OCR Interpretation


The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, June 22, 1898, Image 8

Image and text provided by University of South Carolina; Columbia, SC

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84026965/1898-06-22/ed-1/seq-8/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for 7

THE WAY IT GOES.
Wheo Tom and Bill -were baby boya,
Infant Bill
Was fretful, squally, full of noise
Homely Bill
Redheaded, and it was a fact
From morn till night his parents racked
To keep his neck from being cracked
Troublesome BUL
As he grew older folks would say
Lazy Bill,
But naught he'd care; lt was his way
Shiftless BUL
? He'd spend his time in idle joys
And put his jobs on other boys,
Poer fools that foUowed his decoys
Scheming BUI.
? And when the boys to college went
Foolish BUI
To grinding work no interest lent
Hopeless Bill
While Tom was quick and apt to learn
And said bright things at every turn
That made the slow with envy burn
Sluggish BUL
School life was done, with aU its joys
Thankful B?1
And business life claimed both the boys
i , A chance for Bill.
Tom made a noise-a stir, you know
{ But somehow it ne'er seemed to go.
While close mouthed Bill raked in thc
dough
Knowing BUL
j The years have come and gone away
For Tom and BUL
Tom keeps a set of books each day.
And BUI
Bas office hours from ten tUl twa
Be's looking for new worlds to da
i He owns a block, a bank or two
Incomprehensible BiU.
-Al dunlap in Chicago Inter Ocean.
THE UNDERSTUDY.
Well, gentlemen (the great trage
.dian's voice shook a little as he put
-down bis glass in the silence), yon
little know perhaps what a string
yon touched upon when you coupled
my name with that of the great
. ?lead and gone actor, Franklin Hyde.
If 1 closed my eyes for a moment, I
could easily believe that this was all
a dream. When I think of the
strange and unexpected incident
.that sent me np the golden ladder
.at a bound and of the man-well,
there, gentlemen, 1 suppose few of
you would credit that one night,
only 15 years ago, 1 was upon the
verge of suicide.
It was about as black as it could
be-partly, 1 own, because my am
bition stood in my way. But when
a man has studied and dreamed of a
telling part in Drury Lane autumn
.drama bis soul not unnaturally
.sickens at the thought of reverting
to minor roles in second rate tour
ing companies. That was it I had
been promised the part of Julian
. Armstrong in that immortal piece,
"Exiled," and then, when it came
to rehearsal, it turned out that by
?some strange mistake the part bad
already been allocated to another
man. That man was Franklin Hyde,
and I am not sure that 1 did not
hate him on the spot True, I re
ceived a check as a set off, but it
seemed that my life chance had
?been snatched away, and my debts
had mounted up again before I set
to work to shake off the stupor of
that disappointment And then I
lound that 1 had let many other
finances slip.
Somehow-many of you who saw
it played and recollect the great
possibilities it gave will understand
why-that part of Julian Armstrong
had put a spell over ma 1 got in
at a rehearsal. Standing by, sick
with jealousy and longing, I watch
ed Hyde's conception, and, great as
" it was, I believed my own was
greater, and a forlorn hope took
possession of ma I determined to
"understudy" him. Who knew!
The drama was down to run until
December. Might not some chance
com em the interval? I felt-I knew
-that 1 could play that part to the
Jifa When, swallowing my pride,
I spoke to Hyde of it, he laughed of
course.
"Waste of time and talent, I'm
afraid. Mr. Lorrimer. Still 1 would
not check ambition. If anything
unforeseen should occur, and you
are still anxious-well, we might
think of you."
And for weeks I was crazy enough
to go dreaming of that great possi
bility. I studied the part until I
seemed to be living a dual existence.
1 would wake up in the night and
shoat out my lines. I would go to
the theater just to watch him and
sit filled with a hunger of longing
that 1 could never pat into words.
1 would wait hours outside just to
see him step into his carriage, for
"Exiled" had taken the town by
storm, and he had a reputation now
to live up to. !
And here-here was mid-Novem- J
ber, and my young wife and I liv
ing-no, starving-on dreams. We
sat there in the dingy room that
night, and perhaps there was some
thing in my face, in my laugh, that
told her what had been in my mind,
for she did a thing she had not done
all through that black time-came
suddenly behind me to put her arm
round my neck and burst into a pas
sion of sobs-sobs that would have
frightened me at another time.
