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VOL. XXV IL—NO. 17.
A HUMAN FIRE OPAL.
BV MAUD ANNULET ANDREWS. ,
* —■" 1
The strangest story I ever heard was an
absolutely true one.
It u is told me in a queer, rickety little
lo I ting downtown in New Yorit. This
lodging house was in the artists’ part of
the city.
Mine was a sky parlor—an airy apart
ment, very roomy, in fact, as its furni
ture was light and scanty, it was lather
a cheery little place, though, for I made
the walls bright with studies brought home
every day from the h ague. But it is not of
I w I tell you. My story con -
erm, tiie woman who, at the time 1 recall,
o • npied the room next my own.
She was a great artist, and had made a
name n* ).<T"eif. Her room was furnished
in the • h- t kind < f way. 1 had never seen
anyth!) g like it before, and it. reminded me
of the lie-vript ions of rooms in harems.
The room was an artistic oasis in a
d ert of broken-leg tables and broken
back chairs an 1 rough, bare floors.
Why, Zelda- I will not call her the name
she was known by in the city—chose to
live there was a mystery.
She was beautiful beyond all power of
Site was a dark woman, with waving,
dusky hair which fell below her knees. She
was tall and lissom, yet exquisitely curved
and rounded. Her arms and limbs were
long, ; lender and tap ring, ami her !>»■<
and hands were small and dimpled a a
child's.
She was always lying down when not
kneeling at h< r easel, ami as she lay full
length upon a divan s’ e Impressed me nto.-t
strangely. Though every limb was appa
rently motionless, her whole body seemed
to be vibrating as if strung upon electric
threads. 1 have watch d her sot hours with'
fascinated eyes as she 1: y thus at full
length with tier rose-le.it eyelids closed upon
lu r pansy eyes, and her soft littie hands
ci.o ', cd above her graceful In .. I.
’l’ll-.* closed lips <■■ ii '.mtly quivered, ami
the muscles about the exquisite mouth
drew themselves into passionate lines of
pain. 1 could feel that every drop of blood
in her w hole body was surging through h r
veins in response to some maddening mem
ory*, and I fancied, il 1 touched her, that
her soul would be revealed to mine like
the physical conveying of electricity.
night, as she lay tills way. she lifted
her lids, and her ey -s shone softly upon
•
1 vent and sat on the floor beside her.
She took my face between her velvety, mag
netic b inds, and kissed me tenderly upon
the eyelids.
■ makes you bo sorry for me? ’ she
.med, imp. : uousl'. "You suffer so, I
want to help you; and yet you can’t be
In i. . I. ' : • 1 it that you can't by ?.tlp.-J,
some way .”
ri • turned hi r hem! silently away, and
her body quivered as though 1 had struck
her a teriible llow?
“I ou...ht not to be sorry for you.” I went
on. “The idea of a poor little struggling
art' t being sorry* for a biaiitiful woman
wl > has fame and name, is al trd.”
The win s s. '/iiied to sting her. She arose
and began t - pace the floor swiftly.
* .- itm- and name!” she <•’*!• d, casting the
For is from her scornful lips and flinging
them away with a pas.-ionate gesture. “Is
fame and name what happiness means to
you? Ah, you have not lived long!”
“I am not much younger than yourself."
"Suffering, and not years, tells the length
Os one’s days.”
Her dark ■ yes w. re looking far away into
something unknown to ni". and sh- seemed
to have forgotten my presence. She arose
as if in a trai.-e, and commenced pacing
the door with that quick, noiseless tread—
a tread that you f- It instead of heard. Her
eyes looked straight before her, steadfast,
brilliant, like tropical stars.
I v cln I her, strangely enchanted. 1
w ader-d that the vi ry pictures did not vi
brate to her electrics t movements. I won
dere uii - an 1 what she was, and where
the earn from, this strange, beautiful, tor
tured creature.
I aid not know that night, for in a few
moments she turned upon me and bade me
di part, and 1 could not gainsay her com
mand.
A month passed, and the beautiful
creature seemed to grow more restless every
day. i felt that some pain was burning her
life to ashes, and that the end soon would
come. 1 watc’nd her with tender anxiety,
but dared not question or sympathize. She
had forbidden.
One nigh; I shall not forget it to my dy
ing day—the snow had shrouded the world
as L lay in my b< 1 listening to the strange
tread .f the Woman in the next room. The
moonlight, creeping through my little win
dows, ma ghostlike figures in the dark
ness. 1 saw weird faces in the corners,
and. look where 1 would, I fancied a white
hand pointing toward the room whence
came the quick, pulsating treads.
1 felt moved to leave my bed. I was cold
and tremulous with terror as 1 opened my
door and do. d it noise! -sly behind me.
I crept to Z'.ddu'S door and knocked soft
ly. No .i.swir came. J knocked again,
loudly this time.
"Who’s that?” she cried.
Once more I knot ked without replying. T
felt, somi way, that if I answered she
v.'H.id command me to go and leave her. I
could not return in the darkness to that
p . n:i:.i hand. I must see this woman. 1
fi.lt that ;■ nne strange power within me
w ni l make me burst open the door if she
would not unlock it.
••<;., . -way!” .-1 • called. “I don’t want to
see any bn *. I'il not open the door. Go
away, i tell you!”
I knocked loudly again and again, until
I 1.. aid her swift tread coming toward the
.. and then the b >lts w ere soft ly di iw n.
I lifted the latch and enten d. My bewil
dered eyes saw a glittering, brilliant vision
raise two lone, jewel-encircled arms, and
give a low, terrified cry as it shrank it.to a
corner.
