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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 |