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COLUMBUS STJisrb-A.Y. ENQUIRER. Ink vessels, ijsspw&jssSl. COLUMBUS, GEORGIA, SUNDAY, AUGUST 30, 1874. YOL. XV1.-NO. 202 IHE EMU ANTED VARDEM. BY irUAR A. FOE. .r theo once, once only—years ago, i not say how many—but not many ; la July midnight: and from out orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, ping, la precipitate pathway up thro' heaven, nil a silve-y, silken veil ot light, pletude and < tilluess, and slumber he upturnod laces of a thousand it grew in an enchanted garden, > wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe; te upturned faces of these roses lout, In return lor the love-light, . reus souis, in an ecstatic death; Veil Ml Ike upturned faces of these roses Thai (tolled and died in this partlerre, en- obsatad By tb«to and by the poetry of thy presence. Gladwhito, upon a violet bunk I mvmi half reclining : while the moon FeUTtortoa upturned tacos of those roses, And<Hkthino own upturned—alas in sorrow. jt fate, tint, on this July midnight, Into (who.-u name Is also sorrow), me pause before that garden gate, t the incense of those slumbering I stirred: the hated world all slept, _/theo and mo (oh Hoaven, oh God !) Ho# tot heart boats In coupling those two In mind this garden was enchanted); |y iustro or tho moon w«-nt out; y * unks and the meandering paths, at them—they wero the world to me; It them—saw only them for hours— |y them until the moon went down. a short amid the entombing trees » away—only thine eyes remained, d not go-they never yet have gone. i ll KMT’S WORK. Sfe- BY MRS. GASKIIjL. e<l from tho English. [continued.] « j . CHAPTER VI. At Slater—just whon the heavens and •irtb wore looking their dreariest, for Eaater foil very early this year—Mr. Gorbot oine down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of hiin;they wore togeth er oVOB Iofh than usual, although not less friendly vh< n they did meet. But to El- linor tbd visit was ono of unmixed happi- Jitherto she had ulwoys had a *jt- hinglod tip with her love of Mr. but bis manners wore softened, pun less decided and abrupt, and »treatment of her showed such i thut tho youug girl basked id in it. Oue or two of their Stations had reference to their fu- j-ried life in London, aud she then tojrwtOed, although it did not jar against bor. that her lover had not forgotten his ambition ill his love, lie tried to inoc ulate hat with something of his own era- ▼inf for anccoKs in life; hut it was all in wain; aha nestled to him and told him aba did not care to be the Lord Chancel lor^ wifa—wigs and woolsacks were not In bar line; only if he wished it she would wish it. Tba last two days of hiH stay the waathar changed. Sudden heat burst forth, aa it docs occasionally for a few houia ovan ill our chilly English spring. Tho gray brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the teu- dor groon shade which iH the foretunner Of tht bursting leaves. The sky was of full doodles* blue. Mr. Wilkins was to coma homeprcltv early from the office to vide oat with his daughter aud her lover; bat after waitiug some time for him, it grow too late, aud they were obliged to giro up ''•the project. Nothing would OOCTO Ellin or, then, but that she must oht a table and have tea iu the , on tho cunuy side of the tree, tito roots of which she used to Hr a child. Miss Monro ol _ _ \ this caprice of Ellinor’s, saying kllr'Wfts too early for out-of-door meals; I, Corbet overruled ull objections ^gggllOlpt'd Elliuor in her preparations. . gua always kept to tho early hours of her Childhood, although she as then, regularly aatwith her father at his late diuuer, aud . this anaal, al-fresco, was to bo a reality to ■to gnd^liss Monro. There was a place I for her father, and she seized i as ho was coming from the sta- [ by tho shrubbery path, to his \ with merry playfulness made oner, accusing him % of disnp- • igH^wilwg Oifi-.i of their ride, and drawing Hg» morath->n half unwilling, to his chair by the table But ho was silent, and al- moat sad; bi’ presence damped thorn all, they ooold bardlv tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he soeinod to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at EUinor’a occasional sallies. These be came more and more rare as she perceiv ad her father's depression. She watched film anxiously, lie perceived it, and said —ahivering In that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing oyer the earth that will ono day form your grave— “Ellinor! this is not a day forout-of- door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite nf all your good tea.” “Ob, papa! I nm so sorry. But look how full that hot sun’s rays ejuio'on this turf. I thought 1 had chosen such a capital spot 1” . Bat he got tip and persisted in leaving the table, although ho was evidently sor ry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by tham, talking to thorn, as he kept passing by, and trying to cheer them up. “Am you warmer now, papa ?” asked Ellinor. , . “(Ml yes, all right. It is only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I am aa warm as a toast now.” The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably lino weather passed away too, end all things went back to thair rather gray aud dreary aspect; but Ellinor whe too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge uucon- soioualy trusting in the sun behind the clouds. 