"Co av.'av go away!” she shrieked, hid ng
her b j al h 1 face in her hands. “I mur
der, I you 1 murdered you with your baby
at vm’tr breast! Ah! you w< re •so white,
so white, with your snow skin and your
gold h.dr and your gentian eye.-! Heaven
eyes they were, and I sent them to heaven—
ba ha! 1 sent them to heaven!”
y ll( arose like a vengeful goddess, her
fa. e alight with terrible hate ano passion.
She in id a jeweled dagger in he* -..pi le
brown hand. and she looked ..
if she would thrust its glit
tering blade through my h» irt the
next instant. 1 thought she had gone sud
denly mad, and remembering that gentle
ness with in ini ics was more • tractive than
anger. I la: 1 my hand upon her shoulder
and called her name sol Uy.
Xt the sound of my Iht L e ant
attitude charged completely. She dropped
her hands listlessly, and a slow, pained.
• comprehensive look overspread her counten
ance.
I "Oh It Is von!” she sa’.df, in a strange,
I exhausted whisper. "What—what made
you come here in your white nightgown,
with your yellow hair all down, and your
great blue ey.-s so wide and solemn? You
looked like like- ”
"Some ba ' dream you had been dream
ing,” I suggested.
She shock her le ad, and regarded me with
burning, fateful eys.
As she stood looking Into my face I ob
aciw cd Ihe gow n she w ore. She looki d as
if robed to r< pr. . "lit Byron's "fluide ” at.
a fancy ball. Her tiny naked feet were in
ca linf Id Turklsh slipp i’, set with ru
bies and o| :'!s. J r silken skirt, as fine as
summer mist, was white, embroidered in
gol ien ro;*''■’. Ib'r gold-embroidered velvet
jaeio t opened over a chemise of tim :*t lace,
’which was confined at the waist by :i
heavy golden girdle, inlaid with precious
stones; and diaivonds and rubies Hashed
upon her at *. and. perfect b m
the sol ni hi of h r tri « 8 Ity a wi ith
ol p. 11l roses, which confined the veil of
silken tissue that fell from thence to her
feet. She w is radiant, wonderful the per
somiie ition of tropic.i) riehm ss -ind glory.
"I was nt'iriid in this robe,” she said.
"1 feel "'..it I must tell yeti my story.”
Siu thru ’ the dagger through her girdle,
and d: iwi’ig rie to a cushion b ide her
divan, sh-- stretched her beautiful figure
out lull length All excitement had left her
fa.ee. She v. as now as calm and Impassive
as most women when ready to relate a
I friend’s tragedy.
She turned and fastened her eyes noon
I mine with a compelling gaze as she began
I her story:
"I wa- .i Persian maiden, not nobly boin,
I but wealthy. I had seven beautiful sisters,
but 1 was the fairest of them all. I*Tom
< hil ; >od I wa *1 ' | -i in the lint st
raiimut and fed on tin daintii t loud, and
1 soon understood that 1 was to be so Id
to adorn a nobleman’s bar at. I m ’ura’ly
, wondered over my destiny, but I’ers an
j women are like canaries, rhe vines of
I their souls -ld<>m b< at against tin I irs of
I custom, i pictured tin- I- aatiiul p.il.i that
should o’*i' day I ■ iny home. 1 dr. an ed of
i the i: y tai I" intaias, the Howers, the ,i< w
i el-studded walls, the music, ;* nt as the
I odor of jasmine; the dancing :u. I i.i -ni
; nient among my c<nnpani->ns. My husband
j was nevi r pictured in my vi- lvii *. I'iie hus
! baud of many wiv s meant little t.j me.
i lie would !>.. a master, aa old man, ftci .i
--j biy, with a long, white oe.trd and a ■■ 7ii,
■ enrtm Hiding is--.'. Sa ll man wa my
; father, a d I knew no other. W hen 1 was
i sixteen my’mother came to me one morn-
■ lo to thy apartmi nts, Zelda,
I ('nil thy maidens will prepare thee for a
i visiter.’
"1 obe'.od, and my maidens bathed me,
and sea". ■ ! a't.ir of •.*•>>( ■ in the water
"Then th y anoint, u my hands with
scented baiui and stained my polished rails
i with benna.
“An 1 tiiey put this rr.be and these jewels
i up< n me, and they lookt d upon me as
though I v. • -re an angel, and said J was
b-autiful. T! :t was b n y -i'.rs ago, and it
j was true. 1 was the faiiest maiden in all
Persia, t.s 1 w-nt to my husband with this
i white veil falling over my face.
"I opr ru'd tiie doer of my fathers apart
ment an! entered softly, not lifting my
eyes. 1 lilt my veil drawn gently aside,
and iift .ig uj: my lb!.. I saw the only
heaven iny eyr-s will ever rest upon.
"The man whose beautli'ul eyes looked
I down to drink the life’s libation of iny
own was tall and of a noble presence. He
was lair, and his eyes were blue and gray,
as though the sea and sky had married
i within them.
I “Oh, Allah!” she cried, starting up and
pressing her hands upon her heaving I reast,
"imw I Joyed him—how 1 loved him!”
Her I'l'i ati;id . ice was rapturous, des
pairing. Calming herself, she continued:
"ife took my face between his dear hands
i anti kissed me lull upon the lips. 1 was
iriyhtemd and tremulous. What did I know
i of love? I felt as the dark world must have
I at the sun’s first ray. He saw my lips
a-trembling un i the tears in my eyes, and
he put his arms about me and drew me
unto him. Turning, he said to my father:
‘She is more beautiful than an angel could
dream of. 1 will buy her at any cost.’
" Buy!’ The words cut me like a knife,
and 1 turned to my father, pleadingly, and
“ ‘Nay, I pray thee, let me give myself to
I this man. 1 will buy myself from thee
j W’itli my dowry.’
