Newspaper Page Text
voi/. XIX.
ATLANTA, GA., TUESDAY, JUNE 21, 1887.
PRICE FIVE CENTS.
OUR SIORY CORNER.
y* 1
BEJS^Y BFJEflJ.
U. A. C In New York Evening Tost.
Peoplo north have, I find, bat the faintest
Idea of how intimately interwoven and core-
fated were tho lives, the fortunes, often the af
fections, of masters and slaves. “Bob’s Lost
Bride” exemplifies this somowliat. To illus
trate it further, I liavo told tho story of Mrs.
Brent. She Is among the most vivid of my
childish memories. Sixty years old, tall, gaunt,
A&d so muscular that in figure she seemed al
most a mau in masqnr&dp. Tho face, though,
was all woman, and In spite of its big feature*,
keen, dark eyes, and more than a suspicion of
beard on tho chin, more especially about the
mouth, a look of brooding mothorlincss, that In
any disguise would have proclaimed her estate
—a widow whose one child was dead. She was
liom Betsey Moore, daughter of a ferryman on
the Cumberland river. He had no son, and
Betsey, tho oldest girl, was os often tho boat
man as himself. Of vigorous race, air, sunshine,
unlimited food, homespun clothes and lime
stone water developed her into a young Ama
zon. At 18 she could “stand in a half-bushel
And shoulder a turn of wheat,” take tho boat
overstroam in flood or darkness, bring down
With a riflo a hawk on tho wing, swing an axo
With tho best chopper in tho neighborhood,
plow or hoc all day and then getsupper for her
shiftless mother, rido any colt she could bridle,
and climb the tallest trees. In fact, she was
•imply a hundred and sixty pounds of bone,
•inew and capacity. Sim lmd not an ounco of
«oft superfluous fat, or a traco of laziness.
* Besides kIio know all woman’s work. She
could cook, wash, milk, scrub, spin, woavo or
Jew with the host. Sho had numerous lovers,
. but while her father lived, sho put thorn all
aside. The old man could not got on without
the ferry, nor tho ferry without her. She stood
by both to tho end. When death freed her,
«he said hi the younger girls Jong married into
homes of their own: “It’s my turn now to have
a husband. Keep mother amongst yo till I get
me one.”
In six weeks she found him. Mr. Brent, a
widower with a small farm, half a dozen grown
children, and about as many negroes. A quiet,
lymphatic sort of man,with just energy enough
to let himself bo married by Miss Betsey
Moore, and afterward to rejoice unceasingly m
such good fortuno.
Ono son was born to them, tliolr only child.
Brent’s own sons took tho Texas fovor, and bo-
seiged tho father to holp them to that El Dora
do. Ho had a little alioad, but far too little to
««go 'round.” Then there was the land mid tho
slaves. If the boys would stay and work, ho
a living, as hr i •: ami in his own
opinion, at least, quite too old to work.
Betsey solved the problem. Tho boys might
have tho negroes, upon condition that all that
was left, the land and buildings,should be licrs
and her children’s, inalienably and indisputa
bly. Sho saw her way clearly. There was a
deal of work loft In “Father,” os from the flttt
the had called her husband, and after a few
years “little Abram” would bo big enough to
help materially. Meantime sho herself could
easily tnako more than enough for their simple
Wants. She was a notable weaver, not merely
of Jeans, linsoy and homespun, but of carpets
and counterpanes an well. “The Orange Peel,”
“Tho Snowballs,” “M’s and Q’s,” “Dimity,”
“Broken Dimity,” gho had thorn all at her fin
ger ends. In fact, Mr. Brent often admiringly
remarked, when he saw her deftly “taking tno
cross,” or “draw in” soiuo especially intricate
pattern: “Seems ter me Betsey,you must
o-bccn bom a-wcavln’. Hit ’ffdrs ter come
jeV as nalcltcl ter ye as breathin’.”
Bcsidc^ftho was famous for dyeing. Thoro
was hardly a tint sho Would not attempt; her
rods were tho most vivid, her greons the most
glaring, her blues the most unfading tho coun
ty through. In a homespun community such
skill had value,and Mrs. Brent knew she could
depend on hers. Then, too, her mother was a
••yerb doctor,” and Betsey had early mastered
*’l her secrets. Sho could not read—in fact,
knew not one lottcr from another—but she had
a clear head, and along with unlimited faith in
herself, the judgment to know and tho candor
to admit, when a case was beyond her. 80, al
together, there was little doubt that she could
more than take care of tho farm, her husband
and her boy.
Pluck goes a great way. Luck often does
Wonders. Combined, as they were in this case,
they arc simply irresistible. Working wherever
there was a cltaneo for an honest dollar, Betsey
Brent not merely kept her family in comfort,
but In three years was able to buy for a thou
sand dollars cash the stout negro man whom
•ho had hired of his master Binco her stepsons
left. Harry, as he was named, and “little
Abram” were inseparable, oven when, two
years lator, black Daphne was added to tho
family, and sought by all arts known to a bom
none, to win away the child’s heart.
