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SUNDAY MORNING.
OLD Tm-FAYOggS
THE WAViNC OF THE CORN.
EY iIDKEY LAMER.
Ploughman, whose v hand yet kindly wheeled
Thy plough to ring this solitary tree
With clover, whose round plat, reserved a*field,
In cool green radius twice my length may be—
Scanting the corn thy furrows else might yield,
To pleasure August, bees, fair thoughts, and me,
That come here oft together—daily 1,
Stretched prone in summer’s mortal ecstasy,
Do stir with thanks to thee, as stirs this mom
With waving of the corn.
Unseen, the farmer’s boy from round the* hill
Whistles a snatch that seeks his soul unsought,
And fills some time with tune, howbeit shrill;
The cricket tells straight on his simple thought—
Nay, 'tin the cricket’s way of being still;
The peddler bee drones in, and gossips naught;
Par down the wood, a one desiring dove
Times me the heating of the heart of love;
And these be all the sounds that mix, each inorn,
With waving of the corn.
From here to where the louder passions dwell,
Green leagues of hilly separation roll;
Trade ends where your far clover ridges swell.
Ye terrible towns, ne’er claim the trembling soul
That, craftless all to buy or hoard or sell,
From out your deadly complex quarrel stole
To company with large amiable trees,
Suck honey sumner with unjealous bees.
And take time’s strokes as softly as this morn
Takes waving of the corn.
The Little Fiddler.
By Nora Hopper.
, -T—T-ATE’S n fiddler.”
L/ The little fiddler—such a
little fiddler—flung a quick
unchildllke glance around
the packed concert room, drew a long,
unchildllke sigh, and began to play.
First, a guy ripple of music—light and
heedless and youthful—then a phrase
or so, subdued and soft and piteous
as the "moan of doves In Immemorial
elms,” followed by the liquid lament of
a nightingale. A scurry of soft notes
like summer rain dropped from the
strings into silence, and the end came
with a repetition of the child's laugh.
“Gypsy, every note of it,” an emi
nent scientist said to Ills daughter, as
she leaned back in her stall with tears
In her soft brown eyes. “Gypsy music,
my dear Madge, and played, one would
swear, by a gypsy, but for his face.
And his name, too. Is pure Saxon—An
glo-Saxon at that.”
“It is, papa?” his daughter Madge
said, with a swift glance at the little
fiddlev, now rendering a wild bazarre
movement, half dance, half march.
“It’s an odd name, too; Godfrltb Ak.
I don’t think I like it, and I don’t think
I like Ills face, either; it's so sallow and
plain.”
“Look at his eyes, my dear.”
“So I have, and 1 don’t want to do
It again, papa; they give me the
creeps,” Madge whispered back. “But
he’s a wonderful player.”
“Aye, he is that; 1 wonder where he
comes from? I am Interested in his
name; pure Anglo-Saxon, Madge; ihink
of It.”
"Perhaps lie’s a ghost or something
of that sort,” commented Madge, flip
pantly. “Anglicize his name a little,
please, papa; it’s too Saxon for me.”
“Godfrey Oak; that Is the modern
English of It, m,v dear; and there is no
verb ’Anglo,’ said the professor, dtyl.v,
as the violin piece ended, and a little
rustle went through the crowded
room. “Yes, that Is the hist. Come,
Madge, my dear—Why, Hoffmann, 1
never expected to see you here. And
how Is your wife, my dear fellow?”
They were out In the vestibule now,
and Madge Dormer, paler than bet
wont, offered her hand with a smile
to the spectacled young German her
father had taken by the arm.
"How is Mrs. Hoffmann? Better, I
hope. And your boy?”
“Clara is as well as she ever will bo.
Miss Dormer,” Ernest Hoffmann said,
aot too cordially. “She will never walk
again, the doctor says, but she Is
stronger and patient—she is always
that, you know.”
“1 do know,” Madge said, with a
catch in her breath. "I knew Clara
before you did. Sir. Hoffmann, and 1
can bear witness to her sweetness.”
