Gloucester County Democrat., November 23, 1893, Image 1

About Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932

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PRICE-$1.50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE. THE CONSTITUTION—THE BASIS OF OUR LAWS AND LIBERTIES SINGLE COPY FIVE CENTS.
VOLUME XVI. _WOODBURY, N. J., THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1893. NUMBER 15
I
Fine Cabinet Photographs
S2 PER DOZEN
By presenting this advertisement
RCQiXAS PRICr.-83.0O.
DON’T rnprtFT _
That You can find at Starr’s the best assortment of
MEN’S and BOY’S wear.
GLOVES of all prices
SHIRTS and DRAWERS of all prices.
SHIRTS, White and Coloied of all kinds.
COLLARS and CUFFS oi the best quality.
STOCKINGS at verv low prices.
BED BLANKETS of all colors.
HORSE BLANKETS of all weights.
And to Cap All at the Very LOWEST PRICES.
CL STARR
Greens Block.
198 Broad street,.Woodbury, N. J.
THET SPEAK EOK THEMSELVES.
-H. KAYSER
ONE PRICE HATTER,
10 SOUTH SECOND ST. (two,uS£!ct^qW; PHI LA.
J\[0 HORE COLD FINGERS
O’Connor’s Patent Harness Fastener
EASILY ADJUSTED, WON’T BREAK, CHEAPER
fi i than Leather at i cent a pair.
Agents—Good live hustlers, wanted in Salem, Cumberland and
Cape May Counties. Address
WOODBURY MANFG. CO. - WOODBURY, N. J.
C. SELDEN JOHNSON
Justice of the Peace,
Real Estate, Insurance and Collection Agency,
j No. 6 Cooper 8t., Woodbury, N. J.
Telephone No. 36. Notary Public
Books and Accounts Settled. Money to Loan on First Mortgages
Legal Papers carefully prepared in type-written form.
Sales made or clerked i
On Reasonable Terms.
Real estate for sale or to
Rent in Various Localities.
RENTS AND CLAIMS COLLECTED,
And prompt returns of same duly made.
Insurance Effected in First-Class Companies.
H.G.GREEN,Berkley,N.J.
Be^s to call the attention of the public that in connection with the
1 COAL AND LUMBER BUSINESS
-He has opened up a
Saw, Planing and Feed Mill.
All kinds of Feed ground on Tuesday's and Friday’s. A large stock
of rongb and manufactured Lumber constantly on band
t for building and repairing purposes
PORE LEHIGH GOAL.
Call and Examine my Stock
I P. O Address C'larksboro.
One Hundred Presents
WILL BE GIVEN TO #
m THE FIRST ONE HUNDRED #
% PERSONS WHO GUESS IN
OUR NEW CONTEST JUST OPENED,
. Send for blank and instructions.
GLOBE ASSOCIATION, - SEWELL, H. J.
ID. IRa H^ISTTHIO^nsr
-DOES THE
% Best Cemetery Work!
Yards on Cooper Street,
^V'oodfoury, N" J.
■^Examine His Work and Get His Prices.
Official Figure*. Commercial Values if
GAUGH’S fW MANURES
BtAbush*, |S35. Pbefabedot
3AUG-H cfc SONS COMP’Y
— Okiuinai. Mancfacthbibs or Kao Honk Mani'bbs—
WobBS:—DELAWARE RIVER CHEMICAL WORKS, Foot of Morris to Moore Sts,
OrricK:—ilO S. Delaware Ave.. PHILADELPHIA.
tTjr Note the following recent Commercial Valnations by the Penna. State Board of Agrlcultnrau
t 'J- 'I’he selling prices are several dollars a ton lower, /. o. b., Philadelphia.
PURE HAW BOMB MEU, - . . - *41.71 per tore. ,
ffl^^OLVEP BOME81 “ . "*■ • ' ** 39.01 M I Cummere1
POTATO ttAHJRE<18 to lljtActnalTotaah) 39.23 « ( Valves 1
DOUBLE EAGLE PHOSPHATE, - 30.29 « f Penna.
ANIMAL BONE $25 PHOSPH ATE - - 29.93 « i State Boa i t
Also HIGH GRADE ACID PHOSPHATE, - - 23.23 « J
tty* Send for fort her information and lowest prices.
BAUGH'S RAW BONE MANURES
—FOR SALE BY—
J. F. Nute ifc Son. Frnnklinville.
V ADVERTISE m THE DEMOCRAT.
SUBSCRIBE FOR THE DEMOCRAT
Caterer »<> Restauranter
A. W. CLAPHAM,
255 S. Broad Street, Woodbury, N. J.
WEDDINGS AND SOCIAL. GATHER
INGS Catered for and supplied with delicacies
of all kinds. My long experience enables me to
guarantee efficient service in this line.
-MEALS AT ALL HOURS—
At my restaurant. A trial respectfully solicited
Jan. 19, 1898.-1 . W. A. CLAPHAM
WOODBURY PRIVATE SCHOOL,
RE-OPENS SEPTEMBER 5th.
For Circulars address CURTIS J. LEWIS,
WOODBURY, N. J.
June 29. ’f3—4m.
FO m* SALE!
A house and lot on Dare street, Woodbury, N.
J , in find-class order, newiy paided and paper
ed. Also house and lot on Lincoln St., nearly
new These are both very desirable properties,
and will be sold at a bargain.
A number of other desirable properties for sale
-(o)-(o)
RENTS, INTEREST, Etc., Collected.
