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V. IT MANNING, . C., WEDNESDAY, MAR.CH 5,1890. O14
The Haunted Chamber.
BY "THE DUCHESS."
Author of "Monica," "Mona ScUly,"
"Phyms' etc., etc.
The sun has "dropped down," and
the "day is dead." Thie silence and the
calm of coming nigzht are over every
thing. The shadowy twilight lies soft
ly on sleeping flowers and sWaing
boughs, on quiet fountains-the marble
basins of which gleam snow-white in
the uncertain light-on the glimpse of
the distant ocean seen through the
giant elms. A floating mist hangs in
the still warm air, making heaven and
earth mingle in one sweet confusion.
The ivy creeping up the ancient walls
of the castle is rustling and whispering
as the evening brmezo sweeps over it.
High up the tendrils climb, past mul
lioned windows and quaint devices,
until thev reach even to the old tower,
and twine lovingly round it, and push
through the long apertures in the .ma
sonry of the walls of the haunted cham
It is here that the shadows cast their
heaviest gloom. All this corner of the
old tower is wrapped in darkness, as
though to obscure the scene of terrible
crimes of past centuries.
Ghosts of dead-and-gone lords and
ladies seem to peer out mysteriously
from the openings of this quaint cham
ber, wherein no servant, male or fe
male, of the castle has ever yet been
known to set foot. It is full of dire
horrors to them, and replete with le
-s-gedotbo~ne days and grew some
sights ghasty enough to make the
stoutest heart quail.
In the days or the Stuarts an old earl
had hanged himself in that room rath
er than face the world with dishonor
attached to hisname; and earlier still a
beauteous dame, fair but frail, had
been incarcerated there, and slowly
starved to death by her relentless lord.
There was even in the last century a
baronet.-the earldom has been lost to
the Dynecourts during the Common
wealth-who having quarreled with his
friend over a reigning belle, had smit
ten him across the cheek with his
glove, and thea challenged him to mor
tal combat. The duel had been fought
in the luckless chamber. and had only
ended wi * the death of botk combat
ants; the lood stains upon the flooring
were large and deep, and to this day
the boards bor silent witness to the
sanguiny character of that secret
Just now, standing outside the castle
in the warmth and softness of the dy
ing daylight, one can hardly think of
by-gone horrors, or aught that is sad
There is an air of bustle and expect
ancy within-doors that betokens com
ing guests; the servants are moving to
and fro noiselessly but busily, and now
and then the stately housekeeper pass
es from room to room uttering com
mands and injunctions to the maids as
she goes. No less occupied and anx
ious is the butler, as he surveys the
*ork of the footmen. It is so long
since the old place has had a resident
master, and so much longer still since
guests have been invited to it, that the
household are more than ordinarily ex
cited at the change now about to take
Sir Adrian Dynecourt, after a pro
longed tour on the Continent and -lin
germg visits to the East, has at last
come home with the avowed intention
of becom a staid country gentleman,
and of settg to the cultivation
of turnips, the breeding of prize oxen,
and the determination to be the M. F.
1L when old Lord Dartree shall have
fulfilled his declared intention of retir
ing in his favor. He is a tall young
man, lithe and active. His skin, though
naturally fair, is bronzed by foreign
travel His hair Is a light brown, cut
very close to his head. His eyes are
large, clear, and honest, and of a pecu
liar dark violet: they are beautiful eves,
winning and sweet, and steady in their
glance. His mouth, shaded by a droop
mg! fair mustache, is large and firm,
ye eyprone to laughter..
It is quite the end of the London sea
son, and Sir Adrian has hurried down
from town to give direetions for-the
reception of some people whom he had
invited to stay with him during the
slaughter of tne partridges.
Now all is complete, and the last
train from EAension being due half an
hour ago Br Adrian is standing on the
steps of his hall-door anxiously await
ing some of his guests.
There is even a touch of genuine im
patience in his manner, which could
hardlyvbe attributed to the ordinary
longijig of a young man to see a few of
his friends. Sir Adrian's anxiety is
onand undisguised, and there is a
h efrown upon his brow. Presently
his face brightens as he hears the roll
of carriage-wheels. When the carriage
turns the corner of the drive, and thie
herses are pulled up at the hall door,
Sir Adrian sees a fair face at the wmn
dow that puts to flight all the fears he
has been harboring for the last half
"You have come?" he says delighted
lv, running down the steps and opening
thre carriage door huiself. "I am so
glad! I began tb think the train ran
away from you, or that the horses
"Such a journey as it has been!" ex
cl aims a voice not belon ~ng to the face
that had looked from te carriage at
Sir Adrian. "It has been tiresome to
the last degree. I really don't know
when I felt so fatiguedl"
A little woman, small and fair, steps
lan 'idly to the gound as she says this,
a .gaees .patheticall'y at her host.
She is beautifully "got u," both in
dress and complexion, and at a first
er handi Si .dian's shielet itrest
there, as though glad to be at her jour
ney's end conveying at the same time
by a getepressure of her taper fin
gers te fact that she is even more glad
that the end of her journey has brought
her to him. She looks up at him with
her red lids drooping as if tired, and
with a bewildered expression in her
pretty blue eyes that ads to the charm
of her face.
"It's an awful distance from town!"
says Sir Adrian, as if aoogizing for
the spot on which his gadold castle
has been built. "And it was more than
rodof you to come to me. I can only
ryto miake up to you for the discom
fotyouhave experienced to-day by
throwing all possible chances of amuse
merit in your way whilst you stay
B his time she had withdrawn her
hand,&andso he is free to go up to his
other guest and bid her welcome. He
says nothing to her strange to say, but
itisbhis hand that seeks to retain hers
this time, and it is his eyes that look
1on0 nlyinto the face before him.
"Yu are tired, too?" he says at
length. "Come into the house and rest
awE e before dinner. You will like to
gow your room at once, pertiaps?" ne
adsturning to his two visitors.
"Tank you-yes. If you will have
our tea sent up-stairs," replies Mrs.
