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THE GOLDEN SIDE,
There’s many a rest on the road of life, There is many a gem in the path of life,
If we could only stop to take it; Which we pass in idle pleasure,
And many a tone from the better land, That is richer far than a jewelled crown,
If the querulous heart would wake it. Or the miser’s hoarded treasure.
To the sunny soil that is full of hope, It may be the love of a little child,
And whoso beautiful trust ne’er faileth, Or a mother’s prayer to heaven, '
The grass is green and flowers are bright. Or only a beggar’s grateful thanks
Though the wintry storm prevaileth. For a cup of water given.
Better to hope, though the clouds hang low, Better to weave in the web of life
And to keep the eyes still lifted, A bright and golden filling,
For the sweet blue sky will soon peep And do God’s will with a ready heart,
through, And hands that are swift and willing,
When the ominous clouds are rifted. Than to snap the delicate silver threads
There was never a night without a day, Of curious lives asunder,
Nor an evening without a morning; And then blame heaven for the tangled
And the darkest hour, the proverb goes, ends,
Is the hour before the dawning. And sit, and grieve, and wonder.
—M. E. Crouch."^
t i ij
In the Garden of Romance.
F iGt'S i:, su.
$
HE fact that he was
riding a bicycle
should have kept
him to remember¬
m romance, ing living that in he an But was age not he of
tip!.. forgot it. And to
live in the midst of
a matter-of-fact
1 world and forgot
that it is such is
w'hat makes moat of
the tragedies of that world.
There were excuses for him, of
course. The first, that he was young;
the second, that he was care-free, and
the last—and as the nursery rhyme
has it, the beat—that he had come
from the early spring of New York to
that, of Southern California.
He had ridden through willow paths
along the gravel roads that a month
before had been the b§d of the San
Gabriel; he had crossed the shallow
gleaming branches of the stream time
and again; ho had looked from the
green swell of the divide over as green
a valley, whore wild flowers were
thick on the ground and where peach
and almond trees made pink and white
patches. Just across the valley the
mountains were half covered with
snow, but the air was warm from the
sea and the sky was bright blue. So
there was excuse for bis forgetting the
bicycle and thinking the world a place
for romance.
A place for romance, but there can
be none without a woman. And there
was no woman.
He coasted down the incline of the
divide and made for the Monte road,
by tros-bordered byways and paths.
There was not a flake of dust in the
splendid air. All kinds of picturesque,
Old World things ought to happen.
In a garden of, this sort man ought
certainly not to be alone. Some nymph
should come : dripping and glittering
out of the zanja; some slender figure
should push its way through the high,
green barley and the fluffy branches
of the peppers and stand beside him.
He forgot the barbed Avire fence be¬
tween the barley field and the road.
The grasses and flowering weeds and
the peppers hid it. But the zanja
rippled and purled on, the barley
waved in the Avirnl from the sea, and
the sun gleamed on an uninhabited
world.
Then a bell rang out, just ahead, by
the road side, and the silence of the
spring high noon Avas filled Avith the
voices of children and young girls.
The woman entered the garden. She
was neither nymph of zanja nor sprite
of the field, only a black-goAvued school
girl, Avko stood on the sohool house
steps and Avaved a handkerchief at the
passing tourist. The tourist was a man
and young—which Avas all the school
girl oared about. The girl was pretty
and AvilloAvy—which Avas all the man
cared about. He raised his cap and
motioned to a clump of trees down the
higkAvuy. Of course she would under¬
stand.
It Avas all a part of the romance
and the country, and she understood.
She left the calling, screaming chil¬
dren and her older companions and
strolled toward Avhere he sat, on the
grass under the trees. It was out of sight
of the school house. He watched her
black, lithe figure moA'ing through the
flecked Bunshine that came in through
the plumy branches of the peppers.
They were all alone in the midst of
spring and the garden, birds were sing¬
ing from the earth, the sun Avas shin¬
ing from the sky, and the soft wind
bleAv from the sea beyond the valley.
The snoAvy mountains Avere far aAvay,
and the world on the other side of
them yet further.
Her name, she said, was Alicia.
How sweet the double e’s of the vowels,
how different the stern Nelson to which
he had to confess. But even that was
pretty when she said it. How old Avas
she? She was fifteen. The heroines
of the poets were that age. Where|did
she live? Some vague Avay over there
among the pink blossoms. He re
membered that when he was a child
those questions had always ^begun an
acquaintance: “What is your name?
