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YOL. XVIII.
ATLANTA. GA.. TUESDAY MORNING JANUARY 11 1887
PRICE FIVE CENTS
MEW YEAR’S PRESENTSFOR ALL
We call attention to oar plan for distributing
Hew Year's presents to onr friends, described on
■the last column of page six of this week's Issue.
Wo want every subscriber to share ti these
presents. ’
The Jilan is simple. Yon send ns a new sub
scriber. Your name is at once written on a tag
-and put in our New Year's box. On February 1,
•the box is shaken and the tags mixed up, and a
committee draws out a tag. The namo on that
tag gets the $100 present. The second tag the
$50—and so on till all the presents are taken.
Of course every person who sends a subscriber
trill not got a present, but every one will
have an raUAL ciiance. The lady who sends
■one subscriber may get Hie $100. Somebody
•euxxLY WILL. Why not yon? Bemember
your name goes in once for every subscriber
yon scad; and once for your own subscription.
If you send flvo subscribers at one dollar each
you get one of our superb pictures freo. Tor
five subscribers at $1.00 each, by adding $1.03, a
watch and chain. For ton subscribers at $1.00
■each, a watch and chain free. In each cate
your name goes in our New Year’s box for overy
came you send.
K owwe urge every subscriber to he repre
sented in our New Year's box. There is not one
of the 83(000 subscribers this week who cannot
yet one subscriber—that ono subscriber may get
you $100. The box is closed January 31st,
promptly.
Our Story Corner
The Secret of a Locket.
By Kate Woodbrldfo Mlchaclli.
Eighteen yenrs ago there weren't many young
men here in Forum, and a courtship was an
-event—mine had hardly counted, because
George and I had kept company ever'since I
could remember. Jle uscd to take me to school
•on roy filed in tho winter and in the samtner
we’d go nutting—then when wc got oldor he’d
lake me to prayer meeting and singing school,
60 when Ids father took him in with him I
wasn't even surprised to have him say:
“Kitty, haven't we waited about long enough
—let's get married Christmas night when alt tho
.greens aro in the church and then every year
we’ll keep onr anniversary with all the world."
We wero so closo to each other, somehow,
that I just raid yes without waiting to make
•excuses and find out objections that I knew
were nothing—as girls often do, just to bo
ccaxcd—I was glad to beloug to him, body and
soul, nnd I’ve gone on being gladder every
year till now.
But that has nothing to do with the wedding
that's coming off this Christmas! He asked mo
•ono afternoon in the Indian summer when wc
•all bad a picnic—’we girl*,’ as Mrs. Whitney
:«ays, Laura Daintrc, her cousin Louis, a young
naval officer who was staying at tbo Judge's till
he should get his orders; old Dr. Meredith's
new partner, young Dr. Horton, and some of
the child rcu that wo'd brought along to run
orrands und wash dishes. As 1 s.tid before, there
were so few men that wo would lisvo boon real
put out if they—tho two new ones—had spont
all their sparo time at any one house, os they
«lld at the Jonsons’, if it hadn't been that
everybody loved Bose, except Julio. It was
<{ucer about Julia, for tho hid always had tho
1>est of every thing at her aunt's. r ’Uiveitt>
Julia, mamma,’’ Rose would say, “I have you
and she—’ has me, too, I hope," Mrs. Johnson
always answered, bat she gave first choico to
Julia, too.
John Horton was awfully iu love with Bose,
ho showed it In every look and word-but we
were not so sure about Louis, first it was Bose.
. I have seen him look at hor with nil his soul iu
his eyes, nndthenit was Julia: nobody could
have blamed him—not knowing her as we did—
if it litd been Julia, for sho was tho handsomest
girl 1 ever raw in my life. Her uncle nsed to
call her "fire*fly,’’ and It salted her. That day
It was Bose, ana Julia was ns block as thunder,
file tried to flirt wth John, but it was no use-
then she sulked. I didn’t see so much of tho
men after that—tho girls were in and out all tho
time—beraaso I was making my things, we
hadn’t so many ready made things then and a
bride had a chance to take a good many stitches
with needles threaded with love, as well as
thread, in "getting ready.’’ One night, jnst
four days before Christmas, we were all over at
the Johnsons’, when the Judge came ovot with
telegram for Louis—his ship was to sail at
once and be must go to-morrow. We were all
drradfiil sorry to loso him, and as much
chocked as if wc hadn’t been expecting it for
weeks.
In the hubbub of voices I guess I was the only
one that noticed how quiet both Rose and Julia
were, but when we were going I was the last
out and Louis managed to leave bis cap and
•come back for it. In tho hall, in tho dark, he
ran against Bose and I heard him my very softly:
"Miss Bose’’ (she was the ouo then, as 1 had al
ways thought) "are you sorry to have ifie go?"
She didn’t say a word, but presently I heard
her sobbing as if ber heart wonld break and
then Louis whispering: "O, Rosie, my little
•darling, then you do love me." Then there
•came callfi for "Loots,” and he kissed her again
-and again, loosening tho little hands from his
•coat and whispering: "Tomorrow, darling, to
morrow.”
The next morning Rom was to go with me to
•do my last shopping and I found her white as a
candle, but she didn’t say a word. We went to
If yen’ to have my earring fixed and there oil
ihe counter was a beautiful locket all flashing
with diamonds. Woman like, I took it up and
•on one tide was "best beloved" and the date,
under it was lying on the counter the best pho*
tho beautiful bare brown nock was a lockot set
with diamonds; a locket thst we, Bose and I,
knew held Louis Dalntro's picture. "A Christ
mat gift,” she said, when they all admired "
Poor little Bom!
