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The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, December 22, 1895, Image 18

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18
A SAILOR’S BRIDE.
(A YACHTING STORY.)
By CHARLES V. HICKIE.
Author of-. 1 Latter-Day Pirate," Etc., Etc,
Copyrighted. We, by C. V. lllckie
Scene —the breakfast-room at Langley
House, Langley-on-Sca—where Chrissie
Somers and her sister Madeline, daugh
ters of the late Admiral Somers, lv. C. B„ :
live with their uncle, Mr. George Med- j
hurst.
It is a delicious June morning, and
through the open window comes the war- |
hling uf a goldfinch amid the laburnum
tassels, and the scent of clematis, and a
twinkling pencil of sunshine which lights j
up the table bright with silver and crys
tal and flowers.
Chrissie, a handsome girl of twenty, j
with witching grey eyes ami aylphlike fig
ure, stands at the west window looking to
wards the harbour. .
"Oh. Maddie!” she says, pointing— I m
certain that's the Clarisse. Harry nvist •
have come in during the night. Oh, w hat ,
fun we shall have!" |
Madeline is some ten years older than
her pretty little sister, and her confidant
in everything, and knew an about it some
time before of Chrissie's engagement to
Lieut, Esmonde, late of H. M. S. Aga
memnon, and now (.since he has inherited
on his lather's death), ow ner ol the dash
ing yacht Clarisse, will he given to the
W "A happy birthday, Chrissie, and many
happy returns—here's a whole postbagful ;
of 'billets deux’ you little puss', says i.n
eldcrlv gentleman with a, broft'l, kin i>
face and white hair, as he comes m ami |
kisses the blushing girl affectionately. ,
“Oh uncle, what no you think—we can ,
make’out the Clarisse—there she is. at,
the red buoy.” „ fIM
“Really—you don’t say so? Why, that s
capital—now we shall have some glorious ;
Cl And Uncle George, who. truth to tell, j
never crosses the hari>our without sufTer- .
ing untold agonies—hums a stave or two |
of “A life on the ocean wave. ' as lie sits I
down to his chop and devilled kidney...
For he is a charming, sympathetic old ;
fellow, and loves the little girl as U she j
were his own daughier. .. .
Soon the sisters are deep in the discus
sion of iheir letters—especially one which
bears the monogram H. tv. and give ilse
to much delightful conjecturing.
••My darling—l hope you will like my
little birthday present." That is the text.
"Flowers, i say." hazards the romantic
Christie
“Jewelry. I'm positive!" says the prac
tical Madeline—"A duck of a brooch, or
a pearl necklace —or—" and so on. -
The controversy still rages, when, break
fast being finished, the maid-servant en
ters with a message that the cabin hoy of
the Clarisse, w hich is in the harbor, says:
"With Lieut. Esmondes compliments, sir,
will you and the young ladies go with
him a little way at your convenience?.
Fluttering with the delightful sense of
mystery and romance, the girls hurry
theT uncle into his hat and coat, and
the good man is hardly allowed time to
light his cigar before he finds himself in
their company, following the leadership
of the boy.
Across the lawn the latter guides them,
and along the shores of the salt water lake
at the bottom of it, and on till they come
to a little quay, and out to the head of it.
And lo and behold!—there at the head
of the quay, with amber-bright manllla
ropes, and stanchions that shine like goid,
and decks as white as cotton, and "Alyo
sotis" painted in silver filigree on her
stern —lies as dainty a little steam-launch
as ever left a builder's yard!
“Which I 'opes you likes the looks of
her. miss?" says the gruff old sailor on
board, pulling his forelock. "Steam's up
now. miss,” touching a string and pro
ducing a w hite puff of steam and a shrill
■whistle, “If you'd like a sail?”
It Is all like a delightful dream to Chris*
sie, who despite the wisdom that should
have come with her years—twenty of
them, all told—is but a child after all, ami
hushes with happiness to the very roots
of her auburn curls.
And oh what a gem of a cabin there Is
for'ard, with green velvet upholstery and
a "duck” of a walnut table, and in the
middle of the table a vase of blush-roses,
and nestling in the flowers an. envelope ad
dressed to "Miss Chrissie Somers,” and
which being opened, discloses a card in
scribed: "To my darling Chrissie on her
birthday, June 25th, 18—, from her over
loving H. F. E.”
An inscription w htch evidently includes
blush-roses and vas and table and cabin
and yatchlet all complete.
“V ould the ladus like to see the hen
gines work?” the old salt suggests pres
ently. "They're the most powerfulest
hengines ever sot up in a craft lik£ this
here. I'm most afl'tared they’ll liN her
riff the water at top speed—nay, hut I am,
sir, honest,” he adds for the specinal ben
efit of Uncle George, who beams indis
criminately all around.
Could au artist have caught the expres
sion of Chrissie's radiant fact, as a few
minutes later her little ship flew over
the level surface of the lake faster, and
faster and faster, until the fresh summer
wind lifted the little sailor hat and toyed
wooingly with the lustrous curls, that ar
tist would have made his fortune.
Chrissie was passionately fond of the
water. Indeed, it was the picture of the
beautiful girl pulling her boat in the har
bor, her cheeks flushed and eyes spark
ling with the graceful exercise, which
brought out every charm of her perfectly
molded figure, that had carried young
Esmonde’s heart by storm the very first
time he had seen her.
And now, under the care of Old Fred,
who, by the way, was greatly attached
t 6 his master, who had engaged him on
the Clarisse, though rather past his work,
In consideration for his helpless family,
ahe spent whole days, and day after day
on the water.
If an additional attraction were wanting
it lay in the freedom it afforded her from
the attentions of a certain Mr. Blakely,
whom she detested.
Blakely was an annual visitor to I.ang
ley-on-Sea. where he look one of the best
houses—a dissipated-looking dandy whose
enormous cigar and.hull terrier were fa
miliar features among the fashionable
mob On the esplanade.
If you did not meet him there you could
rely on tiniding him at the Monotom Arms,
imbibing considerable quantities of bran
dy and soda, and flirting with the Circes
of the bar.
This attractive personage had pressed
his attentions on Chrissie to such an ex
tent that he had become a source of con
stant annoyance to her.
80 much so indeed that she had looked
forward with a little misgiving tq a social
gathering soon now to take place’.
This was the Bachelor’s Ball, an event
•which sent an annual thrill of excitement
through the little watering place.
This year the ball was to take place rath
er earlier than usual, about a fortnight,
in fact, after Chrissie had been present
ed with the steam-launch, as above nar
rated.
