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be o N. fj /a * ’friSBifr h 7 ,..-
VOL. VI.
Oh, the drum!
There is soma
’ Intonation la thy that gram
Monotony of utterance strikes the
spirit dumb,
As we hear
Through thoulear
And unclouded atmosphere
Thy crumbling palpitation roll in upon the
car.
’There’s a part
Of tiie art
Of thy a" musie-tlirobbiug heart
That thrills soriiething ' in us that awakens
with a start,
Attfete dirne
AndVxactitude of time,
Goes marching on to glory to thy melody
.sublime.
-And the guest
Of the breast ..
That thy rolling robs of rest
Is a patriotic* spirit as a Continental
dressed,
And he looms
From the glooms
Of a century of tombs.
And the blood he spilled at Lexington in
living beauty blooms.
FOR BLOOD WILL TELL.
By W. SS. HARWOOD.
, ISS WARING sat
I silent, noting the
I II rapidly growing
dusk on the wide
m l Al V M prairie. The stars
»l were just begin
J uing to show like
tJi ■ j I glittering d i a -
mond-points. Just
y i/ the suggestion of
the autumn was in
the cool night air.
The stillness as
Jim and she drove along over the si
lent plain was broken now and then by
a sharp, starling rattle, a sound once ;
heard never to be forgotten, the danger- |
2 signal of the deadly rattlesnake coiled j
up in the long, brown grass.
“Hit appears to me,” Jim was say
ing, “that that air wind don’t, bode
any good to the settlers ’round
about these here parts.” j
'f"JlHi ? ’
“Guess you haiu’t ever ben on one
of our Dakoty peraries afore, Miss
Waring, pr you wouldn’t have asked
such a question. There’s two things
out hyar that’s more- feared than the
Old Nick himself—one on ’em’a a
perarie fire and another’s aperarie fire
with the wind a-blowin’ a forty-mile
an-hour gale.”
They rode on again in silence,
Agnes Waring had come from the far
great city to visit her brother on his
Western ranch. Jim, the man-of-all
work, was driving her out from the
■ station, fifteen miles from the ranch,
. “By the long-horned spoons!” said
Jim suddenly, rising in his seat and
stopping the horses with a treniendous
jerk: “look over there, will you?
Thar’s bizness for us, sure’s you’re a
foot bigli! Git up there!” he yelled
to the horses and, giving one them a
stinging blow with his whip, they
•sprang into a run. Across the level
plain shone a light, the light at the
ranch headquarters nearly a mile away,
To the left of it a dull, reddish glow
had come up and, now and then, at the
horizon line, where tbe darker part of
the sky was lost in the prairie, sharp
flames were darting up.
“Don’t you be skeered,” Jim ejacu
lated, as fie whipped the horses into a
^danger—leastwise wyet more furious pace; “thereain’t any
for us.”
Alice was a self-possessed city girl
with a generous stock of old-fashioned
common sense; but she was startled at
Jim’s actions and her face had grown
pale. all §aid
“Everything’s right,” Jim,
as reassuringly as he could under tbe
■-circumstances; “don’t you be
skeered.” He bad seized the reins
between his firm, strong teeth and
now with one hand, now with the
-other, now with both, he was whip¬
ping the horses into still greater
■speed. “Hate—-ter—lick a team—
like this”—as the wagon bounced and
tumbled and rattled along; “bate ter
Ldo hit—but hit—can’t be helped—
■fen there’s life—depends—ou it.”
few moments more and the horses
Hshed rip to the big ranch keadquar
■Fl-s house. Jim threw the lines to
Hie ground, and, seizing Alice by the
JHiist, jumped out with her.
“Sorry to he so unperlite, but
there ain’t any time to wait—kin you
ride liossba(&?”
Barely waiting for an affirmative
answer from the girl, who was pas
sionately fond of riding aud who
modestly owned the gold medal for
superior horsewomanship in her city
riding club, Jim ran to tbe barn, flung
& man’s saddle on a beautiful horse
.and before Alice had' time to recover
s jtfjduction .jfrom her surprise at this novel intro
to her brother’s establishment,
the horse wa3 before lier.