„ I have been mad ever siuce to think that,
- we drove off to tho station, all theold shoes ll.
lug alter us, the first word I ever said to my
husband that all the world couldn't hear was:
"Isn’t that Julia Somers n cat!"
I suppose you will blame Rose for marrying
John Horton in the spring. 1 did at fir$t. but
when I found lie knew aU about it and tbuud,
too, that from the minntc she marriod him. you
wouldn't have thought Roeo had ever i
another man, I forgave her, sho knew John
too good for a makeshift. That summer Julia
Went to live with an old uncle and we quite for-
S ot her till moro than two ycara wo heard of
cr marriage to a rich old man who adored hor
and whom she tolerated a* she did the baby that
caroo after awhile. Things went on vory quiet
ly with us nil in theso days. Boso was os happy
as she could bo with her husband and two little
boys. I told her one day that I had just beard
of the death of Ixrais’ wife. He married in
England about two years after wo did,and she
raid "poor fellow, 1 am so s;rry,” in such away
that I know tho old days woro dead.
About ten years ago tkero camo a dispatch
from Julia's husband begging Rose to comoat
once as Julia was dying and calling for her all
the time. Rose went by the next train and
stayed until after tho funeral. When sho came
home we found that sho didn’t want to mention
Julia, bo her name died away again. Two or
three years after Captain Dnintre came on to
visit his uncle who was failing fast; wo met him
in the stTeet and he was very glad to see me,
though ho hardly spoke to Rose. As he was
turning away sho put out her hand, "Captain
Dnintre,” she said very sweetly, "my husband
is away or he would liavo called upon you and
asked you to come and sco mo. 1 have some
thing to say to yon, will you come homo with
us now?”
Louis drew himself op very stiffly. "I can
hardly think," he said, "that Mrs. llortiou Can
have anything to say tome. You must excuse
me.”
"Captain,” Rose raid, very earnestly, "I have
a menage for you from tlio dead.” Then he
turned and went home with us in perfect si
lence. We went into tho library where Bose
left us, coming back presently with a bundle of
old letters and a little leather case.
"When Julia was dying,” she raid, "sho sent
for me and give me these; tho furowell letter
ycu wrote me, telling your love; the lookstaUo
had promised to place in my hnndsns your first,
your betrothal gift; the letter I havo never
seen, the locket I had seen only on her neck.”
Louis gave a great start, but she went qulotly
"She told me of her ndvico to you to send
your letters to her, as I hod confided my l
cr, and my parents would bo angry, thinking
tre
Julia called it, and afterward Rose took me up
to he r room; she had a headache, she raid. We
hardly spoke to each other, and as the afternoon
went on Itotc got as nervous as a cat and could
hardly ait still.
The sun was going down and the room all full
•of golden sunset light, when Julia cameKud-
plenty iu—it was her room, too—starting when
she raw us. "You at home, Rose,” she aaid;
"why, I told Mr. Daintre you were out with
Kitty." He was sorry you were not at home
left goodbye for you and hopes to see you in
two years’" .She was so brilliant and gtowinr
and Itosi*. poor little Bose, *** white and bewil
dered. Well, we didn't discuss the thing; it
wasn't such a very pleasant subject. And
Christmas was so near; my beautiful Christmas,
when 1 wanted all the world to be happy! Well,
the home was all trimmed up with greens and
the presents kept coming and coming and I was
no excited I hardly knew what I was doing, and
wui uiere, a res sea in wmic jus* cucu/ mu.
until Jnlia took off her cloak, and them, around
ber throat, instead of the block velvet the oth-
me too young for an engagement. Here aro
the letters that came to me, unread but by her.
She told mo how, in her great love for you, sho
had written you so tenderly when l, os
supposed, Jiiftd you, but in
•dignat ion you had im* her
ried a man for whom she never oared,
a child, whom she never lotcd, and sent forme
to bid mo tell yoii that for lovo of you Mhe had
sinned against all, that'in tho namo of that lovo
sho asked you to forgive, I put the locket on
her breast, hidden in her shroud; here are tho
letters, will you not say, *J forgive/ “
Louis hud grown very lrttlo; holding those
old letters ho looked sadly in the calm, awcet
face before him. "She cost us a great deal/'
he raid at length.
"Yes,” Bose raid, gently, "but It might havo
been so much worse; ray husband bus been
friend as well as lover, I havo been a very
happy woman, and you?”
"1 married,” he said, looking down; "my wifo
was a pretty child; we wero together six weeks
and 1 never cuw hor again: sho died while sho
was in China. My life hasn’t been a very
bright one, but l’vo got back my faith in hu
man nature—and you—for all these years I’vo
Ifijudgcd you.”
