North Carolina Newspapers is powered by Chronam.
Sip (fyfoim JittqcL
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
KDITOU AND 1MJOPRIETOK.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION:
One square, one insertion.
One square, two Insertions, -One
square, one month, -
One cory. one year, -One
copy , six mouths -One
copy, tUree mouths,
PITTSBOKO', CHATHAM CO., N. C, OCTOBER 17, 1878.
For larger advertisements liberal contracts will be
AW 1 I I I
Cheapest Goods & Best Variety
CAN BE FOUND AT
New Qoods Receired ererr Weefc.
You can always find what you wish at Lon
don's. He keeps everything.
Dry Goods, Clothing, Carpeting, Hardware,
Tiu Ware, Drugs, Crockery, Confectionery
Shoes, Boots, Caps, Hats, Carriage
Materials, Sewiug Machines,Oils,
Putty, Glass, Paints, Nails,
Iron, Plows and Plow
Solo, Upper and Harness Leathers,
Shawls, Blankets, Um
brellas, Corsets, Belts, La
dies Neck-Ties and Ruffs, Ham
burg Edgings, Laces, Furniture, Ac.
Best Shirts In the Country for $1.
Best 5-cent Cigar, Chewing and
Smoking Tobacco, Snuff,
Salt and Molasses.
My stock is always complete in every line,
and goods always sold at the lowest prices.
Special Inducements to Cash Buyers.
My motto, "A nimble Sixpence is better
than a slow Shilling."
ISfAll kinds of produce taken.
W. L. LONDON,
Pittsboro', N. Carolina.
P. H. CAMERON, President.
W. E. ANDERSON, Hr Preu
W. H. niCKS, Sec'y.
The only Home Life Insurance Co. in
All Its fund loaned out AT HOME, and
among our own people. We do not send
North Carolina money abroad to build up other
States. It is one of the most successful com
panies of its age in the United States. Its as
sets are amply sufficient. All losses paid
promptly. Eight thousand dollars paid in the
last two years to families in Chatham. It will
cost a man aged thirty years only five cents a
day to insure for one thousand dollars.
Apply for further information to
H. A. LONDON, Jr., Gen. Agt.
PITTSBORO', N. C.
Dr. A. D. MOORE,
PITTSBORO', N. CM
Ofert bis profeational services to tbe citizens of
Chatham. With an experience of thirty years be
hopes to f It entire satisfaction.
Attorney at Law,
TTSB0B0', N. 0.,
M fBbbllBS IB ill. VUUm VI VUBWlUt A mi
Moore and Orange, and la the Supreme and Federal
H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
Attorney at Law,
PITTNBO RO N.
jH-Special Attention Paid to
DR. A. J. YEAGER,
PERMANENTLY LOCATE!) AT
PITTSBOEO', N. C.
All Work Warranted. Satisfaction Guaranteed.
R. H. COWAN,
Staple & Fancy Drj Goods, Cloth
- lng, Hats, Boots, Shoes, No
CROCKERY and GROCERIES
PITTSBORO', IT. C.
RALEIGH, N. CAR.
O. 8. POE,
Dry Qooda, Groceries ft General Herchindiie,
All kind of Flows and Castings, saggy
Uateriali, Furniture, ate.
IT NEVER PAYS.
It never pays to growl and fret
When fortune Is our foe
The Loiter bred will push ahead.
And strike the braver blow.
For luck Is work, and those who shirk
Should not lament their doom.
But yield the pay, and clear the way.
That better men have room.
It never pays to foster pride,
And squander time iu show ;
For friends thus won are sure to run
lu time of want or woe.
The noblest worth of all the earth
Are gems of heart and bruin,
A conscience clear, a household dear,
And handH without a stain.
It never pays to hate a foe,
Or cater to a friend ;
To fawn and whine, much less repine ;
To Utrrow or to lend.