“But my lather laughed, and called me
j a silly child; and my lover held me so close
: ly in his arms that my thought was dead
I to everything save his presence and his
i heart beating passionately against my
' own.
"He was the son of a wealthy pasha, the
' man who t >k me to his palace that even
ing. It was such a mansion as I had pic
tured, s 0.. Hi: t the master had changed,
i and his name was Love.
j "The beautiful gates sprung apart at his
knock, and he said to the eunuchs awaiting
■ his bidding:
“ ‘Tell the handmaidens of your mistress
1 who await her in her chamber to depart. 1
myself will attend her.' Then lie leaned
over mo and whispered, in passionate tones,
as he kissed my cheek: ‘1 will be the one
’ true slave of my darling forever.’
! "With bis arm atwut me he led me
! through the h I y marble halls. Itwasnight-
■ time, and jeweled lanips gleamed like glow
worms against the silken hangings. It was
1 warm and odorous, and r.iy heart was
w’arm and laden with love, as the night
: air was laden with fragrance. 1 wulk-d
: on a cloud of soft sounds in a beautiful
dream, in the gardens the nightingales
mingled their sap-anos with the crooning
allo of falling waters. Brom the balconies
tl- at -d the music of mandolin and Hute,
blewk'd with laughter and the tripping of
"1 was silent and freighted with happl
! ness, a: a Hower freighted with honey,
i an ! the whispered words of my love were
i sweeter than heavenly music.
i “Drawing aside the rich curtains of my
' sleeping apartment and entering therein,
my belov-d reelined upon a low divan,
and drawing me down upon his knees, he
■ put Lis arms about me.
"My heart quivered like a leaf in a sum
, mer wind, and lying thus upon his bosom,
a great b-ar and misery entered ny soul.
"Were there any other women here—wo
men who were his legitimate wives or
slaves?
"1 he thought of this made me hate wo
' men so, thiit, rather than share his love
with >ne of them, I’d have seen the whoh
I se> dead befo. e m".
"1 was aii-iHd t< ask the terrible ques
tion. It seemed like standing at the door
! of death aid asking waeC".:’ I must go to
I h .;•,*.*n or hell. I drew myself out (I his
! embrace, and pi'icin*.:* re. hands on bls
<. (nildeil looked into the heaven el h;s
I eves an 1 asked: .
I •••is there tiny other woman hme who is
I your wife, or is there any slave you tr. a,
i * l "Aiid he answered, drawing me up closely
■ again to ms dear breast: ,
“ 'No, mv beiovea one; thou art lie l ist
1 and the last.
"And it was true. It was true for a year,
ATLANTA, GA., MONDAY, APBIL 23, 1894.
I and we dwelt among the stars with
the angels, because we were tar
I ‘happier than creatures of earth could
| ever be. The days fell as softly upon our
lives as the rose leaves tell upon the crys
tal lakes. Ah, Allah, how 1 loved him!
1 loved him! And could he not have been
content to render me such love as I gave
him to love me alone? Was 1 not lair
enough for any mortal man?
“One night, as 1 lay in the arms of my '
love in the garden, lie leaned over me and
iiis eyes sought, my own, and I saw in their
i depths the dark water pf trouble, and sinh
I a shade as I h id ne’er seen before o’eieast
his countenance. Ilfs white lips parted as
if to break the news of death, and he said:
" ‘My beloved, 1 have something to tell i
tine that 1 would have acquainted thee
with long ago.’
“And 1 said: ‘Speak on.'
“‘Long before I looked upon thy face I
my father had betrothed me. to a daughter
of a Wi aithy pasha, and Hie time has n.:w I
: come lor me to wi d her, and 1 am bound ,
! by my honor to do so, and also for tin; i
i keeping oi my father's word,’ he said.
'1 tore myself from his arms like a. <b>i; ;
j from the I -h of Us master. Standing up I
j to m;> lull height, I looked down upon. Lim
; with eyes that must have seorehed hi. i
i faec, for he shielded it with one of ills loi I
while bands that had been clasped al;m < I
I Ills In ad j
i "1 cried out in my misery and despair,
and mj voice was Hill of ti.< grea l love
| and th< pain in my heart.
" ' u do 'i ’t me.in.’ <i said, ‘that y..'i
I will live with this woman as you have
I lived with me? She must be your wife' in j
■ name alone, it cannot be otherwise. If h ,
i is, I shall die.’
i “‘Yeu talk like a silly child,’ he sa d .
i einhug his haughty lip.*. *.Ho you not un- ;
I dvr. land that this woman is to be iny ■
1 lirst wife the mother of my heirs? Map 1
| you not been reared in Hie customs of our ;
country and our faith? Why are you so •;
I unreasonable?’
i ".And 1 replied: ‘Yes, 1 am unreasonable, j
! if tinteasoi able is to expect in return tiie
love I give- if it means to be all in all to
I the one who is all in all to me, yes, «1 am
I ur reasonable.’
I "Then, because of the love I bore him. :
1 and because of the mastery of his grew.
i eyes, 1 knell down bes.de him anil put my ,
j arms about him tenderly, and kissed him j
i upon the forehead again and again. It j
j si'vim d but yesterday that 1 did this, and
1 i.-ati hear my voice as then, pleading to ,
j him and saying, *Ho not do this cruelty to i
i me, my own one, my beloved, my life. Ah,
l J will make myself wise a.in great because
i of my love for you. 1 will turn from thy
I toy to thy companion, and study all the
■ learned books that thou r< adest, if thou
' wilt but be my teacher. J>o not let us live
In this country!’ I implored. ’Let us go to a |
iand where a man weds Inti one woman, >
and she is tils friend and h.s companion.’
