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YOL. IX.
INDIVIDUALISM,
Each man. a world—to other worlds half
known—
Turns on a tiny axis of his own;
His full life orbit is a pathway dim
To brother planets that revolve with him.
—William H. Hayne, in McClure’s.
P MISS KATE. ) 0
0
0 P
P 0
By Jean E. Somebton.
Slender, but not slim, with soft,
hazel eyes and long lashes, pale com¬
plexion, light brown hair, with hero
and there a strand of gray, not pretty
but attractive looking, simple in man¬
ner, speech and dress—that was Miss
Kate.
That she was an old maid was be¬
yond dispute. Her most intimate friend
would not have denied it if he could;
though for the matter of that he
could not, belonging, as he did, to the
feline species, and not being blessed
with the power of speech. She was
“turned” 35 if she was a day, and the
most hopeful of that social scourge as
match makers had long since
scratched her name off their list of
possibilities. Miss cottage,
Kate lived in her own
and the lawn in front of it was the
neatest in Grantley, as the little par¬
lor inside was the tidiest. The cat
that monopolized the hearth rug in the
parlor of evenings was as sleek
could be, and exceptionally well be¬
haved. The furniture was oid-fash
ionej, but the easy chairs were com¬
fortable, and the room certainly had a
cozy appearance.
That Miss Kate had a good heart
and a kind one I can vouch for, and so
could many a barefooted lad and many
an overworked -factory girl. There
was no Sunday school teacher in
Grantley and as b^jggd by fijwar her of scholars, Jier.fu-
~~mous cookies.
I was not surprised to hear one day
that Miss Kate had had a bit of ro¬
mance in her life that the younger
generation had never heard of and the
older ones had nearly forgotten. There
had been a certain handsome young
112 an who had courted her in the old
days and not unsuccessfully. He had
been practicing law for three or four
years and his prospects were bright.
He was genial in his manner, but
proud to a fault, He was tall and
broad shouldered, had very black hair
and eyes to match.
He had never been a lady’s man, and
despite the fact that many jaunty caps
were set for him, he had not responded
until he met Kate Morton at a church
festival. From that evening he wae a
determined wooer ,and although she
did not apparently reciprocate at
first, his youth, good looks and a win¬
ning tongue were finally successful.
So at last she loved him in return—
and the gossips began to wonder when
the day would be set and to surmise
among themselves that it had been sot
and was still a secret. Whether it
really had or had not hen Seth Gray
knew and Miss Kate knew, but the
gossips never found out.
Of the matrimonially inclined young
ladies who had set their caps for Seth
Gray before tne fateful church festi¬
val, none had set them so art
fully and hopefully as Barbara
Martin, She was a pretty girl,
with sparkling black eyes and
wopt to deck out in the gayest colors
and ribbons imaginable. She had
Spanish blood in her veins, and was
proud of it, and proud of her temper,
too. Although Seth had never paid
her any serious attention, she had ap¬
peared" atractive to him until he met
Kate. If it had not been for that there
is no telling what might have hap
pened.
Miss Martin was not a young lady
to submit to a total eclipse calmly,
and one day, about the time that the
gossips had setled it satisfactorily,
among themselves that the day had
finally been set, she came to the con¬
clusion that matters had progressed
far enough, and made an afternoon
call on her successful rival. She left
her pretty airs and graces at home
with her gay ribbons that day, and
was a sad enough figure when her
hostess ushered her into the parlor—
the same little parlor, although Miss
Kate’s mother was living then, and it
was brighter to her then it was in
after years.
Barbara Martin told her story well,
and wept seemingly bitter tears over
it. She told how Seth Gray had wooed
‘To thjne own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’t not then be false to any man.”
LINCOLNTON, GA , THURSDAY, MAY 1.1902.
and won and had promised to marry
her, and how the day had been named,
and how he had kept up the cruel de¬
ception ever after he met Kate her¬
self, and how heartlessly he had finally
thrown her over and laughed at her.
Then, when she saw that the girl at
her side appeared sorely troubled, she.
became remorseful and vowed that she
ought not to have told her. Then she
grew hysterical and railed against all
men, and despised herself for an idiot
to have trusted one of them.