"Ana now, with good-bye, you will ray, ‘I
forgive her?’ ”
"Yes,” he said slowly, "since you ask it—I
forgive her,” and he went away. He didn’t seo
her again until John had been dead four or fivo
years. Poor John! how bo did lovo Rose and
how sbo nursed him day and night. Ho left
evoything to her for Iter life, and her—not his
-children when sho died—folks wondered at
that. Everything was fixed about tho boys to
rave Bose; they were to go to school and then to
college so soon as Rose was left in ber pretty
homo with Rosebud, her baby, that John had
loved so. She's been off a good deal traveling,
and last summer when the boys wero homo on
vacation and were so happy wandering about
the wooda witlv, Bose and the Rosebud—all
children together—they met Captain Dantre,
aid it seemed to him the old days had came
lack, sho was so young and ao sweet The boys
took him right into their hearts, they fell in
lovo with sea stories and were so sorry ho hail
resigned. Bose was his darling—tho little one
I mean, for it used to provoke me sometimes,
he seemed to treat my Bose just ns if sho was
—well, his grad mother. He used to go there a
goed deal and he came to onr house almost as
often, for George and I did like him so much.
One night, just about twilight, Louis tApirel
on tho window; he knew George was away and
asked me to go over to Rose's with him to re
turn some books she had lent him. She was
such a reader, and as rite had books about
everywhere and he had been everywhere they
were always good companions. Wo walked
right in. and I pushed the portiere aside at the
libra! * ’ *
I me.
wblto drees, and she was fitting in front of the
fire in a big, low chair, with Rosebud kuceling
in front of her, playiag with her rings aud her
little watcbchain.
"Mamma,” ahe was raying, "I stopped at Mrs.
Per mote, coming home, aud she said how pret
ty you are, Mamma.”
Bore laughed a little. "Was that what she
said?”
"No, but I just thought of it; she mid sho
K to have a
ray mar—and I said I
Vposed—so as not to hint her feelings by talk
ing better, you know. I ’sposed I was, and sbo
said she ’lowed as it wm going to bs a new par,
and how would I like that; she aaid she 'lowed
you was going to marry tho C'apting. O, Mam
ma, do. I wish you would; he’s so lonely.”
Louis put me aside as If I were a baby. "Rose,
Rosie, darling," he cried, "will you? I never
dared ask, hut this dear «-l>ild gives me courage.
I asked ycu eighteen years ago if you loved
me. Do you?’’
Well, I suppose, the said she did, for the we 1-
diug is to be Christmas night in her own house
all filled with greens, and her great tall lx>y is
to give her away. Rosebud says she's going to
give hi m to mamma and mamma is going to
give him to her. I know they will be happy,
nut, think, they'll have to do without nil these
beautiful long eighteen years that George and
I have bad together.
Do Von Want m Onn? Mr. W. IL W. Barnett,
of Bit b ffttl, f*. C, subscribed to The CosstiTt Trox
during December and got a gun as his Christmas
present. Rend in yooi'fubscriptUmand a few new
ones and ypu may get a gun as a New Year’s pres
ent. gee announcement elsewhere.
THE CHIMNEY AT THE MILL.
'Twos when I was courting Katie that
accident I’m going to tell you about happened
But for that ramo accident, I don't think Katie
an’ I would bo man an’ wife this day, for you
see my father was set again’ tho match, Kttio
Icing only a labourer’s daughter, while ho him
self was foreman in the mills, getting good
wages, and thought a deal of by his employers.
An’ if it wasn't for Katie, I don't think I'd '
here now to tell you about it, for ’tuns she
tbut raved my life, through hitting on apian
that never once came into the heads of mo
my comrades—syc, or of thoso that you'd havo
thought would know better than any of ui.
1 was not brought up to my father's trade,
having been taking, when young, by a brother
of my mother’s, a master bricklayer living in
the town. When my uncle died t camo homo
toLisgnrvan for a bit, just to see my father,
and finding that they were at work on the
new buildings at tho wiU*» I looked for employ
ment there, an’ got it at once. Lisgarvan Mill
is a flour mill, nn’ a pretty place it was in those
days, with the river running just by tho old
red brick buildings, and the big water whocl
always going round an* round, ITic river falls
into a larger ono a little lower down, an' tho
tido comes up at far as the mill, so 'tis in boats
that most of the corn is brought in, an’ tho
flour carried away. ’Tlsn’t half so pretty
place now, there aro big whitewashed build*
Inga along side of the old brick once, tho big
wheel is stopped, an’ you hear tho whirr of tho
engines instead of tho sound of tho water. But
they makes a power of money there, an* gtvos
deal of employment.
As I was raying, I got taken on as a brick
layer. Katlo’s father was working there too,
an’ I used to see her bringing him his dinner,
and, after a kit, I began to think that I’d llko
to have her bringing me mine too. 8ho wm 0s
pretty a girl then asyou’d see i %
good looking to this day—an’
that fond or her that I'd havo done anything
a'ttiost to get her. Sho herself was willing
enough, 'twas my father that mado the diffi
culty. He was a proud mao, as proud iu his
way as any gentleman, an’ he was right down
mad at the notion of my marrying n laborer's
daughter. To lie sure I was carol u
wages, an’ might have married without - r - yw
ouc’sjleave if Id keen so miuded. but
i'I like to go again’ the old man trust lint
always been good to me. Besides, Katie was
lust as proud m himself, an’ w ould have noth*
ng to say to me unless be was satisfied. I got
[he master to speak to him, hut sure. ’twasnT a
bit of use. "Mow would you like, sir,” ho says
to tbo master; "if I had a daughter, to have
MMter Philip take up with her, an’ wouldn't
that be the ramo thing ?” I bclievo that tho
master didn’t think it would be all.thoslmo
tiling; tut my father wouldn’t hear ttv,on
from him any moro than from me; ao Katie an r
#>*« -• *
an’ we got a man down from town to build It —
ono of them chaps that builds chimneys au 1
nothing else, an’ thinks nobody knows any
thing about it but theirlolvcs. I was working
along with him, and indeed 'turns I thst built
the most of it an’a right good job it was.