1 have laid that few or none in the im- iborhood of liamley, bo ll household aud Mr. Ness, or’s engagement. At oue er parties to which she father—it was at the old chaperoned her to tho was taken in to dinner * medi aides tl knew of of the rsj nfcani lady’s hoi assemble by a young clergyman staying in the imMiborhodt. lie had just had a small Imng given to him iu his own county, and he felt rs if this was a great step in Ida life. He was good, innocent, and r boyish iu appearance. Ellinor was bag#* and at her ease, and chatted away to ws Mr* Livingstone on many little poinui of. Interest which they found they badIto common, church music, and the Ity they had of getting people to irts; Salisbury Cathedral, which tli seen: styles of church ar- Buskin’s works, and pariah Ur. Livingstone, was life, that her father had taken more wiue thuu was good for him. Indeed, this had rathor become a habit with him of late; but as ho always tried to go quietly off to his own room whon such had been tho case, bis daughter had never been made aware of it before, aud the percep tion of it now made her cheeks hot with shumo. She thought that every one must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and af ter a pause of sick silence, during which sho could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, auytuiug, with redoubled vigor and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of tho company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully ob vious. The effect of her behavior was far more than sho had iutonded. She had kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observ ing her father; but she also riveted his attention on herself. Ho had thought her very pretty aud agreeable during din ner; but ut ter dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He drotimed of her all night, and wakeutd up next morn ing to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty uew parsonage with that crowing blessing —u wife. For a day or two he did up lit tle sums, and sighed, and thought of Elli nor, her face listening with admiriug in terest to his sermons, her arm passed iu- to his as they went together round the parish, her sweet voice instructing class es iu his schools—turn where ho would,in his imagination Ellinor’s presence rose up before him. The consequenco was that ho wrote ad offer, which ho found a far more perplex ing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospeets and future hopos, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morn ing ho would call to kuow whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the sub ject of this letter. It was given to Elli nor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins w’as dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which ho had sent word fioui the office— gentleman's dinner party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Harnley without com ing home. Ellinor tnrued over the letter w hen it was brought to her, as some peo ple do when they cannot recognize tho hand-writing, ns if to discover from pa per or seal what two moments would as sure them of if they opened the letter aud looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outwnrd sign; but the moment she saw tho name “Herbert Livingstone” the meuuiug of tho letter Hashed upon her, and she colored all over. Mho put the lotter away, unread, for a few minutes, und then made some excuse for leaving the room and going up stairs. When safe in her bod chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self- roproach. How must she, engaged to oue man, buvo been behaving to another, if this was the result of oue eveuiug’s in terview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with tnat we have nothing to do. Hlie made herself very miserable; and at last wont down with a heavy heart; to go on with Dante, nud rummage up woids in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to bo p'oddiog on with her Italian more diligently and se dately than usual sho was planning in her own mind to go to her father as soon bh he returned (and he had said that he should not bo lute), nud beg him to un do the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and fruukiy explaining the teal state of af fairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peoce; and so at nn early hour she wished Miss Monro good night, und went up into her own room above tho drawing room, and over-looking the (lower garden aud shrubbery-path to tho stuble-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went up stairs aud studied her letter well, and tried to reeall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening—as she thought it then, not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the caudle and went aud sat on the wiudow sent, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window, paitly to cool her foreheud, purtly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. Ity aud by the door from the stable-yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in u moment she saw Mr. WilkiLH moving through the bushes, but not alone: Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rath er excited tones, immediately lost to hear ing, however,as they entered Mr. Wilkins’ study by the outer door. “They have been dining together somewhere—probably ut Mr. Hanbury's” (the Harnley brewer), thought Ellinor. “But how provoking thnt he should havo come homo with papa this night of all nights!” Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts (as cause and consequence) that on such occasions her father had been ab- ! sent from the office all day, aud that there might be necessary business for him to Irausaot, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Duuster’s visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by bis coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, relenting tho intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without considera tion, adopted her father's mode of speak ing and thinking on the subject, and was rather mqre angry than ho was whenever the obnoxious partner cume on business in the evening. This night was of all nights tho most ill-purposed time (so Ellinor thought) for a tete-a-tete with her father. However, there was no doubt in her mind as to w hat she had to do. So late as it was, the unwelcome visitor could not stop long: and then the would go down aud hove her little confidence with her father, und beg him to see Mr. Livingstono when lie came the next morning, and dismiss him as gently as I might bo. She sat on the window seat, dreaming waking dreams of future happiness. She kept losing herself iu such thoughts, and became almost afraid of forgetting why she sat there. Presently she felt cold, and got up to fetch a shawl, in which she muffled herself aud resumed her place. It seemed to her growing very late; the