Real Estate Sold, Rented or Exchanged.
Fire insurance effected in the most advantageous
Companies by
William M. Carter,
StraVEYOB AND CONVEYANCES,
127 S. Bboad St., WOODBURY. N. J
GOLD, ^SILVER - and - CHATELAINE
.-.WATCHES/.
Of the most Improved and Reliable patterns.
SOLID SILVER and SILVER PLATED
ware. Clocks, Spectacles, and
Jewelry in every style.
Watches, Clocks and Jewelry Repaired
and Warranted.
Large Assortment of CHRISTMAS PRESENTS
at LOW PRICE8.
R. Gr. PORTER,
ESTABLISHED 1877.
132 SO. BROAD ST.
Opposite Court House Woodbury, N. J.
DR. A. GROFF’S
CELEBRATED
ZXIXX
Pennsylvania - dutch
HORSE, CATTLE and
Poultry Powder.
Thousands who have used ie indorse it as the
best in the market. For HEAVES it has no
equal. By the use of this Powder Ho* Cholera
has been kept away. An excellent blood puri
fier. Sold by grocers and druggists.
WM. S. OATTELL OO.
Sole owners and Manufacturers
WOODBUBY, - NEW JEBSEY.
Etchings,
Pastels,
Steel
Engravings,
Water
Colors,
Paintnigs,
Etc., Etc.
Easels,
Picture
Frames,
Parlor
Mirrors
IN ALL THE
Modern and
Intiqne Styles.
GEO. C. NEWMAN. ADOLPH NEWMAN.
D. W. Conway
Undertaker & Embalmer
No. 297 S. Broad Street,
WOODBURY, N. J.
PROMPT ATTENDANCE AT ALL HOURS
As I am going to establish here in Woodbury,
I want to say that I am prepared to furnish all
kinds of Caskets and Coffins at short notice.
Also to do all kinds of repairing and cabinet
work in all its branches.
Trusting that 1 may prove a true and faithful
servant to the public, I am respectfully,
D. W. CONWAY.
B. F. SWEETEN. F. B. SWEETEN.
B. F. SWEETEN & SON,
BRIDGE BUILDERS
And General Contractors.
Steam Pile Driving, Oulverting
Grading and Paving.
M 6 and 8 NortI Stand Stmt
CAMDEN, N J.
Engines and Pumps to Hire.
Y J- KICK.
Practical Steam & Gas Fitter,
WOODBURY, N. J. (Next door to Newton's
Hotel.
FM-CUSSPLDMMG A SPECIALTY
Bouse-Draining,
-and Ventilation.
ALL WORK GUARANTEED.
June 17 '87
j^STABLINHED IN 1857.
Newell & Ridgway,
{.Successors to Newell & Bro.) linporteisof
WINES AND LIQUORS
AND DEALERS IN
FINE OLD_WHI8KlE8,
Stores No. II and 13 N. Front St.,
PHILADELPHIA.
A choice selection for family and medicinal
nee. PURITY GUARANTEED.
P#B BENT.
For Information in regard to renting the Store
Property at 196 South Broad Street, inquire of
W. A. WILSON £ CO..
Jnly «, ’9S-tf Woodbury. N. J.
J^OTICK OF SETT1.F.MF..\T.
Notice is hereby given lhat the account of
Maurice Hayes, surviving Executor of the estate
of Morty Havre, deceased, will be audited by the
Surrogate and reported for settlement to the
Orphans’ Court of the County of Gloucester, on
Friday, November 24th, 1898,
MAURICE HAYES.
„ , Surviving Executor.
Dated Surrogate’s Office, Sept. 26th, 1893.
Mrs. Mary K. O’Fallon
of Piqua, O., says the Phy
sicians are Astonished,
and look at her like one
Raised fromjhe Dead
Long and Terrible Illness
from Blood Poisoning
Completely Cured by Hood’s
Sarsaparilla.
Mrs. Mary E. O’Fallon, a very intelligent
lady of Piqua, Ohio, was poisoned while as
sisting physicians at an autopsy 5 years ago,
and soon terrible ulcers broke out on her
head, arms, touguc and throat. Her hair all
came out. She weighed hut 78 lbs., and saw
no prospect of help. At last she began to
take Hood’s Sarsaparilla and at once im
proved ; could soon get out of bed and walk.
She says: ’■ I became perfectly cured by
Hood’s Sarsaparilla
and am now a well woman. I weigh 128 lbs.,
eat well and do the work for a large family.
My case seems a wonderful recovery and
physicians look at me in astonishment, as
almost like exe mined from the dead.”
HOOD’S PlLLS should be in every family
medicine chest. Onco u*«d, always preferred.
Professional and Business Cards
■yyji. c. t'ATTEi.1,
Surveyor, Conveyancer
REAL ESTATE and Instance Agent
P. O. Box 6 WENOaAH,
Oct. 12, 1893.ly N. J.
J^R. STEIN BOCK,
~~ DENTIST.
1630 N. 12th Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
Painless extracting teeth with nitrous oxide
gas, 50 cents. Artificial teeth and gold fillings a
specialty. All work guaranteed. Ked cable car,
toot of Market 8t.. takes you to the door.
June 29,1893—lyr.
J^B. THOMAS LEE,
Physician and Surgeon,
Corner Delaware and Harrison Sts., Woodbury
( 8 to 10 a. x.
OFFICE HOURS-? 2 to 4 p.m.
f and evenings.
Special treatment of Stomach and Nervous
diseases. Feb. 9,1893—tf.
g H. RICHARDS.