"Wilfred-don't! I'll work-IH
do anything, but don't look sol
Wilfred, it's no use-they will never
send to you to play Julian, and you
know it Put it oat of your mind
and think ot something elsa Yes,
I know-1 know what you could do
S4 what it might mean for us in
e future, ont the people go now
lo see feaqfelin Hyde, not Julian
alona Oh, if he knew! I don't
Wish it, nor do you, but if-if"
She stopped short there, as with a
sudden instinct.. "Wilfred!" she
breathed.
Why ? Well, queer ideas had been
flitting in and out of my overtaxed
brain that night I know 1 got to
my feet and held Maggie away by
the arm and stood staring past her.
"Aye," I whispered, "to think
that there's only the one 'if in the
way ! I'm not-I mean nothing. But
suppose a little som exiling nappe
ed to him one of these last nights
suppose he slipped or his horse to
fright! Suppose"
Perhaps I had taken a step unco
sciously, I don't know, but Magg
gave a little cry and a rush ai
stood there against the door, whi
and trembling.
"Stand still!" I recollect h
whispering. "You are mad-y<
will not go out again tonigl
There, there, now you are calm?
Why, Wilfred, whatever were y<
thinking off"
That night I did not close n
eyes. I lay staring up at the ceilin
Did I hate him? No, no! But th
dreadful thought had come into n
head, and it would not go. To thii
that, should the little accident ha
pen, I might be able to take h
place, if only for the oncel Tl
onoel It made my poor brain ree
I felt I must get up and rush awi
from it or something would ha
pen. I could see the blazing fcc
lights and the blurred row upon ro
of pale faces, hear the shouts, fe
myself drunk with the triumph, i
great the play had proved. Y(
see, so long I had dwelt on tl
thought I could not realize it wi
not a possible reality. And Magg
-in her sleep she seemed to knov
Several times 1 heard her sob.
All that next day, too, she hung t
me like my own shadow. The leai
movement on my part seemed 1
frighten her. But I did not reali:
that day's doings till afterward. E
lived at Hampstead, in a big, lone!
house. I had been to look at i
There was a gravel sweep from tl
door between two rows of tall eve:
greens down to the gate. Healwaj
stepped into his brougham, the
said, at about a quarter to 7. Su]
posing that this very evening a ma
ran out from between the eve:
> greens-a man with a knife or som?
thing! Who would be able to pla
Julian then?
I dared not look into Maggie
eyes. 1 knew vaguely, although
tried to disbelieve it, that 1 onl
waited for her toTtutr hpr back on
moment I was mad. Four o'ciou
came-5 o'clock. It had grown da st
She had been sewing while 1 lay o
the couch.
Presently she put aside her worl
tiptoed across and looked down a
me. My eyes were closed, but
knew-I breathed hard.
"He's asleep,"! heard her whis
per. "Thank heaven!" and sh
crept out of the room.
Was it to be? It seemed so. I re
member that 1 sat up, both hand
to my head, afraid of myself. Nex
minute, holding my breath, 1 hat
taken my hat and slipped out of th
house. To do what? i did not know
Afterward it all seemed like i
dream. "Hampstead!" A han?
seemed drawing me on, and that ont
word beat in and out of my brain
I must have obeyed both withou
attempting to realize. Hampstead
wai; two miles away, but just befon
the clock struck 6 I found mysel:
standing outside Franklin Hyde'i
house.
His house! All silent, but sooi
his carriage would drive out to car
ry him to the scene of his nightly
triumph. Measured steps-a police
man coming. Hot all over, I crouch
ed baok among those evergreens.
What was I doing? God knows. 1
tried to drag myself away from thc
fascination, but suddenly a lighl
shot out from a window on the left
Ah, there was a balcony running
along that wall of the house, and o
shadow kept wavering across the
patch ot light Never pausing tc
think, I went up the steps, tiptoed
along and was peering between
some ivy boughs into the room.
The shadow
It was Hyde himself-and alone.
A billiard table ran the length of
the room, and he was leaning over
the far end, his cue tip feeling the
way for some stroke. Ah, that was
a minute! As if it were only yester
day, 1 can see that picture now-the
green baize, the pointed stick and
Hyde'B impassive face craned for
ward, his wide eyes unconsciously
staring straight toward me. Spell
bound, without knowing why, 1
hung breathlessly on the stroke of
his cue-and it never cama
He turned suddenly half round,
then straightened up. The door be
hind him had opened, and a servant
was saying something. Next mo
ment a woman was standing in the
doorway, one hand put out as if she
were frightened. Sho pulled the
door to, took one step, and then lift
ed her veil. My heart gave one
never forgotten jump. It was-it
was my wife!