The faults of men are fewer when
Each rows his own canoe ;
For Teuds and debts and pampered pets
I'ulHAiuded mischief brew.
It never pays to wreck the health
In drudging after gain ;
And he Is sold who thinks that gold
Is cheaply bought with pain.
An humble lot, a cosy cot.
Have tempted even kings ;
For stations high that wealth will buy,
fc'ot oft contentment brings,
It never pays! a blunt refrain
Well worthy of a song;
For age and youth must learn the truth,
That nothing pays that's wrong.
The good and pure alone are sure
To bring prolonged success;
While what Is right In Reason's sight
U always sure to bless.
THROUGH A FLOWER.
BY VIXIL DriIRINO.
"What is the price of that plant, my
friend?" I asked of the little Uerman
florist at the corner store.
The man named exactly the sum which
I possessed in the whole world, and I paid
it ana iook the flower.
"Were you mad?"' I hear a reader ask.
No, friend, I was only in lore.
I he lady ot my heart had a weakness
for rare Mowers, and I felt sure that she
would prize such a gift beyond expres
sion. 1 heretore 1 forgot the various per
sons to whom the sum that I expended
was due lor value received, and felt happy
with the great pot with its nodding foliage
in my arms.
It was the rarest lily I had ever seen.
I was not skilled enough in the varieties
of Mowers to know whether the man told
me the truth or not when he said that only
he possessed a nower ot those colors, and
that by certain mystic Morist arts he had
produced the dower which he called the
"golden lily." But I felt that it might
very well be so when I observed its splen
dor. It was almost pure gold, save where, at
the bottom of the cup, lay Mecks of scarlet
and white, and beside it the other lilies on
the stand lost their beauty, and looked
dull and faded.
The pot in which it was planted was a
curiosity, too, a Chinese thing with a per
spectiveless picture of a lady walking
uesiue a little blue river, attended by a
person with a Ian and surrounded by
I he Morist ottered to send a boy with
the pot, but I would not termit it. Who
knew that the plant would arrive whole
and sound and uuderapitau-d at its desti
I carried it myself hiuh in my arms, the
Mower out of harm's 1 each above my head,
the leaves tanning my tace, and found
myself in the presence of Helen Harring
ton, exactly at the moment when she
tripped, watering-pot in hand, into her
Of course she admired the flower, and
of course she thanked me, and her smiles
were so bewitching and her eyes so
bright, and she was so evidently really
pleased, that I found courage to speak as
I had not dared to speak before, and tell
her how I loved her.
Then I discovered that she returned
my afteetions, and to end the story as
briefly as possible, before we parted we
Certainly, under the circumstances, my
trust in Micawber's expectation of "some
thing turning up" was remarkable. I
had not a cent in the world, not a patient,
though my , sign, bright with gilding
"Theodore Holly, M. D." had glittered
on my c ffice door for two months or more,
and no wealthy relatives to aid me in time
of need. Yel I asked a girl accustomed to
refinement, if not luxury, to keep house
for me in a year's time with as much cool
ness as a millionaire could have exhibited,
as coolly as I had spent my last dollar
(promised to my landlady that very eve
ning) uiion a lily !
I intended vaguely to be rich some day,
of course every man does and I had no
doubt that luck would change before long.
Therefore, I felt no compunctions of con
science, but went right home in a merry
mood, thinking myself the happiest fellow
under the sun.
Of course, I expected that my course of
love would run on smoothly; but before
the next day had passed I found out my
mistake. I had an early caller in the
morning; no other than Helen's father, a
stout old gentleman, Vith an imposing
manner, and a loud voice, and a general
well-to do respectability quite annihilating
to one of my peculiar disposition and
Hitherto, however, he had been very
polite and gracious to me, and I was quite
unprepared for the angry frown with
which he stalked into my untidy room as
I opened the door for him.