Talbot plaintively, "it will .be such a
eomfort!" she always speaks in a some
'what poutin'g tone, and with heavy
ea-nonsense!" respnds Sir Ad
rian. "There's nothing like chamipa e
a pc-me-up. I'll send you tea ;
b. aemy avice, and try the cham
hthank yo, I shall so much pre
fer my tea!" Mr. Talbot declares, with
grcfllittle shrug of her shoulders,
which her friend Miss Delmnaine
ccpastinga cl'chievo3s lan
at him from under her long Jashes.
"And-yes, Dora will take champagne
too-when it comes."
"Naughtv girll" exclaims Mrs. Tal
bot. witi a little flickering smile. Dora
Talbot seldom smiles, having learned
by experience that her deli&date face
looks prettier in repose. "Come. then,
Sir Adrian," she adds. "let us enter
your enchanted castle."
The servants by this time have taken
in all their lugga-e-that is. as much as
they have been ahe to bring in the car
riage; and now the two ladies walk up
to the steps and enter tho hall, their
host beside them.
Mrs. Talbot. who has recovered her
spirits a little. is chattering gayly. and
monopolizing Sir Adrian to the best of
her ability, whilst Miss Delmaine is
strangely silent, and seems lost in a
kind of pleased wonder as she gazes
upon all her charming surroundings.
The last rays of light are streamifng
In through the' st'ained-glass windows,
rendering the olI hall full of myster
ious beautv. The g-ri in warriors ii their
coats of ixal see, to the entranced
gaze of Florence Delmaine, to be mak
ing ready to spring from the niches
which hold them.
Waking from her dream as she reach
es the foot of the stone staircase, she
says abruptly, but with a lovely smile
plag round'her mouth
"Surely, Sir Adrian, you have a ghost
in this beautiful old place, or a secret
staircase, or.-at least a bogy of some
sort? Do not spoil the romantic look
of it by telling me you have no tale of
terror to impart, no history of a ghostly
visitant who walks these halls at the
dead of night."
"We have no ghost here, I am sorry
to say," answers Sir Adrian. laughing.
"For the first time I feel distressed and
ashamed that it should be so. We can
only boast a haunted chamber; but
there are certain legends about it, I am
proud to say, the bare narration of
which would make even the stoutest
q"God gracious-how distinctly un
pleasant" exclaims Mrs. Talbot, with
a nervous and very effective shudder.
"How distinctly delicious. Tou meani"
puts in Miss Delmaine. Sir Adrian,
is this chamber anywhere near where I
"Oh, no; you need not be afraid of
that!" answers Dynecourt hastily.
"I am not afraid," said the girl sauci
ly. "I have all my life been seeking an
adventure of some sort. I am tired of
my prosaie existence. I want to know
w s dwellers in the shadowy realms
of ghost-land are MAe."
"Deer Sir Adrian, do urge her not
to talk like that; it is positively
wicked," pleads Dora Talbot, glancing
at him beseechingly.
"Miss Delmaine, you will drive Mrs.
Talbot from my house if you persist in
your evil courses." says Sir Adrian,
laughing again. "Desist. I pray vou!"
"Are you afraid,- Dora?" asks 'Flor
ence merrily. "Then keep close to me.
I can defy ill evil spirits, I have spells
"You have indeed!" puts in Sir Ad
rian, in a tone so low that only she can
hear it. "And, knowing this, you
should be merciful."
Though she cannot hear what he
says, yet Mrs. Talbot can see he is ad
dr'ssing Florence, and marks with
some uneasiness the glance that passes
from his eyes to hers. Breaking quiel.
ly into the conversation, she says tim,
idly, laying her hand on her host's
"This shocking room you speak of
will not be near mine?"
"In another wing altogether," Sir
Adrian replies reassuringly. "Indeed
it is so far from this part of the castle
that one might be safely incarcerated
there and slowly starve to death with
out any one of the household being a
bit wiser. It is in the north wing in
the old tower, a portion of the building
that has not been in use for over fifty
"I breathe again," says Dora Talbot
"I shall traverse every inch of that
old tower-haunted room and all-be
fore I am a week older," declares Flor
ence deiantly. After which she smiles
at Adrian again, and follows the maid
up the broad staircase to her room.'
Bthe end of the week many other
'iitr had been made welcome at the
astle; but none perhaps gave so much
plasure to the young baronet as Mrs.
Talbot and her cousin.
-Miss Delmaine, the only daugher
and heiress of an Indian nabob had
taken London by storm this past sea
son; and not only the modern Babylon,
but the heart of Adrian Dynecourt as
well. She had come home to England
on the death of her father about two
ears ago; and, having no nearer rela
tves alive, ha'd been kindly received
by her cousin. tire IHon. Mfrs. Talbot,
who was then livmng with her husband
in a pretty house in Mayfair.
Six months after Florence Delmaine's
arrival, George Talbot had succumbed
to a virulent fever: and his widow, up
on whom a handsome jointure had
been settled, 'when the funeral and the
necessary law worries had come to an
end, had Intimated to her young cousin
that she intended to travel for a year
upon the Continent, and that she would
be glad, that is-with an elaborate sigh
-she would be a de~gree less miserable,
if she, Florence would accompan-y her.
This delighted Florence. She was
wearied with attendance on the sick,
hiving done most of the nursing of the
Hon. George. while his wife lamented
and slept; arnd, beside, she was still
sore at heart for the loss of her father.
The years abroad passed swiftly; the
end of it brouh them to Paris once
more, where, felng that her time of
mourning might be decent~y terminat
ed, Mrs. Talbot had discarded her som
ber robes and put herself into the
hands of the most fashionable dress
maker she could find.
Florence, too, discarded mourningfor
the first time, although her father 'had
been almost two years in his quiet
grave amongst the fills; and, with her
cousin. who was now indeed her only
friend,' if slightly uncongenial. decidea
to return to Lon'don forthwith.