’Twas finished by Christmas -ten years ago
this Christmas coming on—all hut tho light
ning conductor, and that wus not put up owing
to tho master's wanting to make i
when he'd go to London, an’ to see for
what would ho the best kind to use. Tho
master was a scientific sort of a gontleman, an'
had ideas of his own—sometimes they’d bo bet<
ter llisn other people’s, sometimes maybo not
so good. At any rate^ there was a delay about
the conductor, an’ in tho meantime the engines
were at work, an’ tho hig chimney wu smok
ing away like Maxes. Mr. llrown, tho strango
workman, had gouo away, saying, very rondo*
sending-like, that lie wm suro Jim Fordo (that
won mo) would be able to fasteh tho rod to the
chimney ns well as he could do it himself. He
took all his scaffolding with him, hut Itofure ho
went away, he fixed a beam with a pulloy
into the top of tho chimney, un' left u
ropo hanging through it, so that a man <
be hoisted up at any time, au’ there tho rope
hung dangling, week after week, until the
master come home, bringing the rod along with
him.
Once it had romo there was no good losing
any more time in fixing it, so ono Saturday
afternoon in January, up 1 went on a plank,
slung securely at tho end of tho ropo, my tools
along with me, an’ nettled myself astrido on
the stone coping. Twas rather late in tho
day, hut the morning had been too wet an’
stormy to work, on’ the mnstor wm m ira*
it lent to get tho Job dono a* if it hadn’t been
mself that wm hindering it all this time. ’
..mm much ut home atop of the chimney a
was on the ground, an’ I worked on without
once looking down, until my job was finished,
nn’ I was putting up my tools. Then, nil of a
* * i, 1 heard a rattling noiac, an’ lookf
over, 1 sec tho plank going down very fast,
called out, "Hullo, there! scud that up again,
will you !” hut the only answer I got was a
loud laugh, for all the world likn Hilly Jerry
the natural's; and sure enough, there ho was,
standing by tbo windlass, Jumping an’ clap
ping bis hands. I looked about for tho min
whoso business it was to manago tho windlass,
but not a sign of him was there, an’ In m
minute 1 heard tho rattle of the pulley again,
an’ saw that the rot* was running through it
in the wrong direction. I made a grab at It,
but 'twos jerked out of my band, an’ before* I
could catch it again tho end had slippod
through, an’ there I was, moro than a Iqin-
dnd feet from the ground, not knowing how
in the world I was to get down, an’Jerry
dancing an’ capering below, calling out,
"Come down and thrash me now, Mr. Fordo
won't you?" Then 1 remembered that, a few
days before, I had feund this boy annoying
Katie, an’ had given Mm a cut with a switch I
ad in my hand. He had alunk away without
_ word at the time, but it seems he remember-
<d the blow, and took this way of being re
venged.
Well, at first I was scarcely frightened, cx-
. r ting somehow that, once the neoplo below
new of tho fix I wm In, they’d find someway
t me out of it. But when I
come to think of it, deuco a bit of a way could
hit on myself, an’sure I knew moro about
chimneys than any one in the place. Twas
g< tting late, too; there wouldn’t be much moro
than another half-hour of daylight, an’ tho
wind was rising—I could hear it whistling
through the trees. By this time people knew
what Lad happened, an’a crowd was collect
ing; I could see them coming from all parts, for
coune 1 had a view all about. 1 raw a boy
UP to the door of the counting-hoii.*, an’
>< ntl v Master Philip came out, running as if
for Ms life. When he came, ho took the com
mand like, an' !>egan giving directions; an’ the
people, who had only stared at first, now ran
here an' there m ho sent them. First they
brought out a long ladder, on’ fixed it on the
ioof below the chimney. I could have told
them that ’twas too short, knowing as I did the
length of efkry ladder In the phec; but some
how. though I been! their shouts plainly, I
ecu Id not make them hear mine; it seemed M
If tbo voices went up, like smoko. Then thero
was a great delay while they went for a longer
ladder; and this, too, didn’t real'll'half way. A
men climbed up it, however, an’ called out to
know had I bit of string in my pocket that I
cpuld let down. Not a hit could I find. I had
liad a big ball only tho day before, but I had
taken it out of my pocket an’ put it on a shelf
at home. I took off my braces,, au’ fastohod
them an’ ray pocket-liana kerchief togothorjhat
they didn’t near reach tho top of tho lander,
that plan had to lie given up.
All tills time the wind wm rising, an’ T was
Kitting numb with tho cold, sin’ stiff and
aped from being so long in tho one position,
ere was a Mg clock right over the gateway
t opposite, an’ I saw that it only wanted
nty minutes of five; It would be nearly
rk at five; on’ once the darkness set in, what
little hope I bad would lie gono,
Master Philip seemed to havo
gonoaway by
tbie time, but there wm my father among tho
crowd; an’ who should I see, standing next
him, nn’ holding on by his arm, but Katin!