moonlight was coming fuller and fuller into the garden, and the blacknesu of the shadow was more concentrated and stronger. Surely Mr. Dunster could not have gone away along tbe dark shrubbe ry path so noiselessly but what sho must have heard him? No! these was the sweil of voices coming up through the wiudow from Ler father’s study; angry voices they wore: and her anger rose sympathetically, as she knew that her father was being irritated. There was a sudden movement as of chairs pushed hastily aside, and then a mysterious, un accountable noise, heavy, sudden; and then a slight movement os of chairs again; and then a profound stillness. Elli nor leaned her head against tbe side of the Window to listen more intently, for some mysterious instinot made her sick end faint. No sound—no noise. Only by and by shs beard, ybit we have all gftfA ,Boh .Mtoee of intent listening, °* «*• Ptoeee of Her heart, and then tho whirling rush of blood through her head. How long did this last ? Sho never knew. By and by she heard her father's hurried footstep in his bedroom,^next to hers; but when she run thither to speuk to him, and a*k him whut was amiss—if any thing had been— if she might como to him now about Mr. Livingstone's letter, she found that be had gone down again to his study, and almost at the same moment she heard the little privuto outer door of that room open; some one wont out, and then there were hurried footsteps along tho shrub bery path. Sho thought, of courso, thut it was Mr. Dunster leaving the bouse, and went back for Mr. Livinstone’s let ter. Having found it she passed through her father’s room to the private staircase, thinking that if she went by tho more regular way she would have run the risk of disturbing Miss Monro, and perhaps of being questioned in the morning. Even iu passing down this remote staircase she trod softly for fear of being overheard. When she entered the room the full light of the candles dazz’ed her for an instant, coming out of the darkness. They were Haring wildly iu tho draught thut c.unoin through the open door, by which the out er uir was admitted; for a moment there seemed to bo no one iu tho room; and then she saw with strange, sick horror, the legs of some ono lying on tho carpot behind the table. As if compelled, oven while she shrank from doing it, she went round to see who it was that lay there, so still and motionless as never to stir at her sudden coming. It was Mr. Dun ster; liis head popped on chair cushions, his eyes open, stariug, distended. There was a strong smell <?f brandy aud harts horn in tho room; a smoll so powerful as not to be neutralized by the free current of night air that blow threw the two open doors. Ellinor could not have told if it was ro ison or instinct that made her act as sbe did during this awful night. In thinking of it afterward, with shuddering avoidtiuce of the haunting memory that would come and overshadow her during many, mauy years of her life, she grow to believe thut the powerful smell of the spilled braudy absolutely intoxicated her —an uuconscioiis Kechabite in practice. But something gavo her a presence of mind and a courage not her own. Aud though she learned to think aftorward that tho had acted unwisely, if not wrongly and wickedly, yet she marveled, in recalling that time, how she could have then behaved as she did. First of all she lifted herself up from her fascinated gaze at the dead man aud went to the staircase door, by which she had outered the study and shut it softly. Then sho went back—looked again; took tho brau dy bottle, and knolt dowu, aud tried to pour some into the mouth; but this she found sho could not do. Theu she wet ted her handkerchief with tho spirit and moistcued the lips, all to no purpose; for as I have said before, the man was dead —killed by a rupture of a vessel of the braiu; how occasioned, I must tellby-and- by. Of course ull Ellinor’s little cares and effortafyroduced no effect; her father had tiied them before—vain endeavors all to bring back (he precious breath of life! The poor girl could not bear the look of those open eyos, and softly, ten derly, tried to close them, although un conscious that iu so doing she was ren dering the pious otficcs of soruo beloved hand to a dead man. Sho was sitting by the body on tho floor when sho heard steps coming, with rushing aud yet cau tious tread, through tho shrubbery; sho had no fear, although it might be the tread of robbers aud murderers. Tho awfultioss of tho hour rnised her above common fears; though sho did not go through the usual process of reasoning, and by it f^pl assured that the feet which were coming, so softly and swiftly along, were tho same which she had heard leav ing the room iu liko manner ouly a quar ter of uu hour beforo. Her futkor entered, and started back, almost upsetting some oue behind him by his recoil, on seeing his daughter iu her motionless attitude by tbe dead mau. “My God, Ellinor! what ban brought you here ?’ ho said, almost fiercely. But she answered, us oue stupefied: “I don’t kuow. Is he dead ?” “Hush, hush, child; it canuot be help ed.” Hke raised her eyes to the solemn, pity ing, awe-stricken lace behind her father's —the countenance of Dixon. “Is ho dead ?” sho asked of him. The mau stepped forward, respectfully pushing his master on one side as lie did so. He beut down over the corpse, and looked and listened, and thou reaching a candle off' the tuble, lie siguod Mr. Wil kins to close the door. Aud Mr. Wilkins obeyed, and looked with uti intensity of eagerness almost amounting to faiutuess on the experiment, aud yet ho could not hope. The tlume was steady—steady and pitilessly uustirred, even when it was ad justed close to mouth aud nostril; the head wus raised up by oue of Dixon's stalwurt arms, while he held the candle in the other band. Ellinor fancied that there was some trembling on Dixon’s part, und grasped bis wrist tightly in or der to give it the requisite motionless firmness. All in^vuin. The head was placed again on the cushions, the servunt rose and stood by his master, looking sadly on the dead man, whom, living, none of them had liked or