“You did. 1 beg your pardon. Miss
Dormer.” Ernest Hoffmann flushed
a little.
The professor, mildly uneasy, put in
a half apologetic remark, after the
blundering masculine fashiou. "Madge
Is very fond of your wife, Hoffmann;
always was, through all.”
"I appreciate Miss Dormer's devo
tion," Ernest Hoffmann said, with a
stiff bow. Madge held her head erect
and looked at him with an angry light
In her eyes.
“I appreciate Mr. Hoffmann’s mag
nanimity,” she said, icily. “Papa, we
shall be late if we don’t hurry. Good
by, Mr. Hoffmann; nty kind love to
Clara. O, by tlie bye, how is Ulric?”
“Ulric Is ill,” Ernest Hoffmann said,
shortly. “Mr. Dormer, a moment. Can
you tell me where Godfrith Ak is stay
ing?”
"Senor Ludovico is at the Alexandra
Hotel and Ak Is with him, of course,”
the professor said, as he turned away,
hurried by the danger signals flying in
bis daughter's face.
“How she hates me!" Ernest Hoff
mann sighed, as lie went through the
park in the March wind and sunshine.
“I suppose she thinks a clerk had no
right to marry her cousin. Ah! Clara
does not think so—yet. How that lad
played—no wonder Clric dreams of
hint. And I wonder if he will come ”
The wonder remained when he sat in
the luxurious sitting room at the Alex
andra, facing the Itupressario, a big,
handsome Italian, with an enormous
beard.
“Yes, his playing is a marvel.” Signor
Ludovico said, placidly scanning Hoff
mann’s shabby figure; “but I have
brought forth several marvels in my
time. That reminds me,” with a glance
at the clock, "my time is limited at
present—you will pardon me, Mr. Hoff
mann, 1 am sure.”
“My business is—l came to ask a
favor. Signor Ludovico,” Ernest Hoff
mann said, desperately. “My little son
is very ill; lie has not slept for four
nights, aud all his cry is for Godfrith
Ak.”
"Indeed!”
“Dr. Herz says If Ulric could hoar
him play it might cure him.”
“I fall to see how it can be managed,”
the itupressario said, with a smile. “Do
you, Mi. Hoffmann?”
“Let Godfrith Ak come and play to
my boy,” Ernest Hoffmann pleaded.
“That is the only way.”
“An impossible way,” the impressario
said, harshly. “Quite impossible, r
will not have my market cheapened.
Godfrith Ak’s playing has its market
value.”
“But, my boy ”
“What do 1 care for your boy? Here
have I bred up Godfrltb and brought
him out, and I will not have him go
playing to every ailing child. I tell
you 1 will not have It. Besides, God
frith Is ill himself. Sir. Hoffmann (he
slid smoothly into a different tone); it
Is impossible.”
“He must come," Ernest said, dully.
“Ulric has asked for him all day.”
"He is ill,” tlie impressario said,
fiercely; “do you hear? He shall uot
go.
“My boy is dying. I tell you,” Er
nest said as fiercely, “and lie must
come. I will pay you anything ”
“He shall not ”
“I will come.” Ernest Hoffmann
faced round with a smothered cry; the
boy’s entrance bad been so noiseless
and so unexpected. The impressario
muttered an oath as he turned also
and met the little fiddler’s grave, dark
eyes.
“You are ill, Godfrith,” ho said, con
trolling his anger with an effort. “Mr.
Hoffmann will uot persist when he
sees that.”
The boy did look ill; even Ernest
Hoffmann’s shortsighted e.ves could see
how hollow (lie thin cheeks were and
how darkly the shadows lay under the
gray eyes.
Godfrith Ak laughed slightly and
shrugged his shoulders. “I am well
enough to play. I am always well
enough for that, impresario. Is your
son very ill, Mr. Hoffmann?’’
“Very ill,” said Ernest, sadly. "Will
you come, then?”
“I will come,” Godfrith said, quietly.
Signor Ludovico caught his arm an
grily.