Daphno was os much of a character as her
mistress. As tall, as stout, as Jirarded, and
quito as proud of her capacity. She was more
than midtIlo-agc<l, blacker than darkness, with
• curiously wslnkled face, overtopped by tow
ering, onow-whito wool. In tho way of work
she matched her mistress, and as an offset to
the latter’s medical skill, had a knowledge of
•‘conjurin’ ” that made her dreaded by her own
nee as well as by many of tho whites. She had
neither husband nor child, and though on the
surface smiling and placid as a summer sea, you
caught now and then a glimpse of savage hid
den depths In her nature that went far to con
vince you that there might be something more
than fancy in the tales her fellows
told of how those on whom her anger fell Iiad
“a spell put on them” and dwindled to death,
with some strange ill past the euro of any doc
tor. The negroes believed fully it was tho work
of the devil to whom sho had sold herself.
Though there is clearly nothing supernatural
about it, no ono can deny that some of tho Af
rican race have a knowledge of obscure poise us
and their fatal use, that makes them foes to loi
dreaded.
Daphne had it to perfection; but for long af
ter she was added to the Brent household gave
no proof of her powers. The place was pros
perity itself, a model of thrift and comfort.
The house was a two-roomed log structure,
With a wido unenclosed passage through It and
a longrongh porch and roar. Under the loose
door of the passage wa , the cellar, where ap
ples and sweet potatoes kept from year’s end to
gear’s end. twenty yards away stood the weav
ing house, also of logs, with a puncheon floor,
one small window, a door and a cavernous fire
place In its stick-and-dirt chimney. Withal it
was picturesque. The roof was sharply pitched.
It had deep overhanging eaves and gables. The
walls were time-worn to a warm mellow gray,
and a big wild rose clamliered over tho door,
whilo a trumpet creeper ran riot up the chim
ney and waved trails of scarlet blossom from
tho ridge pole.
Within were the loom, the “big wheel” for
spinning or “filling quills,” tho “flax wheel,”
the “deck reel” that measured the thread
en wlispun, the “winding blades,” a rude table,
a clmir or two and a water-shelf.
Thoro Daphno and her mistress spent all tho
time they could spare. Tho close companion
ship aftera while had it3 effect. Mrs. Brent had
suffered keen anxiety after buying Daphne,
who indeed had been sohl at a ridiculously low
figure, on account of tho fears of her former
dwnor, Mrs. Brent, too, believed in conjmy,
but hud greater faith in herself, and when
warned of tho risk sho rau only said: “liCt her
bo tho devil's wife .11 she is; it wool it tako her
long to learn betterin’ to try any of her capers
round Betsey Brent.”
Notwithstanding she had moments of de
pression when she thought of possible danger
to lier, her husband, or beyond all, to her boy,
now growing into a sturdy liltlo lad, tho de
light of his mother’s heart.
But as time passed and Daphno showed her
self only humbly loyal and valuable, fear van
ished, and Mrs. Brent made of her far more a
companion than a sorvant.
After ten years came a change. The summer
was hot and very dry. All streams ran low,
and tho Brent’s well grow 1111 wholesomely
strong of limestone. And whilo tho crops
parched and shriveled with heat, tho master
lay dying of sorno mysterious discoso that baf-
flod not merely bis wife’s skill but that also of
fie best doctors in tho country. Harry, too,
crept about like a galvanized corpse, moaning
at tho least jar. “Do misery. O! do misery—
do misery In my breas’.” And “littio Abram”
—littio no longer, but six feet at 15—tiled hard
to take tho place of tho two in the labors of
tho farm. Ho was all his mother’s son. So no
tronder'spirit outlasted mnsclo^or that tho lad,
going from dawn to dark, went beyong Ins
growing strength and came down with low fe
ver tho day his father lay dead.
Nor oyer rallied. Six weeks later they buried
him, too, at tho foot of tho garden. Harry
fnoaned hoart-brokonly and Daphne’s grim Ups
quivered, but tho mother looked on without a
tear.
With a terrible face, nevertheless. All
through her boy’s illness sho had boon mook
and quiet past all believing. Especially toward
Daphne. Not till breath left her boy would
sho give up hope. To hor ignorant, sanguino
nature, it seemed possible to save him, even
when all others saw that only a v biiraclo could
dolt.
But the garden was the flower of eccentrici
ty. Some half acre in extent, it was at onco
Daphne’s care and delight. Tho soil was sim
ply perfet, light, deep, with a blaek unctuous
richness known only to Tennessee. No hoof
ever trampled it. Manure was brought In bos
kets, and instead of a plough, came Daphne's
spade. Siio had entire ciiargo of it, wrought
and planted as alio pleased, except justaiouml
the two graves. Tlioro Miss Betsey was su-
p erne. Sho had Inclosed each mound with a
t lick circle of hyacinths mid tulips. Other
fl >wers she would have none. Hobos especially
she forbade. “They had thorns, and the dead
ought to rest,” she said. So only bull» flowered
about her dead, though tho rest of the garden
was literally a riot with gayer blorfoms.
Daphne, 1 think, gave to flowers all the love
of her heart. She novor, by any chance, up
rated ono of her garden pots. Grow where it
might, idio let it stand, worked carefully
around it, and rejoiced in its beauty.