. The bachelors of Bangley knew how to
do these things, and when the night had
come and the great pavillion which had
been erected in the grounds of Beaulieu
court was ablaze with light, and vari
colored lamps hung like great tropical
flowers from every shrub in the walks,
and a crescent moon touched the fir tops
With silver—it was quite like a picture
from fairy land. The excellent siring band
of the Kuiz Brothers which had been
brought down from London for the occa
sion, occupied a platform at the end of
tjic marquee.
Chrissie, loosing exquisite in a filmy rose
tinged dress bright with the soft lustre
of pearls, which set off her ivory-pure
complexion to perfection, was the queen
qf the ball
It was a great disappointment that her
lover had neiit a message at the last mo
merit that he would Is- unavoidably de
tained away, at auy rate, from the first
pan of the hall.
None the less, she good-naturedly prom
laed one dance after another, until she
felt quite fatigued.
Tig night was sultry, and though one
end of the nutnygci was open it* whole
length, that with tbe lannis and the crush
It had become, after a time, rather . las.
Throwing a shawl over net shoulders
IW® ilt'flkfjf tO k Jfiifdif) tM'itt J|
•short way from th* oaviliion t*n<* nut
down with a mil* iifl of wtßiii../
.later, who was treading tiTTna.y
circles under tin guUlam-e of a orlin
Indian colonel, had promised to loin
her ,1 she ~*d of the wait* *
Isutely night, Miss liK-dioinete ’
A man was leaning over from Ixjbtnd;
his face, as she saw by the light of a
Chinese lantern near, was flushed, and
his breath aliominably redolent of spir
its.
“It is. indeed." she answered, timidly,
and making a movement as if to rise.
lr. a moment he was in front of her,
huskily whispering intolerable gallan
tries, his face so close to hers that she
could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
“Chrissie. my darling—why—hie—why
will you be always so hard, on a fellow?
If you only knew how I—h V—love you!”
."You have no right to speak to me like
that, Mr. Blakely!" the girl said, indig
nantly. and with hot tear starting, to her
eyes. • .if
With a natural desire to avoid a scene,
she had spoken in a low tone, a fact
wh|eh seemed to add to the assurance of
her drunken admirer.
Ate she rose to her feet, trembling In
every' limb, the pale grace of the moon
light brought out the loveliness of her
face and figure so superbly that in an
instant Blakely, who had been drinking
very heavily, felt his balance completely
overset.
Still further emboldened by the loud
swell of music at the moment, he stag
gered up to her, put his arm around her
waist, and losing every instinct of re
straint and reason at the magic touch,
kiss.-i her: yes, kissed her hotly, brutaliy,
again and again.
llardlvbad the struggling girl been able
to give'one muffled cry when a tall form
strode- up out of the gloom, grippes! the
wretch by the throat, shook him this way
arid that, as a dog does a rat, till every
bone in his iody seemed dislocated, and
hurled him head over heels Into the basin
behind, where he dramatically disappear
ed amid the fountain Jets, yellow and
green and red under the play of the lamps.
It is well for him that the retribu
tion looks so striking—ln sober fact It is
only a two-foot dip amid the newts and
water lilies—or probably Esmonde s ven
geance would not have been so easily sat
isfied.
"Oh, it was horrible!” Chrissie sobbed,
nestling her little head against her lover's
breast; oh, what a sweet senso of protec
tion! "hut he didn't know what he was
doing, and please, Harry, don't take any
more notice of it, for my sake!”
The fracas had not been observed —the
dip of the pond was laughed over as an
accident—"poor devil, not very steady on
his pins, you know," men whispered to
one another—Blakely slouched home
across the fields, and that was the end of
the mtatter.
For Chrissie's sake Esmonde was glad
that this should be so—and Blakely, thick
skinned knock-ahout, as he was, got over
his ruffling so completely to ail appear
ance, that meeting Chrissie a few days
later oil the esplanade, he had the au
dacity to attempt to address her—but she
had frozen him by a look.
The distressing incident made her turn
to the yatohing with all the more zesi,
and Esmonde, delighted with her enthu
siasm, organized all sorts of pleasant ex
peditions.
One morning he came to her with a let
ter In his hand.
“Awful nuisance, my darling,” he said,
"I've been trying to get up a little re
gatta here, and wrote to the yacht club
at Farleigh. And here's the secretary's
answer—says the fellows wouldn't like
to bring their boats to a bar harbor like
Langley. As if there could be any risk
with a flag signal hoisted to tell them
the moment there's water on the bar—
confound them!”
"Oh. never mind. Harry, we can get on
well enough without them!"
“Oh! but that’s not all. The secretary
begs lo remind me—be hanged to him—
of my wager to race the Glendower for
50 guineas a side round Deave's Buoy
and back, on the 10th!”
"Oh. I’d love to see the race. You
musn't dream of backing out of It, dar
ling!" Chrissie says enthusiastically—
she knows how proud the young sailor
is of a crack cruiser.
“Ghastly bore, though. If I won the
America's cup, it wouldn'a make up lor
losing one of our evenings together,
Chrlssie.”
It was a great compensation, though,
when the morning of the race came for
the owner of the Clarlsse to know that
Chrlssie and her party who had taken 1
train to Farleigh, an hour’s Journey,
were enthusiastic spectators of the I
event.
Quite a crown of Langley people had
come by the same train to witness the
race which was making such a sensation
in the sporting world. Among them, to
Chrissle's disgust, she recognized the un
welcome face of Blakely.
As the hour for the start approached,
excitement touched fever heat.
The Glendower, a fine cutter of some
W tons, of the same class as Clarlsse,
had quite an array of cups and trophies
in her cabin, and her owner, MaJ. Dela
comhe, was confident of her success.
There was a tine southerly breeze, and
the yacht made a dashing picture as
under their clouds of white canvas, and
the water flashing under their keen bows,
they crossed the line at the sound of the
gun-. ' >
For a time it looked like a marvelously
close thing, neither yielding an inch.
With a lovely flush .of rich color mant
ling over her face, and sparkling eyes.
Chrlssie sitting between her uncle and sis
ter, looked on in silent rapt interest.
Now a little shadow is on her face—are
litr • yes deceiving her?—is the Glendower
really—
“Btavo! Bravo! Glendower ' lead*!"
suddenly shouts a whitb-whiskered old
gentleman with a white waistcoat and an
orchid in his button-hole.
"Aye, aye, Clarlsse is dropping astern!"
another exclaims.
Boor Chrissle’s lips quiver and she gives
a pitiful- little smile to hide the childish
moisture gathering In her eyes.
"Take anyone 5 to 3 on Glendower!"
cries the man with the orchid frantically.
I’ncle George gives a glance at Chrissie,
and shouts “Taken!” gallantly.
“I’m so sorry. Chriss," her sister whis
pers, "Harry is such a good fellow, and
he’s so wild about his yacht. He’ll be aw
fully cut up, I’m afraid."