“You say yon kin ride; wa’al, here’s
the best chance to show hit you ever
had in your life. Thar’s the best
hoss in McLeod County—racin’ blood
for five gineratioas; there ain’t nothin’
but a perarie fire kin ketch him.
Jump him, Miss Waring, ride straight
toward the fire yonder; thar ain’t no
danger now till you git ter Mule
•Crick, Jest over the crick a quarter
THE DRUM,
And his eyes
Wear the guise
Of a nature pure and wise,
And the, love of them is lifted to a some
thing in the skie3
That is bright white.
Red and
With a blur of starry light
As it laughs in silken ripples to the breezes i
‘ day and night.
Then with sound,
As profound the thunderings >
As resouad,
Come thy wild reverberations in a throe
that shakes the ground,
An<1 “ cr > 7
''“wketh^Hag ... .
it flutters by,
Wings rapturously upward till it nestles t in .
the sky.
Oh the drum!
There is some
Intonation in thy gram strikes the
Monotony of utterance that
spirit dumb,
As we hear
Through the clear
And unclouded atmosphere
Tby rumbling palpitations roll in upon the
ear.
—James 'Whitcomb Riley.
of a mile or sothar’s a Russian woman
an’ her six weeks’ old baby, She’s
all alone, fer I saw lier husband in
town wbeii we left. They liain’t back¬
fired an inch, and you’ve got to git the
woman and lier baby over tbe crick.
See? I’d go myself, but tlie wind is
shifted and this ' hull ranch’ll be in
danger afore long. You’ll pass your
brother and a parcel o’ men backfirin’
along the line: don’t stop fer any ex
planations, but ride fer the crick an’ :
ride as if tlie Old Harry was on yer
track! You been’t afeered, be you?”
The, blood bad come back to the pale
cheeks. ‘/You j
say there’s little danger of my J
losing my life, Jim?” j
“Not a bit—ef you only git the I
woman across the crick; in time; but |
don’t wait—jump quick, fer the Lord’s j
sake, or you’ll be too late. ” :
With a I'iule toss be threw her,info
IhAsaddle "as ifshe Kad been a child, j
and he handed thrust her short, the cruel reins, rawhide ^.s he into did j
so a
her band.
“Don’t bit him with that unless you
have to—he’s never bin licked in bis
life; but he kin outrun a cyclone. Ef
you have ter hit him, give it to him
red-hot!”
It is long, sometimes, before a horse
and its rider become acquainted with
ods another; but it seemed but a few
seconds to Alice before she and tlie
noble animal were old friends. Jim
was right, Prince Hal could run; and
after the first few tremendous jumps
and Alice had steadied herself in the
saddle, the thrilling excitement
stirred her blood like an intoxicant,
and she realized that Jim had told
the truth; it promised to be tbe race
of her life.
“Je-ho-sa-phat!” exclaimed a mail
who was plowing a fire furrow along
the edge of the ranch where the men
were at work, “Mr. Waring, look, will
you! Look at Prince Hal!”
Mr. Waring had not more than time
to look up before he saw his choicest
mount pass by him like the wind, a
girl with hair flying behind her on his
back, tbe horse going at a pace that
not. bis fastest Kentucky ancestor ever
matched.
On the horse went as if he, too,
knew of the life-saving mission of tlie
hour. The foam came back- from bis
teeth, and bis flanks were white.
Alice leaned forward in tbe saddle,
as she urged bim on, and stroked his
neck.
A moment more and they were at
the creek, a shallow stream. Beyond,
Alice could see a low house sil¬
houetted against a great red bank of
flame. Tbe fire was coming. Already
she could feel the intense heat. A
leap anda bound; they were over tbe
stream and on again with still swifter
flight. It was a matter of seconds now
until tbe low sod house was reached.
In front frantically of it was the trying Russian to peasant
woman, save some
of her household goods by dragging
themwith one band further from the
course of the fire, while in one arm
she clutched the baby, around which
she had thrown a wet shawl to protect
it from the heat.