Mauy flowers went to seed there, bo year by
year tho garden became more and more a wil-
d.*mos.s. Tall white ami scarlet poppies grow
rank above purple paushs, and sweet peas
climbed over anil around holy hocks and prince’s
feather. All grew wheresoever thoy listed,
Wherever a wind-blown seed found lodgment
i:i the rich black mould. The asparagus bed
especially was the nursery aud liot-bed of va
grant blossom a. In the roasting car and pea
patches was the homo of the morning glories,
and all about tho hardy shrub.* white and red
cypress vine unfolded feathery tracoQr. In the
fence corners, to north and west, were peach
tree.*’., Indian, red plum, while and yellow
heart, and a dozen unnamed kinds of even
better flavor. East, was a row of pear trees,
and just inside them, tho border of “yorbs,”
where yon found tansy, thyme, elecampane,
sweet flag, mint, sago, camomile, balm, dill,
fennel, carroway, swcot basil, hoarhouml,Tex
as sago, catnip, pennyroyal,bergamot,aniseed,
burdock, horseradish, sweet majoram and
dozens more that I cannot recall, as thoy wore
mainly indigenous, and hail names and, I sus
pect, properties, mainly ol Mrs. Brent's and
Daphne’s ascription.
Tho herb* were quite as scattered os tho flow
ers. In fact, every square inch of surfaco
fairly teemed with growing things. There
seemed absolutely no limit to the noil's capac
ity. Especially was this exomplifled in tho
fruits and vines. Peach and pear trees, bent
to breaking with their burdens, and on tho
rough arbor over the central walk, Isabella
grapes ran more than wild.
But, after all, the grandest, chief beauty, was
the canc-brako at the south ond. A remnant
of aboriginal growth, It was allowed and en-
courgcd by Mrs. Brent on account of hor weav
ing. Tho reeds mado hor “quills,” and all
among their slender swaying greenness sho had
stuck cnltfngs of the samo vigorous grape that
overran hor walk. In a few years they
wi, * «mu irr tea VO 1
nothin’ about yo. Ef I do, it’ll bo tho worso
for yer.”
b.io kept her word. For a year tho husband
Waa quite ignored. Then Pauline fell ill with
what seemed tho same mysterious illness that
had carried off “Father” and “littio Abram.”
Sho was “conjured.” Her mistress had no
■.doubt of it. Brit this time Daphne was not
Pa fault. It was tho “yoller nigger”—tho
husband who,. tired of his young wife, had
put her under a wasting spell. Since the
Areddlng Mrs. Brent had refused to speak to
void Ben Davis.” Now sho made up her
Wind to speak to some purpose, to demand that
• he should make Bill undo Ids nefarious work,
at Old Ben was quite a likeness of Mrs. Brent.
;Of tho samo pioneer stock—with the samo en-
wJfptio courage. By thrift and Industry ho
bed accumulated a handsome cojjjj*ete"neo.
Be had remained a bachelor, aud as lie lmd no
lioar relatives Ids slaves bad quito tho tlrst
f ibico in hi* heart. They were well clothed,
at und saucy beyond expression. All they
kijow of whipping was what they got from
their mothers. Bill was his master’s favorite.
Mr. Davis believed in conjury. • Even more iie
bloiovod in BUI.
So whom as lie drove past tho house, Mrs.
Brent waylaid him, demanding tho summary
e unhriimcnt of Ms favorite, ho could only gasp
I open-mouthed wonder, till that lady was
exasperated to say: “Sen hero, Mr. Davis,
don’t sot there gyatffln at mo, liko l was some
show. Anyltodv with the soiiho of er cricket
can sco Paulino’s conjured, and I want you
either ter whip BUI till ho promises ter tako
the spell off, or semi him ter me.”
“Whva-t’U you—do—with him,” Bill’s mas
ter gasped out.
“I wont tech ’hn. I promise you that,”
lac old lady snapped viciously, “but I’ve got
Daphno yit.”
“Then wh-a-a-t d’yo w-want Bill f-fer?
-jlnt ono conjuror enough ?” Mr. Davis stam
mered out. Then ho started up his horse at a
tremendous pace, leaning back over his buggy
to say exctlodly: “Jin' powerful sorry Mrs.
Brent, but its fly time, vo see, and this critter
wont stand still no longer. Soo you somo
other time.”
Alas I for htimnn calculation. Old Ben had
thought thus to escape. In his excitement ho
somehow got tho reins crossed, and looking
hack at her, failed to discover It until an espec
ially hard tug reined Ills plunging horse quite
Up in the fonco cornor, upsetting tho buggy in
tho process, and flinging (dm into tlioniludlo
of tho road, almost at his adversary’s feet.
But when upon attempting to rise. Old Bon
fell back groaning nnd helpless, her anger
vanished quito. summoning help, ho was
quickly carried to her best room, nor left it for
wx weeks. A broken leg is no tritlo, especially
one of his weight and age.
Of eonrso Bill came to wait on 1dm. But in
•pito of that obnoxious presence Mrs. Brent
gave tho old man all a sister’s care. Equally
ii course Paulino got well. In fact more than
ball hor illness was nervous dread of hor mis-
freas's anger. And as old Ben lay and wateliod
tho strong woman ho had so hold in dread,
noted her thrifty ways, ate hor dollclous cook-
'c*y, ho made up Ids mind that If sho woujd
- have him sho might. In many ways it was
■ i!'-. It woiiid ctT.M tidily end lids
•I Pauline; tle’n, too, their
well. Whon tlio end came grief and terror frozo
all softer feelings. 8he was simply vengeance
incarnate.