It was early in May, and, with a sen
sation of extreme 'and most natural
pleasure, the girl looked forward to a
few month s p~assed amongst the best
of those whom she had learned under
nier cousin's auspices to regara a
Dora~ Talbot herself was not by any
means dead to the thought ithat it
would be to her adivantage to introduce
into society a girl well-born and pes
sessed of an almost fabulous fortune.
Stray crumbs must surelv fall to her
share in a connection of t'his kind, and
such crumbs she was prepared to gath
er with a thankful'heart.
But unhappily she set her affection
upon Sir Adrian Dynecourt, with his
grand old castle and his princely rente
roll-a "crumb" the magnitude and
worth of which she was not slow to ap
preciate. At first she had not deemed
it possible that Florence would serious
ly regard a mere baronet as a suitor,
when her unbounded wealth would al
most entitle her to a duke. But "love,"
as she discovered later. to her discom
fiture, will always "find the way." And
one day, quite u'nexpectedly,.it'dawned
upon her that there might-if circum
stances favored them--grow up a feel
ing between Florence and Sir Adrian
that might lead to mutual devotion.
Yet, strong in the belief of her own
charms. Mrs. Talbot accepted the invi
tation given by Sir Adrian, and at the
close of the season she and Florence
Delmaine find themselves the first of a
batch of guests come to spend a month
or two at the old castle at Dynecourt.
Mrs. Talbot is still young, anid, In her
style, very pretty; her _eyes are lang
uishing and blue as gentian, her hair a
soft nut-brown- her tins perhaps are
not altogether laultiess. Deimg too line
and too e!oselv drawn, but then her
mouth is small.~ She looks considera
ble younger than she really is, and
does not forget to make the most of this
comfortable fact. Ind-ed. to a casual
observer, her cousin looks scarcelv her
Miss Delmaine is tall, slender. posee
more or less, whip Mrs.' Talbot is pret
tily rounded. pte in every point, and
nervously ambiitious of wining the re
gard of the male sex.
During the past wek private thea
tricals have been suggested. Every one
is tired of dancing and mui". The sea
son had given them more than. ., it
of both, and so they have fallen :
upon the theatricals.
The p lay on which they have decided
is Goldsiith's famous production,
"She Stoops to Conquer."
Miss Villiers. a pretty young girl with
yellow hair and charming eyes, is to be
Constantia Neville; Miss Delmaine,
Kate lardeastle: Lady Gertrude Vin
ing, though rather young for the part,
has comt M to l'ay 3rs. Ilardeastle,
under the impIlrCSsiOnL that she looks
well in a can and powdered haiL. An
impossible Tony Lumpkin has been diz
covered in a nervous young man with
a hesitation in his speech and a difficul
ty about the letter "S"-a young rpan
who wonderfully misunderstands To
ny, and brings him out in a hitherto
unknown charaeter; a suitable liast
ings has been found in the person of
Captain Ringwood. a gallant young
oftIcer. and one of the "curled darlings'
But whQ is to play Marlow? Who is
to be the ha;ppy man, so blessed-even
though in these fictitious circumstan
ces-as to be allowed to make love to
the reigning beauty of the past season?
Nearly every man in the house has
thrown out a hint as to his fitness for
the part, but as yet no arrangement
has been arrived at.
Sir Adrian of course is the one to
ward whom all eyes-and some verv
jealous ones-are directed. But hi's
duties as host compel him, sorely
against his will, to draw back a little
from the proffered honor, and to con
sult the wishes of his guests rather
than his own. Miss Delmaine herself
has laughingly declined to make any
choice of a stage lover, so that, up to
the present moment, matters are still
in such a state of confusion and uncer
tainty that they have been unable to
name any date for the production of
It is four o'clock. and they are all
uding or sitting in the library. In
t in uRsual in discussing the diicul
y Are all talking together, and,
tement that prevails, no one
'or open. or the footman's
iction of a gentleman, who
leisurely up to where Sir
is standing. leaning over
it 'Naine's chair.
H. 1 man of about thirty-five,
with a a ' face and dark eyes, and,
withal, a slight resemblance to Sir
"Ah. Arthur, it is youl" says Sir Ad
rian, in a surprised tone that has cer
tainly no cordiality in it, but, just as
certainly, the tone is not repellent.
"Yes. replies the stranger, with a
languid smile, and without confusion.
"Yesterday I suddenly recollected the
general invitation you gave me a
month ago to come to you at any time
that suited me best. This time suits
me. and so I have come."
He still smiles as he says this, and
looks expectantly at Sir Adrian. who,
as in duty bound, instantly tells him
he is very glad to see him, and that he
is a good fellow to have come without
waiting for a more formal repetition of
his invitation. Then he takes him over
to old Lady FitzAlmont. the mother of
Lady Gertrude Vining, and introduces
him to her as "my cousin Mr. Dyne
The same ceremony is gone through
'with some of the others, but, when hie
brings him to Mrs. Talbot, that pretty
widow interrupts his mode of introduc
"Mr. Dynecourt and I are old
'rends," she says giving her hand to
te new~(-comer. Tn, turning to her
cousin, she adds, ".Florence, is it not a
fatality our meeting him so often?"
"Have we met so often?" asks Flor
ence quietly, but with a touch of hau
teer and dislike in her tone. Then she
too gives a cold little hand to Mr. Dyne
cout who lingers over it until she dis
dai'ufl draws it away, after which
he turns from her abrupt'ly and devotes
himself to Dora Talbot.
The widow is glad of his attentions.
He is handsome and well-bred, and for
the last half hour she has been feeling
slightly bored; so eager has been the
discussion ab'out the MIarlow matter,
that she has been little sought after by
the opposit'e sex. And now, once again,
the subject is being eram~ined in a'll its
bearings, and the discussion waxes fast
"What is it all about?" asks .Arthur
Dynecourt presently, glancing at the
nmated group in the middle of the
room. And Sir Adrian, hearing his
question explains it to him.