And now as Glendower rounds the buoy
it is clear to every eye she is leading by
several lengths.
Both yachts have balloon Jib-topsails run
up it; stops from bowsprit-end to just be
low the color.
And as Glendower sweeps by the buoy,
as if- by magic the great white doul
swells out from her hows of her waist,
like a second wing the spinnaker shivers
up. and’ utuler the great press ofi ea-nvatS
she Is t anning free for home!<*v s ,
• Alter an interval Clarlsse follows suit.*
Dead silence falls on the watching crowd
as a thousand eager eyes con the yachts’
behavior under these new conditions.
"Can Clarisse hold her rival when before
the wind?"
The question is on every lip. The at.*,
swer is no.
“Bravo, Glendower—able to thrash her
able to beat or reach or run from her!"
Chrissie looks up and catches Blakely’s
eye an instant.
"Good-bve, Olarisse! Take a better craft
than you to catch her!” he adds with pet
ty spite.
Wider and wider grows the space be
tween the yachts. Boor Clartsse, absurd
little lass that she Is. is hardly able to
keep back the tears.
“K to " on Glendower!" offers the gentle
man with the orchid triumphantly.
"Taken!” again cries Uncle George
recklessly.
Two mile* more to the ’line' and Glen
dowi r is rushing on triumphantly rejoic
ing in her victory.
And now a darker shade appears In the
tossing M i tracts to seaward, a shadow
til eked with fierce little curls of w hite—
It Is wind.
In glides the shadow -swiftly, until it
strikes tin- yachts, and a gnat pillow of
foam swells nud'h'idy out under the roar
ing bows.
Fresher and fresher It Mows—sheets of
pray litxs o* -r the leaning decks -every
now and again the yacht* bury to th -ir
knigliihea ls In the rushes of foam-topped
Thi tanker of Gtendowen frowns under
Ids bushy eyebrows
"Ctarptae losses taller Weather, hanged
If she don't,’ to mutters dtsappolntriil)
And he t right <in and on they race,
Clartsse going through it grandly, she is
| a grand sen Inal, it is blowing half a gale
li.iikely’s face is ugly with Its dlsap-
I point meat- he t,ti.*> i.t* ,q>*
Chrissie with clasped hands and lips just
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22,- 1893.
narted, showing the pearly teeth, is >he
very incarnation of tremulous hope and
eagerness.
Yes. surely Clarisse is stealing up—she
is on her rival’s quarter—she is drawing
ahead—she Is shewing Glendower her taff
rail!"
"Hurrah—hurrah—hurrah!” houts Uncle
George, l.eside himself with excitement,
and waving his great straw hat in the
air.
Half an hour later Esmonde Is receiving
the congratulations of his friends on his
victory, and who shall blame him if the
sight of Chrissie's radiant face is too much
for him. and he makes an opportunity to
steal a kiss—half a dozen kisses—without
reproof.
Maj. Oe!acomt>e, a genuine sportsman,
joins the little dinner party which takes
place latter on in the winner's cabin, and
gives the toast "Clarisse!" very heart
ily.
It is dusk when the visitors go ashore,
just In time for the last train for Lang
ley.
The sky looks threatening, and a strong
wind shrills through the taught rigging.
”1. shall get under weigh at sunrise.”
Esmonde says; "and should be off Langley
in nice time to cross the bar with the even
ing a high water."
i '*••••••
"Why, Itiess* pay heart, • it's gone down
to says Uncle George, tapping the
barometer in the hall of Langley House
next'morning; "my word, that looks stor
my !Y
Cltyissie and her sisters are gazing from
the Tain-dashed windows over the labur
num tops at the vista of windy grey wa
ters, margined with yeasty white where
they touch the rocks.
From seaward comes a low thundrous
roar, ominous as the bellowing of a bull.
"< >b. Uncle, the bar is up, look at the
lint of breakers. I ilo hope the Clarisse
won't have started,” Chrissie says, trem
ulously.
“You may he sure she won't if there's
any risk, Harry’s a capital sailor, and
knows what he's about.
They stroll up to the Coastguard Sta
tion after lunch, and consult the chief
boatman.
"Lord bless me, no sir. not a bit of dan
ger!” the navy-man says, cheerily. "Blow
in' 'ard. cert-nly, an 1 dead on short. But
they'll only have to lime It proper when
they takes the bar. I've been down to see
the tide signalman to make certain, and
right and ready old Bill is sure enough.
You may lay vour life on it, sir, as he'll
down his red and up his green flag punc
tual to half a minute when it's tide top."
As the day wears on the gale increases,
heavy showers fall at intervals—the es
planade is deserted.
In the shelter of the thick yew hedge at
the bottom of the garden, Mr. Blakely
has been strolling up and down for an
hour or so, putting his well-colored meer
schaum.
Suddenly a head Is thrust through the
hedge from the lane beyond—a head with
a heaver cap on it, and under the cap a
bulldog face and projecting ears.
"Hi! HI!"
Blakely stops abruptly.
“Oh, that's you. Smith, eh? Well, what’s
up, now?”
"Straight tip, gov'nor! Real cert! Dead
bird."
•Yes?”
“Aye yes, guv-nor. When you guv me
that there tenner and promised another,
wot wos 1 to do fur it? Me and my pal
wos to knock agin Muster Hesmofide in
some snug spot, pick a row some'ow,
and guv 'im a right bashln'?"
"Yes. yes—well?" Blakely says, eagerly.
“Wall, gov'nor. they're more ways o’
killin' a dawg nor shootln’ ’lm, ain't there?
flow'd It suit your book to have that thye
gaudy craft of his cracked up and 'imsclf
run a olf chance of drowndin' and not a
soult the wiser?”
"Suit me well. Smith; well him!”
Blakely whispers flercely. "But how in
the devil's name?”
"Never you mind the 'ow, gov’nor—
that's my business. You leave it to me
and Bill, that's ail. When you pays a
dawg to bite fur you you needn't bite
yerself."
With which reassuring sentiment the
head withdraws stealthily, and Blakely
cbntinues his walk and his p.ipe.
* * * * * • •
Some two hours later the knot of sea
faring characters outside the Anchor
scanning the turbulent tracts to seaward,
sight -a sail standing In before the gale. •
Soon they can recognize the Clarisa
under short canvas, thundering along
grandly over the mountainous swell. The
powerful cutter crossing bar will be
a tine sight, and as the word spreads quite
a large group of spectators gather on the
quay.
Among the first to arrive are Chrissie.
with her sister and uncle.
"She’s timed it lovely,” declares an old
fisher-fellow. “Half after six now, and
high water’ll go afore seven.”
By the time the town hall clock chimes
7 the vaclit is tacking about within two
or three miles of the bar, waiting for the
signal to cross.
