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YOL. X.
OFF TO THE DREAM ISLE,
BY GEXEKEE BICHABDSOX.
Rest in your cradle, Bonniest love-bird s
Twilight Dreamily is sway, ■Nestled t A 11 the land wide ,
silver, for night in
Dear Hushing little the day, Check Pale eventide;
Drooping barefoot, Like warmly tinted,
Rest till the your dawn eyes, light Long, a rose, lashes
Creeps in the skies. Lulled curving
to a close.
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Quivering leaflets Drowsily Forward crooning 05?,
Softer voice take. and fro,
Stars step like fairies, Off to the dream isle
Still the blue lake, Babe and I go,
Birds only listen, Drowsily crooning,
Hid in the trees, Forward and fro.
Lest they may startle . Off to the dream isle
Babykin’s ease. Babe end I go.
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M RS, KAVANAUGH, a frail
■ little woman of, iorty-five?
with q few hundred dollars
sewecT to her dress,' and the
fire of hope in her bright grdy ■ eyes,
had come into .the strip two years af
ter its ...opening. Of course she; got the.
Worst of it, for the choice, laud .was
already takem and the. self-satisfied
Settlers’ .tv bo watched her old gray
liorse ..i:!id cla.rCring buggy meander
across tlieir fields, smiled'’fiaif-pUyiiig
iy'at the tardy boomer.'
at 'Jast she set up her little
athlieil out her horse
rocky quarter section, wlii-n
short looked stunted,
pitied U.r and #ome of ihr
a;:v rniiigjtsfey couid lead
she oply’thanked tfioui, as
she '“would get along all
right,” so that the women who passed
by her tent every day began to say that
she was “stuck up,” and the farmers,
who knew that she was on an almost
barren claim, only grinned and mut¬
tered: “She won’t last mor’n one sea
son.”
But she fooled thorn. A tiny shack
was built by a half-breed who hauled
the lumber from the railway station in
her buggy. Ho built a frail little fence
;
around a few acres of her ground, and
left her at home on the desolate hill
she had chosen. Then every morning
when the sun swung up from the yel¬
low floor of the dry prairie that
stretched from her door to the horizon,
she was out in her little garden dig¬
ging, planting, cultivating the small
space from which she hoped at least
to wring a living. In the afternoon
she would hitch up her aged nag and,
•dressed in her best widow’s weeds, set
off for the postofuce five miles away.
She brought home a few chickens, and
in the lengthening evening hours sat
knitting at her lovr hack door, watch¬
ing the sun drop down into the path¬
less, treeless west.
When spring had come and gone and
tits. Ivavanaugh’s little garden showed
all the squalor of its pinched cabbages
and sickly vines the passing neighbors
pitied her. If they had known her
simple story perhaps they might have
helped her develop her poor land, but
she confided in none, and came at last
to be known as a headstrong, cranky
old woman, who would be better off
“back East” with her people. Rain or
shine, spring, summer, autumn and
' winter, she drove to town, tied her
horse at tlic postofiice and asked for a
letter. The overworked clerk came
to know her at last, and with an effort,
at kindly deception, for there had never
come a letter for her, would shuffle
•over the package of K.’s and Say soft¬
ly: “Nothing to-day, Mrs. Kava
naugh.” Then she would drop the old
crepe veil that was growing rusty,
draw a letter from her pocket, and
drop It into the box. That was for
her son, her runaway boy, and it was
always addressed; “Mr. Tom Kava
liaugh. Twenty-seventh Infantry, Ma¬
nila, Philippine Islands.” Every day
she sent him a letter and every day
she looked for an answer. But none
came, and the nervous old woman
went gravely back in her rickety bug¬
gy to the lonely shanty upon the deso-
‘To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the cky, thou cans’tnot then be false to any man.”
LINCOLNTON, GA , THURSDA Y; JULY 31.1902.
late hill to watch the sun set and to
hope and pray.
Her boy Tom had run away from
home before his drunken father had
died. He had written her .just one line:
“Gone to the Philippines with the
Twenty-seventh Infantry.” ■ tie had
been gone a year when Ills father died.
She had written to him often, hut,
knowing what a thoughtless boy he
■was, first attributed his silence to
geifulness and neglect When she told
him of his father's death, she felt sure
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CALLED E VERY DAY.
of some answer, and though none came
she continued to write gentle, loving,
warning letters to the absent scape
grace. He had been a youth of some
spirit, and she knew that his father’s
dishonor in their home had driven him
into the army, but with all her moth¬
er's condoning love, she could not un¬
derstand why he did not at least send
her a word. She hated the town which
had been the scene of her own and her
boy's disgrace and separation, and
when the “new country” was opened
and the stories of its glowing future
reached her she sold her out all her
belongings and set forth to find a home
that should be her boy’s home, too.