"Ah, indeed!" he says. And then,
after a scarcely perceptible pause
'Who is to be Kate Hlardcastle?
"Miss Delmaine," answered Sir Ad
rian, who is still leaning over that
young lady's chair.
"In what does the difficulty consist?"
inquires Arthur Dynecourt, with appar
"Well," replies Sir Adrian. laughing;
"I believe mere fear holds us back.
Miss Delmaine, as we aWl know, is a
finished actress, and we dread spoiling
her nerformance by faults on our side.
none or us nave attempted the charac
ter before; this is why we hesitate."
"A very sensible hesitation. I think,"
says his cousin coolly. "You should
fh'ank me then for coming to your re
lief this mornfag; I have playved the
part several times, and shall be llelight
ed tou*letake it again, and help you
out of your difficulty."
At this Miss Delmaine flushes angri
ly, and opens her lips as if she would
say something, but, atter a second's re
flection. restrains herself. She sinks
back into her chair with a proud lan
guor, and closes her mouth resolutely.
Sir Adrian Is confounded. All along
he had secretly hoped that, in the end,
this part would fall to his lot; but now
-what Is to be done? How can he re
fuse to let his cousin take his place.
especially as he has declared himself
familiar with the part.
Arthur, observing his cousin's hesita
tion, laughs aloud. His is not a pleas
ant 'laugh, but has rather a sneering
ring in it, and at the pesent moment
it jars upon the ears of the listeners.
"If I have been indiscreet," he says,
with a slight glance at Florence's
proud face. "pray p~ardon me. I only
meant to render von a little assistance.
I thought I understood fromt you that
von were in a dilemma. Do not dwell
~upon my offer another moment. 1 am
arraid I have made myself somewhat
oflicious-un intentionally, believe mc."
"MIv dear fellow, not at all." dechtres
Sir Adrian hastilv, shocked at his own
apparent want ot courtesy. "I assure
you, von mistake. It is allI so mauch to
'he 'ontrary, that I gracefully ureept
your offer. 'and beg vou will 'be Mar'
"But really-" begings Arthur Dyne
"Not a word!" interrupts Sir Adrian;
and indeed by this time Arthur D~yne
court has brounght his cousin to believe
he is about to confer upon him a great
favor. "Look here. young fellows." Sir
rian goes on, walking toward the
otber men, who are still arguing and
disputing over the vexed question.
"I've settled it all for you. Here is my
cou~sin. he will take the difficul~y ofl
your hands. and be a first'-class M< low~
a tie sam tiimP."
A suppressed consternation follows
his announcement. Many and dark
are the glances cast upon the new
comer, who receives them all with his
usual imperturbable smile. Rising, Ar
thur approaches one of the astonished
group who is known to him, and says
something upon the subject with a
slight shrug of his shoulders. As he is
Sir Adrian's cousin. every one feels
that it wN Il be impossible to offer any
objection t-) his taking the much-covet
"Well, I have sacrificed myself for
you; I have renounced a very aear de
sire all to nlense you," says Sir Adrian
softly, btfnding down to Florence.
"Have 1 succeeded?"
non have snweeeded in displeasing
me iire than I can say," she returns
coldly. Theon. seeing his amazed ex
pression, she goes on hastil-. "Forgive
me, but I had hoped for another Mar
She blushes prettily as she says this,
and an expression arises in her dark
eyes that moves his deeply. Stooping
over her hand. he i1nprints a kiss upon
it. Dora Talbot. whose head is turned
aside. sees nothing of this, but Arthur
Dynecourt has observed the silent ca
reqs, and a dark frown gathers on his
A CHARACTEIITIC JOB.
low the Natio.-il eevernmeaS IN MIade
to Reward Petifeggers.
On Friday last the United States
Senate'passed without discussion a bill
ordering the payment of $2,500 to the
firm of Porter, Harrison and Fisbback
for legal services. The alleged servi
ces consisted "in defending ex-officers
and ex-soldiers for acts done by them in
obedience to the orders of a superior
officer of the United States Army in In
diana during the late war."
The Harrison in this firm of claiinants
is the Hon. -Benj-in'in Harrison, Presi
dent of the United States.
This same claim has appeared in we
previous Congresses, generally, if not al
ways under the titie of "A bill for the re
lief of Sewall Coulson and others"- the
"others" being Porter, larrison and
Fishback. The character and extent of
the services rendered by the President's
law firm were once very clearly explain
ed to the Forty-ninth Congress by Mr.
Bynum of Indiana.
The claim originated during the days
of the war. A man named Andrew
Humphreys was arrested on a charge of
conspiracy, and indicted and tried, and
for a time confined to the limits of two
townships in the county in which he
lived. After the war he brought suit
for damages in the County Court against
the officers who had ar. ested him. A
motion was made to transfer the case to
the Federal Court, under the statute
covering such cases. The county Judge
overruled this motion, and a jury brought
in a verdict of damages for Humphreys.
The case was then carried to the Supreme
Couit upon the ground afforded by the
error of the County Court in refusing to
transfer Humphrey's suit to the Federal
Court, where it belonged.
At this stage of affairs, Porter, Harri
son and Fishback appeared for the first
time as counsel for the defendants.
They filtd a single brief, presenting tho
obvious and unanswerable proposition
that the motion to transfer the cause to
the Federal Court ought to have been
granted. The error was as plain as a
pikestaff. The Supreme Court re7ersed
the judgment, the case went back to the
County Court, whence it was immediate
ly transferred to the Federal Court, and
All that the President's law firm ever
did in connection with the case was to
file that one brief. The State of Indiana
paid them $550 for that service, proba
bly very much more than the service was
wortb. Btit for years, in Congress, they
have been pressing their claim for $2,500
more, to come out of the Federal Treas
'The reappearance of this sleazy old,
claim at a time when one of the claimants
is president of the United States is
nothing less than scandalous.