Daphne marked hor mistress—and read with
tho subtlo intuition of her class all that was in
her heart. Whether or not sho was guilty only
herself know. The boy’s illness, though at first
clearly explicable, lu^l in tho later stages
shown some astonishing features. Guilty or
innocent though, it w as all one. That tho no-
gress knew well. So when tho last shovelful
of earth wa* heaped over “littio Abram,’’ and
tho tools, according to negro superstition,
ranged in orderly fashion about tho gravo,
there to remain till morning, she slunk away to
her cabin. Sliowas safo till morning. Mbs
Betsey, sho knew, would put her baud to noth
ing till tho sun had rlscu on tho now gravo.
But afterward—Daphne liad tho courage as
w.ill as tho ferocity of her own African lions,
yet oven sho shrank from what might befall.
She must run away. Perhaps in a few weeks
Miss Betsey would bo somewhat appeased.
It was lute In September when “littio Abnun”
died. November winds blow chill, when
Daphuoatlast “came in.” Her absence had
been taken as quito a matter of course. Mrs.
Brent bad mado neither inquiry nor outcry,
and herself dono tho work of both. Daphno
stole back at the dead of night and at cock
crow was at the door of her mistress’s room,with
a blazing brand, to light tho morning fire. It was
kitchen as well ns chamber, tho largor of tho
two log rooms. Mrs. Brent unbound tho door;
without sign of surprise, accepted Dapliuo’s
help in all things os though runaways were not
—and after breakfast was fairly over bald:
“Daff, ain’t It strange Harry got well jest ns
noon as little Abram was buried.”
“n— in—m. ’Pears ter mo lik ole MUlster's
took do wrong one any way. Bolter had lef
our boy nnd kilt dat oio nigger. Ho ain’t no-
count no wsj*,” Daphne answered, not looking
up, yet glancing out of the corner of lier eye.
Ilcr mistre.ij said uothing but set her teeth
hard—and after a minute led tho way to tho
weaving house, took Daphno within and shut
and locked tho door. Three hours later sho
mmo out, looking thoroughly exhausted, while
Daplmo tottered away to her cabin, and did not
leave it for three weeks.
Throughout that time Mrs. Brent nursed and
tended her as sho might have dono a sinter. In
fact,she would let no hand but hers do any
thing for tho woman. When at last Daphno
came back to her place and work a surfaco ob
server would liavo seen no difference.
About this period is my first conscious mem
ory of her. Straight, sturdy, with white fiafr
all drawn to the top of her head, and a strong,
shrowed, deep-lined face, sho was an altogeth
er Impressive personage. 8Iie wore homo spun
summer or winter—bine and cope ms, striped or
“dice cloth.” Ilcr gowns were all of ono pat
tern— straight, plain waists, autplo sleeves
and full skirts reaching not quite to tho ankle.
Her calfskin shoes wore soft ant fine; tho
stockings, so liberally displayed above them, of
white wool, home-kuit ami very suft. Sho usu
ally wore, too, a long tow-cloth apron and a
calico cape, above which was a muslin 'kerchief.
For her headgear she much affected a sunbon-
net of bright green calico, while red woolen
mittens covered her hands.
Yet she ate only from china, used real silver
spoons, and had in one corner a tail 8100 cioek,
marvelously outof keeping with the pots, pans,
ovens, spiders and skillets clustered below It.
For Daplmo and her mistress alike scorned a
cooking stove as a weak Invention designed to
foster lazlnett. Once a glib tlnpedier inveigled
Miss Betsey Into the purchase of a reflector,
but It stood on the shelf quite to itself, an Ish-
maclite of tin, and to the day of her death in
brilliant disuse, stared reproach at its posses
sors.
Altogether the menage was a series of para
doxes.
pi
iberod boldly out To a nectarino
tree just beyond this limit, and mado it a tent
of broad, groon leaves.
Except the walks there wot not a straight
lino in the garden. “How” was strictly a title
of courtesy. Strawberry vines had vffaplant
for next neighbor; oml cucumbers, water
melon* and squashes dotted the expanse of
pea-vines. Sweet potatoes, alone, the garden
could not boast. The soil was too rich. Thoy
went “uii to bind,” so wore related to a near
hillside. Onions and Irish potatoes grow to a
size and perfection I have never seen else
where, notwithstanding the overgrowth of
flowers. A designer of agricultural ucwspnjicr
chromoi could have mado his fortuno by
snap-dragon noddiuj
Texas sage.
If Daplin
pertly acrois to creamy
garden talcs were wonderful-
doors of men ol tho bonier und events of fron
tier lifo. Toward later dnys she assumed tho
nttitudn of a judicially critical observer. Tho
“big road” ran just outside hor dooryard, and
once a congressman-elect had actually taken
shelter with hor from a sudden shower.