The sea runs very high, and the cutter,
heaving over to It. until the length of her
white deck is visible, and the red gold of
her sheeting flashes up luridly over the
long green wash, makes a fine sea pic
ture.
"It’s a queer old swell sets In yere,
mates,” a seaman observes; “If that there
clipper can’t work out agin’ It ’taint In the
power o’ canvas to do It. And she can’t,
mates—l’ve took marks, and Inch by inch
she’s failin’ to leeward. She couldn’t
ratch out the bay agin’ to save herself!”
"Aye, right you are. Bill. Only she’s
got bur little ’arbour on her lee, she’d
leave her bones on the rocks to-day.”
"There’s no danger, I trust, my men?”
queries Mr. Medhurst hastily, holding
his liat on with both hands and gazing
seaward with smarting eyes.
"Danger? Nav, never dread- sir! The
red flgg'U be downed d'recfly, and up
goes fne green, and in she comes."
Half-past seven strikes, and wonder
ing eyes are turned to the signal pole
far out on the seaward promontory. Still
the red color flies like a tongue of fire,
against the sullen grays and greens of
the seascape beyond.
"High water's goin' wortflerful late!" one
of the men says. "It should go at seven
by the tide table ” ,
“Ah' but you can't look at that. Alma
nac's no good for the bar. Tide varies
vere such a big lot accordin' to the w-ind
in the pilin'. Else where'd be the need of
Meantime the yacht has been palpably
falling in-before the great send of the
I sea and the fierce wind. "Couldn’t they
anchor for a bit?” Mr. Medhurst sug
g<"Not a bit o’ good, sir; bittom’s all
round stone and smooth as a lump o'
soap, bless you. An anchor'd only skeet
along over it."
And now the watchers grow momently
more anxious. Every eye is fixed on the
signal pole.
Still the red pennant flies.
"Or.We—itwice— ilUriqe—comes the clang
of the clock again.
"Quarter to eight! Why. here s a rummy
tle„ mates) High w’atyr went at half arter
si*, gestenlav, and if 'taint tide-top by
nawf'l’li eat hiy hat!”
The men look at each other amazedly;
then, as if by one impulse, a number of
them start off at a run in the direction of
the signal point. t
Ten minutes run and they arrive breath
less.
Above them the red flag sores In the
wind; on the sward beneath lies the green
in a bundle ready to hoist. But no sign
of the signal man anywhere!
One of the men hurries across to the
tide-pole, reads the figures on it up to
which-the water laps—reads and stares
aghast!
"Merciful heaven!’ he shouts, "there’s
well-nigh a* fathom gone already, mates
—tide’s been failin’ this hour!”
"It’s too late for her to take the bar
so." cry several together. "She’s a lost
Vessel!”
Wonder-stricken they enter the signal
man’s cottage, and there, lying on the
kitchen floor motionless, is old Bill Daw
son, the signalman!
"Stone drunk-that’s the story of it!"
says one, pointing to the table where
broken glasses and spilt liquor are plain
evidence of a recent debauch
"Telegraph station, boys, wire to Far
lelgh for the tug—bare chance she’d he
round In tune. That’s the last hope any
how !"
Tim honest fellows strain every nerve,
and In a very short time, poor chrissie,
wl has now heard of the deadly peril
of tie yacht, is listening to the click of
tit* Instrument la the |it oilier
Kv*ry trace of color flies from her face
a t he fa at mistress reads in a symjutthotta
w bikjs r;
"Regret no tug available. *Wrentier’ un
der r< pair*."
That ends all hope, rf sue, our- it Is
<*nl> ts.w for the group on the rain-swept
quay to watch the struggles of the doom.*!
cruft sgaiust lies large long swell wb cli
Is sitadlly driving lo r tuwaid lie r* ks
1 ids bin fur taklb' to the busts lour
ago." says an experienced coasting sailer.
"But they've bln standin' up to try to
round the Head, and they've got the Dead
Hand reef on their lee now. God help
them; the rockst line wouldn't reach them
there!"
On the last outward tack it had for a
time seemed possible that the powerful
cutter, splendidly handled as she was,
might still win round the Head by the
skin of her teeth.
But all of a sudden her sails hail dropped
and she lay “ahull"—helplessly falling in
before the swell.
Otic of those sudden lulls which often
puetde a fiercer blow had occurred.
"That settles it—she's a lost vessel now
at any rajisJ"-.the old coster muttered with
i sad cc r.vletion.
"Come away "Chrissie, darling,” her un- 1
cle said, gently. "My poor girl, it's not ;
right you should stay longer. He would 1
rather it if he could -peak to you.”
“Pretty well all U I’. men. I fancy?”
The sobbing girl, who has been staling
seawaro with ashen face, turns quickly !
as the light tones reach her.
Sitting in his dog-cart, a Carnation in \
his buttydiole, and an jvory field-glass
in his gUnrerkhand,,is Blikely. His satis- i
faction fe s# thinly dwi.-Jl that the girl's
blood boWTNtI her vein??'
"Aye, I'm a [Teased so-. Bin catched in
this yere lifll d?jhe reef has done for j
her! I*'*'looking jjffe a 'urrlcane to wind- i
'ard, and we-lt ha. e it within the hour. I
Hod help them, they’re Jost men."
Chrissie Hashes a glance Mazing with :
indignation at the occupant of the dog
cart i -> T,~ ,
The latter, brute that he Is, twirls his
well-waxed mustache, and smiles cyni- i
tally.
"Come away, my poor little girlie,” 1
says her uncle again, with wonderful
tenderness in his voice. He has not ob
served the cruel smile, and it is well,
for the old man's heart is big and as stick
as a stout ash plant.
As if to wring poor Chrissie's heart,
as they turn she sees the little Myostis
where she lies snug and safe by the
quay.
"She'd bump yere Miss, if the wind
wetsers any. So I've got up stream to
shiit her." Old Fred speaks for the
sake of speaking; his voice is low and
husky.
"Quite impossible to do anything, I un
derstand?” drawls Blakely again.
Chrissie’s heart swells at the cold con
ventional tones, ami the blood flames
through her veins.
On the instant, like the fish of an in
spiration, a thought strikes her.
Her color mounts, and her breath
comes quick.
She is on board the launch—she is whis
pering to Fred in a frenzy of excitement.
See the latter shakes his head sadly i
at first, and throws a hopeless glance
seaward; then, as if suddenly infected
by the girl’s enthusiasm, the cracky old
fellow all of a sudden starts up and roars
out his catch-cry that "They're sartinly
the most povyerfullost hengines that
hever, etc. etc.—and (dash, dash, dash),
him if he don’t!”