Attorney-at-Law,
OFFICE—106 Market Street,
Camden, - - New Jersey.
Residence, Bridgeport, N. J, 6-92-y
'yyil.JIF.K B. HAINES,
Contractor and Builder.
Glassboro, IV. J
Plans and Estimates furnished on application,
nov. 19, ’91-ly
^USTIS H. 8WACKHAMEB,
Counsellor-at-Law,
And Master id Chsacery. Green’s New
Building, No. 6 Cooper Street. Woodbury. New
Jersey. June 2. ’87
J~^B. €. T. BENNETT,
Dentist, Woodbury, N. J.
OFFICE on Broad St. opposite the Court
House, second floor. Office hours from 8 to 12
A. M anfl 1 to 5 P. M. every week day except
Tuesdays. Residence on Newton Ave. tiret door
on the right from Broad St.
g FRANK BICKLEK,
Auctioneer,
TUBNERVILLE. NEW JERSEY.
P. REYNOLDS,
Carpenter and Builder,
WOODBURY, N. J. Estimates and plans
furnished.
g VISING KR
Auctioneer and Contractor.
Bridges and Wharves built and repaired, by
contraet or day work. P. O. address,
BRIDGEPORT. N. J.
Jan. 23, ’90. P. O. Box 67.
J^BDB’S NEW
Livery and Feed Stables,
Newton’H Hotel, Woodbury, N. J.—
New Carriages and elegant driving horses always
ready for use. A trial respectfully soli
cited. July 21, ’89.
JOSEPH F. SITJLEY’S
Heal Estate Agency,
WESTVILLE AND NEWBOLD.
Properties cared for. Rents Collected, Insurance
Placed, prompt returns made.
Feb. 23, ’93-ly
PHILADELPHIA IMMIGRANT
Employment Bureau.
Notice to Farmer*!.
All kinds of help, male or female always on
hand, direct from the steamers, English, Irish,
Scandanavian*. Germans, Poles and Hungarians.
Apply at the office of
KNOLL, 4fc 8EIYE11TT,
943 SOUTH 2nd St. Philadelphia. 4-27-93-1 j.
-ESTABLISHED 1855
Charles Fichtel & Son,
HT- JEWF.LEIW -«*
Nr. 516 S. Second St, Philadelphia.
Dealers in Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, Silver
and Plated ware.
Special attention paid to repairing, and ALL
WORK GUARANTEED.
QHA8. E. VON STEGE,
Carpenter and Builder,
WOODBURY, N. J.
Plans and specifications furnished. Mover of
buildings. Jack screws to hire. Buildings hois
ted and raised. May 18, 48fcM>m
JOHN H. CARPENTER,
Plain and Dscorative Paper Hanger.
Calls attention of all who need work in his line
that he will promptly attend to all orders by mail
or otherwise, and guarantee satisfaction.
WINDOW SHADES of all kinds on band and
all kinds of Wall Decoration attended to prompt
ly. Trial order respectfully solicited.
POPULAR PRICES.
Estimates given. P. O. Box 74. Residence, 23 Oak
8treet, North Woodbury.
JOHN H. LUPTON,
-FLORIST
6R0WEB OF PLANTS & CUT FLOWERS
Woodbury Greenhouse,
WOODBURY. (417,’90-y) NEW JERSEY
Look at This !—■mmm
SHEPP’S WORLD’S FAIR
Photographed. THE FINEST VIEWS of the
“ White City” ever published. Bound in a hand
some and serviceable volume.
ALFRED S. MARSHALL,
BOARD STRUT PHARMACY GREEN’S BLOCK.
__
CHAPTER 2UV.
Virginia, at the door of the box, stood
facing the crowd where Tom had disap
peared. A shudder shook her from head
to foot. She still seemed looking into a
pair of tormented blue eyes alight with
a shifting flame; the choked, broken ac
cents of a familiar voice were in her ears.
And yet—oh, could it be?—was it real
ly Tom who had stood there? That
gaunt figure and sickly face, the disso
lute eyes and coarsened mouth were
like a travesty on the memory cherished
so tenderly. The pity of it!
Her raised arm drooped against the
curtain in the shadow, and she laid her
face upon it, closing her eyes and letting
the slow, heavy tears fall as they would.
A love born of long association is not
an easy thing to kill. Virginia's died
hard in that piteous moment, but it died
surely. She scarcely knew it herself, so
keen, so deep was the lush of compas
sion, almost maternal in its intensity,
that took its place.
But gradually as the tears fell and the
throes of the awakening continued she
saw the truth. The passion that laid
held her to (he [last was like a womout
coil whose strands in the weak places
she had persistently kept mended until
Tom’s own hand had cut it tonight, leav
ing in her grasp only a handfnl of worn
out shreds. Ti.’i i,.,i , ..as like
something done with and put away for
ever. Weak and morbid natures cling
to a sentiment when the ideal that pro
jected it is lost. A proud and virile
heart leaps exultant, free.
But there was none of the triumph of
freedom tempering the first acuteness of
Virginia’s awakening. She was think
ing of Tom as she had first seen him
years ago. He had stood on the steps of
the chaj>el that April morning when the
square was a glory of white clouds and
young, rustling leaves. The stiff student
cap threw a pointed shadow across his
glowing eyes. His gown was pushed
roughly back, one hand deep iu his
pocket as he laughed aloud and snapped
his fingers at a little terrier rolling on
the grass, mad in the caress of the sun
light.