How old are you? Where do you live?”
AU the wisdom he had accumulated in
the years between then and now had
vanished. He did not want it. He
forgot that he had meant to reach the
hotel of the valley by luncheon time,
He was not hungry; but Alicia was.
bhe put her plump brown hand into
her pocket and brought out a news
paper roll. Inside of the paper there
was a tortilla and boiled meat. She ate
these while she talked to him, and
when she had finished she started to
draw the back of her wrist across her
mouth; but remembering the teachings
of school and the presence of the for¬
eign young man, she took out her
handkerchief. He had meant to ask
for that haudkerchief, the white signal
which had fluttered in the air; but he
saw that it was grimy and ink-spotted,
so he asked for the wire ring she wore
instead. Alicia parted with it as
though it had been very precious.
Then she brushed the crumb3 from
her black frock and stood up. “I
must go now,” she said, with an accent
that kept the words from being com¬
monplace.
“First tell me where you live,” he
asked.
She pointed over to the patch of
feathery pink, “In the white house
in them trees.”
“What is your father’s name?”
“Mateo Manzelo,” she answered,
winding one of her heavy braids
around her hand.
“I will come to see you to-night,”
he told her.
“Yes,” she murmured, with musical
indifference, as she Avent leisurely up
the pathway and never once looked
back.
The man rode on to the hotel and
returned to real life as he asked if a
valise and a trunk had come and if
there were any letters for Nelson
Cameron. There was one. After he
had had bis luncheon he sat on the
long piazza, from which the snow¬
capped mountains could be seen
through the climbing roses, and read
it. But the letter was dull, and the
memory of the brown liair and eyes
that had always) seemed the most beau¬
tiful in the world paled beside that of
two soft black braids and two orbs as
soft and as black. There was a vague
promise that the owners of the brown
hair and eyes might be in California,
too, ere long. Cameron was not so
pleased as he tried to think he -was.
He began to imagine tho meeting of
that night.
It came about. Old Manzelo and
his fat, black-wrapped wife did not
object to him in the least. He walked
for hours up and down She moonlit
road, with Alicia’s hand in his and
went from her—a Lord Lovel on a
steed of glittering steel—at midnight.
The poison was in his blood. He
bad eaten of the lotus, and he forgot
homo and \ho past. He gave reckless
rein to the course of young blood.
And so a fortnight passed away.
There were no more letters. They
were being sent to Santa Barbara,
where he had told the brown-eyed
girl that the first weeks in March
would find him. He had not written
to her. He had meant to. But it was
the land of poco tiempo.
In pursuance of the romance he was
living, he one day put on the dirty
overalls and coat of old Manzelo and
Avent with Alicia to the San Gabriel
railway station to Avask and pack
oranges. Alicia Avas dressed in faded
dark blue, Avith a yellow handkerchief
around her neck and a pink boAv in
her hair. She was very pretty, and
vei’yopen in accepting the open devo¬
tion of the American. It Avas still just
a lark for him. It was rather more
for her—a little more.
A tally-ho drove up to the station
and the driver stopped it, that his
party of tourists might watch one of
the really picturesque scenes left to
the United States. Some of the Avash
ers looked up. Cameron and Alicia
Manzelo were talking together aud
did not. Both Avere gaziug light love
into each other’s eyes, The boss of
the gang caine up to the tally-ho with
a handful of oranges. The finest one,
all wet and glistening with its scrub¬
bing, he offered to the girl on the
front seat.
“Thank you. What a splendid
one!” shepiaised. ^1 am so thirsty
that it will taste good,
“May I peel it for you?” he asked,
with an inflection that showed him
English at once.
He had not offered to peel them for
the others, but this was a very beauti
ful woman, with brown hair and a
skin that reminded him of the women
at home. While he prepared it, she
looked at the workers. And when he
handed it to her:
“Thank you,” she said again, “and
can you tell me who that man by the
j ! girl in the blue gown is? He is evi
dently not a Mexican.”
ETe pondered why she should car®
to know, but he answered:
“No; he is an American. All I can
tell you about him is that his name
seems to be Nelson. It is what the
girl calls him.”