After two years of this eventless life
Mrs. Kavanaugh came to be recog¬
nized as one of the characters of the
town. Most people thought her harm¬
lessly insane. The sand storms and
the careening winds, the burning suns
and winter snows, had turned her
withered cheeks to parchment. Her
old crepe veil was brown now; her ill
made black alpaca dress, threadbare
and discolored, hung loosely about her
shrunken body. When the third win¬
ter came she sold her horse and buggy
for ?30, but bought only shoes that she
“Mammy, don't you Know me.?”
“Rogers,” she murmured, feeling his
face with tremulous hope and fear,
“Rogers? If it’s you, Tom, why are
you Rogers?”
“I wasn’t of age, mammy, when' I
enlisted. I was afraid daddy would
stop me, so I took Rogers.”
And as he held her close to his breast,
and felt the hot tears drip on his hand
he did not ask for liis father, for on
the wall he saw the’ weather-beaten
widow’s cap and the dusty veil of
mourning.—John H. Raftery, in the
Ghicago-RecOrd Herald.
Mount Etna’s Height.
The height of Mount Etna, the fa¬
mous volcano, of Sicily, has long been
fixed at lO,SGd feet. Its* height lias, re¬
cently been more accurately measured
by trigonometrical processes, and the
exact elevation is found to be 10,Too
feet. The difference is not important,
but the more Exact determination will,
of course, be given on the maps here¬
after published.
The main crater has a w.idth of 1728
feet and a depth of SSO.feet.
Mount Etna lias periods of almost
complete quiescence. Six years' had
elapsed after the eruption of 1892,
might trudge' to town and stamps and
paper that she might sei d her daily
letter to the hoy. Silent, lowed, tear¬
less, but with a quenchless light of
hope in her mother eycfe, each day
she stood in line at lltttjl" the window and
asked-softly for the that pever
came. The postmaster, iflio bad hfdA
guessed her story, tried to' win her .con¬
fidence. Ke wanted to-dwlp her some
way, but she evaded all ills questions.
And then at last there came a clay
when she did not call at the postofflce.
It was quite an event, for the post¬
master and Ids clerk had come to re¬
gard her visit as the one inevitable and
poignant occurrence of each day’s busi¬
ness. So that night, suspecting the
worst, he drove in his buggy to her
lonely home. She was in bed, quite
ill, it seemed, but gently grateful foir
his visit.
“I, did my best,” sir, she told him,
“but; my money is all gene. I killed
my last chicken last StiDday, and now,
God help me, I must sell, my home, his
home,” and she. looked 'around the
wretched, candle-lighted room with
dim. wet eyes.
“It will be best for you,, Mrs. Kava
naugh,” quoth the post yfutre ulster, kindly;
‘•you’re too—that is, no longer
young or strong euoug! Jlto live like
this. Have you no reiaW'es? no chil¬
dren?” It 7.
“Oh, yes sir,” she answered, .<£, proudly
looking up. “I have a sir; a Sue
boy; but he’s away in i cfc't army, and
it’s on his account l want to
give But it up.” persuaded hey xj--.. to ride to
he
town there with would him, be and ussjpred al»ut her that sell¬
no i..
ing her place. \ l
“It's not worth nitfeh, know,” she
said, as they drove tow; >d town, “but.
.
much it as than I want take charily.1” to keo;| it, I’d rather
He assured her viiftlshe might
“board” at his home itu }he had sold
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wmk f i “Jli fill Boots, Shoes &
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Oents _ Brogan bents the worm.]
Our One Dollar and Fifty Cents Shoes are simply superb, Dollar l and
Our Two Dollar Vici Kid Shoes a big value. Our 1 wo
Fiftv Cents Hand-sewed Shoes are the best on the market.
"We can give you Ladies Shoes at 75c, but the Shoes we want to sell
Ladies ron are $1.00 and $1.25 Ladies every day Shoes and our $1.2o and $l.oD
Dress Shoes Thev are EED HOT BARGAINS and don t you
forget it. How our $2.00 Ladies Shoes are as good as anybody s $d.0D
Bll 063 and this line of Shoes this
We never forget the Children and Babies
season is better Hi an ever before.
HATS! HATS! HATS!
Our prices in Hats are simply Tornado Swept. Me give you b°Y*
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.
We don’t expect any one to come within a milo of us this season m
Price and Quality. When in the city be sure to Gal), and Examine anu be
Convinced.