The then and now! Ages had rolled
between that moment and this one. Was
there nothing to be done—no price she
could pay, no sacrifice she could make—
to give him hack that innocence and
know him again as he was that day?
“Virginia!”
w
“Virginia!’’
There was a new significance in Rich
ard Monkiow’s touch upon her arm, light
as it was. She felt it in her blood. There
was a sudden shyness in her glance. She
drew back, a new recognition startling
her, and looked intently at tho bronzed
face under the shorn white hair. How
composed it was, how earnest and gentle!
“Yon know who that was,” she said;
“you've heard father revile him often
enough.” She paused, and again a bit
ing mist swam across her sight. “Poor
Tom! His bitterest enemy might pity
him now.”
“Perhaps you would like to follow
him. Would yon? If he lives alone,
has no one to help him”
“What do you mean?” And her burn
ing hand was on his arm.
“He seemed to moon tho verge of a
collapse. I saw a sailor once whose face
wore that look. He shot himself. If he
hadn't, I think he would have gonemad.”
She threw ont her hands in a gesture
of pain.
“Yes—come. Wo can get his address
at the box office. If not, I know where
the manager lives. Come. You will go
with me, won’t you?”
He made no answer in words, but gaz
ing down into her questioning eyes a
flood of fealty poured from his, a long,
yearning, inspiring glance of passion
that thrilled her to the core of her trou
bled soul.
CHAPTER XV.
Scarcely 10 minutes later Tom entered
his sitting room. It was dark. He bated
the darkness. He wanted light—light to
keep the terrors from crowdingnpon him
—an invisible, awful horde. He lit the
lamp, staggered to the sinking fire and
fell exhausted into a chair, where he sat
with heavily lianging arms and head
fallen forward. His breath came in
spurts, his heart was in liis throat, his
wide, circled eyes were sightless, bnt liis
inward vision was the more hideously
acute. Oh, God, the pathos of what he
saw!
One after another he reviewed the
wickednesses, the degradations of his
life. How closely they pressed together
—a series of steps, each one lower, form
ing a stairway and descending into a
gulf! He stood faltering upon the edge
of the last, the darkness hungry for his
soul, the roar of an incoming torrent in
his ears.
Tonight he had stood face to face with
Virginia, not with the white memory
which had always followed him, bnt
with the living woman whose warm,
fragrant lips had surrendered to his kiss
for one ecstatic moment, long, long ago.
Oh, that fervent, remembered kiss! Oh,
her deep, mystical eyes!
Those eyes! Ah, they had read him
through ahd through, making his blood
leap and shiver! Her power was still
unshaken in his soul—nay, she was in
deed his soul, fer near her he felt and un
derstood more keenly, and life took on a
deeper meaning. She was his light, his
breath, his revelation, with power in the
small compass of one glance to save
him even from himself.
But she was lost to him forever. With
the sight of Dawson's face had come the
thonght of what he was—not fit to stand
before her, not fit to touch her hand.
With a cry like an animal strangling
he threw out liis arms. Oh, if he conld
be better—or worse! But to have al
ways seen the good and loved it, and yet
with unstable feet to have drifted away
to all that was vile, even while keeping
his eyes fixed upon the beacon that shed
its light in vain for him—this was tor
ture. Oh, if he coni 1 go back! If he
only could like a child go back and be
gin all over again!
He got up slowly and fumbled among
the glasses on the table until he found
the bottle he wanted—a little wine to
help quench this aching regret, this self
reproach in every heart throb! He
drained the glass thirstily, let his folded
arms rest upon the table and laid his
head upon them.
The things of the actual world slipped
away, and his sleep was troubled by a
dream.
He was alone. The night sighed around
him, the moon swung in the high, misty
spaces. He felt a sense of predestina
tion as he moved along, as if each step
had been ordered by a will other than
his own, as if lie must walk that rono
and eventually see what lay ahead in the
mystery of the far, blue shadows.
His vision became clearer, and he saw
himself clad in a long, white gown, inade
pilgrim fashion, a staff in his hand. The
silver at his feet became the sand of a
beach, and the sweet, monotonous whis
per stealing through the desolate white
ness the incessant sobbing of the sea.
Yes, he was walking on the very edge of
the fretting waters.
A warm hand slipped into his, and
Virginia walked beside him. Her hair
was unbound. It softly lashed her
cheeks, and sometimes he felt its silken
caress. He drew her to him, seeking
her lips.
“Stay with me, dear,” ho whispered.
“Stay with me now.”
He felt the warmth of her young, red
mouth on his, but her eyes remained
wide and beseeching. She murmured
his name and led him on until they
stood before a building of austere and
awful structure. It seemed to liavo risen
from the waters. The waves broke in
greenish tongues upon its steps, and
within he saw a fallen lamp sputtering
before a ruined shrine. As they paused
in the shadow of its door they heard the
sound of bare feet whispering upon
stone, and slowly up one staircase and
down another a silent multitude poured,
all garbed like Virginia and himself in
the simple vestments of the antique
world. Many of his friends were in the
throng, many of his old classmates; his
enemies, too—Delatolo and Dawson. It
was a curious thing that those going up
smiled at him, but those returning
poured down and passed him with revil
ing glances or cold faces turned away.
In silence, with his love’s hand- cling
ing to his, they joined the ascending
line. Up, up, until his body was weary
and his veins throbbed with pain, and
still beyond wero other shadowy stairs
under appalling arches. Faint and bat
tling for breath, they reached the top at
last. A vast hall wrapped in luminous
gloom stretched away iuto immeasura
ble space. From its strange circular
windows they could see the green of the
sea, far, far below, the waves rolling in
with a languorous movement.