‘‘‘Thou art either a mad woman or ’ a |
fool,’ he said, contemptuously. ‘I want no I
; siteh woman: and if thy life here does not I
pl -.i... thee, go and Had seme other thou ,
| likest I- Her.’
"As his cruel words stabbed my heal t
. .
i so man * >1 us yearn over men who glee >
| no be. d to the faith and dove in tur hearts. I
"1 turned :n sil< nee away, like one siait- !
i ten blind by lightning. From that day !
■ the steps of my soul wandered in the dark !
halls of hatred and sin. I locked the doors j
I against my eru 1 master, and 1 loved and i
hated him as only a woman can tiie lover ■
: who has stoh n with honey the heart from I
I her b '.m but to till it with gall.
“A week passed after our interview, and I
' then eaine m\ hu; '..anu's bridal lea. i. with ,
. his new' brale.
"I ca.nm t describe the agony of nil that
: terribh tim-. My days were despairing,
■ and my nights knew no rest. The wo
: man s gulden hair was tangled up in my
dreams, t I emed to h -* 1 ■ it silken
. face. i know it was wi n I Hi.nk sanely
’ upon it. But cursed be her soul, how I
! hated her!”
Th; sp. il-er's beautiful lips jvere distort
!ed by bitter feeling. Her eyes burned like
I torches in her ashen face, and net* words
1 hissed through her tveth like hot iron
| throtr.'.n water. She li-.iped up, and com
me, el pacing tiie floor again with that
strange, restless tread.
"Yi-.*," she cont.nued, "I hated her—
hated her with as much passion as I loved
him. Hate follows its object as devotedly
as iove, and she was seldom out oi my
sight. 1 bribed the slaves and obtained
the keys to her apartment. I stole into
i the jasr iin -seented night, and heard In i
' soft, warm kisses upon the lips of my be
loved. 1 knelt and prayed that the sweet
night air might be turned into poison and
kill me and the cause of my misery. I
, wished the world consumed by fire. I
■ wished that the sun would rise no more—
that 1 might wander on in tiie darkness,
crying my heart out until oblivion came.” i
She paiiseil a, moment, and from her white i
save flickered a strange, ghastly .smile; and I
then, like Hie crash of winds after light-
1 ning, came a mad, triumphant shriek.
I "1 killed her! 1 killed her!” she cried. "I j
' stabbed her the night her newborn babe
i lay sleeping on her white breast. See,
■ her heart stains tire still on my dagger.
; Ah, they are sweet —sweet!’’ and she show
ered passionate kisses upon the shining
blade. |
1 felt myself g*row cold and white with j
horror. I trembled to look on her face, I
yet I could not move. She enchained me ;
like some wild, devouring lire before which ■
one stands spellbound.
Seeming to come back to my presence i
from her mad fury, she looked upon my .
blanched face and smiled.
"1 see you are frightened,” she said; |
"but you needn’t be. 1 shall never kill
another woman; I shall never want to.” i
She sank weariij down at my l'*et as |
she took one of my hands in her own, and :
1 felt as if an electric shock had passed
through my body.
"There’s little left to tell,” she continued,
in a weary voice. "1 bribed my attendants,
drugged her nurses, and killed her without
a sound. Then through the gates of the
palace .1 fled into the night, carrying with
me a fortune in precious stones, 1 reach
ed England safely, and set sail for Amer
ica. 1 learned the language and opened
this studio. I was a born artist and a.
beautiful woman. i’eople of high degree
patronized me. I gained love and fame,
and the world caled the fair bohemian an
enviable creature.”
Her last words were pronounced with a
sarcasm and anguish indescribable.
My heart went out in pity to her. I
stooped and kissed her hot cheek.
"I don't think happiness can ever come
to you in this life,” I said; “but you may
find peace in eternity by repentance.
"I have nothing to repent,” the said, :
turning her great eyes proudly upon me.
“1 have committed no crime. Suppose a |
man loved and married you, and you found 1
him unfaithful. What court would convict '
you if you murdered his mistress? I tell
you the man 1 loved was mine mine alone. •
It was the devil in his heart that made '
him desert me. The woman was as guilty j
as he. 1 killed the woman. I loved the i
man.” i
"But,” said I, “the customs of your court- |
try—” j
“Customs cannot prescribe human feelings >
and justice. 1 killed the woman, and
kill her again. if she had a thousand
lives I’d kill her each time she arose xroni
her bier.”l
"I suppose your husband married othei
women after this,’’ L said.
wish M return and murder them, too.
"No; but if 1 should lind myself again
within his walls, and see that he had a
hundred wive , 1 would sever the throat ot
each one, as she slept, with tills same
blade.”
Her vindictive, relentless passion
was so frightful that my liaiiil
quivered and grew icy wit Inn
her own. A soft change crept siowly across
her face, like sunlight across a snow lie.il,
"It is not her blood that makes my
heart ache so. It is his fi.ee,” _she said,
with her own uplifted like i saint s, and
her voice vibrating into inliuitely sweet
and tender tot es. . ,
■ , ■ t. i his face alway t, always! I see
It everywhere. It never leav s me. I pen
canvas I have immortalized his beauty, and
w-'hen 1 het:i" people deciare that 1 have
painted the beautiful countenance ot a
heathen god amt giv.-.i to it the glory of
an anchangel, I believe their words, rhe
truth thetvor is written in letters ot blood
on my heart. , » ...
"Ob, it is terrible, terrible to love this
way. You cannot love in this land as in
vou all lov< I his way,” I st:id, "Low
can you live In hnietns without constantly
committing murder?”