They had forgotten everything but tho fright
about me, an’ lie seemed to bo talking to her,
an’ comforting her. After a hit I saw Master
Philip again; be had a Mg thing in his hand
looking like pockct-handkerchlofa stretched
over a frame, an' I saw that it was a kite, an'
that they meant to send a string to mo in that
way. But you never in all your Hfb saw such
an unmanageable kite. First 'twas too lioavy
and then’tWM too light, and then the time
they seemed to lose miking a tail t
I heard after that part of that sam
node of bank notea Master Philip ...... .
his pocket when lio conld get nothing clso
quick enough. He got thorn all bock later, for
S HI man, woman, or child in the placo would
touched one of them when they raw him
r them lu that way.
lien tho kite did go up nt last, tho wind
o Mgh that they could not manago “
irontrly. It came very near mo once, an
made a snatch at the atriag, nearly over reach
ing myself iu doing so; hut I missed it, an’ just
thin therecauic a terrible gust of wind, tho
fitting broke, an’ the kite waa carried away an’
' ck fast In tho branches of a big tree behind
j muster's bouse. 1 looked over at the clock
ice how much time was left me, an’ I found
that 1 could not see tho hands any longer; the
dhkness had come on In tho hut few minutes.
Then I gave up all hope, for I knew I could
never bold on till morning. I tried to think of
death, an’ to make myself ready for It, but I
couhln't-'-nct ft prayer nor a good word could
I call to minu/only going over an’ over agali
in my head tho way ’twould all hnppon—noi
tbo people would go away one by ono, how I’d
be left aloneln the darknessan’ tho howling
ng
Id
morning all crtiehcd oufc of shape. The pooplo
below seemed to havo glVcn up all thought of
helping mo now, an’ wero standing quite quiet.
Twas so dark by this time that I could not dis*
.. —... a ** I could just raakooul
t suit uinoug the white
tinguish the faces nt all: I could just raako out
Matter Phlllfk in hisdurk suit among tho whlto
mill-men. an’ poor Katlo Sho was crouohing
down on the ground now, her apron over her
head.* All of a sudden. 1 bow lior leap up with
a ctcaVcry, in’ clap her hands, an’ call out
'.something. Tn-.n thero was a confused sort of
* nt, m tvenr one in tho crowd was sv *
ramo thing at the ramo time, an’ 1
Master Philip, making a sign to silence thorn,
‘ his two hands up to his mouth, au’ sang out
voice that came up to me above tho noiso
of the wind—
"Take off your stocking and ravel it; the
itead will reach tho ground.”
At find I didn’t understand him, bring dazed
like, but then the meaning camo on mo liko a
mrrrago from heaven. I got off ono of my
socks with «omo trouble—nice new ones they
were too, of Ratio’s own knitting, that sho hod
liven mo for a Christmas box—an’ with tho
iclp of my teeth I loosened ono end of tho
thread. It gave readily enough after that, un’
when 1 had a good piece of It ripped, I tied my
hnife to the end of it to make it heavy, an’ lot
it drop, ripping more an’ moro of the sock ns it
went down. Then I felt it stop, an' presently
tin re camo a shout tclltag mo to wind it up
again. Very slowly and carefully I did it,
fearing the string would break, an’ wlion tho
lost hit of It camo up, thero was a plena of
strong twino tied to tho end of it. Tho t wino
in iti turn brought tho rope I bad gono up by,
im’ then I felt that I was safe, 1 managed somo*
how to put it through tho pulley, an’ to haul
up tbo plank, an’ aa soon as they hail fastened
the other cud to tho wiudlaas below, thoy gave
mo tho word to oomc down. I was so numb an’
stiff (bat 1 could not fix myself on tho plank,
bat I managed somehow to cling to tho rapes
with my hands. Down, down I came, overy
turn of tho windlass making tho voices below
cccm nearer an’nearer, un’ whon I wm within
i few feet of tho ground thero were a dozen
pairs of arms ready to catch mo, an’ a scoro of
bands held out to me, an' a hundred voices to
welcome mo. An’ there wm my father waiting
forme, an’ Master Philip raying, "But for the
girl he’d have been up thero still. Not one of
rest of tho us would have thought of tbo stock
ini; ’twas the brightest idea I’vo com© across
this many a day. 8ho bus raved bis life,
and you can’t rctone your consent any 1 ..
But when I looked round for Katie, she wm
nowhere to lie seen. Hho must have slipped
off as soon as sho raw I wm safe.
Master Philip hurried my father an’ me
away, I didn’t quite know where, I wm so
dazed, but in a minute or two I found myself
ini wm in lighted dining room at the master's
xlua of
Ith my
,.forlwai
worn out with fright and cold; hut m soon ns I
could, 1 made my cscaiie un’ went down to
Katie’s cottage. 1 hadn’t been thero fivo
minutes when there was a knock at tho door,
and in walks my father. Ho wont straight up
Katie, holding out Ms hand.
"Katie, my girl,” he said, "I’vo como to ask
your pardon for anything I’ve ever said or dono
against yon, an’ if you an’ Jim are still of the
ramc mind, I won’t hinder you from marrying.
Tis you have the best right to him, for you’ve
saved his life.”
'And ’Us proud an’ glad T am that T wm
able to do that same, Mr. Fordo,’’raid Katie.
"And you'll raairy him, won’t you, my
dial?”
"If you're satisfied, sir.”
"I nin, my dear, quite satisfied/’ and with
that he ki*w*d her, and from that day to thij.
he and Katie have l*ecn the best of friends.
He lives with us for the fast year or mo, for ho
was Kitting a little past Ms work, and tho
■aster persioned him off. Ife is very happy
.Ith us, an’ he is never tired of telling the
biidren the ttory of the way that their
n:othi i s cleverness saved my lift*.