“i forbid it, Godfrith, do you hear? I
forbid It. Mr. Hoffmann, you persist
In this at your own risk.”
"I choose to play," Godfrith Ak said,
looking at him with perfect coolness.
“Maestro mio, you can do a good many
things, but you cannot either make me
play or stop me from playing when I
choose."
The ImAesarlo’s face was purple
with anger as lie answered: “You can
not go. and you shall not, Godfrith.
You are ill, aud you play in the Albert
Hall to-night.”
"I will go to play for your son,” God
frith said quietly, “or else I will not
play in the hall at all.”
“But you shall play.” stormed the
Impresario, "or I will make you suffer
for it, Godfrith Ak. X will not be
cheated! 1 ”
“You cannot make mo play, Signor
Ludovico!” Godfrith said, still quietly,
but with a flush on his sallow cheek.
"I will do as 1 please now. Up to this
X have done as you pleased, maestro
mio.”
"Yon are an ungrateful little viper!”
the impresario said, hoarsely, “and I
will pay you for it, never fear. Godfrith
Ak! And as for you, sir ”
"Take care how you bully Mr. Hoff
mann, maestro.” Godfrith Ak said,
composedly. "There are policemen
outside."
“If there were not—-’
“If there were not you would tie me
into a chair and starve me into submis
sion, as you did when we were in St.
Petersburg. Maestro, if you speak so
louil you will be too hoarse to sing ‘Y
avait uu rci de Tbessalie’ to-night.”
THE BRUNSWICK DAILY NEWS.
The Impresario choked and moder
ated his tone a little.
“You have the whip hand of me now,
Godfrith, but wait—but wait till I have
you under my band again. Corpo di
eame! I will make you pay for this!”
“Of course you will, maestro,” God
frith said, coolly, “and you may, but
to-day I will be master of my own
bands. So 1 will come, Mr. Hoffmann,
if you will wait two seconds.”
He left the room and returned in
stantly with a plaid thrown over his
narrow, stooping shoulders and his vio
lin ease under his arm.
“Come,” he went on, with an impish
f laugh and a glance at the impresario,
scowling in his easy chair; “the maes
(ro will recover when we are gone.
Do you live here, Mr. Hoffmann?” as
they emerged into the sunlit street.
“Quite close,” Ernest Hoffmann said,
curtly, as they left the high road and
turned dawn narrow Savage street
Godfrith Ak gave a glance at the
dreary, demure houses right and left,
and laughed quietly to himself.
“Eden in tatters for somebody, I sup
pose. Do you live here. Mr. Hoff
mann?” as Ernest pushed open the
door of No. 330. “Have you any other
children?”
“No.” Ernest Hoffmann said, as he
preceded the little fiddler up the creak
ing stairs; “only this one—and liis
mother is a cripple. This way. Clara,
he is here.” Dark blue eyes met the
dark gray, in a long, Inquiring glance;
then a thin hand, soft and while and
cold, went out to clasp the little fid
dler’s thin, hot fingers and a soft voice
said:
“Oh, It is good of 3'ou to come—sc
good! Ernest told you how ill our boy
was and bow he longed to hear you
play? And your playing is a marvel.
Xlow do you? Why ” Bhe with
drew her hand with a little cr.v,
“You are not a child at all, and I
thought ”
“No, lam not a child,” the little fid
dler said, looking at her puzzled face
with clear, candid eyes. “I am seven
teen. Yes (with a shrug) I am a child
in size, I know—l stopped growing
when I was nine.”
“Are you u gypsy? Forgive me,”
Clara said, with a pretty blush, “but it
has been said so—and I wondered if it
was true.”
“I am of gypsy blood on one side,
madame,” Godfrith Ak answered—“the
mother’s.”
“I am afraid,” Clara said, as he
opened the violin case and took the in
strument out, handling it lovingly,
“you ought not to have come out in
this east wind. You have been ill,
surely?”
“No,” Godfrith said, quietly. “I am
never strong, madame. But I am never
111, either. Shall I begin to play now,
madame? Where is your boy?”