"Must wo ,■•/:, ’ she said, “do not love
their They have lovers clandes
tin dy, and these s< Idom prove unfaithlul.
1 was unfortunate I loved mv husband.
She arose asain. ami walk'-d up ll "
down with silent lips and trend. She had
grown cold and white as marble.
Pausing before me presently, she laid lu r
soft little h:imi upon tn- lead and said,
gently but in a. voice of command:
"(Vii io your room now, dear; it is nearly
■ I*l v-da’w li’. Go io sleep now. I ll iw
frightened von. Go to sleep, awl yon will
think this a dr'i ini in tin morning. It will
all !>• well in the morning, you know, for
the il.iybi-.-ak always briw-t me rest.’
I .’ill not. wish to leave her. I felt a
si'*.*iii '. sense of* awe awl uw .i-less. But
she ha I ;*i-« In n. awl 1 silently obeyed.
The !*■ niniwi.-r of Hint night will ever
abide with me. It was horrible, unholy. I
heard a weird voice calling me during the
dark hoii’-s, ns I t. . i r< sth- sly upon my
I. ilio w ; and, look w r - • I would, 1 sa w that
whib', pointing 1 arT
Ida wned, and tne inflight cr pt cnar
jly through the cninks; but ii giive me fto
; i ---’u r: i ni-e. Its beams seemed white mes
sengers. I'Oine with a sad secret. I listened
foi- iho footsteps in the next room, and
thought I heard them pulsating on the
(low- Sure!'* she wa s not wiHting still? I
arose and crept fr-nn my door to he's. I
opened it. and saw before nw, on Hie silken
divan, tiie lifeless figure of the woman, the
riii.j blue.l staining th" gold "f her bowli-",
the dark hair falling about the ivorv shottl
,|,.rs iiße a mourning veil, awl in the deli
cate right wind th* gleaming dagger like
ti o stamen in a lily. And so the dawn had
brought her rest.
I.AST OF Thl'l I.IGHT BRIG ADE.
One of T hree Survivors of AVild Xolnn’s
Hide Is Dead.
The glorious charge of the Light brigade
at Balaklut a has. come down through his
tory and has been celebrated in poetry.
Maliy of you boys and girls have doubtlc: s
read “The Uhargi of the Light Brigade,"
ami remember how tiie poet describes that
awful ride "he ■ he vall.-y of .b ath.
Out of the six hundred gallant soldiers
tl. t . t'arged the Itus.-.ian guns just s'-ven
,rft'.-fem* it'. - <■■'■ ;i:-.a ". ’U' 1 ’ '' that sevent.y
<* l al . . .i i ' • " ’’’
-He " vol' lli.'e. . but \\ Ih-ini Hinwt eno
A- ■-w ' -1.. I > ing : ' two i ■. ■ . 'ri
v. s a "ix Leave wan and fought till* lig'.l
th • hoi r irs of the Crimea, Seba
I * .
bravery he was given U. silver medal witn
four bars a. treasure that ho in-id dearer
than his life.
Tli'? room in which Hibbert died was cov
ered with prints of that famous charge.
Before he died the old veteran told
about the ord'T
which has always
1),,. supposed to
ha ve been a mis
take, and this is
what he said,
pointing at the
print - :
"There, ye see?
There's where we
was goin’ In. 'f lint's
Nolan Captain No
lan, him as brought
tin message that
they had all the
row about. Histo
ry never found out
who sent the no s
sage tor us to
charge them guns,
but Lucan never
sent it. Everybody
always thought
Rakland sent ii to
Cardigan; that was
::. bn lier-in-I
\ Oh,” und old Hib
jb'il sighed aml
j,i: ii'.ok his head, "it
J v .is a pity—a sin
/ t’ul. terrible th.ng.
’ 1 can remember it
as plain as if 1
saw it now, as No
lan rode up anil
. J
/ V**'.3 ’
■u
G ” A u'L
■* , * .. 10 >
'-'*' gave the order.
HIBBERT’S GLORIOUS MEDAL.
"Cardigan turned on him and cried: No
lan, who sent that oi ler?’ No answer. Then
he asked again: ‘Who sent that order.
'Third lime he asked him and all the an
swer Nolan made was-he pointin' to Hie
breastworks: ‘There’s the enemy. Go!’
Then lie dashed on.
"i.'ardigan just threw back his head and
said: Hie ta t.’ For an hour after
that nobody km w what was happening, ex
. "!>t. that wc v.-is runnin’ right into hell,
as the po m sai l. Three miles away. It
looked like a lifetime journey and. the men
began to fall away as the shells yelled
and tore among us. Every time one top
j'led off liis hors ■ near me I thought 1
was goin’ n- xt. The man who expected to
come out of that would, have been crazy.
The four ni'm next me. in front, behind and
on both sides were killed, and, as 1 spurred
on alone. 1 saw a shell coming straight
toward me, straight, straight, ’Hibbert,
ye’re gon<-.’ said 1. But i give just one jab
o’ the spar into that mare .and she leapt
like a 'hot. She swerved. I should tliinK,
a dozen feet and the shell took her nigh
hind leg. 1 went tumoiing. "When I picked
myself ujr there was a. horse without any
rider. I. "i into the saddle and went on
with the rush. It was terrible.”
As Hi - ..(ti m n w.nt on with his story
his pali* face took on color, and his wife,
tears in her s. came over and said,
“Please don't lei him talk so much.”
.1 !;all leiicld <'<»ii<»<|uy.
"Be quiet,” said the veteran, "I’ll be
through in a minute. "Well, sir, as I said,
1 spin r ‘1 this big horse on and 1 passed
Captain Williams.
" Hello, Bill, says he, ‘where's that
in are o’ y o urn ?'
