, who, like many brave men,
was afflicted wdth a soft heart.
Presently the two small boxes wert
found and placed tinder the care of a
porter, who shouldered them both at
once with much zeal. He saw how thf
land lay, and knew that his reward
would he greater than his deserts.
After having arranged that Mrs.
Mistley and her two sons should dine
with them in Seymour street that even
ing, the Wrights drove away, and
mother and son were left alone to
gether.
CHATTER V.
A Bloody Mission.
There is in the lamentably uninter- j
esting parish of Lewisham a long '
street where the numbers of the houses
attain to three figures. Standing at
the end of this street, one has before
one’s eyes a lesson in perspective.
No. 51 is occupied by Mrs. Gredge. n
Indy who, like the blind beggar, has
seen better days. After the manner of
elderly females of a brilliant past, Mrs
Gredge lets lodgings, and it is with hei
lodger that we have to do.
The yellow rays of sunset shone in
the sky over the roof line from No. 48
to No. 50, and lighted up the bare par
lor of No. 51 Prout street, Lewisham,
The hideous wall paper, reptesenting
innumerable baskets of impossible
flowers hanging from festoons of blue
ribbon attached to nothing, was shown
up in all its brilliant crudity by the
searching light.
Small portions of this flowery
abomination were hidden by framed
prints, of which the poor workman
ship and general vulgarity prepared
one for the information in the cor
ner of each, to the effect that they
were specimens of German enterprise
At the table in the centre of the
room sat a young girl. She did not
look more than twenty years of age
though at times the expression of hex
face was almost that of a woman ol
forty. From a low white forehead
her dull flaxen hair rose in a soft
curve before it yielded to the black
ribbon that bound it in a loop low
down on her neck. The light rested
softly on it, but failed to draw from
its smooth bands any gleam of life.
She wore it parted at the side and
brushed well back. Her delicatelj
cut face was pale, and there was a
peculiarly drawn look about her lips
wnich were very red. Mrs. Gredge
knew her lodger by the name of Miss
Marie Bakovitch; to many lovers of
music in London she was known as
the Baroness de Nantille.
The whole life of her being seemed
to be centered in her eyes. They
were intensely blue, with almost me
tallic gleam.
Before her on the table was a
newspaper which she was slowly
scannaing, column by column. She
followed the line of columns with a
pencil; not like one who is reading
word for word, but as if she were
searching for some particular news,
the rest of the printed matter being
indifferent to her.
Suddenly she laid down her pen
cil, and looked toward the window
with expectation visible in every fea
ture. She had not been mistaken.
From below came the sounds of hur
ried footsteps on the deserted pave
ment, then the creaking of an iron
gate.
She could hear the dista-nt tinkle
of a bell, and a few moments later
some one knocked hurriedly at her
door.
“Come in!” she said, in a quiet
voice, and she leaned back in her
chair without looking toward the
door.
A tall, graceful man entered the
room.
“Marie,” he said, "he has come!
He Is in London!”
The girl did not move nor look to
ward him; her eyes were fixed on the
yellow sky over the roof of No. 48.
"He has come! he is in London!”
she repeated after him, as if to force
the news into her own brain.
One white hand was lying idly on
the table, extended toward the young
man.
He took a step forward, and
raised her fingers to his lips. Then
he seemed to remember the shrine
in the corner of the room, for he
bowed before it, and crossed himself
rapidly but with reverence.
For some moments he looked at
the fair girl in silence; she was
slowly pressing the hair back from
her temples. Then he suddenly fell
on ilia knees at her side, and seized
her two hands in his. He forced
her passionately to look at him.
"Marie! Marie!” he exclaimed in
Russian; “for the love of Heaven,
give ui up! It is madness! His
life will make no difference; you can
do no good by the sacrifice of yours.
Think of your mother, your sister;
think of me! You can not love me,
or you would not hold to this mad
purpose!”
She looked down at his pale, mis
erable face with an expression which
any but a lover would have read as
fatally kind and affectionate.