“In the next room through that
open door, if you will be so kind. Er
nest.” as her husband made as If he
would follow the little fiddler to Ills
boy’s bedside, “let them be alone to
gether, dear. Our guest will like it bet
ter, I know. Madge would say I am
absurdly fanciful, dear,” as lie came
to her side with a surprised face. “But
I feel as if you had brought here a
good fairy who will cure our Ulric,
and—what is that lie is playing?”
“A cradle song, madame,” Godfrith
answered for himself, through the open
doorway. “It is a Norwegian lullaby.”
The lullaby crooned softly away intc
silence, and then Clara from her couch
saw the little tiddler bend swiftly over
the bed and kiss her hoy’s flushed, de
lighted face with a murmured “So, this
is better than the Albert Hall.”
Then lie took up his bow again and
drew it over tlie strings in a swift,
dainty dance measure, all light, airy
passages, through which Clara could
almost hear the movement of dancing
feet. She listened for a few minutes
with a half smile on her lips; then her
eyes, puzzled and half afraid, went
wistfully to meet the little fiddler's,
and came back to her husband’s face
with an unsatisfied fear in their blue
depths. “Ernest, do 1 know that song?
It seems so—and l wish almost—l wish
he would not play it ”
“Madame, lam half way through it.
I must go on to the bitter end now.”
the little fiddler called to lier. with a
tremble of laughter in bis voice. “I
shall soon have done.”
“I don't like it,” Clara murmured,
distressfully. T seem to know it,
and ’’
She lay listening In silence for some
minutes, then the fear in her eyes kiu
dled into a flame, and she caught at
her husband's hand with the look of
a terrified child.
“Ernest. I remember: it Is the ‘Dance
of Death,’ that the Bohemian gypsies
play. Stop him ”
“My dear Clara ” Her terror
made even unimaginative 'Ernest
Hoffmann turn pale, and he turned yet
paler when the musie stopped in the
middle of an airy dance movement.
* * * “On the 36th iusc, suddenly,
of heart disease, Godfrith Ak, violin
ist.” That was what the third para
graph of the Telegraph said, but Clara
Hoffmann, sobbing over the newspaper
cutting, cried: “I told you I knew that
dance—and the gypsies say that death
always comes to player or hearer —one
or the other. But oae of the two can
choose which it shall kill or cure, so
they say. And look, dear, I am sure
that Godfrith Ak knew the legend, and
that he chose it should be Ulric who
should be healed. I know It.” And
her husband did not say her nay.—
Black and White.
(The Dcfpent Lake.
I-ake Baikal, in Siberia, seems to be
the deepest lake in the world. It is
4300 feet deep, its surface being 1330
feet above sea-level, and the bottom
some 3000 feet below.
The trouble with a young man who
has a brilliant future before him is
that he so seldom catches up with it.
New York City. Dark blue aud
white polka dot dirnity is used tor tills
j comfortable bouse sneque with ecru
lace for trimming. It is shaped to tlie
MlsStS* DRESSING SAOQt'E.
figure with umlei-ami goies and fitted
hacks, a smooth adjustment being
maintained under the arms and over
the hips. The neck is cut slightly low
ami square, finished with band of lace,
flic full fronts are gathered at the up
per edge and arranged on the lace, fall
ing in long, loose folds over the bust.
In some Barques ribbon is run through
a casing or beading at the neck and
iv*x
mw
FANCY WAIST AND FIVE-GORED SKIRT.
tied in a bow, the fulness being adjust
ed in tills manner.
The lower edge of the s aequo is
turned up in a deep hem. The sleeves
are shaped with inside seams only, and
have comfortable fulness on the shoul
ders. They are gathered a short dis
tance from the lower edge and drawn
close to the arm with a baud of lace.
The sleeve below this forms a ruffle
that flares prettily over the, arm.
Sacques in this style may be made of
tbiti wash fabrics, lawn, swiss or mer
cerized cotton, with lace and ribbon
for trimming. It is also appropriate
for albatross. French flannel, ohallie or
wash silk. To make tlie saeque for a
miss of fourteen years will require two
aud a half yards of twonty-seven-inch
material.