*'Oh, forgive my coming !" I heard
her say faintly. She had a hand to
her breast "I-I was afraid some
thing might-I-my husband"
She broke oif there a Dd stood star
ing at him, as if afraid for what she
might have done.
"Your husband?" Hyde repeated
slowly. "You will pardon me, but
I really don't understand."
"No,"8he began. Even at such
a moment my heart went out to her
-she looked so white and implor
ing. I could see it all-what she
had feared, why she had come. I
felt a mad longing to crash through
that window and confront him, but
mastered myself by a great effort.
She had taken another step and put
a hand on his arm. "Oh, don't ask
me what or why," I juBt caught.
"I thought perhaps-nothing, noth
ing! Only be careful of yourself,
sir, going to and from the theater f '
That was it I saw him start and
look slowly round.
"What do you mean?" he said,
looking down into her poor eyes
"Careful of myself? Your husband,
I vou said. Do I know him ? Yes, J
I
insist. You come here-w?at <
you fear? What is his uame?"
"Lorrimer!' she must have \vb
pered.
"Lorrimer-ah I" I slmll not ft
get soon the way he turfed roui
his finger to his lips, as ilf intense
struck. "Why, that's the man'
he turned back to her-^'and y
thought he was-here! Vvjhy"
He was interrupted by ? choki
gasp. She had seen me-Lseen r
face pressing close against' the gk
-and stood with dilated ey?
There was no time tytm, or ev
to realize. The windop was thra\
up, and Hyde had me-yes, by t
throat Into the light hedragg
me like a thief, h,ad his stare, a:
then his grip relaxed.
"Ohl" he breathed, with half
sneer. "So this is how you und?
study me, is it ? You-what we
you doing there i Shall 1 send f
the police?" )
I neither speke nor moved,
could not. He stepped back. I su
pose that the turn of my whole Iii
for better or worse, hung in tl
balance at that moment, and it w
Maggie who turned the scale. H
woman's quickness saved me f
this moment There were two or.
stretched arms between him ai
that door. Maggie!
"Oh, Mr. Hyde, if you knew bi
the half, you would weep for him
She said thak, and he, whtf had see
so many women play a part to hir
seemed held to listen in spite ?
himself "Think 1 he was to hai
played tho part It seemed that h
ambition was to be suddenly crow;
ed-he believed he could idealize i
And then all his hopes to be crushe
in a moment 1 Yes, think! Go bac
to your own struggling days; stat
where he stands now. Night ai
day he has been tortured by tl
thought of what he might be toda
-by the foolish hope that he mig!
be able to take your place foroi
night. Oh, nc, it was not profe
sional spite. It was only a huma
longing to do himself justice,
that is not to be, at least you wi
iet him go as he came, and 1 wi
answer for the rest. One day-or
day my husband will succeed,
know it-and then he will than
you!"
And Hyde, stupefied, looked froi
one to the other of us, hesitated an
closed his eyes as if to shut out tt
sight of her close, imploring f aa
Then, drawing a breath, he turne
to me, without the sneer, but ii
credulously.
"And so you think that you cou!
play Julian-such a Julian, I meai
as would stir that crowd hurryin
west at this moment?"
"Try him 1" she put in in a thril
ing whisper. Unconsciously sh
had said the cleverest thing sh
could have done, if only because i
spurred his curiosity.
"Quick 1" he said suddenly, glanc
ing at his watch. "1 have barel;
half an hour For the moment yo
shall be Julian, with an audience o
two. Now, without a pause, th
lines at the mine. Enter Sabrofl
cracking his whip: 'His wife! I
he mad? Tell him sentiment dies ;
natural death here in Siberia 1' "
As if it had been a challenge-a
if my personality had been tr?ne
formed while the words were on hi
lips-I took him up. It was the tell
ing speech of the play-the part ii
which Hyde obtained his greates
triumph night by night
How 1 delivered it 1 cannot say
I only know that my whole sou
seemed to go out in the words, ane
that when 1 had finished my wifi
stood there like a statue, and Hyde'i
own lips were parted. There was i
queer silence in the room for wha
seemed minutes. Then-then I look
ed and saw his hand put out.