“Yes, Ivan, dear,” she said, In a
faint, weary voice, "I love you. But
I love my country first. Oh, Ivan!
will you never understand what this
love of one’s country is? I reproach
myself again and again for filling
your brave heart so that there is no
room in it for patriotism. No, no;
a thousand times no! I can not give
it up. Think you that I traveled to
the south, then home to holy Mos
cow again, only to leave it in a few
days for this doomed land, to give up
my inspired purpose after all? No;
it cannot be. Let me think what
must be done. I am dazed, like the
hunter who suddenly finds himself
face to face with his quarry. Where
is he?”
“He is living with his mother in
Bedford Palace, London. Marie, I
will warn him if you do not listen
to me. It is my duty. I must save
you at all risk.”
“Ivan,” said the girl, with a pas
sionate thrill in her calm voice, “if
I thought you would warn him, I
should kill you now as you kneed
there! God who gave me this work
to do, will help me to execute it! Be
sides, has he not been warned, more
than a 3’ear ago, and he simply ig
nores it?”
“Then threaten him,” said the
young man, rising and walking to
ward the window.
“Threaten him!” retorted the girl,
shrugging her shoulders. “You do
not know these Englishmen, Ivan.
Threats are to them what oil is to a
smoldering cinder —it brings out the
fire that no one thought to be there.”
For some moments there was si
lence in the room. The young man
stood with his back toward his com
panion.
He was exceptionally tall, with a
slight droop in the shoulders, which
suggested a man of thought more
than of action.
His slim white hands rested on
the centre woodwork of the window,
and he was gazing abstractedly at the
deserted road, parched and grass-,
grown. Gradually there came life
into his eyes, the inward light reflect
ed from an alleviating thought with
in his brain.
He turned slowly, and his eyes
rested thoughtfully on the young
girl’s bent head for some moments.
"Marie,” said he at length, ‘if 1
swear to kill him, will you marry me
to-morrow? Let me call you wife
for one day, and I will be willing to
take the risk of getting away whea
—when it is done. We can go to
America; my art will keep us com
fortably there. See, I have only been
in England a few days, and I have
already sold many sketches. It is a
strange wry to win a wife, by assas
sinating a man whom I cannot but
admire.”
“Admire!” echoed the girl. “The
man—the individual does not come
into my i.ioughts at all. It is the
work he has done and will carry on
unless he is stopped; the harm he has
done to our country. What care I
if he be a scoundrel or a patriot,
young or old, beloved or alone in the
world? It is the same to me Ivan,
it is the pow’er within him I aim at,
uot the man himself. You cannot
realize what harm this 'man can yet
do. You are half a Nihilist, and
•hink that our country’s ruin will
be brought on by a succession of em
perors; they at least are patriots.
no, no; if you men would only com
oine, the whole world could do no
harm to us. It is the inw r ard rot
tenness of the people’s patriotism
that drags down Holy Russia!’’
“Wil you let me do it?”
“No, Ivan, I cannot. God gave me
the work to do, and I must not skirk
It. If He intends me to escape when
it is done, He will help me; if not, I
will take—what comes.”
Her blue eyes flashed w’ith the
fire of religious fervor, but she leaned
across the table and laid her hand on
his, as if to soften the cruelty of her
own decision.
The girl looked very frail and
nervous as she sat in the fading light.
There was, however, a strange, set
look about her mouth; her level, red
lips were pressed together with a
firmness betokening a marvelous de
termination for a girl of her phy
sique.
The young man rose from his seat
and walked to the window, pressing
the soft, straight hair back from his
forehead.
“If you forget your own mother,”
he threw’ back sharply over his
shoulder, “you cannot overlook his.
What has she done that you should
punish her? She is no doubt proud
of her son, w’ho, after all, has done
nothing but his duty, though God
knows be has done that well.”
“I think of nothing, Ivan —I think
of no one. All must be sacrified to
the good of the country! Am I not
wliiing and ready to risk my own
life—”
“And throw aside my love,” inter
rupted the young man.
“For the holy cause? Can you not
give up something, Ivan? Though I
married you, I could not make you
happy. It is not in me to be content
with the trivial occupations of a wife
and—a mother. I cannot rest now;
[ often think, Ivan, that there will be
no rest for me on earth.”
She spoke in a cold, weary voice/
as though the words were forced,
from her by some superior will, not
j emanating from her own being at all.