My heart sank, but I placed a chair for
him, and assuming my sweetest smile,
remarked that we were having "charming
"Charming fiddlesticks I" was his an
swer. "I did not come here to talk about
the weather, and you know it. Don't
you consider yourself a precious rascal,
I stared at him in amazement.
"No one has ever dared to call me so,
sir, ' ' I answered. ' T
"Hold your tongue, sir I" cried the old
gentleman. "No affectation with me.
You know you are one. A pretty fellow,
indeed, to ask a girl to many him within
the year 1 What do you mean by it?"
"That I love her, sir," I said.
'Bah !" cried the old gentleman. "Love
a fine love, indeed ! When we love
people we have some consideration for
their comfort. What is your wife (if you
ever have one) going to live on, sir? Air,
sir, like a chameleon ! Good heavens !
vour impudence surprises me
We must all have a beginning, sir," I
said. "You had yours, I believe.
"A beginning," cried the old gentle
man. "I d'd not begin by associating
with wild young fellows, whose very ac
quaintance was ruinous to my reputation.
I did hot spend my nights drinking and
gambling. I did not waste my substance
in riot. 1 did not spend the hours which
should have been devoted to study in re
covering from the effects of whisky and
beer. A new way to rise in the world !
And that is your way. You can't deny
it. Rise ! You'll sink down to the very
gutter, What right have you to ask a girl
to marry you?"
1 put my head down on my hands, and
hid my face for very shame, it was all
true enough. I was reckless, wild, un
Yet 1 tried to falter forth an assertion
that I was not so bad as some men after
all, and that I intended to have a large
practice, and be steady and prosperous
some day. Above all, that 1 love Helen
better than my life; which. was true enough,
"Good intentions pave the way to the
lower regions," said the old gentleman,
when I had finished. Speaking more
kindly than before, but still decidedly.
'1 cannot give my daughter to one who
has given no proof that he intends to put
them into practice. But, aside from your
habits, I have always liked you. I think
you might, if you chose, become an honor
to your profession, and rise in the world
in every sense; and since Helen has given
her heart to you, I will make a com
promise. You can afford to wait for each
other. Abandon your evil habits, go to
some distant city, then work hard, and
strive to become worthy of the love of a
good woman, and at the end of three
years return. 1 hen if you are what you
should be, you may have my child.
Three years ! It seemed an eternity to a
young and ardent lover, but Helen was
the only girl in the world lor me, and I
had only the choice of my obeying her
father's mandate, or parting Horn her for
ever. Besides, the old gentleman was right;
my companions and my habits had not
won me the regard of our town, where
the medical students were almost a public
nuisance from their wildness and dissipa
tion. I resolved to do what I knew would
ultimately be for the best; and having de
clared my resolution, found a friend in the
He gave me letters of introduction to
persons of influence in San Francisco,
loaned me the wherewithal tor my jour
ney, and wished me well. But he forbade
me to write to Helen during my absence,
or to communicate with her in any way.
"If your love is worth anything it will
live without billet-doux for three years,"
he said. And Helen had never disobeyed
"He is very kind, Theodore," she said,
"and we may trust him at his age to know
what is best for us."
So in a few weeks we parted, and no
one can blame me, loving her as I did, if
the moment was one of intense sadness.
Three years three weary years before
I might see her sweet young face again, and
one of us might die, or another might take
my place in her heart !
Who could tell? I felt sure of myself,
but how could I be sure of her who was
so beautiful, so good, and so evpry way
charming, that others than myself must
also be enamored of her, and strive to win
"Do not forget me," I pleaded, as I
kissed her lips at parting; and she promised
to be true to me until we met.
My last glimpse of her was taken as I
turned my head and saw her waving her
handkerchief to me from the window, on
the sill of which my golden lily in its
Chinese pot nodded its gorgeous head in
the breeze as though it were also bidding
I shall say nothing of my journey to
California, my first struggles there.