"Mr. Lorrimer," he said, "I take
back that word. You have not un
derstudied me-you have created
your own conception. "
He stood awhile, his hand to his
forehead. Then he sat down, torc
a slip of paper from his notebook
and wrote something off impetu
ously.
"There," he said, "I'm not going
to ask why you came here-I know.
And I'm doing something for you
that not many men would do in the
circumstances. Take that note to
my dresser and play Julian. It's
quite right, Mr. Lorrimer, or will
be, I hope. You want your chanoe.
You shall have it. 1 am indisposed
for this one night. You-it lies in
your hands te? give the public their
money's worth. Take my brougham
and be off, and I'll telegraph to the
manager. You will find all you re
quire in my room there, and, one
word, if ever you kept your head,
keep it now."
I knew that my wife had kissed
me, and that a few minutes later I
was being rattled along the streets,
but that was about all. It was not
j until the very moment when I step
ped on to that stage as Julian that
I made the effort of my life and re
alized fully how ruy destiny as an
actor was in my own bands. And
then-well, I need say no more.
Some of you here will recollect that
night and know better than I what
it was that made my audience rise
at me, and why 1 have never looked
back. As l'or mo, the one thing I
remember clearly is that as 1 left
the theater Kike one in a dream a
man gripped my hand and said
something that I shall never forget.
That man was Franklin Hyde.
Gentlemen, here's to his memory
God bless him !-London Tit-Bits.
- A French Canadian widow in
Montreal, aged (>F>, is the mother of
26 children. The eldest is 42 years of
age, and she has just had him arrested
for abusing her.
THINE EYES.
Thine eyes still draw my soul unto thino own.
Although our hands have strangors grown
And lips have never dearer known.
Thine eyes all other loves dethrone,
Thine eyes with passion flowers sown.
All that tho tyranny of life denies
Heartbroken vows, unvoiced replies,
Visions that swift forbidden rise
Live in the nearness of thino eyes.
Thine eyes too tender to be wisel
-Harper's Bazar.
SACRIFICE.
After mass the priest Legrand re
turned to the vestry room. The
dull light of a November sky glim
mered through the panes of the only
window. Out of the obscurity there
arose a woman, a pitiful object,
with her little kerchief knotted be
neath her chin, her face bathed in
tears. She threw herself at the feet
of the priest, crying out, "They are
going to shoot him!"
"Shoot himl Who?" asked the
priest
"The Prussians-my husband!'
and a sob choked the unfortunate
creature. Very much affected, the
priest quickly set down his chalice
on a table and, taking the hands of
the poor woman in his own, made
her stand up.
"But how-your husband?"
"Yes; on account of the uhlans
that were killed yesterday by the
sharpshooters. The Prussians have
had lots drawn this morning, and
three men are to be shot-Vincent
Laideur and my husband. Save him,
reverend sir!"
"But I can do nothing, " replied
the priest, with a discouraging ges
ture, and then, his bowed head rest
ing on his hands, he began to reflect.
The thought of the misfortune that
was about to befall his parishioners
and his own inability to avert it
grieved him deeply. Not to be able
to help them, his flock-for whom
he spent himself unceasingly, de
voted even to sacrifice. Should he
allow her to depart thus, this weep
ing woman who had oome to ask
him for her husband? "I must save
him at any price, " he said to him
self, and, turning to the woman,
"Take courage," he said, "and
hope."
Hastily he took off his priestly
ornaments and directed his steps to
the mayor's residence, where was
installed the captain commanding a
platoon of uhlans sent as an ad
vance guard. The naturally pale
face of the priest grew paler and
paleras the road shortened. The
idea of this formidable interview
made him quiver with excitement,
but his excitement banished his
timidity. He was conducted into the
council room. Seated at a table, the
captain was signing some papers
He looked the priest full in the
face, and, in order to anticipate a
request that he dreaded, said in
French, in an abrupt manner:
"What do you want, sir?"
"I have come to ask-pardon for
the people of this village. They are
innocent, " stammered out the priest.
"Warnas terrible necessities,"re
plied the captain. "Your sharp
shooters kill a number of our men
everyday. We must have done with
them. So much the worse for the
villages that harbor them. "
The priest tried to argue the mat
ter, but all his reasons were shat
tered against the pitiless logic of
the German officer. At length, con
vinced of his inability, he tried only
to save one of his prisoners.
"Grant me at least the pardon of
Leroy. He has three little chil
dren."