Then he came towards her with
both hands outstretched.
“Only marry me, Marie,” he
urged, in a voice hoarse w’ith sup
pressed passion. “Marry me, and all
will come right. Rest will come, and
peace—ah! and love, Marie; for you
do not love me now. I can see it in
j’our eyes. W r e will go away and
find a new home in a new land.
There we can watch things from afar,
for we can do no good; the sacrifice
of our happiness in the cause can do
nothing. It is not thus that th£ fate
of an empire is ruled. It is In higher
hands than ours; or, as some say, it
w’ill work itself out despite emperors
and statesmen, despite lives thrown
away and homes made desolate. If
there were work to do, I should be
among the first, you know that, Ma
rie. It is weary work to pasa one’s
life in idly waiting for a crisis that
never comes, but it is written, and
we cannot but obey. When the time
comes, there will be no call for states
men and politicianr; the people will
do the work, the people will find the
leaders. Ah, Marie! if you w’ould
only listen when I tell you that this
is not work for women, these are no
| thoughts for a woman’s mind!
; Everything in the past points to It,
everything in the present confirms
that God will not have such work
done by a woman's hand. He will
never bless such an undertaking.”
Mental resistance in woman is
usually totally without respect to
physical force. The man migh£ have
argued and persuaded till dawn, but
It would have been of no avail. The
frail girl as intent on her pur
pose as the most determined man,
and with the additional incentive of
a woman’s unreasoning belief in her
own convictions, which will not lis
ten to the .most direct and convinc
ing argument, while it laughs at
milder measures.
The man knew this, and yet, with
the stubborn calmness of his north
ern blood, he still sought to appeal
to her reason. At the same time, he
attempted to arouse in her some faint
reflex of the passion within his own
heart. He took her two hands again,
he drew her towards him, and, stoop
ing till the soft, wavy curls about
her temples touched his lips, he spoke
fervently and with flashing eyes that
vainly sought hers.
But she, forgetting that her two
hands were prisoners, that his arnt
was around her, and that his hunger
ing lips were close to her own, still
clung to her argument merely as an
argument, and not with the feeble re
sistance of one who has the faintest
; <iea of yielding.
(To tje continued.)
METHODISTS GROWING SOME.
Flattering Report Made at the North Geor
gia Annual Conference.
According to reports made to Rev. J.
G. Logan, statistical secretary, there
were twelve thousand one hundred and
thirty-four members added to the
churches of the North Georgia con
ference this year. This is an increase
of 500 over report of last year.
The grand total of money collected
in the conference is in round num
bers three-quarters of a million dol
lars, $733,152,000, being the exact fig
ures.
One thousand one hundred and thir
ty-four infants were baptized. There
are 802 houses of worship valued at
more than two million dollars. The
total membership of the churches in
the conference is one hundred ana
four thousand one hundred and thirty
seven. The net increase was 4,482.
There are 206 parsonages, whose value
is nearly four hundred thousand dol
lars. The report shows that the con
ference has 276 local preachers.
GOT PLENTY OF CHANGE.
Chicago Man Refused Certificates and was
Given 974 Silver Do lars.
Troubles of wealth weighed heavily
on the hands of Peter Calahan, a cit
izen of Chicago, because be aiu nnt
want Milwaukee bank certificates. Mv_
Calahan went to one of the Milwau
kee banking institutions wheie his
personal note for $25 was due
ft Take the change out of that? ’ com
manded Mr. Calahan, handing out a.
SI,OOO bill.
He flatly refused scrip. Finally, he
visited an attorney, who effected an
agreement, whereby he was paid in
cash. The cash was counted out. It
consisted of 974 silver dollars and some
small change, weighing 60 .pounds.
BANKER GIVEN FIVE YEARS.
Sentence Suspended to Allow for tlie Pro
vision of His Family.
Louis M. Dyke, president of the for
mer Attalla National bank, at Attal!a ;
Ala., charged with misappropriating
funds, entered a plea of guilty before
the federal court at Anniston Friday.
The court sentenced him to five
years in the Atlanta penitentiary. Bond
of SIO,OOO was taken and the sentence
for six months in order to allow’ the
defendant time to make provision for
“is family.
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