“The girl?”
“Yes. It’s a picturesque flirtation,
I gathered from her father. It has
been going on for some weeks, and the
old man says Nelson, or whatever his
name really is, means to marry her.
But it is unsafe.”
“Very, I should say,” said the girl,
reflectively.
“They rarely do, these whites that
make love to pretty Mexicans, ” added
the Englishman.
The pretty Mexican cast up her
dark eyes just then and took notice of
the tally-ho. She had known it was
there all along, but she had not been
interested in it.
“The lady on the front watch you,”
she murmured to her companion.
Cameron glanced up. He caught
the unfaltering look of the brown eyes,
and the scales—the rosy scales of ro¬
mance—fell from his own. He
dropped the orange that he held into
the water in his tub and started to the
tally-ho. But he took only a step,
then went back. The girl on the front
seat had turned to the others.
“Can’t we get out for a while? I’m
sure we are all cramped and tired, and
I should like to watch this pretty scene
for a bit.”
The Englishman helped her down,
but she thanked him and walked away.
Her manner implied that she would
make her own investigations. She
wandered among the boxes and the
tubs and trays, hazarding a word to
the washers here and there. Most of
them did not understand her. She
came up finally beside Cameron’s tub
and spoke to him. The on-lookers
fancied that she might be asking how
many oranges he had cleaned that day.
Alicia, a half dozen feet away at the
end of the tray, was unconcerned. So
the Anglo-Saxon conducts his tragedy.
“It is evidently more attractive here
than in Santa Barbara,” the fair Amer¬
ican said, in cool, placid tones.
Cameron stammered.
“I can’t blame you. It breaks my
heart, of course. But that can’t be
helped. I can stand it—and better
now than later. Only I cared for you
a great, deal—a great, great deal.”
She stopped.
“Don’t you now?” asked Cameron
baldly.
“Yes. I suppose I always shall,
too. But, of course, I shall never
see you again.”
He started to protest, a little out¬
raged in feelings at her severity.
“Please don’t make a scene,” she
said, anxiously. “It won’t do any
good. You ought to know me well
enough to know that.”
Cameron reflected that Alicia would
have screamed, and cried, and stabbed,
perhaps, but would have forgiven.
That was her Latin blood. This girl
was Anglo-Saxon. She would never
forgive, but neither would she ever
forget. He understood—he was of
her race. So he kept silence.
“Did you tell her yon would marry
her?”
“Yes.” He did not attempt to
evade.
t ( Then you will keep the promise,
.will you not?”
He did not answer.
“I must leave that to you,” she
finished. “If you think you should,
you Avili do it. Good-by.”
The cool possessors of hot young
blood parted after the manne\’ of the
well-bred of their kind. Tne girl
drove aAvay through the country of
romance. She Avas in Elysian fields
aud her heart and soul were in hades,
but no one kneAV that.
The man washed his fruit in silence
Avhile the little daughter of the land
stood beside him, patiently waiting
for him to speak. When he did, he
said:
“We shall be married in a week at
the mission, Alicia.”
“Yes,” she answered, pleased.
And the romance Avas closed.—
Argonaut.
Sense of Touch Wanting.
One has heard of heartless women
and Avornen without feeling, but that a
human being can exist without any
sense of touch seems marvelous. Yet
that is claimed for Mrs. Evartina
Tar do, a young widow in the West In¬
dies. Physicians who have known her
case pronounce it a physiological
freak. She is said to be wholly with¬
out feeling, has swallowed poison,
been shot, bitten by rattlesnakes, re¬
ceived a puncture in her heart from a
doctor’s lance and had her neck dis
located, all without experiencing any
pain. Besides these experiments, she
can without injury drink benzine and
light the gas at a hollow needle which
pierces her cheek. This strange as
ae j-tion is backed by the word oi ■
physicians of repute. As a child she
was bitten by a oobra, and it is claimed :
that her sensory nerves were paralyzed
and her system inoculated with
poison.
Could photoersph « Block or Hon>««.
What is to be the largest photo
graphic camera in the world is at
present being made to the order of a
Dublin firm. The case of the instru
rnent measures seven feet six inches
long by six feet high and is of richly '
carved oak. The lens is of special I
manufacture and will cost about
THROUGH GEORGIA.
