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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 newspaper—on* that will keep you posted on affairs at home and abroad? You will answer the question affirma tively by sending us your name and ■ übscription for this paper for a yea/ 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.