“Why didn’t you run?” cried Alice,
as she jumped from the horse; “don’t
you see, the fire is almost on you?
You can’t save your things; run for
the creek! Run, I say! or you’ll be
burned to death.”
Alice ... grabbed , , . tne ,, child , .. -i from . the i
woman’s arms and sprang up into the !
saJdle as best she could The woman J
stood as it stupefied, the lighting red glow
rom the coming flames up ;
her stolid face. The fire was coming
on faster now; they could hear the
roar and crackle as it swept through
the long, man-high grass of the swale
beyond the fence.
“Quick! quick, I say! no, you can’t !
run fast enough now to get to the ]
creek; jump up behind me, quick! |
quick! or we shall all he burned. I
can’t leave you here to die!” j
The woman’s stolid nature was
aroused at last by the animal fear of ;
danger, and while the heat grew more ,
“To thine n»n self be true.und it will follow, as nigftit the day, thou cans't not then be false to any man. ”
LINCOLNTON, GA- THURSDAY, JIXY It. 1898
intense every instant she clambered
up behind Alice.
Prince Hal’s face was toward the
fire. He had not moved since lie
reached the spot; heseemel like some
beautiful statue, his body motionless,
his ears sharp and erect, his nostrils
distended; the awful fascination of the
fire was upon him.
Alice pulled at the bit to turn him!
He paid no attention. She spoke
sharply, but - be only moved uneasily;
. ,,
he would not stir from the spot.
Swifter than an electric shock came
the thought to her mind that horses
in burning buildings would stay and
die m the flames before they would be
led out. It would be impossible to
reach the creek on foot; in half a min¬
ute more the flames would be on them.
Grabbing the wet shawl from the baby
with one band, and swinging the chilel
backward to its mother with the other;
she threw the shawl over the horse’s
bead. With the sight of the fire shut
out he quivered, turned as the bit
gave him a sharp twist, and, just as
the flames were leaping over the sheds
hard by the house, he sprang away.
It was a race for life now—for three
lives; for tbe wind had increased to a
gale, and there is nothing more ter¬
rible in this world than such a relent¬
less ocean of flames as was rolling
over tbe grass-grown plain. ad¬
Alice thought of Jim's parting
vice:
“He’s never ben licked in his life;
but, if you Lave ter, give it to him
red-hot!”
With a sharp cry, urging the "horse
on under his heavy burden, she struck
kirn with all her strength on tbe quiv¬
ering flSiuk, not once, but many times.
He jumped as if stung by a rattle¬
snake and. seizing the bit in teeth,
shot, away as if shot from some
mighty catapult, of him
Alice had lost all control
now. She could neither guide nor
check nor urge him. The blood of a
noble ancestry, the blood or a racer,
was on fire in liis veins. Down the
short hill, over tbe brook, up the
further side,'on over the plain like
some wild spirit of the night he ran.
A cheer that you could have heard- a
mile, and that, mayhap, was heard
clear up to the stars "of heaven, rang
out as Prince Hal, white with loam,
[lev by tbe crowd of men.
gal!” said if Jim, j<-Tt ain’t he .t!m helped _v*” Alice hbw-t
as
from the saddle; “an’ you ain’t agoin’
ter faint, nuther; I kin tell it by .your
eye. Didn’t I tell you be could out
run a cyclone? But there had ter be
somebody atop o’ bim who knew how
ter ride.”—New York Independent,
Made Bruiisli by Starvation.
Silvester Carter, an importer of Chi¬
cago, was in Matanzas a few days be¬
fore the beginning of hostilities with
Spain. He was there at the time the
cargo of provisions from Kansas City
was landed for the starving peoiile.
Speaking to a Picayune representa¬
tive, he said: “I doubt if pen can ex¬
aggerate tbe appalling state of the
people in and around that town, and
not only there, but wherever I went
in the provinces really in the control
of the Spaniards. It was enough to
break ohe’s heart to contemplate the
multitude of tbe starving, and it
looked like an endless and bo|Deless
task to attempt even to supply these
starving mouths. I saw numbers of
people who were evidently well bred
and cultured, reduced to that stage of
privation that they looked like spectres.