The coroner’s jury at Atlanta freed
old man Zion Bridwell of the suspi¬
cion of murdering his wife. Some of
the evidence at the inquest made the
case against the old man Bridwell
rather suspicious, but altogether it
cleared the feeble-brained old man of
all complicity in the crime.
Savannah is much wrought up over
the latest street car grab. Recently all
the car lines went under one manage¬
ment. A day or two ago the council
gave the new company such valuable
privileges and so protected them from
competition in future that the citizens
are up in arms against their action.
The resolution recently introduced
by Representative Knowles, of Fulton,
in the house of representatives provid¬
ing for a uniform system of quarantine
laws under federal control is meeting
with hearty approval in both branches
of the legislature. The Savannah rep¬
resentatives will oppose it on the
grounds that it would be unwise to give
the United States marine hospital ser¬
vice full control of the quarantine reg¬
ulations in preference to those who are
directly interested. Outside of Savan¬
nah, however, the measure is meeting
with the general approval of the legis¬
lature.
The hosts of the confederacy are to
be clad in gray again. And the women
of the south are going to do the cloth¬
ing. What was done in the days
when the land was stirred with strife
will be repeated this year. Survivors
of the southern army are going to be
uniformed, and the women are going
into the business of making up the
gray suits once more. It is a novel
plan and a novel repetition of what
was done in historic times. This de¬
cision was reached at the recent meet¬
ing in Atlanta of the commanders of
the survivors’ association of the state
of Georgia.
* * *
The most disastrous fire ever seen
in Moultrie occurred last Saturday
morning about 5 o’clock. Twelve
business houses, including one livery
stable, one blacksmith shop and one
dwelling, were burned. The fire was
first discovered in the “Brilliant sa¬
loon,” about midway the block, and
spread rapidly north and south, and
along East Broad street till the entire
block was swept away, and all efforts
to check the progress of the fire were
futile. It looked for a time as if the
entire town would be destroyed. The
fire department, fought the flames
valiantly. The loss will aggregate
$30,000.
The board of inquiry in the case of
Captain O. M. Carter, corps of en¬
gineers, Avho A\ r as charged Avith irregu¬
larities in the management of the river
and harbor works in Savannah harbor,
has come to an end and it is expected
that the report of the findings of the
board will reach General Wilson, chief
of engineers, for his indorsement in
the course of a day or two. Captain
Carter is noAv in Washington attached
to the bureau of military information
and still retains his assignment as mil¬
itary attache at London. No changes
Avili be made in these details, pending
the final action of the Avar department
in his case.
Mr. James E. Brown, the newly
appointed librarian, assumed the du¬
ties of his office last Saturday. The
bond of $20,000 Avas approved by the
goA r ernor, after which Mr. Brown was
sworn in. The new librarian is busy
acquainting himself with the affairs of
the office and shaking hands with his
numerous friends. Captain Milledge
will be retained in the office until the
1st of December and probably until
the 1st of January. Captain Milledge
has held the office of state librarian
nine years, and has given eminent
satisfaction to all. Mr. Brown, the
nevv librariab, starts on the discharge
of his duties Avith the esteem and con¬
fidence of all that know him. He
states that he will make no immediate
changes in the office. Miss JeAvett, the
assistant librarian,will retain her place
until the 1st of January and may prob¬
ably continue after that time.
Grady Reynolds, the murderer of
Hunt, seems to have grown tired of
confinement in the jail at Jefferson¬
ville. Plans for his escape that had
been most carefully laid were thAvart
ed a feAv days ago only by a mere
chance, and the jailer at Jefferson owes
h* 3 the flimsiest of accidents,
He happened to go into the jail and
passed Reynolds’ cell. Reynolds was
intent upon some object, and did not
notice the sheriff. The officer watched
closely and saw that Reynolds had a
knife in his hand—a keenly sharp
blade and bright as a razor. Summon
ing help, the officer went back to Rey
nolds’ cell and demanded the knife.
Reynolds firmly and grimly refused to
gj ve U p weapon, He glanced
menacingly through the bars and
swore that he would never give up the
weapon. At first he denied having it,
but when faced with the announcement
that it had been seen in his possession
i ie admitted knife it. Finallv, after some
trouble the was secured,
BY THE MARSHES.
end
And dark against the sunlit skv
The golden plover fly. y
*3^5,
And zigzag traced, from left’ to ri-ht
Darts by a jack-snipe’s flight. ° *
Here bask the shy and weary teal
Beside the pool’s dim edge
Here water-hens all noiseless steal
Among the waving sedge.