Gen. Harrison may think that he is
fairly entitled to the $2,500 he demands
from the Federal Government, in addi
tion to the $520 already received from
the Governor of Indiana, for filing that
wonderful brief. He has a right to his
opinion He has a perfect right to urge
now as at say time the claim which' has
been rejected and pigeonholed in the
Forty-seventh, Forty-eighth, Forty-ninth
and Fiftieth Congresses. That is a
question of ethics and of taste.
But it strikes us that the Republican
party could afford to pay him ten times
the sum he demands, rather than have
this notorious Porter, Harrison, and
Fishback claim pushed through while
the middle partner happens to occupy
the White House.-New York Sue.
A Big Company to Mine Kaolin
CoLUMBIA, S. C., Feb. 27.-R. A.
Lynch, who left here and located in
Boston some months ago, has induced
a numnber of Boston capitalists to in
vestigate the Kaolin mines in Lexing
ton. Mr. Lynch, accompanied by
several of thes. gentlemen, has been
prospecting in Lexington for the past
week, and they have concluded the
purchase of about 330 acres of land
four and a half miles from Jolumbia.
A company has been formeC known as
"The Columbia Kaolin CJompany,"
with a capital of six bundre. 1 thousand
dollars. This is the first step toward
still larger investments by the gentle
men through Mr. Lynch's real estate
agency in Boston for the sale of
South Car::iina lands.
He had come to spend the evening
and she had received him in the libra
ry. The parlors were occupied. The
OldI Settlers' Association was holding
a meeting there.
"Miss Fredonia," said a domestic,
opening the library door. "IPm sorry to
disturo yez, but they're a wanting more
chairs. Pil have to take all yez can
The face of the young girl grew
radiant with the glow of generous self
"Alfred," she whispered, resolutely,
"those old people must not stand.
Nora, you may take everything except
this rocking chair."--Albany Argus.
It is rumored that Speaker Reed re
cently won $75,000 in the Louisiana Lot
tery. The story was started by a Balti
more lawyer who was defending a man
charged with keeping a "bucket shop.'
The lawyer claimed that a poor man
who can invest but a few cents should
have the same right to risk his mite as
the well-to-do person who could invest
more in the Louisiana Lottery. Possibly
tbs story was the invention of the law
yer. However this may be, it is certais
that Speaker Reed has been doing some
things far worse than buying lottery
ARP ON THE NEG IP.
THE NORTH'S IGNORANCE 0]
Sonic teflectionm on the Faie impreaonIoD
Conveved by tp.rtinau Newspapers-Th
Negro and his Social Status.
I receive d a letter the other day fron:
a Virginian who thinks of movinc
South, and he wanted to know hon
long it would take him and his family
to be come acclimated, and what wa
the safest time of the year to make
the change, Ifhe had ever been Sout:
he would not have asked such ques
tions. Most of the Northern peopl
associate the South with malaria and
bad, sickly weather. They look on
the map and see the parallels of lati
tude, and so form their opinions.
Well, there is some malarial coun.ry
away down South somewhere, but up
here in Georgia we talk about going
to Florida to spend the winter, just
like the Northern people do. The
only difference between Georgia and
Virginia is that our winters are shorter
and milder, and our summers longer
and cooler. The climate is just vigor
ous and bracing.
Now, it is " fNct that the Southern
people know a great deal more about
the North than their people know
about us. The tendency of trivel is
northward, and has always been so. A
hundred travelers would go north- to
where one came south. Business and
pleasure called them there. Until the
great army of drummers came into ex
istence, the Southern merchants went
north twice a year to buy their goods,
their spring stock and fall stock, and
they became well acquainted with the
people and their manners and customs
and politics and religion. For seven
years I was P. merchant and mingled
with them from Boston to Philadel
phia, but none of them came south to
mingle with me. Before the war we
sent hundreds of our boys to Northei n
colleges, but they never send any to
ours. We have always taken their
newspapers and magazines, but they
have never taken ours. Thousands
of our wealthy people visit thair
watering places and their great cities
every summer, but they never visit
ours, and so they are still unacquaint
ed with us. In recent yearsagood many
af their nabobs and invalias take a
straight shoot for Florida every win.
ter, but they go in Pullman sleepers
with the curtains down, and when they
get there they huddle together in a
fine hotel at five dollars a day and
don't get acquainted with the natives
and don't want to. They come chock
full ot the prejudices of a century,
prejudices that are part of their re
igion and they don't want to lose
them. You might as well try to get a
Baptist, or a Methodist, or a Jew, to
change his religion. There is but one
channel open to removal of prejudice
and that is through the pocket. The
only hope of promoting peace is in get
ting acquainted, and the only hope of
eing acquainted is throagh business
hannels. Russell Harrison came down
to Atlanta to a banquet and he be
haved like a gentleman, and I expect
he is a gentleman, but he has gone
:ack believing that our people are
illing and per3ecuting the negroes
nd robbing Republican postmasters
as a general business, a kind of amuse
ment. But our climate and our mine
al treasures are drawing their good
people down here pretty fast. T1hey
are investing their money and they
stay to watch it, and the longer they
stay the better they like us. Their
deep concern about the negro soon
passes away and the race problem
bug bear vanishes into a myth. The
truth is, there are too many alarmists
about the negro, even in our own sec
tion. There is plenty of room here
for white and for black, and will be for
acentury to come. I can't see any vol
:ano nor hear its mutterings.
The race problem has already been
solved in other countries. I was talk
ing to a traveler a few days ago-a
man who has seen enough of the world
and humanity and government to can
cel all his prejudices, and cause him
to lock upon everything with the eye
of a philosopher. Not long ago he
took a trip to the Windward islands,
the little Antilles, and spent some
weeks upon them. He visited St. Kitts
and Dominica and Antigua and Bar
badoes and Trinidad, and found the
English people in charge, and although
the population was mostly negroes,
there was no trouble anywhere. There
was no social equality, nor any, other
equality. England makes their laws
and they ha' e to obey them. The
English rule is kind and humane, but
it is firm and absolute. In those
islands there are about thirty thous
and whites and three hundred thous
and negroes. Those negroes were
emancipated in 1843S, and they are now
pretty much what the were then. Some
industrious, some lazy, some vaga
bonds, some beggars, but all dependent
upon the white man and happy in
in that dependence. They have plenty
f religion and are content with the
present and have but little concern
with the future. They cultivate the
lands and make all the sugar and mo
lasses. The lands are owned by En
glish landlords, who live in London.