cared for, aud Ellinor sat on quiet and tearless, as one in a trance. “How was it, father?” at lougth she asked. He would fain have had her ignorant of all, but so questioned by her lips, so ad jured by her eyes, in tbe very presence of death; he could nut choose but speak the truth; he spoke it iu convulsive gasps, each sentence an effort: “Ho taunted me—ho was insolent be yond my patience—I could not bear it. I struck him—I cuuU tell how it was. lie must have hit his bead in falling. Oh, my God ! one little hour ago I wus iuuo- nocent of this man's blood!” Ho cover ed his face with his hands. Ellinor took tho candlo again; kneeling behind Mr. Duuster's head, she tried the futile experiment once more. “Could not a doctor do some good?” sbe asked of Dixon, iu u low, hopeless voice. “No,” said he, shaking bis bead, and looking with a sidelong glance at his mas ter, who seemed to shrivel up and to shrink away at the bare suggestion. “Doctors can do nuugbt; I'm at eared. All that a Doctor could do, I take it, would be to opeu a vein, and thut 1 could do along with the best of them, if 1 had but my Hearn here.” He fumbled in his pockets as he spoke, and, as chance would have it, the “fleam” (or cuttle lancet) was somewhere about his dress. He drew it out, smoothed and tried it on his Huger. Ellinor tried to bare tbe arm, but turned sick as she did so. Her father started eagerly forward, and did wliat was neces sary with hurried, trembling hands. It they had cared less about tho result, they might have been more afraid of the con sequences of the operation in tho hands of one so ignorant as Dixon. But, vein or artery it signified little; no living blood gushed out; only a little watery moisture followed the cut of the ileum. They laid him back on bis strange, sad death couch. Dixon spoke next. “Master Ned,” said he—for he bad known Mr. Wilkins in bis days of bright, careless boyhood, and almost was carried baek to them by the sense of obarge and protection which the servant's presence of mind and aharpeued sense gave him over his master on this dreary night— “Master Ned, wo must do ruuimnt.” No ono spoke. Whut was to bo done? “Did any folk see him como here?” Dixon naked, ut ter a time. Ellinor looked up to hear her father’s answer, a wild hope coming in her mind that all might bo couceulcd somehow, sho did not know how, nor did she think of ntiy conse quences save of saving her father from tho vnguo druud trouble and punishment that sho was awuro would await him if all wero known. Mr. Wilkins did not seem to hear; in fact, ho did not hear auy thing but tho un spoken echo of bis own last words that went booming through liis heart: “An hour ago I was innocent of this man’s blood ! Only an hour ago !” Dixon got up and poured out half a tumbler lull of ruw spirit from the bran dy bottle that stood on the table. “Drink this, Master Ned," putting it to his master's lips. “Nay”—to Elliuor —“it will do him no barm; only bring back his senses, w hich, poor gcutleman ! are scared aw ay. Wo shall need all our wits. Now, sir, please to answer my question. Did any one see Mcuster Dun- sior cotuo here?” “I don’t know,” said Mr. Wilkins, re covering liis speech. “It all seems in a mist. He offered to walk home with me; I did not want him. I was almost rude to him to keep him off. I did not want to talk of busiuoss. I had taken too much wine to bo very clear, and some things at the office wero uot quite in or der, and ho had found it out. If any one heard our conversation they must kuow I did not want him to como with me. Oh! why would he [come ! Ho whs as obsti nate—ho would come—and hero it has been bis death !” “Wt 11, sir, what’s dono can’t bo undone nud I’m sure we’d utiy of us biiug him back to life if we could, even by cutting off our hand. 0 , though he wns n mighty plaguy chap while he’d breath iu him. But what l’ui thinking is this : it will, maybe, go awkward with you, sir, if he is found here. Ono can’t say. But don’t you think Miss, thut, ah he's neither kith nor kin to miss him, we might just bury him away beforo morning some where? There’s bottor nor four hours of dark. I wish we could put him in the church yard, but that can’t be; but to my uiiud the sooner we set about digging a place for him to lie in, poor fellow ! tho bettor it will bo for us nil in tho end. I can paro a pieco of turf up where it will never be missed, und if muster will take one spade, and I another, why wo’ll lay him softly down and cover him tip, unduo ono will bo tho wiser.” There was no reply from either for a minute or so. Thou Mr. Wilkins said: “If my father could have known of my living to this! Why, they will try mo as a criminal, aud you Ellinor ! Dixon, you are right. We must conceal it, or 1 must cut my throat, for I never could live through it* One miuuto of passion, aud my life blasted!” “Come along, sir," said Dixon; “there’s no time to lose.” Aud they went in search of tools—Ellinor following them, shiver ing all over, but begging thnt she might be with (hem, and not have to remain in the study with— She would not bo hiddon into her own room, she dr (Juried innet'ou and solitude. She made herself busy with carrying heavy baskets of turf, und straining her strength to the utmost; fetching all that was wuuted, with soft swift steps. Oucc, as she passed near tho open study door, sho thought that she hoard a rust ling, aud n Hash of hope came across her. Could he tie reviving ? She entered, but a moment wns enough to undeceive her; It had only beeu a night rustle among the trees. Of hope, life, there wns none. They dug the hole deep aud well, work ing with fierce onergy to quench thought and romorso. Once or twice her fathor asked for brandy, which Ellinor, reassur ed by tho apparent good effect of the first dose, brought to him without a word; and once, ut her father’s sugges tion, sho brought food, sncli ns sho could find in the dining loom without disturb ing the household, for Dixon. When all was ready for tho reception of the body iu its unblessed grave, Mr. Wil kins bade Elliuor go up to her room; she had done al) she could to .help them: the rest must bo done by