■■ Gone.' says I. ‘A shell struck her. I
found this fellow runnin’ loose.’
"The cap: iln looked at .*ne and says,
’Bill, if 1 get "iick out of this alive you’ll
have a special mention iur that.’ Thai
was the last I saw of him.
"Well, when we got up to about three
hundred yards of the works, they couldn't
train the guns on us, an' We jvs’ lought
the Russians back an’ cut . m down a.i
spiked the guns. That was what we went
for, ye see. We al! hau Lnae spikin’ mal
lets.’' and as he* said this Hi -old fellows
hand intuitively sou"ht his belt, but there
wa:-*. no mallet tin re, nothing save the thick
plaid shawl which was pinned tight about
1 "’l'here,” ho said, after coughing feebly,
“there’s the picture of the cornin’ back.
Ye’ -lilt see it was awful. Only seventy-1 air
eoine out. An’ Nolan was the lust that
hi'd been killed. I saw his body The
ball had cut straight through his chest.
I’hai’- a good picture o’ him up there,a dash
in’ fellow an’ tin wildest Irishman and the
best -01-dier that ever lived. An' that oili
er picture*, that’s Uaruigan.”
“They wanted me to go back to England,
jj U t jt’g to., late now. There s only three
left of the sevontv-four, Sir. Ah’m fahney
in ’t’H be only two before I see you again,
gip. Thank ye l-.r good wishes, though.
And sure enough the next day the old
veteran was dead.
IN AND OF NEW YORK.
AZfIF.S NOTKS, A.VD (lOSSfIT ITEMS
I TtOM THE METHOI-OLIS.
MANUFACTURERS AND THE EXPOSITION.
Harper Rroiliern Send a SI,OOO Check to the
Republican Committee of Thirty—Wo
man buffrage—Coxev Interviewed.
New York, April 15.—Special Correspon
ence.] —It is about timo to recognize the fact
that the mugwumps cannot be trusted, ’the
time wits years ::go when the publications
of the Harper Bus. gave support to the
republican party. Then came the era of
mugwtnnpism and the Harpers wn» with
n’ii-.y others into the camp of tiie enctiiy
awl sin rendered. The revulsion 1. is been a
lon;,* time coming, but it is i'c r-. Harper
Bros, are looking earnestly toward the
j mourners’ bench, and a few wcks at the
most, is expected to bring them to repent
ant knees. As proof of this fact Is a che.-ic
through the I nion League t'litb, to the
republican committee of thirty, which is
now organizing the city for the tall cam
paign. In making the contribution, Henry
Harder say "Wi made a sill'? I'ptii n to
the fund of the vornmittee of thirty bei nnse
we realized that a good work was being
done and we wished to have a hand in it.
We are willing to do ail we can to aid the
committee id’ thirty, but we still declare our
enmity to Mr. I’lalt as a political leader.”
A Rciiiii rka t>!e <■:: in bid*.
Gene ('a: e, who is to I ■■■ i.uried t< day. was
a gambler who has been a fan iliar figure
to New York'-rs for a. great many years,
though it. is doubtful if one-tenth of them
cot’ld tell exactly who he was. He was
a tail man, of athletic and attractive phy
sique, with light liiii:*, eyes and mustache,
and a. manner of < ilm. dclib'ii’ate amiabili
ty. Nobody ever saw him lose his temper,
end he had a quiet and rather singular
manner of talking at ill times. His p t
guy was the assumption that he was a
man of gr-at S: a I tlid |»diti al imp
tanee. Whenever in was invited by a gr.’iip
of friends to go anywhere he would decline
their invitation with some such careless
r< inarl; .is that he would h ive to look into
the Union Ci’.ib and Had Lis f .re'gn mail;
that h< had ai appointment with the g ner
al o I ■
and tl- u H.c.v were u -’ii"- i- iliuT v. ith
Mr i. A tor; tl ff h a cr of his t m
hand had a mud f.-v r blister on ’>i- hoof
ana needed attention, or some rema . ot
a similar nature. Then he would smile in
' an amiable iniinn r, and go off to the Hou
man house or some similar resat. It was
always suppc. eii that his tialiqui! aid
placid manner was assumed to . .Hl'.'.-:1! b’s
emotions midi’r the I:tv. : laid down :*o ably
by John Oakhurst, gambler, but as a mat
ter of fact, Mr. Case's tranquil manner
was dic.ated by the fear which advvays
haunted him that any sudden excitement
w e.ld bring on disease: of the t. art, of
hi h hi '■• * ■ always in mortal dread. It
■ • of this fear h>
I slu .|.| b- ■ > 00. ~J sin h a su ■< .-ssfu!
om y. .- <•> • l 00l -i r i ruhfl,
Nw* York, April 17.—(Special Correspon
dence.Y -Then is some talk of 'tinning Judge
: Albion XV. Toi.rp.- e as the republican can
: did,He for congress in ~Le thirty-foul th dis
trict of this state.
A lew years ago nobody would have
been wild enough to dream of the possibil
ity of Tom-gee’s election, but his partisans
are so mueli encouraged by the dissen
sions among tin d moci’uts that they believe
I their favorite has a good lighting chance.
I Some idea of Tourgee’s policy may be
I gained from the following extract from one
’ of his recent letters:
"T iday tiie power of S/flt'.'ihO ’of colored
citizen:,, denied free spei-i h and the exer
cise of citizenship, is added to the power
of the southern white democracy and used
to impair the wages of the northern labor -r,
th-r -by bringing him litti by little to the
same position of dependence and helpless
ness which characterize labor tiirorighout
the south. Take away from the fn ■■ trade
di.niocr.o y of the south th" sixty odd seats
it holds in congress by means of the de
nial of free speech and the rights of citi
zenship and northen industry would not
be paralyzed by the threat of repeal of
protective tariff, on which Hie comfort
and prosperity of millions of northern homes
depend.”