Ihe governor-general is appointed by
the crown, and he has enough officers
and agents to enforce the laws and
keep the peace. Negro policemen are
appointed to keep order am~ng th
negroes, and they do it. Now, what 12
the matter with this picture? Nothing.
t is just the same picture that is here.
Right here in this commumity we have
some honest industrious negroes whc
work regularly every day, and are
lever, law-abiding citizens. We have
others who work when they feel likE
it and steal when they don't. About
half the boys from ten to eighteen are
sreet vagabonds, who run the streets
and the depot platforms, and are ready
to make a nickel at anything that 15
quick and easy. They laugh and frolic
and are greaesy and ragged and dirty
and smell loud, and are perfectly hap
py. Sometimes they steal a half -1o1
lar's worth of something and atone foi
it by breaking up rocks on the streets
for a week, but they don't care so they
get enough to eat. These boys are no1
the ee ation but are the rule. If thE
law was enforced the last rascal o
them would be in the chaingang, bul
our people won't entor :o it. We don'1
want to, our feelings oi sympathy foi
the little vagabonds prevent a prose
cution for these little pilferings. The3
wait upon us so willingly and blacli
our sces, and carry our parcels, ani
bring our water, and sweep out ou
offices, and carry sweet notenfrom th
bys to the girls and vise versa, an<
are always on hiud waiting for
nickel, and so we take the bad with
the good and are 3ontent. There is no
volcano about them.
Old England is smart,mighty smart.
She gets the labor of these negroes for
their food and clothing. just like she
did before she freed them. That's
about all the toilers get anywhere,
whether white or black. Ha-3py is that
race that is content with their lot.
THE LENTEN SEASON.
The Value and Significance of the FRt,
Stated by a Catholic Jcurnal.
It is hardly necessary to call the at
tention of our readers to the fact that
we are once more upon the threshold
of the penitential season of Lent, or
to remind them of the important and
essential duties which this period
imposes. At the very outset by the
solemn ceremony of the ashes, the
Church impresses on our minds the
necessity of preparing ourselves for
that eternity upon the brink of which
we at all times stand tremblingly.
A moment's serious reflection upon
the transitoriness of all thiugs mun
dane, is all that is required to urge a
thoughtful mind upon the path in
which the Church lovingly and per
sistently seeks to direot our footsteps.
There are no considerations that
affect the welfare of the Christian as
intimately or as constantly as those
which touch the future life. Our
temporal interests and needs-the
weightiest and most pressing of them
-are the merest trivialities when con
trasted with our spiritual ones. It is
4h.e height of folly, if indeed it deserves
no stronger name, to subordinate the
urgent duties that bea- upon our sal
vation to the imaginary requii'einents
of our mortal state. What are busi
ness successes and the earthly triumph
of social or intellectual effort if they
are achieved at the expense of what
concerns the eternity of the - oul?
These are thoughts that should force
themselves upon all minds at all
times. There is no existence, no mat
ter how deeply involved in the things
of life, that can afford to turn aside
from the chastening thoughts that
come to it of that after life which
begins with the grave. All effort and
sacrifice are absolutely wasted that do
not hinge upon the thought of immer
These are the coasiderations that
the Church urgently holds out to us in
all her teachings and ceremonies; they
are the lessons of her festivals and her.
fasts. Especially during Lent, a
period of prayer and contemplation
instituted in imitation of the long trial
and mortification self-imposed by the
Divine Saviour for the perfection of
His wonderful mission, does the
Church call upon us to give up our
minds to holy thoughts and our lives
tV holy acts. No Catholic, no matter
how callous, who will thoughtfully
ponder the significance of the holy
season, can remain indifferent to its
obligations. The commaad that calls
us to prayer and a sober study of our
spiritual needs, is the command of a
loving and tender mother, solicitous,
not for her own glory, but for the
glory of God and the good of souls.
There are none of us who can afford to
turn a deaf ear to the summoas. Not
a life time, but an eternity depends
upon our dutiful response.-Catholic
A BRIDAL HORROR.
Thc Groom Expires in His Newly .11arried
The story of a widow of half a marri
age night is the sensation of Brainerd,
Mion. Thursday night was set for the
marriage of Miss Lillie Dean, the daugh
ter of a North side widow, to J. B. Ul
mer. The latter was yard train clerk of
the Northern Pacific. The ceremony
was performed about 8 o'clock, and after
an cvening spent in the usual felicitous
manner with guests and friends the
twain said good night and retired
Another couple who had been brides
maid and groomsman to the happy cou
ple, were just leaving when there was a
wild scream in the windows above, to
which the bridal pair had retired.
Again and again the cry was repeated,
with hurry of soft feet overhead, and
then a rush of a female figure down the
stairway, with moans and calls fearful
to be heard and never to b3 foruotten.
Then open flew the stair door, and there
was the bride, who but a short time be
fore was so radiant, in snowy bridal
night raiment. She sprang through the
door and fell almost into the arms of
hec sister bridesmaid. "0, God! go
quick! Jimmy is dead; Jimmy is dead,"
was all they could understand of the
mournfui cries she uttercd, as she swoon
ed in her sister's arms. From various
chambers swarmed members of the fam
ily and guests not yet departed, all filled
with consternation, surrounding the
When the groomsman started to lead
the way to the bridal chamber above,
the girl revived, sprang to the hallway
and, taking the lamp in her bans, led
the way. It was a small room. The
bridal chambr-r was weirdly lighted by a
lamp turned only partlj up. The bride,
with her hair wildly streaming, threw
herself upon an inanimatc form upon
No response was made to her endear
ing calls or to efforts begun by those
now surrounding to bring him to life.