He let his folded <irms rest upon the table
and laid Iris head upon them.
Tom felt a numbness seizt1 him. Ho
sighed again and again, at length tear
ing away the white folds of cloth from
his breast in an effort to ease its burn
ing.
“Wliat place is this?” faltered from
his dry lips.
Virginia did not answer. She seemed ,
stricken dumb with grief.
Before a door leadiug to an inner
chamber an old man stood on guard.
His shoulders were curved as if he had
toiled with the spade. His hairy, labor
twisted hands were crossed upon a staff.
One sentence only left his lips in a mo
notonous sing song:
“The Hall of the Sinful Copy.”
Tom hesitated before him, joy welling
in his heart. The simple, trusting, ador-;
ing old man was his father. Oh, here j
he would find love unspeakable.
“Father!” he whispered, with vehe
ment tenderness.
But the worn, gentle face took on a
look of hatred it had never worn in life.
The gnarled lingers Hung his arms away.
“I sacrificed myself for you. Hunger,
despair were my portion many a time '
that you might be happy, free and some j
day great. This I did for you, but you
have poisoned eternity for me,” were the i
words that left his lips with the fury of
a malediction.
Tom could not linger to question or !
appeal. The throng pressing behind him
bore him on to the center of the inner
hall, where a presence, awful iu its aus
terity and grandeur, hung like a shadow,
with eyes of fire ubove a parchment out
spread upon a marble ledge. Around
this the crowd circled, looked and moved j
on one by one.
He bent over it eagerly. Here lay the .
explanation ,the quest of this vast throng, ,
He looked, and his breath seemed to
cease. Before his eyes lay the stolen play, j
It pages were charred as if it had been
passed through flame. It was blotted
with tears and smeared with blood. His
name was written there for all to see,
and far off he still heard his father's
quavering, husky voice—the voice that
once sang lullabies to him—repeating to
the curious thousands:
“The Hall of the Sinful Copy.”
The dews of terror for some unknow?
but approaching disaster broke from
every pore, and he sank to his knees,
drawing Virginia with him.
“Oh, kiss me once, love,” she whisper
ed, her white cheek hard npon his; “we 1
must part so soon!”
“Don't leave me,” he pleaded. “I love
you. To be near you is delight even in
this fearful place. I’ll give back the
play. In tho light of truth I will stand
unmasked. I’ll do it gladly, let them
revile me as they will. Then Til have !
peace—and your love, dearer than all
the world.”
Oh, her lovely, melting eyes, her kiss j
heavy with farewell!
“It is too late," she sighed, and he felt j
her lips upon his throat. “All that is ;
past.” And for another moment she
clung to him.
“No, no. We will be happy yet,” he
cried in anguish.
But the words were hushed upon his I
lips. In some occult v.... . uth was i
revealed to him. He l:new that all the ;
faces he had looked npon were those of !
the dead. He too was dead, and Vir
ginia. Life and earth were gone forever.
Repentance was vain, redemption iin
1
possible, parting, shame and despair
eternal.
In the sudden blackness that 3wept
down like the shadow cast by a mon
strous wing Virginia’s body slipped from
his longing arms, and he was alone.
The cry that broke from his humili
ated soul sent the vision whirling, and
he awoke, conscious of a bursting heart
and a quivering body bathed in cold
dews. He made an effort to rise, ami as
he did so felt a hand upon his shoulder,
heard a voice speaking his name.
“What else?” he cried, flinging back
his head, his eyes flashing a maddened
defiance and clouded with blood. “What
else? Oh. God!”
Mr. Plunket a commonplace face was
close to him.
“Murray, you must be ill. You've been
dreaming—crying out as if some one
were hurting you. Wake up. Don’t
stare so, man. Wake up.”
Staring, trembling, his tongue thick,
Tom sprang up. The senso of utter loss,
the tragedy of Virginia’s last kiss, were
still with him. lie looked around, star
tled, dumb. Yonder in thecrimson circle
cast by the lamp stood Delatole smiling.
Just beyond him were the gaunt form
and lonely eyes of Felix Dawson. Both
were waiting.
“My dear Murray, I am here under
protest,” said Plunket, wringing his fat
hands in a loose, soft, helpless way as he
stood with his head on one side. “This
man’s story is absurd—now be quiet,
don’t get angry, but—but—he says your
last play was one he sent you and which
yon — er —er — er — appropriated. He
hasn't a shadow of proof. How could
he? Why, it’s preposterous! As if I
wouldn’t know your style anywhere! I
pooh poohhim, but Mr. Delatole per
suaded me to let bln fat e you with his
story. That is all, my dear Hurray:
that is all.”
Tom regarded him vacantly while he
spoke. He started blindly forward and
paused midway in the room, leaning
upon a chair.
He was not dreaming still? No; these
were men, not shades. This was his fa
miliar room—Virginia was not far away.
All was not over. The living moment
was still his. Considerations su im
portant bnt a little while ago were lost
sight of; his tortured sensibilities over
leaped them all in a maddening thirst to
redeem himself in his own eyes while he
could, to purge tho soilnrefrom his soul,
so that never—oh. never—might he
really know that sense of awful, final
condemnation revealed to him in a
dream.
“Speak up, Murray. Throw the lie
in his teeth,” cried Plnnket.