The captain showed some sign of
pity, but, pointing to the table on
which his papers lay, he said: "The
orders are explicit I would be un
true to my duty as a soldier. You
ought to understand me, sir, you
who are a priest. Three of our
uhlans have been killed. We must
have three victims. "
Nothing was left for the priest to
do but to depart. However, he did
not stir. After a somewhat pro
tracted silence the oaptain raised
his head from the papers with which
he was busy and snapped his fin
gers with a gesture of impatience.
Suddenly the priest advanced, and,
as if almost ashamed, he murmured:
"I have neither wife nor children.
Will you accept me?"
The officer fixed his eyes upon the
priest with a look of sympathy
After a moment's silence he said:
"This is a serious thing that you
ask of me. You aro young yet.
Think of it well."
"I beg you to grant it," said the
priest.
Without replying, the captnin be
gan to write. Then he arose and,
holding out a sheet of paper, said,
"Here is the order to set the man
Leroy at liberty and put you in his
place. " And in a grave tone he add
ed, ."Reverend sir, will you do me
the great honor to give me your
land?"
The priest extended' his hand and
heartily clasped the hand of the
German officer.
With a light step, so happy at the
thought of his sacrifice that, regard
less of his dignity, he was disposed
to run, the priest rapidly reached
the schoolhouse where the condemn
ed men were imprisoned. The com
mander of the guard, a uhlan effi
cer, trailed his saber before the door
with a great clank. Without deign
ing to answer the salute of the
priest, he took roughly the sheet of
paper, but, after reading it over,
tho harsh expression of his face
grew softer. He drew himself up
to his full height and, raising his
hand to his shako, he said respect
fully:
"Will you please enter, sir?"
At the door of the sohooiroom the
nriest begged'the officer to summon
Leroy, wiio, ovcrwtielme? wi
grief, seized the hands of the prie
murmuring:
"My wife 1 My poor little ones
"Courage, my friend," said t
priest. "Do not lose hope. "
With tact he told his parishion
that he was pardoned on account
his family. The man began to lau?
and dance, almost beside himse
He wanted to run home immediai
ly, but the priest succeeded in cali
ing him, and at length they both s
out on the road to his house. Ne
a gate the priest said :
"Remain here. I am going to i
form your wife."
She, surrounded by her childre
whose merry voices were now hus
ed, was sadly working in her hui
ble cottage, but the beaming face
the priest as he approached a
nounced the joyful news.
. "He is free!"
Without replying, the prie
smiled.
"1 want to see him I" she exclaii
ed.
"He is coming." And husbai
and wife were in each other's arr
in silent joy.
"We have not thanked you," sa
the man at last.
The priest, very much moved, r
plied, "Your happiness is my r
ward. " He clasped the hands of tl
husband and wife, kissed the chi
dren and hastened to return to t!
schoolhouse. In a corner of tl
schoolroom the forest keeper, Ls
deur, a veteran of the Italian ai
Crimean campaigns, gloomy, h
arms crossed, stoically smoked h
pipe. Near him Vincent, a your
man about 18 years of age, his hea
resting on his hands, seemed 1
sleep
The priest sat down between tl
two prisoners His exhortations an
his encouragements made the youri
man sob. Laideur swore The prie:
took each by the arm, and, knowin
that no one would communical
with them, he said to them :
"We must stand together by an
by. You, Laideur, must set us a
example, an old soldier like you."
"You are going to be with us?
asked the forest keeper.
. "Yes, indeed, instead of Leroj
you understand. He has a wife an
children. "
Carried away with enthusiast!
Laideur exolaimed : .
"You are indeed a hero! Surel;
we will stand by each other! If
could only have killed a few mor
of those cock sparrows-but m;
rheumatism!"
With a smile, the priest oalmei
the excitement of the worthy fellow
and then, turning to Vinoent, askei
if he wished to confess. The younj
man consented. "And you, Lai
deur?" he asked.
"Oh, as to me, you know I am no
pious!"
"Do it for my sake."
"Well, now, would that give yoi
pleasure?"
"Muon pleasure, my friend. "
"Very well, then, " said the forest
keeper, pulling up his sleeves as il
about to unload a heavy burden.
On his return to his vestry-foi
he had obtained permission to re
main free in order to make his final
arrangements-the priest asked thc
sexton to summon the inhabitants
of the village to meet him at thc
church at 3 o'clock.
