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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; “