Have you ever seen a populace of starv¬
ing people? It is an awful sight; it
almost curdles the blood. You hardly
recognize the people as fellow human
beings. A part of that something
which makes up a human being seems
lacking. They suggest more animals
than human beings—ugly animals, too
—and it would be an ugly set of peo¬
ple did they possess any physical force.
I saw a mother snatch a loaf of bread
from her child and devour it much as
I have seen thh lions at feeding time
in a menagerie pull meat through the
bars and gorge it. And tbe child
glared at her mother as if she were
contemplating what she would do if
she were able. Think of the condi¬
tion to which a mother must be re¬
duced to take a morsel from her fam¬
ished child. There is nothing but the
Drute left.”—New Orleans Picayune.
No Heady Money Needed.
In the British settlement in the
great Chinese city of Shanghai ready
money is practically unknown. After
you have had lunch at a restaurant
you calmly get up aud walk out with¬
out a thought of payment in cash.
Some time later in the day a coolie
arrives at your residence with a tiny
slip qf paper—a “chit,” as they call
it—simply a memoradum of the
amount. Y- v. get a shave at your bar
tiie same system ' is carrfed out.
Yqu ? Hae a eWBpaper L or a bou
A t ’ ^ is t r esult. The
v e / shoe hlack does not ask for cop
* * bri iu hia bm at the end
f th e moath .
An Extraordinary Holiday.
The Mayor of Foggia, in Italy, has
granted a public holiday to the vil
lagers of that interesting old town ii|
honor of Signora of the Rosa baptism Zurlo, of who the childrgHj rece
a
presented her husband with aud^tf| four jj
all born on the same day,
to**1*
NOTED BATTLE HORSES.
STEEDS THAT CARRIED FAMOUS
MEN IN MANY CONFLICTS,
■
A Branch of the Service That Suffers
More Fatalities Than Do the Men- j
General Phil Sheridan’s Black War i
Jl<>!>.- Gen, Grant’s Military Chargers,
Horses in war suffer more fatalities
men. Out of the many thousands j
:%iio have given their lives, perishing ;
»-in their duty toward their masters, ;
a few return home to spend their
lives in the ease and honor they de
serve. One warhorse, however, which
has self, made and a splendid record for him- j
now 1ms his virtues, name,
and noble deeds engraved on a fitting
tombstone, was the little chestnut the
great Cattle Duke of Wellington rode at the
of Waterloo. Copenhagen,named
after the capital of Denmark from
which country and city he came, was
a spirited thoroughbred, standing fit
teen bands high, and $2000 was the
price paid for him. Copenhagen served !
under Wellington during the Spanish
war, and for eighteen hours he carried '
his master at Waterloo. After this he
was sent to the duke’s home, Strath
tieldsaye, in England, to take his ease.
A member of the Royal Academy of i
.English painters was paid to make a
handsome portrait of Copenhagen,
which the duke loved and petted to
/the day of his death. The last years
of the faithful horse were, however, j
sadly embittered by the teasing of i
Thousands of curious persons who
came to visit him in his paddock, and
this groom would clip hairs from his
tail and mane to sell for a few shil¬
jheard lings to tbe visitors. When the duke
of this he put Copenhagen in a
sag cage, where he lived in peace,
ill is funeral was well attended, and at
jBtvathfieldsave his tombstone, ordered
fbvtlie {seen, duke excellent himself, preservation. is still to be i
I in
Nine years after tlie Emperor Nr
pel eon died at St. Helena an old white
horse perished of old age and pnen
it,. j jo.,.ain , ; ,-,uglaiul. lht ske.eton I. i . i .•
,
• ,-Imted service institution irniitution in m 6 White White- ’
3ta!l yard, London, and to all visitors
j L t Lunger is pointed Napoleon out rode as at Marengo, tbe battle the of
A ■■ cm 1 loo. .Marengo''*fame urig-.nally
from Egypt and was left to wander on
the dismal battlefield when the empe¬
ror was forced to fly for his life. An
English officer found and took him,
and he was sold to an English general,
in English pastures, cared for by rev¬
erent grooms, this noble horse passed
the latter years of bis life far more
peacefully and happily than his great
and unfortunate master. His portrait
also was painted by a famous artist
and now hangs in a country house in
England.