And bitterns in the inmost brake
Stand solitary, line a stake.
Wide stretches steeped in sylvan calm
Wind Beleaguered by the sun;
’balm UthWeSt winds ’ with touch lik
Green grass and rushes dun;
And wheeling through the far-off skv
The golden plover fly. ”
—Ernest McGaffey, in Woman’s Horn
Companion.
HUMO R OF THE DAY.
Hard money—The money you try t<j
borrow.
Never waste your time; waste some
body else’s.
and Handled forks, generally. without gloves— Knive]
She—“And were you successfa
with your first case, doctor?” HeJ
“Y-ye-es. The—er—widow paid thd
bill!” 1
“The mills of the gods grind slow
ly,” remarked the philosopher,
“Geared too low, eh?” queried the cy¬
clist.—Puck.
“Drink to me only with thine eyes”?
The poet was a sage, I wist.
The things one drinks with but one’s eyes
Are least expensive on the list!
—Harper’s Bazar.
“Time works wonders,” said a sold
dier, aged thirty-seven, when he re-1
turned home from India and found
his cutta twin Critic. sister only eighteen.—Cal]
“Were your wife’s pictures satisfacl
tory?” “Good pictures enough, bu:
not at all natural, >> << What was the de
raphertook feet?” “Why her the while fool she of a photogl
was looking
pleasant.”—Philadelphia Bulletin.
“I don’t hear Jones love prating anjj
more about his great for little
children.” “Jones has moved into ai
house that has a vacant lot nest door,
where the boys of the neighborhood
play ball daily.”— Indianapolis Jour¬
nal.
“Why this sign not to touch this
particular piece of statuary with canes the
or umbrellas?” asked a visitor at
art exhibit, “Because,” snapped
competing artist, “you could only do
justice to it with an ax.”— Detroit
Free Press.
Bridget has a kitchen full of her
company, Mistress (from the head
of the stairs)—“Bridget!” Bridget—
“Yis, mum.” Mistress— “It’s ID
o’clock.” Bridget— “Thank ye, mum;
an’ will yez be so koind as t’ tell me
whin it’s 12?” -London Tit-Bits.
Why a Swelling: Follows a Flow.
The swelling which follows from flj
blow is nature’s effort to protect the!
part from further injury and to keep it
at rest while repair is going on. Y kaw
jury actually is not takes place at quite the understood.I seat of inj
even now ics-j
The injury to the smaller blood
sels interferes with the flow of bloo 1
through them and the white corpuscles!
with part of the serum - the watering
part of the blood, escap into the surd
rounding tissues. At the same tim
the blood vessels in the neighborhood
dilate and the increased flow of blood
with the thoroughfare obstructed in 1
creases the swelling. that the white J 1
It is probable blood into > n«j
puscles of the pass wea
tissues to assist in the repair, as
or ants assemble at an injury differ o j
storehouse, but with this
that the substance conrertea of MO* the corpuse J
probably From
repair. is one only o gigantic!
human body & swelling
that follows injury but the rush on
these to repair the breach.—Phi- a 1
delphia Times.
The Poultry Industry.
Our enormous wheat ° rop ’ >j
extolled in every journal m the >c
try, and which excites the -J J
of the world, is equalled by ^'
of the poultry and eggs P r0< J
the United States, the eggs andpo,1
try finding home markets * OOO.OoS J
wheat cents a crop bushel is the about ^ v * , n J
a year. The census
teen years ago) showed
poultry and eggs to be v- • 3
and enumerators yet it is were doubtful able if g ^ L fu l1
To-day * » kn0T vU
number or value. j
that the poultry industry i
one-third larger than in -300,1 J
that the value of the P° altr ^
country u ,
produced in this J J
000,000, which places it
other leading mdustr
many and Fireside.
Farm
U was not'until
those used England in this country Fnace^ je ^
from or
trade is such a large eontaiai n 3|
50,000 packages, eacu
:
twenty-four demand pms daily m >e Tor fc a-<3 ’ P
sale