According to habit, after hie
breakfast betook some bits of bread
and sugar and went into the inclo
sure in front of his house. On
catching sight of him his donkey
stopped feeding and advanced to
ward him. The priest put his arms
around her neck, and with the palm
of his hand stroked her velvety nos
trils, repeating: 'My good beast I
My good beast!"
His tenderness was extended to
all the animals, companions of his
solitude, and these, rendered gentle
by his great kindness, offered them
selves to his caresses. Meantime the
donkey had freed her head and
walked around her master, snuffing
the air and then began to bray.
"Greedy one, is that tthat you
want?" said the priest, drawing out
from his cassock a piece of bread.
Sounds of clucking and flapping
of wings now claimed his attention.
He stooped, and cooks and hens
came to peck from his hands. His
rabbits were not forgotten either.
While giving them some bran he
slowly passed his hand through the
fur of their rounded backs. As his
donkey had followed him, he hand
ed her a bit of sugar, and the beast
began to munch it, shaking her ears
with visible satisfaction. Her round
and gentle eyes seemed to regard
her master tenderly The priest felt
a cold chill pass through his frame,
and, with bowed head, bis hands be
hind his back, ho went into his gar
den.
In the midst of the squares of
earth glittered the clean gTavel
walks. The leafless pear trees
stretched their arms, covered with
straw, in parallel lines along the
walL The priest fastened up a loos
ened branch with a bit of osier and
dreamily continued his walk in the
bright sunshine along the garden
wall. Pausing at length, he opened a
little doer looking out on the fields.
Silent, bcthed in light and mois
ture, the plain stretched far away.
In places stacks of wheat, rounded
like dovecots or similar to little
houses, formed hamlets of straw.
To the left a forest of beech trees
joined the pine wood, which barred
the horizon. For a long time the
priest fixed his eyes on this familiar
landsoape, as if to imprint it upon
them. Then he closed the door, but
his look, passing above the walls,
stopped at the church clock. Thc
short hand was between tho figurer
and 2 ; the other had passed over
he half of the dial plate.
"In three hours I will be dead,"
hought he, and instinctively he
rossed his arms over his breast, as
f to protect it against the bullets.
Fhree hours longer and he would
ie nothing more than a lifeless
?ody, nailed up in his coffin. In bin
?orbid imagination he seemed to
lear the dull thud of the first spade
luls of earth upon the wood.
To die thus in full health, in the
dgor of lifel Was this possible?
?ow many simple pleasures in his
lappy life, without desires and with
lut ambitions; the duties of his
jriesthood, the alleviation of the
)oor and suffering, the intercourse
vith his brethren, the care of his
mimais and of his garden I Ah, why
lad he committed this folly of off er
ng himself as a sacrifice ? Distracted
vith anguish, he sprang with a
)Ound to the gate and opened lt ab
ruptly. His look followed the grassy
)ath that led from the foot of the
vail and, winding between the
flowed fields, joined the road. In
hought he hastened along this road,
md dashed through the forest into
veli known paths. Yonder, some
niles away, was a railway station.
The priest bent his head forward
n anxious gaze. The plain was de
serted as far as the horizon. No one
tvould see him flee. He would reach
the station, take the train and go far,
far away-would be free, would
live, would livel
Maddened, he was about to rush
forward, bareheaded, but his word
af honor-but Leroy 1
With a sob, he closed the gate,
and, kneeling, he called to his aid,
with all the strength of his faith,
that Saviour who at the approach
of death had experienced in the
garden on the Mount of Olives all
its terrors, all its agonies-dying,
as it were, in advance. He besought
him to aid him to the end and re
store to him his fortitude; then,
with renewed strength and recog
nizing that solitude and reverie in
iuced weakness, he hastened back
to his house. His accounts made out
exactly, his little property classified
and valued, he made his will, leav
ing small sums to the most needy of
his parishioners and little souvenirs
to others. Finally he bequeathed
his donkey to a wealthy family,
with the request that they would
never sell her, and thus spare her
from spending her last days in mis
ery, dragging along the roads the
cart of some peddler. 5.
Having completed these arrange
ments, he passed a long time in fer
vid prayer, asking pardon for his
faults and relying wholly on the
mercy and justice of God.
As the clock struck 3 the priest
descended the stairway of his house
and proceeded to the church.
This was as full ns on days of
high festival. In the presence of the
misfortune that was about to fall
upon the village even the most
thoughtless had come to assemble
about the man who represented the
highest moral authority. In his sur
plice the priest passed through the
crowd of worshipers, and, ascend
ing the pulpit steps, after a few mo
ments of meditation he said: "My
brethren, I am very glad to see you
united here in such great numbers.