Next inomcU the Jdyosotis, with Chris
sie at the helm, is facing down the har
bor at such speed that a double Jet of
milkwhite spray sprouts up from her
cleaving bows.
As she approaches the strip of angry
white which marks the bar. speechless
amazement entrances the onlookers.
"Why, they can’t never think of—”
gasps the old coaster, rubbing his eyes.
He pauses, open mouthed, for even
as he speaks, the launch, under the strong
whirl of her screw, rushes In among the
breakers which leap and writhe and rave
all round, threatening momently to en
gulf her.
She is lost to sight now—even the brassy
glitter of her funeral with its white steam
pennon; men hold their breath in the
painful suspense; more than one of the
rough fellows lifts his hat; there are wet
eyes among the group.
When she reappears, and emerging from
the breakers rides sea-bird like on the
long blue swell beyond, a ringing cheer
goes up, and many a gruff “Thank God”
is heard.
Now soaring on the giddy green hights,
now lost In the yawning depths which
threaten momently to swallow her, the
tiny rescuer heads straight for the Cia
risse.
The latter dragging the anchors she has
dropped as a last resort, tosses helpless
ly now on the very verge* of the belt of
foam which fringes the Dead Hand reef.
But a few moments and she will be upon
it, driven to wreck by the long heave of
the sea, even before the theatening storm
has time to burst again.
But now the launch is alongside her,
has passed a line to her; It is hard to make
out what is happening between the heav
ing green masses; but another moment
and the launch glides forth ahead of the
yacht, and the flame that flashes up
through the ebony reek of smoke tells
she is putting frotn all her strength.
The old coaster stares, motionless, as a
statue; he has taken "marks.”
"She's drawin’ her—she's drawln' her, by
G—d! Ah, the little bully!" he shouts di
rectly, wild with excitement.
And he is right,
Engines groaing, steam hissing, flame
streaming from the funnel, shuddering*
to her very kelson, old Fred, showing like
a demon in the red glow of the furnace,
the gallant little Myosotls forges ahead,
winning her way, inch by Inch, seaward.
One clear mile or so to windward from
the position she presently has attained,
and the splendid task will be done—from
the point the cutter will look round the
Head toward Farleigh Harbor at the first
touch of the coming wind.
But she will never ilo It In time; see,
even now the swift-speeding storm is
marking out its track in white as It
roars in from the faraway offlng.
It is a race for life!
Thop three objects hold every eye
spellbound—the white line of the com
ing gale, the struggling vessels, and the
outline of the Dead Hand Reef still to
leeward of them!
The gazing seamen shake their heads
at last with sad decision. “She can never
do it!” one of them mutters despair
ingly.
Even as the words fall a fathom-long
tongue of fig me ttuttprs out again
above the funnel like a red pennon.
"He's chuckin' in the parratln, that's
wot it is! Hurrah Bravo, Fred!" shout
a chorus of voices.
Under the fresh impetus the motion
of the boat grows perceptibly faster.
But it is all too late, alas!
The foam line of the coming wind is
now within a few hundred yards—once
it strikes the cutter, the lauch, powerful
as her little engine are, will not hold
against it for a moment.
Another moment, and it is on them;
and surely the end has come!
But stay! See the Clarisee has hoisted
her canvas-mainsail, foresail, and jib
are set and sheeted home, steel-taunt.
See, she bends over to the gale, which
has now a touch of easting in it, she has
the launch In tow, the white foam dances
from her bows, and yes—no—yes—"Hur
rah, boys! hurrah, she looks right clear
of the Head!"
Cheer after cheer goes up, caps are
flung in the air, Madeline weens hyster
ically, and Uncle George hurries about,
apparently bent on shaking hands with
every man. woman and child in Langley.
Three hours later a wire from Far
leigh tells of their safe arrival in that
port.
* • * * • *
One word more.
Among the crowd on the quay had
stood the ruffian who had inveigled the
signalman into drink and drugged hint.
But Bill Muggins had been a sailor in
his time, and the sight of the deed of
splendid heroism of this second Graey
Darling had stirred even his pulses into
enthusiasm.
That night he proclaimed, waving his
pewler in the Anchor, that "that there
young woman wur the gloriousest young
young woman as ever hreath,"
further announcing his readiness for *he
small sum of fouri>enee to "wipe the
Hoc;” with anyone who should deny that
proposition; and adding, not as having
anv particular connection with the matter
in ham!, hut as a truth of general inter
est to the assembled comi>any that in his
(Bill Muggins’) opinion, "Muster Wlllum
Blakely wur a skunk!”
Starting from that point ugly rumors
began to spreud, so ugly in short, that to
anticipate, Blakely speedily found the
neighborhood growing too hot for him.
an I soon took his de[trfjre from Igtngley
for good and alt.
Chrissie Homers, whose inurrlag* to
Blent, Ksmonds took pl*r shortly after,
became, needless to say, the toast of every
yatcti dub on the coast.
Their recaption on their return to lattig
ley can lie essier imagined than described.
|r®r Bangh-y was salt to the foundations
of its weather-stained walls, and not an
Inhabitant of the little city by the sea
iiut felt a personal pride in the heroine
who by her Iwauly, her sweet dinging
woitii nllnees, and withal her aplet, iid
daring when the occasion railed foe n.
was pre-emlhcMtiy fitted to be "a sailor’s
bruit."
1 1 he Bad *
HANGS HIMSELF IN FUN.
CHICAGO MAX WITH A XECK AS
TO! till (S STEEL.
PrnctioM His Act Every Day—Gradu
ally Increases the Time During
W liieh He Remains Suspended.
Frightens a Fe110,,-Guest.
From the Chicago Tribute
A guest w-as walking through 'a hall at
the Grand Union hotel. He passed a door
which stood slightly ajar and casually
looked In. He stopped and paled. Within
the room a man was hanging himself. A
rope was suspended from the bedpost and
the noose was tightly drawn about his
neck. Bounding into the room the first
man shouted:
“Great heavens, man, what are you do
ing?”
“Practicin',’* wds the matter of fact re
ply-
"My God, this is horrible,” exclaimed the
guest, as he rushed Into the hall for
help. Not finding anyone he darted back
into the room and fumbled nervously for
his pocket knife, " *' '
“Think we'll have Winter?” came
from the suicide.
"The weather next winter won't bother
you unless I cut you down," exclaimed the
rescuer as he opened his knife and grasp
ed the rope.
The man in the nose quickly clapped
his feet on the floor, pulled his six feet of
bone and muscle together, and stood smil
ing on his thoroughly perplexed visitor.
"So you thought I'd called it off and
taken the necktie route?” he said, as he
removed the noose. “No, my friend, I'm
not ready to mix it up with the coroner
just yet. 1 hang myself three times a day
regularly. Been at It now for nearly six
months. You see, it's my business. Now,
sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.