T.Ne groom was dead. lie seemed in a
natural sleep, and efforts to restore him
were not discontinucd pcnding the arri
val of physicians sent for, but even un
der every effort at restoration the body
grew into the stark. stiff signs of
Then the horror stricken bride, who
lingered still in her night robes. was re
moved from her dead. Dr. Groves, the
surgeon summoned, stated that death
had resulted from paralysis of the heart,
probably the result of nervous strain or
shock coming from weakened heart. It
seems that ab~out Christmas time~ the de
ceased was taken with la grippe, and al
though he had been confined to the
house but a short time had not fully re
The stricken bride giving an account
of the afiair, said that it was exactly
11 o'clock when she and her newly-made
husband wvent up stairs, saying "good
night" and "good bye."
"When at last we were alone," she
said "James was only usually fo-id and
deearing. When our night toilets were
prepared and we retired he kissed me
and said 'good night,' turning to oneI
side from moe. Almost instantly a
strange, awful sound escaped from' his
lips, which startled me. It was like a
smothered cry from nightmare. I sprang
up and endeavored to raise him. Fail
ing, I fled; and you know the rest."
TIhe bride of this horrible experience
is a medium-sized brunette, inclined to
plumpness, with black hair, large dark
eyes, a really handsome face and good
form. She is 19 years of age.
A TALE OF HORROR.
SICKENING DETAILS OF THE
PRISON OUTRAGE AT KARA.
Women PrLonern, Drifen to Despair,
Seek to Starve Themselves--Subject to
Revoltina Brutalities, by Their Beastly
Guards--Male Prisoners Attempt Whole
Further details ofthe outrage in the
political prison at Kara have reached
Russian exiles in London, from friends
who are located a short distance from
the scene of the horror. They are
brief but conclusive, confirming fully
the report of the affair received there
from an official in St. Petersburg, who
is in sympathy with the cause of the
people. According to the details just
received, it appears that trouble at the
Kara prison originated in a '-hungry
strike" in August, when the women
political prisoners tried to starve them
selves to death to escape the brutali
ties of their jailors. All the women
imprisoned thero abstained from food
for fourteen days.
The jailors did not believe that they
would be able to keep up the struggle.
At first they jeered at the women, then
tempted them with food and then
finding this of no avail, threatened
them. When several of the women
were at the point of death from their
voluntary abstinence from food, the
prison olficials resorted to artificial
means to compel them to take nourish
ment. The methods adopted, however,
were violent and licentious and the
women wejre compelled to abandon
Abominable outrages followd-&
were of daily and hourly occurrence.
This state of affairs led Madam Sigida,
whose death by flogging has already
been announced, to ask for an inter
view with the doctor of the prison in
the hope of securing an amelioration
of the condition of the prisoners. This
request was granted, but when she was
taken before him, she found him
abusive. It was said that in her indig
nation at his abuse she called him a
villain and slapped his face. It is not
positively known, however, what took
place during the interview, but what
ever did happen, Madame Sigida did
not return to her companions. She was
taken from the Director's office and
conveyed to the prison in which com
mon offenders are confined. Three of
her companions from among the roliti
Cal prisoners were permitt ed to join
her. The advices just received state
that these were Mary Koalesey, vife
of Professor Koalesky, of Kieff, Ma
dame Smirnitsky and Maria Kolujny.
The last two ladies were from Odes
Two months elapsed after the event
before the Agent, Baron Koreg, Gov
ernor General of the Province of
Amour, instructed the directors of the
prisons that the edict of March, 1888,
which ordered that political prisoners
should be treaed-by risovofficials in
precisely the same manner as crimi
nals condemned for common law of
fenses, would be enforced, and ordered
the directors to notify the political
prisoners of both sexes that they would
be liable to corporal punishment if
they violated certain of the prison
regulations. The male prisners, fore
seeing immediate danger, held a con
sulation and sent to the director of the
prison a petition that he would tele
graoh to the Minister of the Interior
at St. Petersburg, requesting him to
suspend the application of the edict.
The director refused to pay any atten
ion to their petition and thereurpon
the men warned him that the flogging
of a political prisoner would be the
signal for the others to commit suicide
Three days afterwards, Baron Koreff
sent a special order that Madame Sigi
da be flogged acoording to the regula
tions and the ordor was executed to
the fullest extent. Madame Sigida
was stripped and received 100 lashes.
She was carried off bleeding and in an
unconscious condition and her death
ensued from rupture of the heart. Her
three companions committed suicide
within an hour of the time of hearing
of Madame Sigida's death. The corp
ses of the four women were buried at
the same time in the court yard of the
common offenders' prison,
For weeks the cordon of vigilance
was so closely maintained around the
prison that nothiug was know of what
was happening within. Since the
secret channel of information has been
reopened it has been learned that the
men carried out their Lhreat of suicide.
They met together and thirty of them
shared what poison they could obtain
and then went to their cells to die. The
quantity of poison which had been
smuggled into the prison was not suffi
to kill quickly, but in the course of
the evening two of those who had
shared it, Bebookor and Koluzry died.
Their convulsions and the death scene
which reigned in other cells roused
the attention of the guards, and they
immediately summoned physicians,
who adninistered emetics to the sur
vivors and endeavored by every
means to counteract the effects of the
A Kind-Hearted Woman.
Mr Fainwed: 'Then you refuse to
Mrs. Mamnchance: "For the present
I must. My husband is in good health,
and we are the be2; of friends."
Mr. Fainw ed. "And you can give me
Mrs. Mainchance: "I will keep your
address, and if a vacaney should occur
I will drop you a line."
(N. B.-This happened in Chicago,
of course )
Mother: "Tommy, I hear you got a
thrashing in school to-day."
Tommv: "yes ma, the teacher whip.
ped me, ~but he is getting so old and
weak that it didn't hurt mnch."
"Did you cry?"
"Oh, yes; I bawled so you could
have heard me on the next block."