The authorities have been pleased
to grant me the pardon of Leroy,
but 1 have not been able to obtain
that of Laideur and Vincent. 1 have
seen them and comforted them.
They are ready to die as Frenchmen
and as Christians. "
Without fine phrases, but with
perfect simplicity, he spoke of duty,
self sacrifice and love of country.
His words sent a thrill through his
assembly, whose ideal was ordinari
ly confined to material interests.
Turning toward the altar, he in
toned in a firm voice the *De Pro
f undia " Then he gave his blessing
to the congregation, praying for pa
Hence and resignation and request
ing each one to return to his home
and there remain. Leaving the
church, he was seen to direct his
steps to the schoolhouse.
The next morning the inhabitants
of the village learned that their
priest had been shot by the Prus
sians.-From the French For Short
Stories.
A Stony Fair.
The following "stony" wedding
announcement appears in an east
Tennessee exchange: "Married at
Flintstone, by Rev. Windstone, Mr.
Nehemiah Whitestone and Miss Wil
helmina Sandstone, both of Lime
stone." This is getting mighty
"rocky," and there's bound to be a
"blasting" of these "stony" hearts
before many "pebbles" appear on
the connubial beach. The grind
stone of domestio infelicity will
sharpen the ax of jealousy and dis
cord, and sooner or later one or the
othepof the pair will rest beneath
a tombstone. Then look out for the
brimstone.-Lexington Argonaut
To th? Point.
"It's utterly absurd," exclaimed
King Cheops, rising to put an end to
the argument "to say there 'is al
ways room at the top. ' I'll show
you there is not!"
And he went out and built the
great pyramid.-Chicago Tribune.
CASTOR IA
For Infants and Children.
The Kind You Have Always Bought
Bears the
Signature of
- With the exception of Brazil,
Spanish is the prevailing language of
every country in South America.
Once Tried, Always Used.
If we sell one bottle of Chamber
lain's Cough Remedy, we seldom fail
lo sell the same person more, when it
is again needed. Indeed, it has be
come the family medicine of this
town, for coughs and colds, and we
recommend it because of its establish
ed merits-Jos. E. HARMED, Prop.
Oakland Pharmacy, Oakland, Md.
Sold by Hill-Orr Drug Co.
- A lady tells that when she was
a poor little girl, living in the country,
she used to "plant corn in her bare
Feet. ' ' This imparts a new idea of the
origin of those troublesome things
growing on our toes.
Ladies Who Suffer
From any complaint peculiar to
their sex-such as Profuse, Pain
ful, Suppressed or Irregular Men
struation, are soon restored to
health by
Bradfield's Female Regulator.
It is a combination of remedial
agents which) have been used with
the greatest success for rnore than
25 years, arjd Known to act speci
fically with and on the organs of
Menstruation, and
recommended for
such complaints
only. It oe ver fails
to give relief arjd
restore the health
of the suffering
woman, lt should
be taker.) by the
girl just budding
irjto womanhood
wheo Menstrua
! tion is Scant, Sup
pressed, Irregular
or Painful, and
all delicate womer; should use it,
as its toole properties bave a won
derful Influence io toning up and
strengthening the system by driv
ing through toe proper channels
all impurities.
"A daughter of one of my ea? tornera in towri
menstruation from exposure and cold, and on
arriving at puberty her health was completely
wireoked, until she was twenty-four yean of
age, viten upon my recommendation, ghe-naed
one bottle ofBradneld'a Female Reculator, com
pletely restoring her to health."
J. W. UXLLVHB, Water Valley, Miss.
THE BRADMCLD RCOULATOR CO., ATLANTA, QA.
.OTO BT. A IX DRUGGISTS AT SI PUB BOTTLK.
if ehildren
Are geoerally Peny. Stomach aptet,
Bowel? oat of order-do eot rest
well at eight. The very beet remedy
for childreo while teething ?a
PITTS'
CARMINATIVE.
rt caree Dierrboee, regeletee the
Stomach ?ad Bowel*, earea Wlee
Cede, eefteM the Seme, caree Chot
era hfeetam, Caetera Merke*. Crie
iea, ead ecta ?romptly. rt Io goed
fer odetta, tee, eec le e aeedfic 1er
vomiting eerief ptaeeaacy.