My name is Jacob Wolrtln, and I hall from
Evansville, Ind., where my mother and
relatives still live. When a boy I dis
covered that I possessed a remarkably
strong neck, and I used to test it and
strengthen it In many ways. About five
years ago I saw a man hanged. The fall
of seven feet did not break his neck, and
he slowly strangled to death. I knew the
criminal, and I knew that my neck was
more powerful than his, and It set me to
thinking. I procured a strap and prac
ticed more or less systematically for
years, pulling the strap tighter and tighter
about tny neck, until finally I found that
I could not pull it tight enough to close
my windpipe and stop my respiration.
“An accident greatly increased my con
fidence in my neck, and induced me to ap
ply the hangman s noose as a steady diet.
A year ago I fell thirty-three feet from
the St. Louis bridge, striking my head
squarely on a piece ot heavy timber. They
picked me up for dead, assuming, as a
matter of course, that my head was bro
ken. The surgeons, who found that my
skull was fractured and collar bone bro
ken, but my neck unharmed, declared
that I had a neck of steel. I was out of
the hospital in four days, and immediate
ly procured this three-fourth inch rope—
the regulation hangman's size—and have
daily practiced in secret with it.
"When I first began I could endure my
weight on the noose for only thirty sec
onds, when my windpipe would (Close up
an<j bring me down to terra tlrma in a
hurry. 1 have gradually increased the
limit, and can now swing for two minutes
and keep up respiration. By holding my
breath I can easily go longer against time.
In my practice I have slawly developed
what may be considered the most re
markable thing about me. By a strong
exercise of my will power I can suddenly
condense all or nearly all the strength
of my entire body into the muscles of the
neck, which at once become enlarged and
firm as bands of steel. Before proceeding
to do business with the noose I quickly
expand my neck from its normal dimen
sions, about
have in this way so hardened and enlarg
ed those muscles that my voice has be
come a trifle thick and husky, as you
notice.”
"Did you ever try a bout with the sheriff
and his* gallows—voluntarily, of course?”
"No; but I’m willing to go against
them. Yes, I’ll wager Cook county's
sheriff that I can stand in the gallows
from which Lyons dropped into eternity
the other day, have the drop jerked from
under me, fall the seven feet, be cut
down at the expiration of three or four
minutes, and be no worse for the experi
ence.
“Well, I must proceed with my practice,
which you interrupted, thinking you
were saving my life. If you like you can
act as spectator and timer, only don’t get
excited again and imagine I’m shuffling
off or continuing to dance too long. Keep
your seat and get out your waten.”
The visitor, by this time convinced that
this man was not only sane, but a highly
interesting phenomenon, readily com
plied. Wolflln fastened the end of his
“necktie" to the bedpost, calmly adjust
ed the noose about his neck, placing the
knot under the left ear, just as the hang
man does.
"Time! I'm off,” said Woiflin, his feet
leaving the floor and his neck bearing
with apparent east his 185 pounds.
Two minutes later the athlete’s feet
struck the floor and he walked about
laughing and apparently no worse for his
bout with the hemp. The mark of the
noose soon disappeared from his neck,
which quickly becafne normal in size and
color.
“You look like a strong man," re
marked Woiflin, as he replaced the noose
about his neck. "Now place your left
hand on the knot and pull with all your
might with your right. Don’t be afraid;
you can't close my windpipe."
The bulge in the neck was again in evi
dence as the other man strained and tug
ged at the rope until Wolftn showed that
his larynx and windpipe were still capable
of doing business. He said two strong
men had pulled together on the rope wttn
out hurting him a particle.
“Here’s my side line.” said Wolfin, as
he raised his long right arm above his
head and brought his clenched fist down
with all his power on the pit of the stom
ach. “That particular section of the
anatomy’ Is known in the geography of the
fighters as ‘below the belt,’ and so sensi
tive and tender is it that it has always
been a foul and a forfeit of the fight to
strike a man there. I’ll let Fitzsimmons
pound me there until he gets tired and
he can’t floor or injure me. After ac
quiring the ability to inject all my strength
into the muscles of the neck I discovered
by practice that I could transfer it to
the muscles protecting the stomach. In
this way I have deVeleped and hardened
them until I .eonsiderAhem almost as in
vulnerable to blows as a castlron boiler."
From bis constant practice of throwing
all his strength into a given muscle Wol
fln says he has almost unconsciously cul
tivated the application of the same prin
ciple to the organs of sense. For Instance,
he has found that by closing his eyes,
turning a stopcock on his senses of smell
and taste, by a vigorous use of will power,
he can accentuate his heaping capacity.
Bounds to which he was before entirely
oblivious reach him with distinctness.
Wolfin Is 3ft years old. unmarried, stands
6 feet m Inch in his stockings, and has
much the build of Corbett. He is a man
of the world, gentlemanly, modest and
intelligent, and has been chiefly employed
as a traveling and railroad man.
Living Posters.
From the Chicago Tribune.
The newest of all new things—newer
than the new woman even—is planned for
the annual promenade concert of the
Visiting Nurses' Assoeiatlon to be given
st the First regiment armory next week.
The living poster has never been seen,
either in Chicago or anywhere else. Th
orlginals to la- reproduced are selected
from the works of Chenet, Grasse; and
Butree, Dudley Hardy and Beardsley and
Ithead. The living posters -ill be adver
tised by s special poster which |* being
designed for the committee by an artist
at the art institute. Copies of this poster
will be on sale, and those who have been
favored with a view of It say It Is a
charming creation and aimoat a portrait
of one or the women who will take part in
the representation. Tins poster is under
the supervision of Mrs C P. Abbot
The tableaux will Ijs- exact f, productions
of theWirlgtnsil postefs. and will be shown
in frames alter the fashion of pictures
The background will t>e patmed in and
th* figures will b* dune by a numb** ,f
young women who are almost dally rs
iaarfliif in their decidedly difhouil rules
tTHE SECRET 013
LIES IN' TIIE USE OF
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The Only Real B eautifiers of the Complexion, Skin and Fern,
These Wafers and Soap are simply wonderful for rei.„„ i. "
FRECKLES. MOTH, BLACKHEADS, PIMPLES. 111, ,5
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other facial disfigurements ’ a, l
Wafers by mail. Sl.OO; 6 boxes, *5.00. Soap by mail, 50 cent
SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS.
Address all letters to H. B. FOCLD. 214 Sixth Avenue. New Yrv
Feware of all other so-called" Arsenic PREPARATIONS
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Correspondence Strictly confidential.
Plant System
Time Card In Effect Dee. 15. 1895. Time shown at Savannah 90th Meridian—Oa.
• hoar slower than city time.