A pallor suddenly struck Tom’s face
from brow to chin; a pale smile came
and went upon his lips. Wretched and
wild though his face was, there was
something of inexplicable triumph in
that smile—a light above a wreck.
He looked straight at Plunket:
“The lie? No! The lie was mine. Do
you hear? The horrid, damnable lie
was mine. The play was his. I stole it.
I called it ‘In the Name of the Czar,’
and when ho came to mo I wouldn’t givo
it up. I wouldn't do it. But now—oh,
take it—and with it remove the curse
that has followed me!”
A groan of agony came with the words.
His eyes locked past the amazed and
startled group to the open doorway.
Was Virginia’s gray, drawn face as he
had seen it in his dream still before bis
fancy? He looked again. Then he1 saw
she was really upon the threshold, her
eyes mirroring the pity and horror her
trembling lips could not speak. She had
heard all.
CHAPTER XVI.
Thu snow was fulling through the Mack
night. Chelsea square was sileut, and
the wind among tlio line of trees stand
ing sentinel wise came like a tremendous
sigh ascending to a moan. The year
would die and the new year bo born in a
whirling whiteness, winding sheet and
baptismal robe in one.
The lights in the lamps flared lone
Eomely or bent to the rush of the wand.
Their uncertain flicker fell upon Tom
and sent strange, leaping shadows across
his face. He walked as one without pur
pose and kept cloce to the palings.
Following his confession had tome
Delatole’s attacks in the press, each word
an adder bite. IK* had expected them,
but they drove him mad, and for a week
lie had been hidden in the nether circles
of the city. Such a week!—a conflagra
tion in which lie had tried to burn every
vestige of honorable manhood left him.
But he bad not succeeded. No, for lie
was here in this last hour of the year,
making bis indeterminate way for a last
look at the peaceful old square be liad
once thought so stupid, a last look at
the walls that had frowned on his fro
ward hopes, perhaps a last word with
Virginia. And Wien? The river—a Sleep
in the snow—an end somehow.
At the tree where the knowledge of
his love and power first came to hiin lie
paused. His arms were loosely folded
on his breast. His eyes were shadowy
and grieved as those of a beaten animal
thoroughly cowed.
Suddenly the shade at Virginia’s win
dow was raised, and she stood with her
body pressed against the glass, her hands
arched over her eyes as she peered into
the night. Oh, was she watching for
him? Oh, had she one thought for linn?
With a yearning sob Tom made a
movement forward and then retreated.
He could see the whole room. A man
had entered. Ho remembered him as
Virginia’s companion at the theater. lie
carried a bunch of flowers as white as
the snow clinging to his broad shoulders,
and as Virginia went toward him lie
took her hand and gave them to her.
What words was he speaking now?
Tom could see his strong, quivering face,
his moving lips, his submissive yet im
passioned attitude.
He loved Virginia. Yes, and the en
chanted whisper of his love seemed to
steal out to the watcher through the
drifting snow.
He turned hie face f rum where the river
luy.
A moment thi y .■... .. .other,
then Virginia was in ins ,n.. . , dinging
to him, and In- had kissed her.
A sharp breath of longing broke from
Tom. To shut ont. the picture he turned
his face to the wet bark of the tree,
shuddering and sobbing like a woman.
Virginia another's. He not the slight- '
est influence in her life ever again—fall
en into darkness, utterly forgotten.
Faintly the first chimes floated from
the belfjrv, and he looked up.
j
Virginia hau left her lover, who stooa
just behind her. She was again at the
window, still under curved hands look
ing into the darkness, and now he could
plainly see the pity, the tender, search
ing look in tho wide, clear eyes.
He was not forgotten. No, no, net'
even in this first moment of her new
happiness. It was for him her gaze tried
to pierce the deep gloom, for him—poor
wanderer- the light burned brightly in
her windov, os if she knew, who know
him so well, he might stray back that
night.
He stepped into the deeper shadow,
but his spent heart ‘felt one quivering
thrill of hope. A tumultuous, anguished
craving to live again swept through him.
If he were worth her remembrance, if
she wanted him back, might he not yet
make something of the mins of his
youth—not the marvelous structure ha
had once dreamed of with turrets in the
clouds—yet something—something
He covered his face with liis crossed
arms, and tho bitterest moment of bis
life was upon him.
A picture seemed to rise before him,
thrown outward in bold lines upon a
misty whiteness. He saw a disheartened
miner laying down hi3 spade before a
worked out mine which had failed in its
golden promise. Before him into the
west and the falling night stretched a
new road, and toward this his face was
set. But lie looked back once over tho
blue prairie, back to the east, a farewell
in hisoyes. It was a moment’s halt—a
little space for dreaming and regret.
Tom’s nerveless hands fell down. He
gave a quivering sigh, like a man com
ing up to breathe after tho water had
passed over him.
His artistic life was complete in its
terrible incompleteness. This was his
moment of transition. Was there a new
road for him? Its beginning might lie
in shadow, but did it lead anywhere?
Could he go on? Where? How? He did
not know.
Bnt Virginia iu the window still
watched for him, and now the chimes
were pealing like mad. Oh, their rise
and fall, their winged clamor, their ec
static repetitions reasoning down his pit
iful hesitation!
He turned his faco from where the
river lay and walked eastward through
the falling snow. His heart was bathed
in a strange, warm peace. The chimes
followed him—a silver, celestial voice.
T1IE END.
Lightning's destructive Power.
During the year 1891 205 lives were
lost (that we know of) in the United
States east of the Rocky mountains di
rectly through the action of lightning.