them nlouo. She felt that it must; and indeed both her nerves and her bodily strength were giving way. She would have kissed her father as ho sat wearily at tho head of tho grave— Dixon had gone in to make some ar rangement for carrying the corpse—but be pushed her away quietly but resolute- ly: “No, Nelly, you must never kiss ine ogftiu; I am a murderer.” “But 1 will, my own durling papa,” said she, throwing her arms passionately around liis nock, and covering liis face with kisses. “I love you, and I don't care whut you are, if you wero twenty times a murderer, which you are uot; I am sure it was ouly mi accident.” “Go in, luy child, go in, aud try to got some rest. But go iu, for wo must fiuish as fast as we can. The moon is down; it will soon bo daylight. What u blessing there are no rooms on one side of tho house. Go, Nolly.” And she went; straiuing herself up to move noiselessly, with eyes averted, through the room which she shuddered ut as the place of busty and unhallowed death. Once iu her own room, she bolted tbe door on the inside, and then stole to tho window, as if somo fascination impelled her to watch all the proceedings to the eud. But her aching eyes could hardly peuetrate through the thick darkness which, at the time of tho year of which I am speaking, ho closely precedes tho dawn. She could discern the tops of the trees against tho sky, and could single out tho well known one, at. a littlo dis tance from the stem of which the gravo was made, in the very piece of turf over which so lately she and ltalpli bad their merry littlo tea-making; and where her father, as she now remembered, had shuddered aud shivered as if the ground ou which liis seat had then been placed wns fateful and ominous to him. Those below moved softly and quietly in all they they did; but every sound had a significant and terrible interpretation to Ellinor’s ears. Before they had ended the little birds bad begun to pipe out their gay reveille to the dawn. Then doors closed and all was profoudly still. Elliuor threw herself, in her clothes on the bed; and was thankful for the interne weary physical pain which took off some thing of tho anguish of thought, anguish that she fancied from time to time was leading to insanity. By-aml-by the morning cold luftdc her instinctively creep between the blankets and once there, she fell into a dead, heavy sleep. [TO UK CONTINUED. 3 —A new danger in railway traveling developed itself lately neor Hughy station, England. Tho Express train had passed Rugby a short distance when it met a Hootch express passing on tho up line. Jnst when the trains wore mooting, a pale ale bottle was thrown from the down traio, it struck the engine of tho up train, smashed both tho glasses through which the driver looks, broke tho steam gnage, aud was shivered to fragments on the tender. Both driver and stoker nar rowly escaped injury. Had they been struck the ui> express must have rushed on uncontrolled. A Noble Id re. On tho fith of May, 1871, they celebra ted ut Naucy, given up to the i'ruesinns, the obsequies of a youug girl. Tho whole town followed the modest coffin, draped in whito aud covered with flowers; fifty Frcuch soldiers hardly recovered from their wounds, formed part of the procession, walking amidst the women und children. This coffin contained tho body of Mario Edmeo Pau, a young girl little known du ring her short life, but upon whoso re mains there rests a tardy ray of glory, for she seomod to be a true representative of her proud and gentle proviuce of Lor- ruine. Her story is short but very iuter- esting. Marie Edmeo Pau was the daughter of a superior officer who returned wouuded from tho seige of Rome. Sho wus brought up by her father’s sick bed; sho rocoived his lessons and those of a tender and in telligent mother with reverence, aud sho early showed u taste for all that was great aud noble. The heroiue of hor country Jeanuo d’Arc, inspired hor with an enthusiastic love, aud she conceived the idea of ma king drawings of the history, not of the female warrior, but of the shepherdess. She visited with her mother the places that Jeaue had lived in; she saw with her ow*u eyes tho Bois Clioine, tho Meuse, the Church of Domremy, Jeanne's cottage and gurdou, the half driod up fountain where St. Michael appeared to hor. Wheu hor eyes had gazed on these sights, and hor mind lull of remem brances, sho took up her pen aud pencil; she wrote a “History of our Little Stster Jeanne d'Arc; she illustrated it with charming drawings which represented Jeuuue U’Arc iu her childhood; she drew hor tending her father's sheep, plytug her distaff by her mother's side, playiug with her companions, praying iu the fields, listening to the voicos in tho shade of tho Fairies’ tree. The book ended with Jeanne's pastoral life; wheu she handled the sword aud headed the troops, Miss Pau stopped. She had before her a promising future as an artist; sho had studied nt Paris with Monsieur Leon Goignet, and when she returned to Nancy sho oponod a class of drawiug, nud the sympathy and confi dence she inspired brought her many pupils. During her leisure time she studied bard, nud she also instructed the children of the poor. The fatal war of 1870 fell like a thun derbolt ou her quiet aud studious life. Eduiee’s only brother joined his regiment, antf was left auioug the dead utter the battlo of Woeith. Edmeo loved her brother dearly; aud although everybody told her that lie was dead, she set out to search for him, aud fouud him ut la*t iu n miner’s hut; he hud his right hand in jured aud he was wounded in the leg. Tho Prussians laid claim to him, and wanted to send him to Gormutiy, but Ed- uioo prevented them, and was ho fortu nate as to bring back tbe wounded son to his mother. It was the laHt joy she had in this world. Some time after, tho young mau, noarly well, returned to the army with the rank of captuiu, nud tho nu^iety of the mother and sister began again. Edrueo's only pleasure was attending to tbe wounded soldiers and the unfortunate prisoners; Hbo gave herself up entirely to tier work. The trains containing prison ers came constantly to Nancy. Miss Pau looked into every curriage, checking the German roughness by her geutlono.