Antiquity or Gambling,
llic Fan FranclMf) chronicle.
I believe they played dominoes in Egypt
thico thousand years ago for money, and 1 dare say
Ihe Bern tiftrie* of unrfent Carthage *ho*»k dice for
remuneration they had for their brutal services.
Poker wo* known by another name, bnl I doubt
not that Nebuchadnezzar's army anted up in their
camp lu the warm Attjrhtn night; and while
Brutus wu quarreling with Caariu* in his tent the
lan soldiery were probably staking their
iprctive drachma* at wane game of chance.
I, In the nineteenth century, with civilization in
full Ms*t and a hundred ^religious creeds fighting
tor the regulation of people's morals, the three card
monte performer stoops in the astute man of bad
ness, and the bnnko msn lands U* statesman
he pti-ljuat as of old.
in n wui in iignwi tuning room at mo n
home, an’ Master Philip ttouring out a i
brandy for me an’ shaking baud* wl
father. I wm glad to get the brandy, fc
LITTLE BEN.
3, lion-
Written for The Constitution.
C.ptxln!”—Tho voice was soft And gontlo ns
a woman’s. “Captain, can’t you tako mo with
you to St. Louts?' 1
“Not allowed to carry any passengen,” sold
the captain, gruffly, without looking up from
bis desk,
Tho t"; boat fitaver, with hor tow of [urges
was lying at the bunk In Cairo, Illinois. Sho
waa the only boat In sight that ahowcl any
sign of llfo; all tho othora was laid up for tlio
winter; navigation waa portions. Tlio great
river waa choked and full huge masses of float*
Ing tee, and all tlio land was deep with snow
and elect. It was intensely cold. It was tho
£2d of December.
“I didn’t mean to go as n passenger,” aaid tho
voice. “I thought uiaybo yon might let me
work my way along with tho crew."
“No; got all the hands wo want, I bellove,"
•aid tbo captain, busy with his bills.
“Captain, I'll work mighty hint—captain,
plense.aan't I go wltli yon, sir?” Ho tried to
•peak bravely; hut it was palnflilly evident that
he was forcing back a sob.
The captain finished his waybill and looked
up at hla visitor.
“Well, Ihe dai
It waa a very small boy who H
services to tho captain; n lad with the fneo and
features of a delicate girl. Ills soft dark hair
hung In wavelets about his nerk. Hi. cheeks
v.eio pinched and shrunken aa If from illnea..
Ills elothkig was apant and thin. IIo was trem
bling with cold, anil his wldo brown oyes had In
them a look ao Imploring that tho captain, ns
soon ns lie had recovered from Ills astonish
ment, told him to couo into his oillcc aud got
warm.
bo/
ytnTS ___ j, „ „
“That’s all right, sonny,” said tho captain.
‘What’s yonr name anyhow?"
‘ lion,” answered tho liny.
“Ko yon want to go to St. Loots, do yon, Ben?
What do you want t( “ *
thero for?”
Tho boy looked at tho bluff officer a moment,
and then lie aaid: >
“It’s almosMtUtatrtna, and I promlsd mother
wnscomlng homo. Mother lives In St. Isiuls,”
His simple words touched theTSiptaln. Tho
captain's mother lived in St. Louis, too, and ho
wus trying to reach homo In time to ipcnd tho
holidays with her.
“Well, whnt’a tho matter?'’ naked tho captain,
“Ain’t you got no money? Set down hero, lit
tle chap, and toll us about It. Israks llko
you’vo been having a pretty tough time.”
The hoy sat down, and tho captain, by much
questioning, obtained hla atory. It was told in
a simple, honest way. Mis parents hsd resided
in New Oilcans. Hownsborn there. His father
was an artist, who mado a sufficient Income to
snpport his family In comfort, and to send his
little son to atmwleal school. Two years before
his father died suddenly,and his mother mon '
[to Bt. Isml: 1 whose she invreted-hrr Aw-lsL
"e. aud opened a modest little millinery
hlishment In one of tho poorer sections ot
the city. Business mu not flourish with tho
widow, but she managed by dint of saving to
keep hor boy at school.
“i never knew bnt whatmothor bad plenty of
mercy,” mid the bey, In his simple way. “she
always gave me everything I wanted, till ono
day Inst summer she mme in my room, nnd I was
singing and playing on my gutter”—large tear
[limps had been slowly forming in the hoy’s
[eyes. lie brushed them away, hastily, with the
hack of his bind—“She looked so pretty," he
said, “that I ran up to her nnd kissed her. She
was smiling when she came In my room, but
[when I kissed her ahe laid her lead on my
shoulder and cried, and it nearly killed me; I
vc r saw mother cry lioforc. And she sal t
le was Just nervous and nothing was the mat
ter; hut I made her tell me, and she said her
uiom y was marly couo amt she was afraid I
would have to stop music lessons. Aud I told
her not to cry, cause I’d make money for her,
and, captain, I done It, too.” There waa a tone
of trinmph in his volce.snd for a moment his
pale face Unshed with conscious pride.