The fact in no way elated Mrs. Brent. For
hor, social distinctions simply were not. But
having a distorted inkling of somo public
question, sho asked the gentleman for Infor
mation upon it, and out of his clever noncom-
inittaiism evolved the statement, which sho
always thereafter delighted to make: “Tills
country is ruled by i*ollytieks. Tho whlgs nnd
the diiuinyerats is or liglitin’ over uui ull tho
time, and the one that gets tho most nolly-
ticks puts in his man for president. Ef ono
side wns lo git all tho poiiytick* things would
fall oil like a ineal bag failin’ off when all tlio
grist gits to one end.”
When tho war came sho had a very special
cause for it. County fairs lmd been epidemic
for some years previous, and tho old lady was
firmly of the opinion that they and thoy alone
had brought on hostilities. “Them yankoe.s,”
sho said, “canto down hero ter them fairs and
sow! how much better er country ourn wns ’an
tlieirn, ami then they raised all this row jest
ter git the chance ter steal it.” Homo years
before tills, howover, Mrs. Brent had what was
to her a much more serious trouble. Her ne-
MUs Betsy*
against this particular lover, but on genera]
principles.
The fact was the old lady had cared for the
girl until she had become, in some measure,
the first interest of her life, and she could not
l>ear to be uuimlnuted by husband and children.
But she would have died rather than acknowl
edge this, and put the real reason quito out of
Bight, basing her refnsal on various whimsical
grounds; among others, tho color of tho pro
spective husband, lie was a “yellcr nigger.”
that is a mulatto, and “yellcr niggers” sho did
despise. Ho ho was sent packing when ho
came with a written character from his mas
ter to ask for Pauline. The whole winter
through Mrs. Brent never once let the girl ont
of her sight. For all that, the lovers
In somo v.ay managed to communicate.
briii *
Upon
right March Sunday Paulino
mnip patch, half a mile away, to
cut salad for dinner, anil when Hho cauio back
Bill Davis, tho “yellcr nigger,” was beside
her. Just behind them was llnclo Israel, the
most famous negro preacher in the neighbor
hood. Walking up to the porch ho drnpjtcd
his hat aud prepared to speak, but Mrs. Brent,
divining wli.at had occurred, burst out: “Well,
Israel, I s.pose you’ve been and tacked them
two fools together,nnd have got tho Impudence
to come and tell mo hbout it. Be off with yet
1 won't hear. I’m mUtis of this place, an’ I
tell ye, I won’t have no yellcr nigger enoopin’
•and conjurin’ 'round here.”
“What God gives togedder let no man put
in sunder, net ’ooman nelder,” Israel said
with dignity, walking away. Mrs. Brent
sent after him a vigorous shako of tho fist,
then turned to the bridegroom with, “See
here, Bill Davis, you clear out, and don’t
never set foot on tills place by dayligh. Thar”
1 Minting to a new cabin, “is Panline's house.
; built it for her, to try ter make her satisfied,
but don't you ever let me see you. And tell
Ben Davis, he’s no part of er gentleman or lie
wouldn't never a-let no nigger of hU’n bo so
unnhh m to marry a widder woman’s nigger
when site didn’t want him to. Now remeut-
garden than sho
leaving. Besides there waa tl
they would bo to ono another.
It is onejihlug to form plans; quito another to
put them into execution. After much deliber
ation he agreed with himself that it would l*o
wise not to speak till ho was on ids feet again.
“For,” said ho to himself, “tliar nintno
countln—on wittmieti—and old os sho is, thar’a
a heap er wildcat in hor yit. So, Bon, you Jes
keep er still tongue till you’re at lenst able ter
hop, an then if sho gits too rninpugious, you’ve
got somo show."
When hfs hour of departure came, ho tnadoi
Bill slinve him with more than usual care, put
on a pair of oxtta clean bluo trowsors, a starch
ed shirt, though he had not worn such a thing
in twenty years, a white vrst, his best blue
broadcloth coat, with brans buttons and pigeon
'tails, and to this gorgeous outfit milled a tall
silk hat. hearing the dents of thirty years, and
a hugo flaming, red bandanna handkerchief.
So equipped, ho looked at himself in tho littio
sU-by-cight-miiTor, thou aftera purposeless
turn or two, said scpulchrsJly to his valet,
“BUI!” .
Pauline—would liko ter cornu and flvo ut our
houao?”
“Dat she would, mars’( if only you could
buy 'or, wo’d hab good things to ent as Mina
Betsy. Sho done learnt Paulino all her ways.”
“I know, but I don’t think slic’d sell her.
Go amt ask her to como hero, please. I’ll ask
her plain out.”
Mrs. Brent came instantly, grim and up
right to look at, though in truth a bit nor-
vou*. 8bo knew hor neighbor wns going
away, and dreaded expression of tho gratitude
she was certain ho felt.
it ’ill bo sorter lonesome for Bill an’ mo.
liad good company so long.”
“Well! I reckon you’ll soon get nstcr your
selves again,” Mrs. Brent retorted, “and If
Bill 'ill behave himself, ho may couiu ter sco
Paulino Sundays ns well us nights.”