-s nud cotiruge; she distributed clothes aud pro visions to tbe half naked and starving soldiers, then, pencil in baud, she took down their names, tho addresses of their families, aud then mado them write or wrote herself, two or three liues to for ward to their friends. Who can tell how much comfort she gave by her charitable means; some times eveu, when her services were of no use nt the station, she went to the uuibu- lunccs aud drew portraits of tbo dyiug to seud to their relations. Sho hud even thu couruge to go into the dissecting room, where they had just put the corpse of a youug “fauctireur,” named Froutart; it was frightfully mutillated. Him copied his tine head, cut off a lock o. hiH hair, and sent these precious relics to his poor mother. It wns during tho month of .January, 1871; Bourbam’s army was dying on the roadside, and amidst the snows of Swit zerland; Edmee’s brother wus umongst I them, und ho had not been board of tor three weeks, liis sister set out a secoud time to look for him; she went through Switzerland, stopping ut the Siuibuluucon,' searc iug anxiously amongst the dead und dying, und finding her brother no where. At lust she heard that lie was alive and well; the news was to be relied on. She set out at once, without waiting to see her beloved brother, to return to Nancy aud carry the good news to her mother. That was her last sacrifice; worn out by' all she had gone through, she fell ill nud died. Such wns Eduiee Pan’s short life—a life of faith, devotion and noble uets; she leaves behind her au everlasting remem brance, and also a work of art which ought to be published, so thut this lovely floyor of Lorraine may arise Hide by side with tho memory of Joanne d’Arc. German Ntudeiit Lire. A correspondent speaks as follows of life iu a German Student’s Club: During the evening, two persons have had a quarrel, in the progieHs of which ono has culled tho other a b&eiyungcr. This is an insult which cannot he forgiv en, aud tho insulting party is immedi ately challenged. A judge is appointed who fills two luigo tumblers with beer, and gives one to each contestant. Tbe glas-.es are drained at a given signal to the bottom; and lie who has breath enough to ciy beerjungtr i prochi''mod victor, auiid the shouts ot ihu company. Ho has now tho right to dictate to his ri val unytliiug be chooses, and tho vuu- quisued party must obey at peril of ex pulsion from tho club. These societies are extremely popular, aud neurly all the students participate iu them. The fighting men—about one third of the students—are divided into five corps, distinguished by the color of 'their caps. Duels are restrained to these corps; and tho occasions for the wounded honor to vindicate itself are so numerous, that it is necessary to devote two afternoons a week to this barbarous custom. 'Hie government of the university is silent about these little attaint of honor, and so is considered as sanctioning tlieuu Tho duels are fought iu h beer house just across tbo Neckar. Tbe swordH are short | and very sharp ut the extreme point. Tho ! surgeon of each corps is present to stop any unnecessary flow ol blood. The | combattanls, stripped to *waists, their arms bandaged at tho eibows, that j they may iulbctno deadly wounds, strike right aud left, tip and down, with re- \ markable precision aud swiftness. Tho 1 aim of tho duelist being to mark the face : of his antagonist, the bead is the prin cipal point oHiti'ack; and at the end of one of these tights, the Horn of the room looks liko that of a successful, barber’s shop. Vengeance is not appeased Ly the first blood that is drawn, but they often' contend until one or the other is ex hausted. It is nothing uncommon to see a noble, manly fellow, with kia face ao | disfigured with ngly and ghastly wounds, [ as to render him a most repulsive sight. MClENTinv NOT UN. Moist ani» Dry Air.—A comparison of tho losses of heat by tho respiration ot an absolutely dry and absolutely satura ted air at thirty-two and oighty-six de grees Fahrenheit is highly instructive. At thirty-two degroos and dry, we lose 1,172 calorie units; at oighty-six dogroes and dry, wo loso 1,011(1 calorie units—dif- ferouue, only sovonty-six calorie units. At thirty-two degrees and saturated, we lose 1,0(10 calorio units; at eighty-six de grees and saturated, 420 calorio units— difference as much as (140 caloric units. The different states of drynesH of tho air appear thus to be of a greater moment than the difference of temperature, and this is reason why our sensations do not always coincido with the thermome ter. You readily understand how much more diftlonlt it is to manage one’s boat- household iu a hot tlmu in a cold climate. Our moans of wurmiug ourselves are bet ter thau those for carrying off our host. Therefore, the European race lias hud a hard tight tinder the equator. Tho work ing power of tho body depeuds upon a certain amotiut of consumption, by which a certain amount of heat is neces sarily croatod, which has to leavotho body in a regular way. Tho Hindoo who haH to draw tlio European's punkah boars thu heat bettor in proportion as lie takes less food atul creates less boat iu himself, but then his working power is quite propor tionate to tho total of liis consumption. Tho European's struggle iu a hot eli- mato and his dangers of a degeneracy will reutaiu as long as lie lias no bottor menus of cooling himself by some or all of tho known three routes. Houses with thick stone walls are tolerably efficacious. Those walls rarely got warmer than the average temperature of tho year. They cool tho air which comes into the house, and act ou (lie inmates iu the way we hnvo seen wheu speaking of the room which is not warmed through nud through. A good moans would be somo contrivance by which tho air iu tholiouso could be deprived of water. Ot Jit Cellars.