General Robert E. Lee and General
Ulysses S. Grant, General Stonewall
Jackson and Sheridan all brought
their favorite chargers safely through
many bloody battles, and both Gen¬
eral Lee and Jackson were outlived by
their warhorses. Cincinnati, General
Grant’s most famous liorse, was pre¬
sented to him by a man also named
Grant, but not related to tlie great
commander. Cincinnati weathered the
war and died as sincerely lamented as
he had lived respected.
A sober brown horse, the one he
rode at the surrender of Lord Corn
wallis, was hung with elaborate mourn
ing robes and, led by a groom, fol
lowed quietly behind the coffin of his
dead master, General George^ Wash
ington. A true {Virginian, Washing
ton was a splendid horseman : but be
never settled his afiection ou any one
horse. Two or three times be lost bis j
horses in battle, and on one particu- i
larly handsome white horse, Dolly, his j
portrait was painted. ,
None of bis chargers weathered any
number of severe engagements, as did
Old Sorrel aud Traveler, the horses of
Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson,
Traveler carried bis master through
nearly all the battles at which he com
mauded, was never himself wounded,
and in mourning attended the general’s
funeral. It is said he whinnied sadly
when the coffin was borne before him,
and shortly after in grazing about his
peaceful pasture lie stuck a nail in
his foot and died of lockjaw. He, like
Cofienhagen, had honorable burial,
aud, unlike mo.st warhorses, be lived
out bis full allowance of fifteen years.
It was on tbe back of Sorrel that
Stonewall Jackson received his death
Wound, and the plucky little horse
then passed into the keeping of bis
master’s father-in-law, a clergyman. In
1886 he died a death natural to vener¬
able horseflesh after having seen nearly
ten terrible battles, aud bis body, very
skillfully mounted, now stands in a
.glass case in the library of the Sol¬
diers’ home, Virginia.
There are very few American cliil
dreu who do not know that General
Sheridan’s most noted black warhorse
was called Rienzi. He, too, outlive t j
ail-tbe perils of war, not dying until
aid JjjjTfi, when his body was mounted,
now can be seen in tke^ museum j
o® Governor’s island in New York
jKfr i
" ieral Andrew Jackson was an
Ahorse lover, and three fine
®la.w ere always set aside for hia i
e was with the army. Tra- j
koer, does not s ‘*Ythatbe
' 1 i'f^|ftfmr™*fTirMB v Tr
hanstesl and downhearted, were mak¬
ing forced marches along the heavy
roads, he usually preferred to leave
his saddle and march with the sol
diers.
General Fitzliugh Lee rode the
handsomest horse in the confederate
army—a thoroughbred mare named
Nellie Grey. But, spite of her beauty
and her Isold, brave spirit, poor Nellie
f' 1 '! a f tbe ^ f_ tha
battle of \v mebester.—]Sew v York Sim,
I imperfect ly Understood*
It is unfortunate that some teachers
®* ,, ,, 16 ^ U11 « £al1 . ., to . at . ^ . tbemael ., ™ 3
tbe Perceptions ot then- tender
? 1!U '«f ’ They are apt to shoot over
tbea he ds . 11 aud tb eff ct
° tbe ' cherubs ? ’ as 18 were au tbm - S ? bene- , “
n y
.
1 a .'
* cb , At , °° , a so certal “? , . tm “ \ tast e r . a , S° Ead ,, the . „ f teacber nnt } , a ?
talbed ; tbe > uiant “ !aSS , a P ou tbe
e Y 1 s ct strong f drink. The little + tots
f 1 aad 5 hstened attentively to a
long tirade . against the rum demon.
laa u e L ' 1 ' l ®5 cl *f 1 *
v .
me is a motkei.
be cblldren pricked up then ears
at . the.teacher ‘Wine + s vehemence. mocker! she cried
is a
again, like one of the prophets of old.