“But—but—wo’d rather have Pauline tor
cook fer ns,” Mr. Davis hazarded, having nrt-
fully concluded that thus ho could open a way
vis, if
you aro no more of cr gentleman than ter sot
that niggerot youm ter maltin' fun
broke 'stud er your leg.
you know your name, I don’t sell no niggers,
tier buy but jest sccli os I’vo got a use fer, ami
what d’vo come talking that way round mo
fer, I’d like tor know. You know I woou't
part from Pauline/*
Mrs. Brent, after a long minuto of speed
less stupefaction, said to some invisible person:
“Well, did ever you see tho beat crthat7 I
really bclievo the crittor means mo ter marry
him, with ineffable contempt in the latter
I ironoiin. Then with a sudden melting to
augliter: “No, Mr. Davis, I’ll keen ter my
own sido cr tho fenco; but you had better
marry somebody else. I do expect you're
right lotiesomo with no woman around.”
“Desn’rit lonesome. You’d better come.”
urged Mr. Iiavis, beginning to get breath.
Sho shook her head decisively. “No,” sho
said. “I’m a fa'ar minded person. Thar ain’t
inor’n husbands enough iu tho world to go
round, nnd I’ve boil my sheer. If I took
yon, too, some other woman'll eo without.”
“Bho’ll go without any way," said the dis
consolate Davis. “There aint nary notheroue
tor suit mo in all Montgomery county. Fact
Is, you’re wnth all the rest of ’em over I clap
ped eye* on.”
Mrs. Brent went to the door and called gent
ly; “Wiliyom, come in. Your master is ready
to go homo,” then putting a kind, linn liana
on her suitor's shoulder, “Go along, and l»e-
hav o yourself. Wo needn't marry, uer neither
quarrel.” Ho went, but came again and yet
again. He never In any way alluded to lilt
dismissal. The two became tho best of friends.
When ten years later, Betsey Brent was laid
«lown beside “father” and “lit tie Abram,” Mr.
Davis remarked to the depths of his damn ban
danna, “Betsey Brent lias died os she lived—
know in’ and doin' an’ havin’ more to lier
chance'than any man about here.”
ONLY A CONVICT.
By WALLACE P. REED.
For The Constitution.
Bang, bang, bang!
There was a patter of feet along tho dasty
road.
Tho Sonora looked up from her sowing Just
in time to see a young man, clad In tho coarse
garb of a convict, rush Into tho littio summer-
liouso where sho was sitting.
“Save mo!” cried tho panting fugitive.
“My lifo is at stake!”
Ono glance at tho man’s faco decided tho
lady. She heard tho stops of tho punmera.
“Under hero I Quick 1” was her imperious
onler.
Joso Garcia, In spite of Ms alarm, could not
restrain a .smile! But it was no tlmo to hesi
tate. Without a word he crawled under tho
folds of tho light fabric on which tho lady was
pying her noctllo, nnd which rippled over her
lap nnd lay piled up at her feot.
“Sitting with his back against the Benora’s
knees, tho convict was securely concealed
from view.
Itjwas not a moment too soon. An officer,
with a squad of soldiers, appeared at tho door
of tho 8ummcr!iouno.
“The convict, 8enora, did you sco him?”
inquired tlio officer, breathlessly.
k“I hoard shots, nnd tlio footsteps of somo
ono running rapidly,” replied tho lady. “By
nil means search tho plnco before you leavo.”
With effusivo thanks, tlio officer at onco
proceeded to search tho grounds, nnd tho
Scnora’a liouso was also subjected to a cluso
scrutiny.
“Again I thank you,’’ said the commander
of tho squad, approaching tho summerhouso;
“hut tho villain is not hero, and we must be off
In a hurry.” .
Ho waved Ills hand gracefully, nnd disap
peared with his soldiers down the rood.
Joso Garcia emerged from under his pro
tecting cover.
Ho was a man of small statute, singularly ac
tive nnd wiry, nnd his face might liavo been
called handsoino. It certainly did not look
like a convict’s face.
“Sonora, you have saved my life,” ho said
in a voice of deep emotion.
“Then I mu very glad,” answered tlio lady.
“Perhaps I was wrong, but I could not seo you
liuntcd down ond shot liko a wild beast.”
Hho looked at his costuiho nnd shuddered.
“Doubtless you aro a very bad man," sho
continued, “or thoy would not liavo trlcd to
kill you. But I wanted to glvo you a chftneo.
I ‘ liopo you will jut away; and, if you feel
grateful to me, do try to keep out of trouble.”
Joso gavo n low laugh. HU bold eye s for
the first time took in the little lady comphtoly.
Hqjiotcd her pale faco wifli tho lines of suffer-
<hg around tho^yn. .Thesr ho looke4 ItJ.er'
Flndkf eostutha. .
jftrTko ,jom I* •* lie- r I, p : ‘; »rgiy ;
rust that sho has good friends. Sho «lc*
“Oh, no,” waa tlio hasty reply, “My hus
band lives. Ho Is Dr. Miratuon,” and sho
drew lioraolf np proudly. “I wonr block," sho
resumed, “bccanso ho is A prisoner, ond there
is no hope that Iio will over bo restored to mo.
But ho wears n» convict stripes. His offenso
was political. You mny liavo hoard of his
pamphlet.”
Joso Garcia had heard of It. llo know that
Dr. Miramon had been arrested because he lmd
written against tho government.