“1 never told mother what I waa going to do
—1 knew sho wouldn’t let me—but 1 took my
gtillur and went out of the house, and then [
w rote mother a note and told her 1 was going
lawny for a little while,mid I would write to
her tvciy day and send her somo mouoy. I
walked from one town to another all the sum
mer,and In the evenings I used to stand on the
[corner and sing, and people gavo me lots of]
money. 1 sent It all to mother, excopt a little
1 kept to pay my board. I told mother I was
in business, 1 nover said what business. I
mado plenty of money In the summer time, but
when the weather got chilly 1 didn’t mako so
iiincb, and I sent it all to mother, and some
times I slept out doom. And then 1 got sick,
and I hail chills cvciy day, and they snook mo
all to pieces, and I couldn’t sing like I used to
and ptoplo slapped paying mi', and I sold my
guitar to a man, and I sent tlio money to
knottier.
And every Irttcr I got from mothrrsho was
begging me to como home, mill sho said sho diet
mot mi d my money nnd bust mas was getting
■nod, but you sco, csptaln, she fooled me once
Before. I knew sho wonld say anything tout
me bark, but the last letter I wrote I told her
■ was coming home and i'd bo there for Christ-
Has. Ami yesterday and last night I walked
all the way from Paducah through tho snow,
[arret, captain, 1 can't walk any more.”
■lie hoil forgotten hla present trouble In the
recital of his adventures. He denied snddenly
to remember bin position. Ho looked nt tM
captain with great pleading ores.
“Captain.” he almoat sobbed, “I'll work.
—Please, sir, let ms go!” and then tho little
chap broke down and the tears bail to come.
Tae captain got up and looked through tho
little window. He blew his note and wiped it
carefully. TIicd lie sat down again.
■■Well, well,” lie said, “I wouldn't cry about
_ sonny. 1 reckon we ran Ax It for yon. I
expect you do want to sec yonr mother sure
muff.”
■“Thank yon, sir,” said the hoy, drying bis
[eyes, “I never will forget yonr kindness, op-
tain, and now I'm ready for work.”
■ The captain looked at tho boy and laughed.
■ “Yon ueedn't do anything .sonny. Just stay
shoard and make yonraelf comfortable."
Hot tho boy persisted, and tho captain finally
told him to go below and do whatever tho mate
commanded.
■An hour later tho Stavcr waa making tho Ix-jt
of her way up tho ice-filled turbulent Miwlnip-
. , and the captain bad nearly forgotteu about
the boy. He worked with tbo crew, pulling
on the sleety, frozen ropes, wheeling cist to
the furnace, doing whatever the men would
let him. They were rough, kind hearted men.
They Joked the boy In tneir bluff way and told
him he had better liadown by the furnace fires.
They had sapper In adirty mess-room, whore
the men slept on little shelves against tho wall.
He wu glad when be crept In between the
rough blankets, and he listened to the men
talking about onoBIU Howe, who it appeared
was an extremely unpopular personage cm-
yed as a captain of the watch. Their convsr-
Ion was not of interest to Ben. Ho wts aoon
rep at midnight he was awakened by the
gruff voice of a seen wkowas shaking the deck
hand In the next berth.
Boon up, English! toast up! hatUc fin
now! Want a man on tho look-out. Como now,
pile out!”
“You go to—."said English.
Tho man let him alone. Ho camo to Bon’d
bed,
“Hello! who's this,—Pilo ont hero, young
feller! Yon’l do ns well ns anybody else. Fas
out now! Dout lay there all night.”
Tho hoy was on his feet in a moment.
“What do you want mo to do?” bo nskod.
“Welt yon to a sweet-scented specimen, yon
aro,” said tho man, eyeing tlio boy disdainfully.
“Como on with me! I'll soon show you what
yeu’vo got to do, you tow-colored tramp you.
Where tbo devil did you como from anyway?”
Tho dock hand known ns English looked
over tho sldo of lib bunk,
"Look hero. Bill Howe,” ho grumbled, "da
yon mean tor say you’re going to ter put that
thero kid out on tho front?"
“I mean to say I'm going to do just what I
blame phase,” said Bill.
"Well, you oughter ho ashamed of voursolE
yen whlto llvered puppy,” said tho deck-hand
with somo warmth. "I'm a pretty tough man
myself, but dam If I'm going to sco such n out
rage as that. You go on back to bed, sonny [
I II tako your place.”
“Now you dout neither.” retorted Bill. “Yon
wouldn't como when I called yon. and I'm cap
tain of tho gang, nt.d what I say goes, and
dent you forget it,” Slid before Englhh could
Interfere hq find caught tho boy rudely by tha
aim and pushed him from (hocabin.
"Kid'll be back Inihlo o' ten minutes” reflec
ted English, when ho was through cursing
Bill Howe, and then ho dozed offtoslccpagain.
It wns tcnibly cold on deck. Tho hoyshtv-
ered as tho man led Mm ovor tho long lino of
bulges. Finally they reached tho last barge in
front of tbo steamer. There was a torch burn
ing there lu nn Iron frame. Tho man told thn
hoy lie mint keep a sharp look ont ahead, and
when be saw a dangt roua drift coming toward
them ho must signal tho pilot by waving a
light.
“All rt-rlglit, sir,” chattered tho hoy, and
the man aworo at him two or three times and
went hack to tho stcnnior.
Tho storm of wind anil nloet was ovor, Tho
night was beautiful nnd atilt. The deep, mea
sured breathing of tho tug away kick laths
■car, tha crushing of tho ico along the bankA
and now and then tho liowl of a famished
wotr from the swnmp lands on cither shore only
mado tho fkosen silence more awflil anil sub
lime. And above him tho stare sealed doubly
brilliant through tho elcareold air, amt before
him was tho great, mad river filled with flash
ing, fantastic, ghostly forms that moved, and
changed, and waved, and farmed to kcckoie
him. And It waa so cold, so lerriby, deathly
cold.