Tbe children looked very grave in¬
deed.
“Wineis a mocker!” cried the teacher
for the third time,and then she turned
and wrote the sentence in big letters
on the blackboard.
“Now, children,” she exclaimed, as
she turned around, “I want you to
tell me what wine is.”
The little ones looked about va¬
cantly.
“Wine is a mocker!” cried the
teacher, “Now wbat is wine? first
little boy.”
Tbe first little boy looked thought
fill.
^ uie-is-a-marker, lie drawled
‘ no ,>, 8ald tbe teaober ‘ N ext
, “ f oy .*
"
lbe httle W looked . stlU ... more
. ,
+ 11
“Mine—is—a—market, , , „ , be veu
tlu . e(1
“ Xo - ’ no >" ’ fidgeted »° the teacher,
< 1Xext Iittle b
The third little boy smiled. He
was a self-confident little fellow. •
f ‘Wine.....i«—-a—monkey ” heVi.ravely
'answered. * * *
And then the teacher gave it up.—
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Ducks Kill a Muskrat.
A large Pekin duck, owned by
Frank Lewis of New Hampton, N. Y.,
which has hatched out an early brood
of ducklings, took them out on tbe
VValkill for a first lesson iu the art of
swimming. They had gone but a
short distance from the shore when a
muskrat seized one of the ducklings
by the leg. Tbe squawk of fright
which it gave as it was being drawn
beneath tbe water attracted the atten¬
tion of the mother duck, and a few
quick movements of her feet brought
her to the spot in time to seize the
muskrat by the tail.
The muskrat, surprised by tbe at¬
tack, released its grip on the duck¬
ling and turned on tbe big duck. Tbe
thick feathers of the duck protected it
from the muskrat’s teeth, and its at¬
tacks produced so little effect that the
duck did not release lier hold on the
muskrat’s tail.
The splashing of the water made by
j.j, e combatants attracted tbe attun¬
tion of a big drake which was swim
m j U g near, and it came up and assailed
the muskrat with vicious blows of its
strong beak. Tbe rat struggled des
perately to escape, but the duck held
jj. tast, and the drake rained blows
U p 0[1 p until it ceased to struggle,
qtie duck towed it ashore, and both
birds peeked at it until they made
sure was dead. Then the mother
duck collected her brood, and tbe
swimming lesson was resumed as if
nothing had happened. The big
drake, however, kept near, as if ready
to be of service if the ducklings needed
further protection.—Chicago Post,
Tlie Gate of Castle William.
All interesting story connected with
the gate of Castle William, Governor’s
Island, New York harbor, tbe only
part of tbe fort still standing was told
by Mrs. Gilman, wife of Captain Gil¬
man of tbe Thirteenth infantry.
In 1799 a mau who was to be hung
as a spy was confined in the castle.
The commanding officer’s little daugh¬
ter became interested in him and
found that he was a stone-carver. He
offered to carve an ornamental piece
to go over the gate of the sallyport,
which was then being built, if sho
could get him permission. She did,
and. a reprieve was granted bim to
finish it.
When it was done, the child went
to see the ornament put in its place,
and while sho was standing net-r a
rope broke in the hoisting and a hen *y
pj ece of stone would have fallen Li d
crushed her if the prisoner bad not |
x-ushed forward and pushed her
aside. His life was spared,of course,
an( | the stone ornament surmounting
the gate is all that is left to remind
01ie of beautiful story.
A writer on the sight says that wear
ing veils permanently weakens many
naturally good eyes, on account of the
endeavors of the eye to adjust itself to
too
arti.-lo of dress.
NO. <1
A HAIR*TRI«iER TEMPER.
Cjnseii f*.s Possessor an Unhappy Exfifrieiftff
With a Blind Man.