“This littio placn,” said the Bcnoria, “Is not
mine. I rent it ami live hero with two old
servants, who aro devoted to we/ But for
thorn thoro would bo nothing In store for mo
but starvation. It maizes littio difference,
perhaps, as my husband’s health Is giving way
under his cruel confinement, and his death
will bo tho signal for mine.”
Tho shades of evening were falling, ond the
lady gathered up her work with tho evident
intention of going to tlio house.
“If I can over help you, Sonora,” said tho
convict earnestly, “I will at any cost. Ten
thousand tlmnks fur your kindness. Adlos!”
And Jose Garcia darted off across tho road,
and into tho forest, taking good care not to
heud in tho direction of Havana, only a milo
or so away.
When morning dawned Garcia found him
self at the cabin of ono of Ms ohl companions
In crimo. He entered boldly nnd was heartily
welcomed, and provided will* a breakfast and
a change of garments,
* Although a robber liko Garcia, tlio darcllor
in tho cabin was trno to his friends, and in
Some things honebt to a fault.
When Gomez heard tho Btory of Garcia's
escape lie opened his eyes with an exclama
tion of astonishment.
“I am sorry for tho good Sonora,” ho said.
“Her husband Is a clever man. llo was sen
tenced to pay a fine of ten thousand dollars or
bo imprisoned ten years. He cannot pay tho
fino, and bo will dlo in less than a year.’’
Garcia scratched his head and looked
thoughtful. Tiicn ho stepped outside and did
some serious thinking.
“You pig-headed robber!” Ho was address
ing himself. “You jail-bird, yon have just ono
chance to make a man of yourbclf. There will
be o reward offered for you and it will bo a big
one, probably ten thousand dollars. Sooner or
later yon will bo canglit anyhow. Why not
trick tlio government ont of that reward and
roako the little Sonora happy by securing her
husband’s liberty ?”
The idea appeared to tickle Garcia. Ho
laughed immoderately, and then wiped away
a tear.
“I am going crazy, I think,” was his next
remark, “but I ought to be willing to do any
thing for the Benora. It does not matter
whether I die now or got shot In tho bock by
the soldiers a few weeks later.”
As Joso Garcia promenaded up and down
In his friend's garden talking to hlmnelf, the
hard lines in his face gradually vanished. A
softer look camo into his eyes. Ho stood
erect, and he was the lost man that would
kayo been taken for a hunted convict.
“I must talk with Gomez,' 1 bo said, “and
have him manage it. I’ll make him swear to
do It.”
There was a quiet talk between tho two
friends, and Gomez, after many objections and
protests, finally agreed to slip into Havana,
and find out tho situation.
„ At 10 o’clock that night ttvo cloaked figures
entered tho gate at tho Captain General’s
K lace. One of them had hi* arms pinioned
iiind him, but his cloak hid bis coudition
from tho passers-by.
It took fierce and earnest solicitation to ob
tain an audience with the Captain General, but
the strangers at last found themselves In tho
presence of that awful functionary.
“X bring yon Joe* tiarcla, tho famous robber
oml murderer, for whom your oxcollency baa
offered ten thousand dollars, dead or alive,”
said Gomez, In a swelling, boastful tone.
He stripped off Garcia’s hat and cloak, and
tho nrisoner hung his head.
“You liavo dono well,” said the Captain
General, eyeing Gomez sternly; “but how waa
this red-handed desperado captured?”
“I found him asieop in the woods,” waa the
glib reply, “nnd knowing tho rascal’s faco only
too well, for ho robbed mo once of all I had, X
jumped upon him and hound him.”
ThoCuptnfn General called on officer who
looked closely at Garcia.
“Ho is tho umn,” was Ills brief report.
“And tills follow?” said tho Captain Gen
eral haughtily, imintlng to Gomez.
“I don’t liko fils faco,” replied tho ofiloer,
but ho lms no vet been in my I Kinds.”
“Bee that ho gots his money thon," com
manded tlio other, “and liavo a filo of moo
tako the prisoner to tho eostle.”
Bo Garcia was inarched off in ono direction*
and Gonioz wns lod off in another.
Joso Garcia knew very well what his fat«
would lie. Ho had been tlio ciiiof of a baud of
robbers for five years, anil during that time ha
lmd dono nil tlio mischief that could be dona
with fire and sword. Ho bad tlio pillaged th®
Cnptuin General's own plantation, lie lmd
even given his activo support to a revolu
tionary movement.
Yet tlio follow slept sonmlly that night, after
ho lmd been lodged in tlio castle, and ill tlio
morning tlio ubsencu of anything in the shape
of breakfast Aid lint seem to disturb him.
“The dovilJ” ho oxclahncd with a grin,
later in tho day, whon n soldier entered lifm
cell nnd tied ills hands behind his bn'dr. “I’ll
get Nomctliing solid in my stomach pretty
soon.”
The prisoner allowed himself to bo marched
into tint court yard without a murmur. lid
took hi* stand unconcumodly, and smiled upon
the soldiers.
“Take good aim,” ho said, and then ho whis
pered : “I wonder what tho Henora would think
of it?”
He fell dead at tho first volley.
• •••••
A week later Dr^Miramon and the Sonora
Joined lire Cuban colony at Key West.