A Slyllh Toilet.
White voile is used for the stylish toi
'iet shown in the large drawing, with
saffron lace and black velvet ribbon for
.riniming. White is the color par ex
ellenee for dress occasions tills season,
md many lovely silk and wool fabrics
ire developed in this cool, airy color.
The waist is made over a glove
fitted featherboned lining that closes in
the centre front. The back is plain
across the shoulders and drawn close
to the belt, where the fulness is ar
ranged in tiny pleats. A smooth ad
justment is maintained under the arms.
The front plastron is included in the
' right shoulder and neck, sejtis fasten
ing invisibly on the left. The full fronts
r.re tucked from the yoke to belt, and
open to J display the plastron to the
waist line. Narrow revers of lace
finish the upper part of the full fronts.
A transparent lace collar completes
j the neck. The sleeve is tucked from
! shoulder to elbow and forms a puff be
j low the tucks that are gathered and
arranged on a deep-pointed lace cuff.
| The skirt is shaped with five well
; proportioned gores, fitted smoothly
: irom-M the waist without darts. The
i fulness in the centre back is arranged
’in two underlying pleats that are
pressed flatly. The skirt closes invisi
; bly under these pleats.
| One or two flounces may be used as
j preferred. The illustration shows two
i circular flounces that are trimmed with
j narrow velvet ribbon and flare widely
1 around the bottom. A band of lace
feDishes the unoer edge of the flounce.
To make tlie waist in the medium
size will require one and a half yatds
of forty-four-ineh material with one
yard of all-over lace.
To make the skirt in the medium size
will require five and one-half yards of
forty-four-inch material.
The Embroiderer’* Art.
Although plain materials are to lie la
mode for autumn, it is not for ati in
stout to be supposed that it means
plain costumes. The embroiderer's art
will transform many of the plainest
fabrics to dreams of beauty, while
fancy effects will be produced on the
soft stuffs by lace or chiffon or by the
deft treatment of artistic trimmings
applique, etc. ,
Tlie Vogue of Moire.
The vogue of moire, revived last
spring, will continue throughout tlie
autumn and winter. Moire Velour
will also route in ter a share of this
IKipularity.
Ho|>:ick Weave*.
Ilopsai 1; weaves in solid colors are
to lie mueli worn by ultra-stylish
women for knockabout street gowns.
When t-onir tout. Art! Too VVmra.
At tin's season of the year, when long
coat* are too warm for general wear,
short reefers are considered quite com
fortable garments for little folk when
the mornings and evenings are cool
enough to require some slight protec
tion.
No lining is required, the seams
being prettily bound with narrow rib
bons in self-colors.
This reefer is simply adjusted with
shoulder mid under arm seams, fitted
smoothly on the shoulders and flaring
in box effect at tlie lower edge.
It closes in front with large pearl
buttons and buttonholes worked
through the scallops on tlie edges. A
broad cape collar extends over the
shoulders in a becoming manner and
tlie turnover collar is scalloped to cor
respond,
Tlie lower edge of tlie jacket is scal
loped, also the flaring cuffs that com
plete the sle ves. These are shaped
with upper and under portious and
have slight fulness on the shoulders.
Fancy leather stitching in a contrast
child’s REr.FKR.
ing color provides au attractive finish
to the edges.
To make the reefer for a child two
years old will require one aud a
yards of tweuty-seven-inch material.
SEPTEMBER 21
THE SUPREME COURT BENCH.
The Resignation of Judge Hal. Lewis
From That Position Necessitates
an Election.
The vacancy caused on the Supreme
Court Bench by the resignation of
Judge Hal. Lewis has precipitated
an election which is of paramount in- *
terest to the people of Georgia.
Among those whose names are
prominently mentioned is that of
Judge John S. Candler, whos- rela
tionship to the present governor of
'.he state makes his candidacy and
previous record a matter of news inter
est to the people of the state. We g!v,
beiow a summarized history of his
political career, believing that our
readers will be anxious to know all
that is possible in regard to the iar.
didates who aspire to the Supreme
bench. ,
Judge Candler was born in Carroll
county, Ga.. in 1561.. He is a brother
of Bishop Warren A. Candler, Asa G.