"Why did you do that?"
"I wanted to make the old man feel
happy once more."
D)ick IHawes Hanged.
BIRMINGHAM, Ala., Feb. 28.-Rich
ard Hawes was hanged today at 12.30
p. in., and in twenty-one minutes the
body was cut down and delivered
over to his brother. The crime for
which Hawes paid the pegity with
his lifa was the murder of his wife and
two children, Mary and Irene, Tues
day morning, December 4, 1888.
-Senator John W, Daniel, the
great Virginia orator, will deliver the
address at the reunion of Confederate
Veterans to l'r at A tlanta Apny 9a
AN ALLEGED SLATE.
What a Drummer Sav% is the Programme
of the March Convention.
"Watch Ben Tillman and the March
Convention of farmers," said a drum
mer yesterday to a reporter for the
News and Courier, "and you will
see some developments. I have been
around a great deal recently to the
various towns in the upper part of
the State, and the farmers are quiet
over the Convention, but some of the
local politicians are comforting them
selves with a great deal of clap-trap
about the failure of the Ward Conven
tion to nominate a ticket. The steady,
well-to-do farmers do not Eeem to
take any interest in the Convention,
and I doubt if the Convention will be
a representative one. At all events the
Convention will be held.- The leaders
of the Farmers' Movement will see to
that. And a ticket will be nominated
with a whoop and a loud hurrah. You
wil likely see the following names on
the ticker, a: least from what I can
hear.the following ticket has been made
"For Governor, Benjamin R. Till
man, of Edgefield.
"For Lieutenant Governor, John W.
Ferguson, of Laurens.
"For Secretary of State,M. L. Don
aldson, of Greenville.
"For Attorney General, Y. J. Pope,
"For Adjutant General, Hugh L.
Farley, of Sp trtanburg.
"For Comptroller General, E. T.
Stackhouse, of Marion.
'These names are on the slate, but
of course, may be erased before the
Convention meets. The rest of the
tis - ,nnt made up, so
far as I can leai u.Ut Ben Tillman
will fix all that, and he be the
nominee for Governor without a dou .
It is, of course, only a rumor, but
these man-es were given me by a good
Farmers' Movement man."-News
Governor Hill Must Explain.
It is now time for Governor Hill to
tell what he knows about the election
of 1888. The parties "of the second
part" say they bought the Presidency
of Lim that year, giving him the Gov
ernorship in exchange. What has he
to say? M. Ainsworth, Republican,
in the New York Assembly, on Feb
ruary 27, 1889, said in defense of an
alleged deal between Governor Hill
and the Republican managers over the
Capitol ceiling job: "We ought not to
have left it in the hands of Commis
sioner Perry and let the politics take
care of itself, and we would have had
a Democratic President instead of a
Republican, if we had done it." The
New York Tribune, an even better
authority, said in its issue of the 14th
of the present month: "Many pe
fancy, because Governor ' 511!Hpd
New York when President Ole
was defeated, that a plurality/of the
voters in the State would support him
again. But intliat ciatest as many
peole here well know, Hill succeed
ed only because he was able to sell
a presidency for a governorship."
This is a confession that the Republi
can managers bought the election of
Mr. Harrison by the sacrifice of their
candidate for Governor. It is also a
charge that Governor Hill corruptly
bartered away the interests entrusted.
to him by his party. Somethingneeds
to be done to vindicate the Governor
His having a majority when Mr.
Cleveland had not is a suspicious cir.
cumstance. The Republican confes
sions cited above create a presumption
that something is wrong.-Baltimore
Facts For Farmers.
If a hen lays one egg a week she will
pay all expernses of keep. Every, egg
over is profit. The greater the number
of eggs secured the lower the cost of
each egg proportionately.
A system of farming which does not
provide in an economical way for a re
turn, in an available form, of the soil
constituents carried ofE by the crop rais
ed cannot otherwise but prove ultimate
ly a financial failure.
John C. Willis, who lives on the farm
formerly owned by his father in Talbot
county, Ga., says there are good chestnut -
rails now in use on the farm that were
split by the Indians when they owned
A correspondent says that algood way
to teach a calf to drink is to pnuch the'
pith out of a corn cob, put the cob..in
the calf's mouth and put the nose in the
milk in the pail. -.
A complete change of the soil in flow
er pots is sometimes necessary, and will
enabi: a plant to secure more food and
row better. If the same soil is used
oo long, it may become unfit for the
health of the plants, as well as harbor
worms and parasitic insects.
The successful farmer must raise good
stock, and he shouild know the history.
and merits of the various improved
breeds of stock; but how many farmers
make the mistake of their lives by
blindly raising common stock, saying
and believing that fine stock is no bet
An acre in fruit, especially of straw
berries, will sometimes pay better than
five acres of grain. It should pay the
farmer to have a sufficiency of fruit for
his own usc alone. A large quanity can
be canned for winter use, and it affords
an agreeable change without much cost.
Sugar production was greatly stimu-.
lated in Southern Russia by a high tar
iff, but the profits of the business led to
over production and caused prices to
drop to five cents a pound. To encour
age exports, the Government has lately
voted a bounty of one and two-fifths
cents per pound for all sugar exported
until the exports reach seventy-two mil
lion pounds. An additional bounty of
nearly one cent per pound is grantedifor
the earlier exportations.
Jake Kirain to Retire.
Jake Kilrain is about to retire tem
porarily from the fistic arena. He has
been on the down grade for some time
and has recognized that it will, b~e
wise to taccept the friendly advice 6f~
Muldoon and others. Rheumatim'ra
something else has been gradually ge
ting hold of him, and he can hardly .
close up his hands, his right shoiirder"
i lame and his legs very sore. It-has.
been decided that he go to Hot.
Springs as soon as possible and re.
main there for five weeks. In order
to defray the expenses of the trip a
benefit will be given him. 2hil Dwyer
and Dave Gideon, the New York
turfmen, and Geo. A. Kessler and
other friends have subscribed $100