NORTH POUND
Lv Savannak-L'M.S af gr Port floyal l:pm daily except Sunday. Ar Chari?;
4A ton 5:24 pm. At Fayetteville *lO pm. Ar Richmond 3:40 am, Ar Warhin
7:ooam. Ar Baltimore 8:20 am. Ar Philadelphia 10:48 am. Ar New York'] i
, pm, Ar Boston 8: SO ptn Through Pullman Buffet Sleeping Car service be;w.-,"i>
DAILY Port Tampa and New York via West Coast and Jacksonville and New York
Lv Savannah 12:10 night. Ar Charleston 5:03 am. Ar WUmington lT 50 a m~7
70 Fayfflteville 10:55 am. Ar Richmond 6 45 pm, Ar Washington 11:10 p m Ar B,i
/© more 17:48 night. Ar Philadelphia 3:45 am. Ar New York 8:51 am: Ar Bostoi
300 p m Through Pullman Buffet Sleeping Car service between Port Timn,
DAILY New York via Jacksonville. __
6 Lv Savannah 8:00 aim Ar Yemassee 9:10 am. Ar Port Koval liTTo >a i? X?
Augusta 11:20 a m. Ar Charleston 11:30 am. Through day coach service bSiween
Savahnah and Augusta. Connections to Port Royal and Augusta daily except Sua
DA ILY day.
SOUTH BOUND.
T.v Savannah t:OD am. Ar Jesup 2:36 am. ar Brunswick 7:15 am via South'
ern Railway. Ar Macon 8:25 a m. Ar Atlanta 11:45 am. Ar Chattanooga 9:15 n m
AfJ Ar Cincinnati 7:30 am, Ar Nashville 1 ft a ra. Ar Waycross 3:50 a m. Ar Jackson’
J A I vllle 7:00 am. ArPalatka 10:20 am. Ar Gainesville 10:15 am. Ar St. Augustin*
10:15 a m. Ar Ocala 11:55 am, Ar Sanford I 15 pm. Ar Suwanee 6:14 am, Ar live
Oak 6:26 a ra. Ar Tampa 2:30 p m, Ar T. B. Hotel 2:45 pm. Ar Port Tamna
DAILY 3:2opm. Through Pullman Buffet Sleeping Car service between New York and
Port Tampa via Jacksonville and Cincinnati and Jacksonville via Jesup and >i a .
vannan to Jacksonville, open for passengers at 9 p m.
Lv savannah 8:08 am Ar Jesup 929 am, Ar Waycross 10 2)4 ra, Ar Brunswick
12:40 p m. Ar Tifton 12:45 p m. Ar Albany 2:2opm.Ar Macon 4:40 pm Ar Atlanta fr,
£m. Ar Chattanooga 1:00 am. Ar Nashville 6:25 ans. ArCinoinnati 4:20 p m .ar st
ouis 7 J 0 pm. Ar Chicago 0:55 a ro.Ar Jacksonville 12:30 pm. Ar St. Augustine h Cos
BP p m, Ar Suwanee 12:46 p tn. Ar Live Oak 12:58 p m Ar Laiaes
viile 3:20 p m. Ar Ocala 5:40 p m, Ar Tampa 8:00 p m, Ar T. B Hotel
8:15 p m, Ar Port Tampa 8:45 p m. Ar Valdosta 12:33 p m, Ar Thotnasvilla
1:39 pro. Ar Montgomery 8:45 p in. Ar Mobile 3:05 am. Ar New Orleans 7: to am
I Ar Birmingham 12:01 night. Ar Nashville 6:40 am. Ar Louisville 12:27 noon Ar
DAILY St. I.outs 7:20 pm. Ar Cincinnati 4: tO p tn. Ar Chicago 6:55 a m Through Pull
man Buffet Sleeping Car service between Jacksonville and Cincinnati via Waycross
and Montgomery and from New York to Port Tampa via West Coast and New
York to Jacksonville. This train makes steamship connection at Port Tampa fo-
Key West and Havana, leaving Port Tampa atibSO p m on Mondavs and Thursdays
Lv Savannah 2 pm, Ar Jesup 3:46 p m. Ar Waycross 5 p m. Ar Brunswick ; 10
A I p m. Ar Jacksonville 7:30 p m. Ar Palatka 10:55 p m. Ar Sanford 2:50 a in. Ar Su-
1 wanee 8:43 p m, Ar Live Oak 9:03 p m. Ar Ocala 3:20 a m. Ar Tampa 8 a m. Ar T B
Hotel 8:20 am, Ar Port Tampa 8:50 am. Pullman buffet sleeping car service from
DAILY | Waycross to Port Tampa, via West Coast and via Jacksonville.
Lv Savannah 7:00 pm. Ar Jesup 8:47 pm. Ar Waycross 10 pm, Ar Tifton 12 39
_ _ night, Ar Maeon 2:15 am. Ar Atlanta 5:00 am. Ar Chattanooga 9:45 am. Ar Nash
E 7 vllle 7:2 > p m. Ar Cincinnati 7:35 p m. Ar St. Louis 72)
XF • am. Ar Chicago 7:15 a tn, Ar Valdosta 11:54 p m. Ar Thomas
vllle 1:11 a m. Ar Montgomery 7:50 am. Ar Mobile 4:10 pm, Ar New Orleans
8:80 pm, Ar Birmingham 11:85 am. Ar Nashville 7:25 pm, Ar Loulsviile 2:21 a m
DAILY Ar St - Louis 7:20 am. Ar Cincinnati 6:50 am. Ar Chicago 10:15 am. Through Pulp
man Buffet Sleeping Car service between Jacksonville and Nashville via Waycross
Tifton. Macon and Atlanta: Jacksonville and St. Louis via Waycross and Monw
gomery and Port Tampa and Montgomery.
J Daily except Sunday. Lv Savannah 5:30 a m for Waycross and intermediata
Xw v § stations.
Trains 6. 57, 21 and 307 and their connections make all local stops.
Trains from the East and North arrive in Savannah as follows: No. 23, 12:50 night daily:
No. 35, 7:46 a m dally: No. 5, 6:45 p m daily.
Trains from the West and South arrive in Savannah as follows: No 58, 8:45 a m daily; No
32, 12:49 p m dally; No. 306,5:25pm dally except Sunday; No. 36 daily, 8:30pm; No 78, 11:45 n
m daily.
Tickets sold to all points and sleeping car berths secured at passenger station and ticket
office De Soto Hotel. Telephone No. 73
J. W. CARR. District Pass Agent. E. A ARMAND, City Ticket Agent.
B. W. WRENS'. Pass. Traffic Manager. H. C. McFADDEN. Aset Gen. Pass. Agt.
Florida Central & Peninsular Railroad Cos.