— All the refuse of a house is stored iu itn cellar, ihorforo look to your cellars occasionally. Old boxes, bitiH and barrels, which hnvo con tained vogctable matter, mout, fish, etc., need thorough overhauling. It is not thal standing in a dark corner, they look empty; there may bo enough poison loft sticking ou the side aud bottom to affect the houlth of the household. This work of cleansing is ofteu loft to tho women and boys of the fanily. A mau hod much bettor leave hiN work n day to uiako a thorough examination aud purification of the collar, tbnii to bo tiuduly anxious about getting in his crops iu extra sousou. Aftor all gurbngo ia carried out, let tho ceiliugsand walls bo faithfully brushed with att old broom, and, if this is done once a mouth, the atmosphere will be nil the Hwooter. Uso plenty of lime, and in dry weather, keep tho doors und windows open n part of every day. Old tin and wooden ware should not bo nllow'od to stand year after year upon tho cellar hIioIvon. If it is not tit to bo usod throw it away. Spontaneous Comiiuhtiiiility op Wood Charcoal.—Tho journal of tho Gormau Chemical Society makes the following statement in regard to charcoal prepared by the destructive distillation of wood: If such charcoal, twunty-fonr hours after tho completion of the process of pmpnr- ution, is pulverized and left standing iu open vessels,there occurs a gradual clevu- uon of temporal tire, which, in about thirty-six hours, culminates in open com bustion. If tho pulverization of the coal is not uindo until uftor the lapse of three days, this phenomena does uot oc cur. Tho jcurnul adds: Many experi ments instituted in thu same direction prove that wood charcoal, for something like thirty-six hours after withdrawal from the retorts, continues to abaorb ox ygon. —An architect says ho lias boon in tbe habit for many years of bedding liis roofing hlutos in hydraulic oeiuent, in stead of having them nailed on dry in the usual way, which Ichvch them subject to be rattled by the wiud, and to be broken by any accidental pressure. The cement soon sets nud hardens, so that tho roof becomes liko a solid wall. The extra cost is ten or fifteen per cent., and ho thinks it good economy, considering only per manency and tho saving of repairs. But besides this, it aflords grout safety against fire, for slate laid in the usual way will not protect the wood underneath from tho iieat of u tiro ut a short distance. —Tlio latest and most plausible pluu brought forward for running street cars in cities without tho nid of horses iH a u foreign device, in which tho motive power used is an arrangement of power ful springs, encased in cylinders liko watch springs, of courso on a very large scale, uml the application of which to the curs now employed is said to bo oxtroine- ly simple nud easy. These springs ure wound tip hy small stationary steam en gines nt ench terminus of tho lino, and when ho wound up will propel the cars, even without stoppages, fora longer dis tance than any existing liuo of this kind xetends. The action is reversible, the application of the brake power in every respect satisfactory, and tlio working of the whole thing is pronounced a success. —Apropos of tho attempt to assassinate Piince Bismarck, u singular theory iH ad vanced to the effect that excessive heal increases homicidal tendency. In illus tration of the theory a patient professor ut Breslau has brought together instances of somo of tbe more celebrated 'cases of regicide to show that they have generally been made in the month of July. Thus, on July 12, William of Orange was assassinated by Beltliaser Gerard; July 12, 17<J4, tho same fate befell Prince Ivan VI., son of Anno of Russia; July 27, lKffi, Fiesehi fired his infernal machine against Louis Phillippe; July IK, 1KI4, Fritz Scherck, a burgomaster of KtorUov, fired two piHtol shots at the King of Prus sia, but. without touching him; July 20, IKK*, another attempt was made on the life of Louis Phillippo ; July IK/*1J, oc curred Orsini’s memorable attack on Na poleon III. ; and on July I I, 1K01, Oscar Becker fired ut King William of Prussia. This collocation of dates is certainly re markable, but it would prove inoro so, if tho statistics of the other months in the year were prepared with equal care. —You are an immortal croature; a be ing horu for eternity; a creature that will never go out of existence. Millions of ages, as numerous as tho sundH upon tho shore, and tho drops of tho ocean aud the loaves of all the forests on the globe, will not shorten tho duration of your be ing; eternity, vast eternity is before you. Every day brings you noarer to everlast ing torments or felicity. You may die any moment, nud you are ns near to heaven or hell as you are to deutb. —A Garlinvillo, 111., girl, who recover ed $10 from a young fellow for kissing her against her will, offered him the money back again a few days afterwards ‘H bo would “do it again.” -^“Ab, ladies,” said an old epicure, aa he opened a. bottle of wine, “what is more deiifthtful than the popping of a champagnefeprt“The popping of the qnoHtioD," nnaniiSP.ualy cried tbe ladies. Lawyers. JOSEPH F. POU, Attorney at Law, and Judge of County Court. Pmi-Kcwi in nil otlu«r Court*. Office over Muru of W. II. KotmrU A Co., Broad Ht. J 1 *--’ SAMUEL 1). IIATCIIEK, Attorney nt Law. Office over Wtttlcll A Iviimc!'*. J. M. McNKILL, Attorney aud Counsellor nt Law. Prnotice, in court* ot Georgia »iol Alwt>*ut*. Office IHU llroitd Ht., (over IloIMvail A Co.’*, Special attention given to collection*. jail INGRAM * CRAWFORDM, Attorney a ate Law, Will practice In the State and Federal Court* ol tloorgia. Office over Proor, Illge* a t.’o.'* .tore, north went corner Broad and Hi. Clajr Ht*. j*s A. A. HOSIER, Attorney and tenaaellar ait tew, Practice* In State and Federal Court* in Georgia and Alabama. Office 120 It road rt., Colunihu*, Ua. Jet) Minx II. HLtwnroRP. Loot* F. Oar ward. ULANDFORD to GARRARD, Attorney a and Uonniellori wt Law. Olltco No. t*7 Broad atrnet, over WUtioli A Kin- no!'