How many were lost indirectly, and
how many cases there were of shattered
health and more or less permanent in
jury, we can only surmise. The finan
cial loss due directly to lightning was
certainly not below $1,500,000.
To get at something like a commercial
estimate of the damage done by lightning
in the past few years in this country, i
have made use of The Chronicle fire ta
bles for the six years 1885-90 and find
that some 2,223 fires, or 1.3 per cent of
the whole number, were caused by light
ning, and the total loss was $3,386,826,
or 1.25 per cent of the whole amount lost
by fire. During 1892 we have a record
of 292 lives lost. The damage muy be
estimated at as high a figure as in 1891.
These losses are the more appalling when
we recall that over 95 per cent of the
casualties due to lightning occur be
tween the months of April and Septem
ber.
The question whether or not we are
able to protect ourselves from lightning
some five years ago would have been
answered readily and with all sincerity,
“Yes; a good electrical connection with
the earth—a stout continuous copper
rod, for example—will suffice.” Today
no such answer can pass unchallenged.—
Popular Science Monthly.
Life lu inuia.
Fancy an enormous house rambling
out into a series of immense rooms, all
on one floor, piazzas 20 feet deep, im
mense chambers, in the middle of which
stand the beds, doors and windows wide
open, the grounds filled with palms, ba
nanas and ali sorts of tropical trees, the
song of birds, the chirp of insects every
where, and a dazzling sun blazing down
on the Indian ocean iu front.
A dozen or more husky Hindoo serv
ants, barefooted, dressed in white, with
bright sashes around their waists aad
bright turbans on their heads, are mov
ing about everywhere, as still as cats,
and with no end of devotion to their lit
tle duties. Oue of them seems to have
nothing to do bnt to look after me. He
has worked over my limited wardrobe
till ho knows every shirt and collar bet
ter than I do myself.
Ho is now brushing my hat for the
twentieth time this morning. The life
is luxurious. Quantities of delightful
fruit, cool lounging places with luxuri
ous chairs, a sumptuous breakfast (or
“tiffin,” as we call it here), and dinner
table, and no end of kind attention. 1
am writing in my room on tha day be
fore Christmas, as if it were a rather
hot August morning at home.—Century.
Had Napoleon Entered the EukUmIi Navy.
When Napoleon was at school at Bri
enne, the son of an English peer, who
himself became Lord Wenlock, was his
schoolfellow. One day the little Corsi
can came to young Lawley and said.
“Look at this.”
He showed him a letter written in re
markably good English. It was ad
dressed to the British admiralty and
requested permission to enter oar1 navy.
The young Bonaparte said, "The diffi
culty, I am afraid, will be my religion.”
Lawley said, “You young rascal, 1 don't j
believe that yon have any religion at 1
all.” Napoleon replied, “But my family
have; my mother’s race, the Ramolini,
are very rigid; I should be disinherited j
if I showed any signs of becoming a ,
heretic.”
These facts I had from one who had
very good means of knowing. He told 1
me that Bonaparte’s letter was sent, and
that it still exists in the archives of the
admiralty. I liave not searched for it,
for the simple reason that I do not wish
so good a story to become prematurely ;
public. I hope that some one who has
access to the historical documents in that
department may take the trouble to find 1
it.—Sir William Fraser.
Didn't Wish to lUpeat the MiHtuke.
There is a certain judge in Chicago j
who rather prides himself on liis vast i
and varied-knowledge of law. The other |
day he was compelled to listen to a case
that had been appealed from a justice of
the peace. The young practitioner who I
appeared for the appellant was long aud
tedious. He brought in all the elemen
tary textbooks and quoted the funda
mental propositions of law. At iast the j
judge thought it w is time to make an
effort to hurry him up.
"Can’t wo assume," he said blaudly,
“that the court known a little law it
talG"
"That’s the very mistake I made in the
ower conrt,” answered the youtig man.
•I don't want to let it defeat me twice.’"
—Chicago Mail. I
THE DEBUTANTE.
Mrs. Marie Kevins Bull is said to hava
exquisite taste in all matters of decoration.
Mrs. Mary L. Sproat has l>een employed
in the probate office at Taunton. Mass., for
20 years.
Fifty thousand dollars per annum is the
marriage dower of the young women of the
Vanderbilt families.
Mrs. Bontzon of Paris, known as “the
friend of the American,” has announced
her intention of visiting this country in the
near future.
Mrs. Hicks-Lord has a Sevres set that
once belonged to the Empress Eugenie. She
also has a set which was given to her by the
sultan of Turkey.
Mrs. Dunlap-Hopkins, founder of the
New York School of Design, has recently
made it a gift of 2tx) casts, which were
taken from the originals at the Louvre.
Nellie Grant Sartoris has a charming lit
tle house of her own in London. It is a
bright looking three story and basement
brick, with a vine covered veranda in front.
Miss Hildegarde Hawthorne, a daughter
of Julian Hawthorne, won a prize of $100
offered by Current Literature for the best
World’s Fair article. Its title is “The Ara
bian Torture Dance.”
Mrs. U. S. Grant, the widow of General
Grant, is to five in the finest residence in
San Diego, Cal., U. S. Grant, Jr., having
purchased the Hubbeil property as a perma
nent home for his mother and himself.
^liss Hope Goddard, who, according to
gossip, may shortly I>econie Mrs. Van Alen,
has eyes which are a heavenly shade of
blue, with an expression that changes rap
idly from gay and roguish to grave and
thoughtful.