(Trains run oq.lOih meridian time, which is one hour slower than Savannah oily timed
1 iine 'Table ill T.ttect Dec. 15, 1895.
Train I Tra.n i Train Tram
NpRTIL 36 I 38 SOUTH. 35 37
Lv Jacksonville 7 620 pm 7& am Lv New York 12 15 am 430 pm
Lv Fernandina *6Bopm 7 10am :Lv Philadelphia.... 850 am 655 pm
Lv Yulee 706 pm 815 am Lv Baltimore 622 am 92Jpm
Lv Brunswick 6 00pm 9 00am jLv Washington..... 1115 am lOlipta
Lv Everett 845 pm 955 am |Lv Asheville
Lv Danen 440 pm 830 am !Lv Spartanburg
Ar Savannah 10 40 pm 1142 am Lv Columbia Ilb am 12 10 pm
Lv Savannah 10 50 pm j 11 50 am Ar Savannah 6>o am ♦SO pc
Ar Fairfax, S. C 12 55 am 141 pm Lv Savannah 6 3atn 4 pm
Ar Augusta Ar Darien 1158 am, 907 pm
Ar Denmark, S. C 142 am 225 pm Ar Everett 720ami 653 pm
Ar Columbia, S. C 330 am 400 pm Ar Brunswick 815 ami 810 pm
ArSpartanburg.S.C Ar Yulee 8 5Sm 852 mn
Ar Asheville, N. C lAr Fernandina 9 30mi 925 pm
Ar Charlotte. N. C 825 am 820 pm Ar Jacksonville 945 am I 935 pm
Ar Salisbury. N. C 1020 am 938 pm lArLalteClty U.39am .'
Ar Greensboro, N. C. 12 05pm 10 48 pm 1 Ar Live Oak 1225 pm
Ar Danvtlle, Va 180 pm 12 00 n’t Ar Monicelio 245 pm
Ar Richmond, Va 63pm 600 am jAr Tallahassee 335 pm
Ar Lynchburg, Va 335 pmL 153 am Ar River Jutyction.. 515 pm
Ar Charlottesville, Va 54a pm 885 am Ar Pensacola 1100 pm
Ar Washington 940 pm 642 am Ar Mobile 106 ain ..
Ar Baltimore 11?* pm 805 am Ar New Orleans 735 am
M ISSUE -.f ilO pm 12 48 am
Ar Boston Vwi£m Ar Gainesville 135 pm 10Mam
Ar Mostop 1,00 pm 880 pm A r Ocala 210 pm 3 (Barn
NOTE—'Daily except Sunday. AU other train 8 Ar Leesourg 357 pm] 605 am
daily. Ar Orlando 545 pm] 95) am
Sunday only—Leave Fernandina 4:55 p m ~—~—■* ■■■■ ■
. Ar Plant City I 546 pm 718 am
Ar Tampa | 645 pm; 830 am
ElegantPuilman buffet sleepers Tampa and New Yorg without change on trains 38, 37, con
necting at Charlotte with Washington and Southwestern limited train. Also through coacli
Jacksonville and Charlotte. Charlotte and Washington on these trains
Pullman buffet sleepers Jacksonville and New York on trains 35 and 31 without change
Trains ,v> and 36 runnint through bet ween Jacksonville and Charlotte witnout change.
Pullman buffet sleeper Jacksonville to New Orleans, connecting with train 35 from Savannah
t°7 , 'iL 1 ?. , £7S a . t iS?-? p^ ly ip A °- MacDONELL. G. P. A.. Jacksonville, Fla
N. S. PENNINGTON, Traffic Manager, Jacksonville. Pis.
_.. . . ~ , . . , !■ M. FLEMING, Division Passenger Agent, Savannah, Oa.
tickets to ail points and sleeper accommodations secured at city officer, corner Bull ad
Bryan streets and Central depot. Savannah. Ga.
T rains leave from Central depot, corner West Broad and Liberty streets.
_ D. C. ALLEN. City Ticket Agent
Central of Georgia Railway Company.
In Effect Dec. S, 1893,
GOING WEST—READ DOWN.| * IGOINU EAST-READ UP-J]
No. 9 No. 7 No 3 No. 1 ; Central "NoTI No.~4 — No. 8 No. W
except 1 ex daily daily ; or ex except
Sun. J Sun 90th Meridian Time. daily daily Sun Sun
SOilpm 600 pm 900pm 1 9 00am Lv Savannah Ar 600pmI 530m748am 4 50pm
Jtopm 700 pm ol*pm 1005 am Ar Guyton By’ 458 pm 430 am 648 am 3pia
i !?^ 5m !! ?9 am !Ar RoekyFord Bv! 3 40pm| 322 am
*'^P m A**®*" 1 At... Milieu Lv 814 pm 2 55am
• iAm?™ BCopm Ar ..Atlanta... Bv; 7 SOam 7 00pm
- *>*"" Ar... JflMkit'g Bv eaam
savanNaM, bToNS, amerigus and Montgomery—Daily
f 4 25 pm 700 am By Savannah. ArF* , 7 am
845 pm ■ 955 am Ar Lyons. .. . ’.Bvi 455 pm 535 am
pm Ar Amerßig Bvl 1200 m
**** P m l Ar Montgomery ••"Lv .15 am; -
— c— ....—iuunigomery ""Lv ,15 am:
Trains marked Tun daily. Trains marked S run Su’nday onlv.
IT rains marked + run daily except Sunday. y *
3'“*; ® hown j® 9° th meridian, one hour slower than Savannah city time.
Steen taw elu'^on^nbrh na .k’ Maoo, b Atlanta and between Savannah and Augusta
vannH^lP! Q foJl^o 0n a l **! 1 trams between Savannah and Augusta. Savannah and Macon.
vannah and Atlanta. Parlor cars between Macon and Atlanti
Ticket offl.-e 19 Bull street and depot. Atlanta.
, For ,ur,her Information and for schedules to points beyond our line, apply to tick
J. C. HAILE General Passenger Agent. Savannah. Ga.
W F shfiiuiv THEO. D. KLIN?:, General Superintendent.
n. r. SHELI.MAN, Traffic Manager J. C.SHA W, Traveling Passenger Ayn- _
mcdonouch * ballantyne,
„ k IRON FOUNDERS, MACHINISTS,
Blacksmiths, Bollarmakers, Manufacturers of Stationery and Portable
engines, Vertical and Top Running Corn Mills, Sugar Mills and Pans,
no PULL EV§, ETC.
FLAT OPENING BLANK^BOOK^-C"
CALL dNIy HtE TUB
“PERFECT.”
. ' —the newest, the best.
kklßAAf>rf tZZZZSiaJiZXr rta ‘* l *" *k <b* •*lg look rough
Morning New* Job Department,

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