* Jewelry Store. Will practice In the Stale and Federal Court*. sept Ja«. M. Husbkll. Cuas. J. Swivt. RtJMMKLL to MW1FT. Attorney* and Counsellor* at Law. Will practice "i the Court* of Georgia (Ghattalioochuo Circuit) L. T. DOWNING, Attorney and Nolleitor. U. S. Com'r and Hegintur iu Bankruptcy. Office uoviW| over llrook*' Dru^ Store, Colunihu*, On. FKAUODY to BRANNON, Attorney* nt tew. Ohio* ov«n J. Knnis A Co.’b Hrosr, Droai* St*., R. J. NONE!, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Georgia Home Insurance Company biiildiug, hoc Doctors. DR. t'OLSEY. HCU and Oificu corner or Hi. Clair ami Oglu- *1*. OUlce hour*—7 to V a. M., 12 to 2 p. M., DR. I. R. LAW. ou Forsyth, three door* below St. Clair. DR. J. A. LRtllillART, at C. J. Motfutt’* Drug Store, Broad street, •i.i'leuco on Ht. Clair, between Broad aud » Flout St*., Columbus, (la. DR. J. T. TOOK, Druggists. J. I. GRIFFIN, Imported Drugs and CTirinleala. I'rcHcrlptiou* carefully prepared. J'*IH No. lot) Broad street. JOHN L. JORDAN, Druggist, Two door* below Goo. W. Brown'*, Broad Street, Coluiuhii*, Ua. Aw* Night Hell right of Mouth door. *epft A. M. BRANNON, Wkht Sunt, llnoAb Street, Columeui, Ua., Wliolowale and Retail Dealer In Drugs and Medicines, Toilet Articles and Perfumery. H0|>» Cotton Factories. COLUMBUS MANUFACTURING CO., Man iifacturora of Hlimdliig*, Bhlrtluga, and Kewlug and Knittlug Thread. Card* Wool nud Grind* Wheat and Corn- Oftico iu roar or Wlttich A Kinaul'a, Randolph nt. Jul8 )(. II. CHILTON, President. Ml M OOF.fr: MANUFACTURING CO. Mauufaclurer* of 8IIKKTINUS, KI1IKTINGH, YARN, HOPE, Ao. COLUMBUS, GA. t). I*. SWIFT, Prosideut. VV. A. SWIFT, Secretary A Treamiror. ort.TI ly. Watchmakers. C. NCHOM ItURG, «Heal WaU'luiiHker uml Jeweler, w*ky, C. II. LEUUIN, Witleli maker. Tobacco, Cigars, &c. HAIfr R DORN. If yon want to enjoy a go el smoke, go to hi* Cigar Manufactory, Between Georgia Home Slid Mll*cOgee Home. i*8 €. LOPEZ, Dealer In and Manufacturer of Fine Cigars, JaO Near Broad Street lie pot. Barber Shops. LOU IK WELLS* SHAVING HA LOON, (Successor to If. Heiif*,) Under Georgia Home Insurance Building. Prompt und polite harbor* in attendance. ^ ED. TERRY, Harbor, rd St., under K.inkiu House, ColuiiJni*, Gn. Dross-Making. MINN M. A. IIOLLI NGN WORTH, Drev* Making, Cutting and Fitting. Teriu*clieap ItoMiduuco uml shop in llrowueville. Feed Store. JOHN FITF.G1HBONN, Wholesale and Itetuil Dealer iu Hay, Ga Btcoii, Ac., Oglethorpe Ht . oppo*i Jill Temperance Hall Confectioners. I. G. 8TUUFFEK, Candy Mauuraolurar AND DEALER IN All kind* of Confectionery and Fruits, Stick Candy 18 cent*. Full weight guaranteed In each box. 1*24 Hotels. PLANTERS' HOTKL, Nest to Columbus Bank Building, porter* at all the train*. J*14 MRS. W. F. BMIDMR, Propr’a*. Builders and Architect*. J. G. CHALMERS, House Carpenter and Rnlldar. Jobbing dono at short notloe. Plan* aud specifications tarnished for all atylsa if biiildiug* Broad Street, noxt to G. W. Brown's, Is9 Onlmabna. to, Dentists. W. F. TIGNER. Dentist, Opposite Strnpper’s building, Randolph St. Special attention given to the Insertion of Arti ficial Tooth, as well as to Oporativo Dentistry. Ieb22 dew T. W. HENTZ, " Dentist* Over Joseph A Brother's sjore. Jslt W. T. FOOL, Dentist, tiov23] 101 Broad St., Oolumbns, Gs. W. J. FOGLE, ~~ Dentist, ■rpftl Georgia Home Building, Oolnubss, Os, Boots and 8hoes, WELLS * CURTIS, No. 78 Brosd Strsst, Hare always s tall stock of Hoots snd Shoes, Upper, Sols sad Har ness Leather and Findings of sll kinds. Reliable goods! Reasonable priossI N. B.—Special attention to orders by ■sprsss, 0.0.1). Livery and Sale Stabtos. ROBERT THOMPSON, Livery, Bale and Exchange Stables, OoLRTuoari, North or Ransolm Bts m octfiO Columbus, Gs. A. GAMMEL, Livery and Bala Btables, OULKTIIORFE ST., COLOSSUS, GA. Particular attoutiou given to Fooding ssd Sale of Kiock. Ilorsea and Mule* l>ourdo% iu stables by tho ninth or day. ootSB Restaurants. ■IAKHIM COUNTY RESTAURANT, No. Ill Broad BtreeL 1 The licet of Foreign and Domestia Liquors and Cigar*. Meals at all hours. J. J. HLAKHLY, Prup'r. ducli) Fresh Meats. J. W. PATRICK, HI nils No. 8 snd 18, Market House. Fre*h Meat* of every kind aud best quality, J. T. COOK, Freels Meats af All Kinds, j Stall* Nos, lfi snd 17. Gun and Locksmiths. PHILIP EIFLER, and Locknwi tIi, Crawford atreet, nest t* Johnson's corner, Columbus, Gs. Js6 WILLIAM SCIIOBERi TT and Lockamltlt aud denier in Gunning Ma terial*. Opposite Enquirer Grace. Plano Tuning, ito. E. W. BLAU, Repairer and Tuner of Piauoos, Organs and Acoordeous. Bign Painting also dons. Order* may be bo luft at J. W. Peons A Norman's Book Htoro. sept Grocers. DAN'L R. BIKE, Dealer Iu Family Groceries, on Bryan street, bo- tweeu Oglethorpe A Jack*«u streets. (UP No charge for dmyago. deo7 J. II. HAMILTON^ Wholesale and Retail Grocer, 1BHAM COOPER, Family Grocer and Dealer iu Country Prodnoe, eepft uexl to "Ktiquirer" Olliee. Tailors. G. A. KCEHNE, Merchant Tailor and Cotter. A full stock of French and English Broadcloth*, Ca**imer<-* and Vestings, sprlfl No. DU Brosd Street. HENRY 8ELLMAN. Cutting, Cleaning and Repairing Done in the bust *ty!e. apr24J r Crawford snd Front Its. Boot and Shoemakers WM. MEYER, Boot nud Hhoemaker. Dealer iu Lout her und Findings. Next to C. A. llutlil A Co.’*. Prompt aud strict attention given to orders. jell Tin and Coppersmiths. WM. FEE, Worker In Tin, Mheet Iren, (topper. Orders from abroad promptly attended to. J*7 No. 174. H road HI rest. Painters. WM. SNOW, JR., to CO. # House aud Hign Painters, Did Oglethorpe corner, (Just north of poetoflea) ColuiubiiH, Georgia. Will contract for Houho and Hign Painting at 'MiiNoiiabla price*, and guarantee Hull* fad ion. » Win. Hiii LAWYERS. W. F. William*. C'hah. 11. Williams. WILLIAMS & WILLIAMS, Attorneys at Law, UOI.UMHUH, UA. 88- Office over Aboil’* *tore. Jyl7 3m W. A. Farley, A.ttorxLoy«At"ZitoW CUSSETA, OHATTAHOOOBSB Oo„ GU. (^-.Special attention given to oollsotiont. DOCTORS. _ Dr. J. H. CARBIGER, SURGEON AND PHYSICIAN. O FFICE up stairs S.E. cor of Broad k Ran dolph Street*, whore he mty be found day - night wheu not profusion ally eugsged. Columbus, April 24, 1874. dtf HINES DOZIER. A ttorney nt Law, HAMILTON, GA., yy ILL practice In tho Chat t a hooches it 0lrc»*>* MILLINERY. SPRING MILLINERY. w * ;*n!iFtoFiwiiusaRSS i ludlng.il th. NOVKI.l'IU-r U»«ku. PRIiHBlNG AND II1.HACI1IIM I. Ik. I.Mt >1,1*. .t Ik. ihurlo.l nolle*. N.il odor t»low Ik. N«« York atop.