It is to be hoped that he will be nomi
nated. the democrats cannot beat him
they cannot beat anybody.
'i’Jie Atlanta Exposition.
The leading merchants and ir inufactu
rers of the east are watching the Atlanta
exposition with a great deal of interest.
A prominent business man said to your
correspondent today:
"\V, lind it very expensive to send com
mercial travelers through Hie West Indies,
Mexicoil and Central and South America,
and we have no concerted plan of action.
It w ill b< cheaper and n ctoi y f r
us to join hands with the Atlanta people
and send our best exhibits and our best men
to the exposition. Tlirre we shall meet
the representatives of the countries south
of us and it will be an easy matter for us
to come to an understanding. When we
meet the for.-ign visitors and let tie m know
wh it we have to sell and what w<‘ wish to
purchase mutual self interest will lead
to closer trade relations.
"The Atlanta exposition ought to be
a big success. We are going to take an
active part in it, and if the managers
want tiny extra money' they' can get ail
they want in the eastern cities.”
Women Bel. Th' re.
New York, April is.—(Special Corre
spondence.)—lt is possible that New York
will be the next state to extend the right
of suffrage to women. The constitutional
convention will meet in Albany on tiie Sth
of -May and the women are getting up
strong petitions in favor id’ female ..hr.A’c.
One of their strong points is the fact that
Hie women of New York own about, a bil
lion dollars’ worth of property, ant!, with
this large interest at stake, they should
have some voice in the government of the
state.
I ndoubtedly the movement is gaining
strength. In the United States twenty
eight states and territories have gi/en wo
pui-ii S'-iue form of suffrag".
School suffrage in various degrees is
granted to women in Arizona, Colorado,
Connecticut, Delaware, Idaho, Indiana,
Ka.isas, Kentucky, .Massachusetts, Mieh
i , n. New Jersey. New York. North 1 >a
kot.i, Oregon, South Dakota, Texas, Ver
mont and Wisconsin.
Ju Arkansas and Missouri women vote
by petition on liquor license :n many
lit Delaware suffrage is exercised ty wo
men in several municipalities.
In Kansas they have equal suffrage with
nu n at all municipal elections.
About 50,0i> > women voted in 1830. In Mon
tana tin y vote on local taxation.
In New York they can, and do, vote
at school elections. The question of the
constitutionality' of the law is still un
decided. Tiicv vote also in many pieces m
this state on* local tmprovem j nts, sveh as
gas and electric stret lighting, paving,
•wwirage and municipal bonds.
In Utah woman voted until disfranchised
by the Edmunds law, when they organized
to demand its repeal.
In Montana, woman suTraga on local
taxation is guaranteed by the state con
stitution. . , . (C0
in I’eiiiisvlvania a ta v was pn ; 19,
under which women vote on local improve
ments, by signing or refusing to sign pe
titions therefor.
In Wyoming women I iv. voted *m ine
same terms v. itli men siiic? IM”) Tae con
vention in 18S9 to form a state constitu
tion unanimously insert" 1 a prov '-n se
curing them full suffra.?". Tins const u -
lion was ratified by the votirs at a special
election by about thro **t o irths ii.ij.jr ty .
Congress refused lo re j lire tne dlsfran-
PRICE FIVE CENTS
chisement of the women and admitted the
state July 10, JSIIO.
And let it not be forg .'t m that In H e
senate of the Unit-"! Stales February 7,
IdO. a select committee reported in favor
; of am idi -X the fee rd ci ,stb. ution :■, .- »
to forbid slat's to m:i!.e s a taust jf ais
franchisemi nt. Congi <,.; *. adj , irned, h >w«
ever, on March ttJi following without reach*
ing the subject.
Coxey’s Army.
The war cor. ■■spo’.Kt. nt. f The Washing
ton Sta r, whi is jou: .neyit,*.' from Cumber
land with the army, teh graphed today
1 an inti rv iew with Coxey, in thi < >urse at
which the commander of the comtiionweal-
“Th" number of men we will have al
Washing ton is a mere mattei njecture,
bu. every iiiiv' ndoy*.* I labm it.g man In
tiiis country ought to bi there on the Ist
)t May. We will combim our forces out
, side of Washington and propose to carry out
th" plan as ain idy outlia. d.
"There should lie .’ttibv.O'K) or 500,000 people
‘ around tie- capitol on .tl '.*.* Ist t demand
the i sue of non-interest bonus. After the
meeting we propose to camp, probably on
Sena-tor Stewart ..
and w n't until congn-ss acts.”
In answer to quest .i»i rf as to possible con-*
tiiigei ", . U ■ ■ ■ said:
"H cun.:-’, t : t'oul ad journ without act
i ing on the bills tin in w< iub.l bi one, ami
only "lie, I dug t di : ''ieveland wouli. have
to cal! an <■:■:. i a session.
“Not allow us ti noid a meeting on tho
capital ."laps? Wall, w will i': ■ the con
siitut uiiri lit y of sii-'h an lotion.”
“Suppose congt should ab lute re
fuse to pass the I
, “In that case, with the demand that will
. "ome from the people, it will . iiiijdy -how
that w are not living und- r a. n presenta
tive gov-rnment.
“Arrest me for bringing vagrants into
th- cit ? v. ell, there i ■ limit to tin
durance of the people an ome snark
start a lire that will !■ ' item any
prairie conlliigi'.itiou ev..r i ivn. The meh
going io Washiii"ton at*.- i. v'.grants, but
; honest laboring men.”