Mrs. Agassiz, Mrs. W. H. Clafliu aud Mrs.
I. T. Talbot have been elected members of
the College club in Boston. Any woman
may be made an honorary member of this
club for recognition of important services
to the cause of collegiate education of
women.
Mrs. Laura Ormiston Chant spoke re
cently in Boston on “America as Seen
Through an English Woman’s Eyes.” She
assured her hearers that she did not place
herself among the»severe English critics of
America, but was much pleased with what
she had seen.
Mrs. Nathan Collins of Tetton, Mon.,
is a well known cattle raiser of that state.
Recently she shipped three cars of cattle to
Chicago, and accompanied them, riding in
the freight caboose with the drovers. She
is a large woman, with a vigorous voice and
assertive ways.
A Spanish woman, Senora KvaCanel, de
clares in an interview with a Chicago re
porter: “I earnestly believe in equal rights,
and I have used voice and pen to advocate
the cause. Btit if I Could speak your lan
guage I would stand lx»fore this country
and plead for some rights for men—the
women seem to have them all.”
THE PHILOSOPHER.
To be gentle is the test of a lady.
None are so old as those who have out
lived enthusiasm.
Great occasions do not make heroes or
cowards; they simply unveil them to the
eyes of men.
The practice of ecououiy is no disgrace.
It is better living on a little than outliving
a great deal
Do not be ashamed to confess your igno
rance wheuever you see an opportunity of
acquiring knowledge.
As the sword of the best tempered metal
is most flexible, so the truly generous are
most pliant and courteous in their tahavior
to their inferiors.
The reason why people mo ill know how
to do their duty on great occasions is that
they will not be diligent in doing their duty
on little occasions.
Liberty cannot spring up from blood; the
sword cannot prepare the soil where it is to
grow op. Truth, light and reason alone
are the uurses of liberty.
There is a pleasure in contemplating
good; there is a greater pleasure in receiv
ing good, but the greatest pleasure is doing
good, which comprehends the rest.
To one who has said, “I do not believe
there is an honest man in the world,” an
other replied, *‘It is impossible that one
man should know all the world, but quite
possible that one should know himself.”—
Montreal Star
THE MAH ABOUT TOWN.
Mayor Pro Tcm Swift of Chicago la a
manufacturer of axle grease.
Lord Colin Campbell recently turned up
In Bombay a* counselor employed to de
fend 29 Mohammedan* implicated in the
great riots.
Mr. Gladstone lias no idea that hchasap
proached the age when lie should retire
from active life. Ilis plans are laid as lib
erally as if he were a youth of 30.
Governor Elect Greenhalge of Massachu
setts was born in England. The old Bay
State has never before elected a foreign
born citizen to her chief executive chair.
John Hooker, husbaud of Isabella Beech
er Hooker (sister of the late Henry Ward
Beecher), has resigned the position of re
porter of the supreme court of Connecticut,
which he had held for 30 years.
Lord Rosebery remarked at a recent din
ner that wherever in the world there is a
good thing there would be found a Scotch
man sitting by it. Even the canny lad that
sits by himself will con firm this.
A Boston reporter asked Colonel Inger
aoli the other day whether it is true that he
now believes in immortality, and was told,
“Love was the first to dream of immortal
ity, and as long as we love we shall hope.”
Rawlins Cotteuet, a scion of half the
great families of New York, a member of
the Knickerbocker club, an approved ex
ponent of the mast fashionable precepts of
the day, has opened a new flower shop on
Fifth avenue.
Representative Bryan of Nebraska has
taken rank faster l hail any other new mem
ber of the house. He is always rendy. His
use of books is that of a yell trained and
practiced lawyer, who can hold bis informa
tion well in baud.
Secretary Jarag of the Corea n legation at
Washington is an ardent student of the
English language. Hu takes his lessons in
the most practical way, learning about
things he has to handle eacli day in the af
fairs of the household.
Van Roberts, a hotel keeper at Rush
Hill, ilo., has fallen heir to $600,000, left
him by John Bennett, who died at Las Ve
gas, N. M. Roberts saved Bennett from
drowning in the Sagainuu river, near Deca
tur, Ills., 20 years ago.
T. C. B. Howard, commander of Mary
land’s oyster navy, conceals beneath his
triple initials the names Thomas Contee
Bowie, and comes of three or four famous
Maryland families who have given to the
state judges and senators.
A hitherto unfamiliar remark of Abra
ham Lincoln, and which is good enough to
go into the schoolbooks, is this one, which
Senator Palmer of Illinois says Lincoln
made to him: "1 have simply tried to do
my duty every day, hoping that when to
morrow came I would be equal to it."
F. Mariou Crawford, in a recent article
on the pope, remarks that in the matter of
physique there is a close resemblance be
tween Leo XIII, President Lincoln andMr.
Gladstone—lean, sound mind, of a bony
constitution, indomitable vitality, large
skull, high cheekbones and energetic jaws.
The biggest man in Washington is Cap
tain Maddox. The pointer flies round to
480 pounds when this gentleman steps on
the platform and drops a penny in the slot.
The southern senators and representatives
all know Captain Maddox. They credit
him with being the best poker player in
Washington.
Vasily Vasilievich Bervy, the latest addi
tion to the number of Russian political refu
gees iD i-ondon, is a remarkable man. He
is 64 years old, and 26 have been spent in
exile and imprisonment. He has been in
side uo less than 82 prisons and yet has
committed no act humanity or civilization
can regard as a crime.