•)
907 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga.
when in the autumn" of 189S blue
flames began to emerge from the
mouth of the largest crater, and a
great deal of vapor was emitted from
the lesser orifices. It was then an¬
nounced that Etna seemed to be pre
paring for an effusion of laVa, probably
on tile 0 r southwest slopes. The
tefl crnptlon< howe ver, did r»
beg . n w tfae m01 , ning of j„ ly 19, 1899,
wl)en sl . eat volumes of smoke and
laya began to issue froU! the main
crater )jUt aftel . seV eral days the ac
tivitv gradually subsided, and Etna
gooa resmilcc i its peaceful aspect and
has since seemed to he in a slumber¬
ous condition.
TU© Poison of the Inly.
A German botanist has disco' ered
that the pretty flower known as the
lily of the Talley contains a poison of
the most deadly kind. Not only the
flower itself but also the stem as well
contains an appreciable quantity of
prussie acid. While injecting a concoc
tion of lily of the valley into the ear of
a guinea pig he noticed the animal sue
cumbed immediately, with all the
symptoms of poisoning by hydrocyanic
acid, says the Pittsburg Dispatch,
Chemical analysis of the little plant
has disclosed, however, the presence of
this poisonous constituent, to which—
strange to say—scientists attribute pre
c-isely the penetrating perfume of the
lily of the valley. The attention of the
German botanist has been drawn by
the place, and she vt ent , t ,, lere only , .
lapse into a fever that taxed the best
ingenuity of the two doctors of the
town. Sue was a worn, ghostly old
woman when at last she sat up and the
postmaster told her that he had sow
her place for ?5O0. j
“If feel able can just _ «g» _
you you j
the deed; the money is ready down at
the bank, and Mr. Rogers, the young j
fellow who place wants to look buy it, it has over.” gone j
out to the to
So she signed the document, a few' i
weak tears dropping upon it, and hand
ed it back to the postmaster. He took
it and left her alone, but in the even¬
ing, when be came home to supper,
he came quickly into her room and
said:
“Mrs. Kavanaugh, the man who
bought your place, Mr. Rogers, wants
to see you a moment, Shall I show
hiiq in?”
And when he came in she felt for her
glasses, hut could net Cnd them, so
she bade him sit down and told him
that there were a few things in the
old shack, her Bible and an old album,
that sho wished to take away. And
the stranger, a freckled, red-haired
giant, took her hand and whispered:
NO. 9.
tlifoact that one of liis gardenersSias
felojuihself seized with dizziness and
vo: ,Hfg after having inadvertently
rais^t a-bunch of lilies'of the valley to
his glputh, the lips of which were
era d
As V^eWed by the Departing Prisoner,
Tke'bRcv. Samuel S. ; Searing, chap-*
Iain of the House of Correction, South
Boston,, frequently has amusing ex¬
periences 'with the prisoners who.
come lawltp didder liis care. He is required
by have an interview with,,ev¬
ery mat} whose time has expired and
who isTibout to leave the house. ■ It
is the ehapiain’s duty to give, the de¬
parting'prisoner good advice and to
exhort film to be a decent and honor¬
able man*, in the future. ^
In the course of one of these inter¬
views tM| chaplain said: “Now, mjf
friend,- lAhope you’ll never have t«
come baca to a place like this.”
The aud’jisen prisfeer looked at him thought¬
fully asked: “I say, chaplain,
you draw?* MrJlSearlng salary here, don’t you?”
When- replied in the af«i
flrmativiv’whe «iyj4it' prisoner remarked:
“Well, -^!h’'J.keep me and the other fel
lows coming back , you’d
be out^f a : yob.”— Boston HaralS. • •ft
Didn’t Dlsturft Anybody.
The rude boys of the neighborhood,
having learned that there had been a
wedding in the lone brick house near
the edge of town that evening, had
been giving the happy couple a ser¬
enade with tin horns, cowbells and
other musical instruments for four or
five hours, when an upper window was
raised and a nightcapped head was
thrust forth.
"Don’t stop if you’re having a good
time, boys,” said a voice pertaining to
the nightcapped head, ‘You ain't
disturbin’ nobody. The young folks
that was married here this evenin’
are deaf and dumb.” *■
Then the window was lowered again,
and deep silence immediately began to
reign.—Chicago Tribune.
Faria Prohibits Placards.
in Paris it was usual at every gen
era i election to see all the public bulla
[ n g S disfigured by the enormous quan
tity of election addresses and other
placards posted upon them. At the
time of the Boulanger incidents bill
posters would follow in rapid succes
sion and not stick bill than upon one Dill inch l * nt Oj. ^
there was more
paper. The extremely ugly effect of
such placards and the damage done by
scraping down the posters after the
electoral battle induced the^ chamber
j to make a law prohibiting the posting
j up of placards on what was termed
> artistic monuments.—Paris Messenger.