Her audior was very quiet through
it all, but Barbara Martin knew that
her shaft had been a straight one, and
went home exulting. After she had
gone, Kate did what many another
giri in her place would have done; she
had a hard cry. She did not tell her
mother. She could not have told any
one. She hated to think that even
Barbara Martin knew the man she
loved, in such an altered light, but the
mere fact of thinking of him softened
her and she hoped—ay, in the loyalty
of her heart she trusted—that Seth
had been misunderstood.
There snouid be no misunderstand¬
ing between them. She determined to
tell him that evening, when he called,
all that she had heard. But tangled
through her trouble was a sore feeling
of disappointment that Seth could
have even carelessly trifled with an
other girl, and the feeling, too, of un
conscious jealously in the thought that
he had prolonged the farce after he
had began wooing of herself. It was
a feeling akin to resentment against
him, in justice to herself.
, When he entered the parlor a few
hours later, he knew at once that
something was wrong and Kate did
not leave him icng in doubt. She told
him the whole story, only withholding
the name of her informant. She kept
back her tears, too, and the effort
made her voice hard. She waited for
him to speak when she had finished,
and if they had been siting nearer to
each other would have touched his
i said that Seth Gray was proud, and
if ever a proud man was humiliated
that man V;as himself. No other proof
than her own voice could have made
him think that this young woman
could believe for a moment such a
base falsehood against his manhood.
The feeling of deep injury and indig¬
nation was uppermost in his mind.
Without a "word he rose and turned
to go. At the door he paused an in¬
stant to look at her; then there was a
quick, firm step on the gravel walk,
the gate shut noisily, and he was gone.
From that night Kate never saw Seth
Gray again.
Never saw him again? How many
times she saw him in that doorway,
when the cat was purring contentedly
on the rug and the little earthenware
teapot was singing cheerfully on the
hearth, only Miss Kate knew. How
many times that last reproachful
glance looked in upon her during the
lonely nights of the long years that
folowed, when the whole bitter truth
was before her, only Miss Kate knew.
How utterly dreary the tidy little par¬
lor was at times during the long, long
hours, when the thought of that last
night came back to her; how often the
soft gray eyes wept bitterly when she
thought of the wrong that she had
done him, and that she could never
undo now, Miss Kate and only Miss
Kate knew.
And that was the story of her ro¬
mance. A late train, westbound, car¬
ried Seth Gray away that night. She
lived her life as best she could, and be¬
fore her little world the thorns in her
path were trodden unflinchingly.
Whenever a woman’s hand was need¬
ed, there was Miss Kate; wherever
chatirable duties was the hardest, in
the coldest winters, among the worst
class of people; there was Miss Kate;
and although her purse was not a
large one it was open constantly.
I think that it was this constant do¬
ing of good, this never ceasing heal¬
ing of bodies, minds and hearts, that
kept the hard liner, off her face, even
when the early gray strands glisten¬
ed in her brown hair.
If there was one weakness for which
she had no compassion, it was the
weakness of drunkenness. If there
were any medieants that left her door
empty handed, they were those who
went there with the fumes of alcohol
on the breath. Truly the drunkard in
her eyes was detestable.
And so the summers and the win¬
ters pased until the time came when
Miss Kate had become an old maid be¬
yond dispute. New lives came into
the little town and old lives went out.
Girls in pinafores and small boys in
trousers grew to be women and men,
married and set up for themselves;
but to Miss Kate one year was but a
repetition of another and it sometimes
seemed to her that she was contin¬
ually going around in a eireie that had
long since become monotonous.
If Mis Kate ever thought that she
might have made her life happier, she
guraded the thought well; and if the
smiling matrons ever occasioned the
slightest envy in her breast, they
could as easily have learned it from
the exterior of the neat cottage as
from its prime mistress.
One wintery March morning she
started out, with a basket on her arm,
to visit a sick family, and she noticed
a small crowd of men and boys a short
distance from her gate, The gibes
that reached ner ears and the incoher¬
ent profanity that followed, told her
that a drunken man was the center of
tue group.
She knew that she would be obliged
to pass them, but with the determina¬
tion not to be aetered from her pur¬
pose by such an unworthy cause, she
held her head a trifle higher, involun¬
tarily drew her skirts closer about her.
and walked on. As she neared the
group she saw that the man was reel¬
ing; he was a wretched looking creat¬
ure, with unkempt beard and much
worn clothing. She gave him one look
and the basket dropped from her arm.