An hour—two hours, went by. Tlio hoy
kept his eyes fastened on tho rlvor, bnt ovory
benoln his fmtl body was trembling anil his
thee was purple. The cohl hurt him; it was an
agony. Ho sat down on the front of the bargu.
Once ho looked back at tho headlight of tha
tag, hack to tho glowing warmth oft ho furnace-.
"I must tiy and stand It,” ho kept re;
to himself, and presently ho took from 1
ged Jacket a Uttlo box, and opened It. It con
tained a cheap black breastpin, lie had spont
his hist re nt iu a Christmas gill for 111- mother.
IIo looked atlt and It seemed to warm him.
Tho cold didn't hart him any more. A ploax-
ant dreamy sensation wns alenling over him.
Ho thought he would IIo down with hts head
on his Slim lie ennld wateli tho Hirer Inst uu
well. An
in*! by somo carious magic ho was a
Ills mother was with him. How well he re
membered tho bright, eoey little room! and
there waa hie books and hfs music Just as ho
had left them, and on thn table by tfio winding
a bouquet of pretty flowers. It must be sum
mer lime, hceanso the window was open and
tlio wsi m air and glorious sunshine were dan
cing in the room. And how pretty hla mother
w aa aa ahe took him in her arms and bent and
kilned him! And bn nceU«l hie head In her
besom, and he felt hor warm breath on his
cheek and laughed with gladness.
“O, how I lovo you, pretty mother," mur-
tm red happy little Hen, and ho waa going to
tell ber shout the tug, and the Captain and tho
strange forma on the river, bnt It dipped from
' Un and he forgot It He forgot everything.
The deck hand known aa “English” woks
from a sound sleep, and Instantly—why ho
could not say—ho thought of tho boy. Not
finding him In bis cot Im hastily pul on a
great shaggy overcoat and went forward to re-
Icvo lilm from the watch. Ho found Uttlo
lieu lying with lib heed on hie arm. a smllo
usa on hie lips, anil In his hand he held hhs
mother’s gin, hut Ms face wns colorless as snow,
nnd lifts had ceased tobcatki his heart. English
la nt over him a long time. Then he stood up,
and, perhaps unconsciously, took off hla hat
''He's dead,” said Englbh, In a strange, soft
whisper.
A mountain lirsTEnr.
■I'l'atiiiK
From the Venture, Col., Proo Prom.
Parties returning from hurting trips to tha
mountolns often toll strensotelso of their experi
ence when miles ewty from human habitation, o*
conflicts with grtssly bears, motmtaln lions, eta,
bit by flu tho most weird story we have heard la
told by two well-known young men of this place,
rere on a prospecting toaraooie three weeks
J near Cobblestone mountain, at tbo northern
boundary of Ibb county. The story they tell—amt
they are willing to tako Ibelr oath on tho truth of
the ntotemont—b about ot fbtlowe;
One cold night they were atmultaneously awak
ened shout two o’clock by tho nolao of crackling
btnih that had been thrown on the fire. They
arose to a sitting posture and saw the figure of ait
Indian woman standing by tbo fire, Bha war dress
ed In a robe of gayly colored material that almost
reached lo ber (Cel. A glistening necklace, evi
dently of gold aud allrer.cartcbsd her neck, ami
banging pendant from Ibb were a number of bcarV
• laws Her black hair reached below bee waist. Im
her earn were large hoop ear.rings of gold.
Upon seeing the form one of tho young men In
stinctively reached tr* hb rifle by his aids, whlto
the other started In amazement st seeing each m
tight In the dead of tho night and thirty mitre Arum,
any home. When tha figure saw tho motion mado
to reach the rifle she motioned for them not lo Aro
aud moved down tbo troll, beckoning to them. Bo
ron disappearing from view thaagaln beckoned to
i hem, but they were too dumfimmled to follow.
“The next morning they followed the trail, ami
after much difficulty traced the footprints to tho
hose of a high sllff about one mile from their camps
The rest of the Kory told U to this eSkct: “When
I awoke," retd one of Ihe young men, "I was hor-
rtfiod. I couldn't move to sera my Ufa. I was
frozen with aKonlihment. Tho neat morning wa
discussed the mttler and determined to Inreati-
gtte. bo the next night we took our blankets amt
wenttothcboMOftbo clifi. At about mldnUM,
the seme hour the figure appeared to us, wa saw A
bright phosphor ement Ugbt on the brow of the cllft
and 1 am suro we heard a rolca calling 'Moanaoabl
Heenceahl' several limes. This Is the ilraogaetex-
perlence I ever passed through. I never hare be
lieved lo (heats, bat I wonld llko to know what
this wax If it was a woman, how did the coma
there at that time thirty miles from etrltbatloor*
An old Indian tradition Is to the elfsct that many,-
many yean ego an Indian seatdeu-Ifesnsggh. tha
only daughter of a cblef-was loot In this region
and starred to death near tho place called Siuaur
Flat. It b aaid that different emmploc parties barn
seen tha phosphorescent light spoken of tn tho rt-
etnlly where thego young men wore camped, auk
this be a parallel case with that of the Indian wo
man abandoned ca Baa Nicolas Island for eighteen,
yean; “