The hasty man fashions many * bit—'
ter pill for his own consumption, and
(he hair-trigger temper is almost al
ways a boomerang to its. unhappy posa
At the intersection of Pennsyl
vania and New York awenpes a few
afternoons ago there occurred an inoi
dent that, implanted in the kindly heart
of a well-known voting Washington
mun a quality of shame that will un
questionably serve as one o® the large*
lessons of his life. The yout«g man, ac
companied by the young woman who
to become.bin wife next month, waa
standing close to the curbstone at the
junction of the two avenues awaiting;
a Georgetown car. The two were chat¬
ting merrily. The girl was in high
spirits, and her laughtei, the assonance
of silvern bells, was pleasant music,
Suddenly the young woman ceased her
laughter, and looked with a flush of
worrimenc in her expression, in the di¬
rection of a fine-looking and well
dressed mun who was standing on the
pavement, leaning slightly against aa
awning pole. Her escort, perceiving
the sudden change ill her manner and
expression, also looked in the same di
rection.
“Why does that man gaze at me so
strangely?” said the girl. "He has been
looking at me with that same intent¬
ness ever since we have been stand¬
ing here, and sometimes half smiling,
too. I am sur* i do not know him.
What can he mean?”
The young man with her flushed with
anger as he looked upon the man point¬
ed out by his fiancee. The man, with
big, clear gray eyes, was still regard¬
ing the girl with a deep intentness of
expression, a smile bickering at the
corners of his strong mouth. He lean¬
ed easily against tne awning pole, and
carried a heavy cane loosely in his left
hand. The girl saw' that her fiancee
was becoming wrought up over the ap¬
parently persistent and flirtatious star*
of the man. jd . -
.. Qh neV er mind,” she said. y’Prob
ably he thinks he knows me. Perhaps
indeed, he has met me somewhere.”
‘ Nothing of the sort, was the reply,
‘The fellow is a masher, pure and
dmule. f. lesson.
The'6hjuef~of the" conversation ..... k«Bt .
his gaze riveted upon the face of the
woman, even whei the latter'ij
fiance approached him ‘menacingly -
Hie young fellow, a powerful man,
raised his right arm, and, wit ' all of
his force, struck the man with clear
gray eyes on the right side of the face
with a heavy open palm. The marks
of his fingers stood out readily ou the
oheek of the man he had struck.
“I’ll teach you, you loafer, to ogle
young women on the stieet," said the
young man as he delivered the blow.
The expression tln.t appeared on the
face of the older man, immediately he
felt the impact of uie blow, was almos t^
inconceivably pathetic. He started
and then turned very pale.
“Man,” he said in a very low tone.
‘I am stone blind.”
No one who witnessed the scene is
likely to forget it, nor can any of the
witnesses: think of the really pitable
grief of the young chap who struck
the blow without feeling for him. He
fairly took the blind man in his arms
in the frenzy of his expostulation. The
blind man generously made light of
it all, but he could not mitigate the
heavy humiliation of the hot-headed
young man.
“I heard the laughter of a young
woman,” said the blind man, quietly.
“It reminded me of the voice in mer¬
riment of a girl I knew before my sight
was taken. That is why I turned in the
direction whence the laughter came.”
Then a lad, in the livery of a “but¬
tons,” emerged from the drug store into
Which his master had seut him on an
errand, and taking the blind man by
the hand, led him carefully up 15th
Street.
The men and women who saw and
heard it all felt almost as sorry for
the naturally generous but foolishly
impetuous young man who had struck
the blow as they did for the blind man.
—Washington S!:;r.
GEORGIA RAILROAD. .
*
-A IV X>—
Connections.
For Information as to Routed, Sched>
—ules and Rates, Both—
Passenger and Freight
Write to either of the undersigned.
Yon will receive prompt reply and
reliable information.*
JOE. W, WHITE, A. G. JACKSO ■
T. P. A. G. P. A.
Auwusta ( Gra,
8. W. "WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON.
C. F. & P. A. G. A.
Atlanta. * Athene.
W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAGIL&,
S. A. 0. F. A.
Macon. Maooa.
M. R. HUDSON, F. W. COFFIN, ’
S. F. A. S. F. & P. A. {
Milledgeyille . Augusta,