She walked straight up to him, laid
her hand on his frayed sleeve and led
him to her own gate, up the gravel
walk and into the old parlor, which
was looking very comfortable this cold
morning. -,V
She cried over him and bathed his
face with cold water, and finally cook
ea him the daintiest breakfast imagin¬
able. Who would have thought it of
Miss Kate? AM what would the peo
pie say? Little she cared for Mrs.
Grundy then!
tears, there wi r* lighter heart
the world jM ihj| n'.cri
If there .
letura; f alter' the years cavue
and went she had sometimes felt that
she was hoping against hope, And
now he had come back. What did it
matter how he had come? He had
come and that was enough.
At first Seth was dazed and insen¬
sible to his suroundings, but when the
breakfast was brought into him he
ate like a hungry man. Miss Kate,
wise woman that she was, had boiled
some black coffee, so strong that its
very aroma might have had a sobering
influence, and when Seth had drank
two big cups of it, he began to look
around him. The little parlor had not
changed so very much in ali those
years, and remembering how he had
landed in C-rantly the night before, it
began to dawn upon him where he
really was. Then his eyes rested on
Miss Kate and he knew it all.
He buried his face in his hands and
sobbed. But the arms of a woman
were about the worn coat, and the
tired head was on her breast, and the
uncombed hair was anointed with her
tears.
Did they marry? What a question!
Of course they did! Seth Gray was
not a habitual drunkard. He reform¬
ed, and with reformation came health
and success. There never was a bet¬
ter husband, and the happiest wife ia
Grantly is —Miss Kate. -— Waverley
Magazine.
Speetl of tho Carrier Pi-eou.
Some years ago Griffit made some
observations (recorded in the Field,
February 19, 1887,) in a closed gallery
on the speed atained by “blue-rock”
pigeons and English pheasants and
partridges. The two first mentioned
flew at the rate of only 32.8 miles per
hour, while the partridge made but 28.4
miles, and these rates were ail con¬
siderably in excess of what they made
in the open. The carrier pigeon is
rather a fast-flying bird, yet the aver¬
age speed is not very great. Thus, the
average made in eighteen matches
(The Field, January 22, 1887,) was
only 36 English miles an hour, al¬
though in two of these trials a speed
of about 55 miles was maintained for
four successive hours. In this coun¬
try the average racing speed is appar¬
ently about 35 miles an hour, although
a few exceptionally rapid birds have
made short distance flights at the rate
of at from 45 to 52 miles an hour. The
longest record flight of a carrier pig¬
eon was from Pensacola, Florida, to
Fall River, Mass., an air-line distance
of 1,183 miles, made in 15 1-2 days, or
only about 76 miles a day.
If you want peace -<*rj vjten you
have to fight for it.
How to do Business in Mexico.
It is difficult for an American busi
ness man to appreciate fully the dif¬
ferences that exist in Mexican busi
ness customs, Not a few important
undertakings have been abandoned
through the demands for more im¬
mediate results from the men at the
other end. A representative is sent
here to inaugurate a business or se¬
cure concessions, and when these
things are not secured in the time
supposed to he necessary from ex¬
perience in the states disappointment
ensues that occasionally results in the
representative’s recall and the aband¬
onment of the field, Such instances
are probably the best, The firm that
does not select its foreign represen¬
tative with care and send them out
with confidence that they will do the
best they can under the circumstances
as they find them will scarcely make
a success in Mexico, Some of Mexi*
co’s business customs are undergoing
gradual change, but few transactions
are ,consummated with the same rapid¬
ity as in the States, nor is the result
arrived at in the same manner. There
is much good business to be found
in this modern pushing, expanding
Mexico, but a very large per cent
of it is to he secured from men of
other nationality than American, and
the sharp trader is the one who can
adapt himself to the laws and cus¬
toms of a country filled with a cos¬
mopolitan population.—Modern Mexi
co.
E90
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. Bargains and Better
e Hotter
Shoes than ever was
E. G. TARVER, Manapw Before.
Our One Dollar Brogan is better. Out One Dollar and Twenty-five
Cents Brogan beats the world.