Sold by all Druggists, 25 and 50c
CHARLESTON ANO WESTERN
CAROLINA RAILWAY
AUGUSTA A NU ASHEVILLE 8HOBT LUCE
In effect JuneJlS, 1898.
Lv Augusta...
Ar Greenwood...
ir Anderson..........
Ar Laurens.
Ar Greenville.
Ar Glenn "pringa-..
Ar Spartanburg~....,
Ar Salada..
Ar Hendersonville.
Ar Asheville.,
915 am
1150 am
12 50 pm
215 pm
4 05 pm
2 80 pm
4 25 pm
4 69 pm
6 52 pm
ISO pm
6 io pm
7 00 aa
1015 am
10'?'??i
Lv Asheville.
Lv - partan DU rg....
Lv Glenn Springs.
Lv Greenville.
Lv Laurens.
Lv Anderson.
Lv Greenwood...
Ar Augusta.
Lv Calhoun Falls..
\r Raleigh.
Ar Norfolk.
Ar Petersburg.....
?r Richmond.
8 28 am
1135 am
10 00 am
11 50 am
1 20 pm
3 05 pm
4 00 pm
8 &0 pm
....... 630 am
2 85 pm i..\....r
4 55 pm 10 50 am
4 44 pm
216am
7 80 ?4
6 00 aid
8 15 am
Lv Augusta.
Ar Allendale ...
Ar F irfax .
vr Yemassee...,
Ar Beaufort.....
\r Port Royal.
Ar Savannah....
Ar Charleston..,
Lv Charleston..
Lv Savannah....
Lv Port Boyal...
i v Beaufort.
Lv Yemassee....
Lv Fairfax.
Lv Allendale....
Ar Augusta.
9 45 am
10 60 am
11 05 am
1 40 pm
1 55 pm
3 05 pm
2 65 pm
5 00 pm
5 15 pm
6 20 pm
7 20 pm
7 35 pm
7 35 pm
910 pm
6 00 am
6 60 am
8 SO am
8 40 am
945 am
10 61 am
11 05 am
110 pm
Clon connection at Calhoun Falls for Athens,
Atlanta and all poi u ta on 8. A. L.
Close connection at Augusta for Charleston,
Savannah and all points.
Close connections at Greenwood for all points on
S. A. h., and C. ? G. Ballway, and at Spartanbdrg
with southern Railway.
For any Information relative to tickets, rates,
schedule, etc., address
W. J. CRAIG, Gen. Poss. Agent, Augusta, Ga.
E. M. North, Sol. Agent
T. M. fcmerson, Traffic Manager._
GEN. R. E. LEE,
SOLDIER,
Citizen and Christian Patriot.
A GREAT NEW BOOK for the PEOPLE.
LITE AGESTS WANTED
Everywhere to show, ?ample pages and get ap
Clubs.
EXTRAORDINARILY LIBERAL TERMS !
Money can be made rapidly, and e vast amount
of good done in circulating one of the noblest his
torical works published during the patt quarter of
a century. Active Agents are now reaping a rich
harvest. Some of our best workers are selling
OVER ONE HUNDRED BOOKS A WEEK.
Ur. A. <T. Williams, Jackson county, Mo , work
ed four days and a half and secured 61 orders. He
sells the book to almost tvery man he meets. Or.
J. J. Mason, Muscogee county, Ga., sold 120 copie?
the first five days be canvassed H. C. Sheet?,
Palo Pinto county, Texas, worked a few hours am
sold 16 copies, mostly morocco blading. J. H.
Hanna, Gaston county. N. C made a month's wa
ges in three oays cauvassing for this book. 8- M.
White, Callahan county. Texas, is selling booka at
the rate of 144 copies a week.
The work contains biographical sketches of all
the Leading ener?is, a vast amount of historical
matter, and a large number of beautiful full-page
illustrations. It ls a grand book, and ladles and
gentlemen who can give all or any part of their
time to the canvass are bound to make immense
suma of money handling it.
An elegant Prospectus, showing the different
styles of binding, sample pages, and all materiel
necessary t" work with will be sent on receipt of
50 cents The magnificent gallery of portrait?,
alone, in the prospectus is worth double the mon
ey. We furnish it st far less than actual cost of
msuufacture, and we would > dvi?e you to order
quickly, and get exolusive control of the best ter
ritory, Address
ROYAL PUBLISHING COMPANY,
Eleventh and Main Streets, RICHMOND, VA.

xml | txt