Car.dler. of Atlanta, aud Ex-Congn y- _
man Milton A. Candler, of the Fifth
Congressional District. He is ah
first cousin of the present chief exi
utive of this afcete. In ISS7 Juiigi
Candler was appointed Soliedtor Gen
eral cf the Stcne Mountain Circuit y
Gcr.eral John B. Gordon, and at tie
next session of the Georgia Leg:.-,,
ture was elected to fill the same i,t
fice without opposition. In February,
JJ9S, on the death of Judge Richard
H. Clark. Judge Candler was appoint
ed by Governor W. Y. Atkinson to fir;
his unexpired term as judge of lie
Stcne Mountain circuit. In October
of the- same year, Judge- Candler was
elected, without opposition, to the.
same office by the Georgia Legisla
ture. In 1900, Judge Candler was ri
elected by the popular vote of the peo
ple carrying every county in his cir
cuit witji the exception of one. that
being the one in which his opponent,
one of the most popular lawyers in
Georgia, resided. His home conn;;..
DeKalb, gave him a larger vote than
was received by th,. governor anil
state house ticket which had no oppo
sition.
While attending to, his own courts.
Judge- Candler has found time t:i a.-
sist many of the other judge's in the
state.
As judge cf the Superior Courts ef
the Stone. Mountain Circuit, he pre
sides over the criminal branch cf t:.*-
Superior Court of Fulton county. When
he went upon the bench it required
twenty-eight weeks to dispose of the
criminal business of this county.
Under his administration last y; .ir.
court only sat in Fulton county
for eight weeks, thus reducing the
expenses of this court from IlS.i'it'i
to less than $3,000 per year. While
the records of the courts show that,
there was £5 per cent, less crime In
1601 than there was in IS9S .
When he went on the bench there
were city and county courts in most
of the counties cf the Stone Mountain
Circuit. All of th-tse courts, with
the exception of one have been
abolished, and at the same time
the Superior Court sessions in each
county in this circuit have been r<-
(hired from one half to two-thirds of
the time that was. formerly require,
to dispatch the business of these
courts. No old rases are on any of
the dockets in this circuit. *
Judge Candler has been Judge Advo
cate General of the Georgia State
Troops and Colonel of the Fifth R> gi
roer.t and was Colonel of the Third
Georgia Volunteer Infantry in the
Spanish-Amerlcan war.
O* you want an up-to-date, JTvs
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You will answer the question affirma
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r at iaaat six months.
WOMAN CUT DOWN BODY.
Boisy Bryant Executed for the Mur
der of fO-ohal Hynds.
Boisy Bryant was hanged at Nash
ville. Ga.. Friday at noon for the mur
fier of Town Marshal Hynds.
Mrs. Etta Hynds Parker, daughter
f the murderea officer, watched the
proceedings cf the execution from
the scaffold trap.
As soon as Bryant was pronounced
dead. Mrs. Parker, with her fathers
knife, cut the body of the murderer
down.
Mrs. Parker retained the first piece
o? rope for herself. Five hundred per
sons were allowed to witness the ex
ecution and the negro's body was
turned over to Iriends as none of his
relatives were present.
Bryant was interviewed shortly be
fore The execution, saying that he had
been saved and was ready to go and
did not dread death.
He said he had killed Hynds after
he had covered him with cocked
pistol. '
The crime was committed in Attei.
a nearby last May. The negro
was wanted on a misdemeanor charge
and Town Marshal Hynds attempted
to arrest him. As the marshal ap
proached Bryant, the segro drew a pis
tol and fired upon’the officer, mortal
ly wounding him. Bryant escaped,
but was captured • few days iaier,
and placed in jail at Nashville.
Owing to threats of lynching a gpe
| cial term of court was called and Bry
ant was convicted and sentenced to
j be hanged on. September 12th.