Our One Dollar end Fifty Cents Shoes are simply superb. Dollar and
Onr Two Dollar Vici Kid Shoes a big value. Our Two
Fifty Cents Hand-sewed Shoes are the best on the market.
We can give yon Ladies Shoes at 75c, but the Shoes we want to sell
rou are $1.00 and $1.25 Ladies every clay Shoes and our $1.25 and $1.50
Ladies Dress Shoes. They are BED HOT BARGAINS and don’t you
forget it. Now our $2.00 Ladies Shoes are as good as anybody’s $<3.00
Shoes. of shoes this
We never forget the Children and Babies and this line
season is better than ever before.
HATS’ HATS’ HATS!
Our prices in Hats are simply Tornado Swept. Ale give you Bovs
Hats 10c, a real good Hat 25c. Men's Felt Hats 65c, Men’s Extra Good
Felt Hats $1.00, and so on to the end.
AVe don’t expect any one to come be within a Call mile and of us Examine this^ season and be m
Brice and Quality. AVTien in the city sure to
Convinced.
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907 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.
Breathes Through Its Tail,
Insects that breathe through then
tails are rare, but the state geologist
received two specimens from Prof. O.
F. Fidlar of Vincennes, Ind., who de¬
sired to know what manner of creat
ures they are. Professor Blatehley
says the insect is known as the rat
tailed-maggot. It is the young of a
sweat bee or fly, the eristalis, a genus
of syrphid flies. Tail and all, it is about
an inch long, but the body is between
an eighth and a quarter of an inch
long. It moves from place to place
something like a snake. In answering
Professor Fidlar’s inquiry, Professor
Blatehley wrote of t-.e tail:
“This is a respiratory tube wtiich
enables the insect to obtain air when
its body is submerged beneath several
inches of water or decaying matter.
This tube is,telescopic in nature, and
can be lengthened or shortened as the
insect may need it. At its tip there
is a rosette of minute hairs, which,
floating on the surface of the water,
keep the top from being submerged.”
Tt’s easy to be good-natured if you
have nothing else to. do.
NO. 48 .
We Call Them Turnips.
A well-known Philadelphia athlete,
who has several times won amateur
wrestling championships, was staying
in England recently, where he was the
guest of a former Philadelphian. The
wrestler took a delight in buying fine
specimens of vegetables, fruit, etc.,
and it was seldom he returned from
a drive along the Strand or Oxford
street without bringing in something
special for dinner. He had bought a
crab six times bigger than the Amer¬
ican variety, had purchased green
gages as big as large plums, and had
frequently carried home in triumph
strawberries the size of walnuts. One
day he returned with a package undei
his arm which he guarded carefully.
His host asked him what his latest
discovery was, and he replied:
“I have at last secured a prize, and
I bet you have never seen their equal."
“Well, what is it?”
“Radishes, my hoy, as big as your
fist, and not woozy, either.”
“Let me look,” replied the host.
The athlete carefully opened the
package and with extreme care laid
them on the table, saying, “I wish 1
could show them to some of my Phila,
delphia friends. They would take
a first prize in any show. How da
you like them?”
The host looked at them with admir¬
ing eyes and slowly remarked:
"Yes, very fine; hut we call them
turnips in this country.”—Philadel¬
phia Telegraph.
Two Criticism* oa Sermons.
The Rev. Dr. W. S. Rainsford, ree.
tor of St. George’s church, New York,
derives much enjoyment from the
criticisms of his sermons which he
hears from time to time. He has
an artful way of calling forth these
expressions, and enjoys telling of
some very frank replies he has receiv¬
ed. He recently asked a young par¬
ishioner, who is an attentive listener:
“Well, Dorothy, how did you like
my Advent sermon?"
“It was very peculiar, doctor,” re¬
plied the precocious 11-year-old. “You
read so many texts from the Bible.”
The doctor missed from the services
a stern-faced but kindly old woman of
New England stock, and sought her
out.
“I have not seen you at church late¬
ly,” he said.
“The fact is, doctor, I have been go¬
ing to St. .• •’s.”
“Don’t you like St. George’s?” the
clergyman asked.
“Yes,” was the hesitating reply,
“but there is not enough hellfire in.
your sermons. You are too easy oa.
sinners.”