To tho astonishment of tlio doctor and ovenr-
body else somo unknown friend hod paid hit
Him and scoured Ills release.
The transaction lmd been conducted by*
nrloKt who refused to make any explanation.
Ho merely stated that ho waa tlio agent of oiv
other,
Tlio Mirnnions did net feel snfo In Cuba,
and it is not likely that they will evor return.
To tills day they remain in utter Ignorance of
tlio fact that Mirainon’a freedom cost a poor
WAS SOT ABDUCTED,
An Incident tlmt Htartlcs Paris—A Countess
Disappear*^ '
New York, Juno 48.—A Fori ; dispatch to
the Itorald lays that society lias a now sensa
tion in a romantic' abduction—fftrana
Lj***en« vi.WfCT
lunch, and Marshal MaeMuhoh ail l hi* daugh
ter I rotting townnl tlio FauiKuirg 8t. fl"nnn\n,
Ml! . Mercedes MartinezU.wn|*>s, wild, with
lirrnmid, wns oirlng her beauty in the sun
light, had reached a point In thonvonuo known
as tlio Club dos Bnnncs, whon a group of mon,
wearing masks, darted from bolilnd a clump ot
trees hi tho avenue, which was crowded at tho
time, whipped Milo. Mercedes Into o car
riage, and drove off at a gallop unmoh stod.
Tlio mold, who is strongly suspected of hav
ing been an uecompllco In this extraordinary
affair, declares that at least ten men took purl
In tlio abduction, but sho cannot swear to nny
of their faces.
She says that she woo so taken aback by tho
suddenness of tlio attempt that olio coaid nol
collect hor wit* enough to cry for help. As for
tlio bystanders, they fancied tho wliofo tiling a
Joko and did not interfere.whilo tho victim—or
heroine—of tho drama offered so littio rcsiaU
ance as almost to justify the belief that aha
rather liked being carried off than othi
y an ..
doctors. The chief offender Is supposed to 1 _
a young, dashing but impoverished viscount,
ujmu whom tlio black oyos and fortuno of
Mile. Campos liavo inndo a great Impression.
It is said that ho had rccourso to violence in
tho hnpo that? tho scandal would force tho
Indy's family into consenting to tho marrfago,
J r A*ni, Juno 18.—As a result of inquiries in
the Campos alxluciion case, tho potieo are
of the opinion that tlio affulr was prearranged
as both parties r.ro of ago. The police wilt
not Interfere. Tlio alleged abductor Is said to
M. Delntour Oarbncuf. It is said that ha
wrote a letter to tlio young ludy instructing
her to wear a light dress if she was willing to
accompany him; olherwiso to wear a dark
dress.*. On tho duy Indore tlio alleged abduo-
tion, It 1* reported that tha lady Implored her
milliner to 1m punctual with a new light dress*
nnd it is said that sho wore tho same dress in
tho Bols do Boulogne. Ex-Queen Isabella
does not boliovo that lady couscutcd to go and
has written a letter to the authorities asking
them to pursun tho matter further. Ail kinds ;
of minors are lu circulation, hut no facts can
bo learned. *
Tho mau with whom tho Countess Campos
left Franco fa Viscount Dclatoar Gnrboeuf.
Tlio couple went to Antwerp and will go from
there to England, where they will bo married,
Tlio countess has written to tho papers saying
that her object in mnningoff with the viscount
wns to secure her relenso from her oppressor*
ami to regain her liberty. The fortuno of thr
countess Is estimated at 97JKJ0JUQ0.
Honesty’s Dividend.
From the Omslia World.
Robinson—I had to discharge young Bllnklnj
today, llo wss not honest.
Drown—Sorry to hear so. lie rapports his wid
owed mother, too. What wss the trouble?
Itohiiison—Do found s pastaco stamp on the floor
and kept it. lie should have turned it over to thtf
Jirown—Of course. By the way, It’s joining: Got
an extra umbrella?
Robinson—’You can take toy old umbrella. I bare
a new one.
Drown—Hello! Where did you get that silk affair.
Uobinson—That? Haf ha! Great Joke. Yen seo, t
went into the stock exchange to look after a littla
deal In wheat. A shower came up, and when I wan
ready to go I just picked this up in the lobby.
Drown—WUh I hod your luck. And bow about
the wheat deal.
lloblnson—Oh, we skinned 'em alive, Drowns
skinned 'em alive.
A Trifle BkUtfsh but Fnll of Vim.
From the Aroostook, Me., North Star.
Hero is Aroostook with her winter blankets
stripped off, In her sleek and smooth summer coat
amt her tail over the dasher, showing a 2 JO gait,
and Mr. Atwood Is going to bring a party up here ta
seo her making the first quarter, lie gives them ta
understand that It doesTnot rcquireVjalr of Mexican
spurs and a rawhide to get the speed out of this ani
mal, and that, compared with poor plow-jogging
Penobscot, tiomere*, Kennebec, etc., showing thels
ribs and lopping their taw, hew is a county of met
tle; a climate that has lu ears pricked up in push,
and growth; a region with plenty of At oa Its rflg
aud that does not show its hip-bone* In Juat,
^ INDISTINCT PR1HT |