J.ost in the Miietsl roni.
We hear of nriny of the successes that
come to New York and dive into the maeb
strom of speculation, but. we Lear of but
few of the very many Ailur-s.
One of tin- most jironounced has just conn
. to tne surface, although his IT -nds l.avo
■ i known so. some tim. that he was shaky.
i Frederick Wolff, of Montguinvi y. la., canm
here several years ago, thinking, no doubt,
he would make a u- i . tn a neial
I world, as the J.-ahman brothers did. Go
I was a smart Hebrew, well up in nuance,
| quick ami nervy, as almost ail the Jiwisn
1 linanci. rs arc, and without political convie
i lions. lit. cut a wide swath ni ileal!-ig m
I soull'.irn seeuri: ies. He b'liicht a line n>. i-i
; on Fifty-seventh street, agreed to pay stuO,-
i 000 for it; paid Si’O.UOO on th" puii iiase June
a : then paid interest on the ba lance. He
i lived high, and was a high bind, r on ti n
str< i rdav he was arrested as a
. i cheat and swindler, and is now in l.ud'n-.v
street jail in default of a bond for I,' I ''" Hs
j was a member of the e.?tton exehimgc, bor-
I rowed money from a friend and agreed to
; t ran: fer his member hip cot
change, but faile I to make the t-iausfer.
. | On investigation the ’’act appc-in I that h's
I had transferred his certilicat. of mi mber
ship List fall. He is utti rly broke up. and
’ his credit ruined, and lias bei'a. so 1 ani
informed, for six months or more.
'ESS OF WALES.
The L’nfoi'tuiiiile lady Snid to Bt
' : 1 a ur.
New xors. Apt I. I ! •*- Ms” .*.*..■ Ea
pl' .. Loa ... < i..,c .a'>:
■•*,' e ' *!a i boms ot tiie princess of
Wales and in i t spring
is shrouded in mystery; in luet, ti»«
secrecy und evident celerity and dispatch
with which the princess 1< ft Englan . tn ■
,|a al:’.- nsc M -'. ... w : • :i, all 11
she attended, has given rise to much gos
sip as to us possibh or probable ca .
■ J heard from absolutely '..nimjica- i.ibla
auth irity that she has become unite In
curably and harmlessly insane, and liai.l
she imagines she is traveling about in
search of Hie body of her dead son.
“She his i’t* "t iill'. becuiiH coni
pleteJy (L-as, although sht; oa-, of course,
always been troubled wilii iiaperfeet heal
ing. She sits for hours witnoui speaking
to any one, and her attention cannot b?
attracted by any manner whatever, by
either her daughters oi her attendants. It
is thought likely that sin* will ii‘*\ er appeal
in public in London again, and many an
the conjectures as to tin duchess ot 1 or., s
fitness for taking In r jilai'e as the leader
of fashion and ’society.
lIEXRY S. IVES DEAD.
The Great Financier Dies of Coniinmp
tion at Asheville.
Asheville, N. C-, April 17. -Henry S. Ives,
of New York, Hie "Napoleon of finance,"
died here at 7.3 U o’clock tonight. Mr. Ives
reached Asheville about two months ago
from Florida in an almost dying condition
and has hardly left his b* d since. He
leased a Sjdendid res.deuce in the suburbs
and lived quietly With hi- w.u- aud.a lew
scrvcints. ciLUatj vi iiis Uv-itii v/us con
sumption.
Another Yew
New York, April Hi -A sp. ..'1 cable to
The Herald from Wal crvilli*. Ir land, says;
"The shore end of the thud aide of tne
Ci mmiTeial Cable Company was success
fully landed by lim steamer Faraday at
half past - o’clock yest-o.i:".
Ot'Eli AX »r.D LETTER.
Tnere hangs about thee, cou'd the soul's
sense tell,
An odor as of love and ot love's doom.
—Swinburne.
L lift. it. from the place where it has hidden
Out of the light th '■?•>' many years,
I read her letter o’er and tears unbidden
Sj>ring to Hie eyes that lor.g have known
Old thoughts come to me, half forgotten
fancies.
Things that I dreamed long since had
found an end,
As, reading o’er tiie best of life’s romances,
I linn "Your little sweetheart” at the end.
Outside the window there a bird is singing
His first sweet song unto the morning
Inside, deep in a man’s heart thoughts ars
springing
That have not risen since his youth went
by.
The bird’s wild song Is from Its throat out
pealing
As though the song its very throat would
rend.
No song can tell the memories o’er m<
stealing
On reading tlfose few words just at tb<
end.
“Your little sweetheart,” all the old sweet
With its deep pathos, to my being cries;
There comes a face, with hair, an amber
glory
Tangled across tho gleam of sunny eyes;
Through Time’s dim halls a voice rings low
and tender,
In whose soft tones so many memorie.
blend;
They bring back youth’s fair morn wtth
all its splendor,
These words, “Your little sweetheart” at
the end.
Through the open door I turn my face ta
seaward,
Where the wild waters wall and wan
winds blow.
The singing bird Is flying far to leeward,
Just sis my hopes fled from me long ago.
Thus has it been, thus will it be forever;
The chain is broken which no hand can
iner.d.
The band will rest in mine no more forever
That wrote “Your little sweetheart” at
the end.
I lay' aside the yellow, tear-stained letter,
\lv little sweetheart, my last link to thee!
Whether it all wre forth. wor.e or better.
May God be with you wheresoe’er you be;
Ami howsoever mu.-h my steps may falter,
.'lay y our path lead t0.,.w her.- radiant
roses bend;
For you will be what death alone can alter.
My little sweetheart to the bitter and,
JAMES LINDSAY &OHDOM.