Enough that 1 abandoned my habits of
dissipation, and became steady and indus
trious. I established a small practice almost im
mediately. It increased. I did ray best to
earn the favor of my patients by thinking
of their real benefit, instead of merely
grasping at my fees, and considering the
sufferers who had turned to me for aid
only so many "good cures." .
Doctors would often succeed better in
this way than any other I found it so, at
least; and my health and strength of body
and mind were augmented by the regular
life I led, despite the severe mental labor I
imposed upon myself.
I thought of my dear Helen constantly,
and a letter from her would have been
very precious. I believe it would have
been kinder in her father to have per
mitted a correspondence. I suffered much
anxiety on her account, which might thus
have been avoided.
But I had promised to submit patiently,
and I worked without intermission, thus
leaving myself as little time for thought
There were women of course, within
my circle of acquaintance who were
neither old nor ugly, but they never made
the least impression on my heart. What
were they when compared with my dear
I even shunned society, not from any
fear of their fascinations, but because it
involved expense, and my object was
economy. And so the three years passed,
and at their end I found myself with a
fine practice, splendid health, a sum of
money laid away for a rainy day, and
every wild habit of my early youth dis
carded. It is needless to say that the moment my
time of probation had expired, I lingered
Confiding my patients to a brother
physician on whose skill I relied, I took
passage East at once, and arrived in Phila
delphia upon a glorious October day,
a heart beating.wildly with the emotions
which were naturally born of the near ap
proach of my reunion with Helen.
I only lingered in the city long enough
to banish the traces of travel from my
person, and then, dressed as becomingly
as I knew how for whoever forgot per
sonal appeal auce on such occasion? I
jumped into a train which ran through
the town where I had parted, three years
before, from my darling.
The time of the journey was two hours
it seemed an eternity to me.
I could scarcely wait for the train to
slacken speed when the town was reached.
I strained my eyes t catch sight of the
poplars that grew above her dwelling,
and rather ran than walked down the
wide street which led to the green lane on
which Mr. Harrington's mansion stood.
Then a sight met my eyes that transfixed
me to the ground in horror.
The poplars stood green and tall as
ever, but beyond them arose only one
ruined wall, with empty windows and at
its toot a heap ot rubbish, charred and
blackened, and telling, as I thought, of a
I was too much overcome to move for
many moments, but at last I summoned
courage to make inquiries with a throbbing
nean. x wanteu up to an old woman who
stood at an opposite door, and asked her
if she could tell me where to find Mr.
She shook her head,
"No," she said; "nor no one in the
place. They went away in the night, and
we've never nearaoi 'em. Perhaps you're
a friend of theirs?"
"Yes, yes," I gasped. "Tell me all
"You see, Mr. Harrington failed two
years ago," said the woman, "and that
crushed him down, and then the bank
broke where he had a little left after things
were settled, and theu some one set his
house on fire, and he waa so burnt that he
lost his sight and they couldn't bear, I
suppose, to live in comparative poverty
where they had lived so well, so they went
away secret-like, and have not been seen
since, nor heard of. They did say she
was married, but that may be nonsense,
and some say they're in New York, but
it's all guess-work. Why, how pale you
do look ! Are you a relation?"
But I could not answer her. I leaned
against the door-way, faint and ill.
It was to hear this at last that I had
struggled with fate, and denied my heart
a glimpse of her 1 loved for all these
the old woman was right. No one
knew more than she. 1 went to Mew
York, and searched for her for mouths.
I advertised, but all iu vain. At last, be
lieving I had indeed been forgotten, and
that the tale of her marriage was true. I
settled down in that city as a physician,
determined at least to be worthy of her
.....I ... !:.. ...I- i. ii i i- i
aim nvc me wuicn i nau jiveu lor
her sake. And so two more years passed
without a glimpse of her.
One Christinas Eve, the fifth of our
parting, I sat alone in my surgery, and
could have wept with loneliness. What
was the wealth and fame I now might
confidently hope to win, if her smiles did
not bless me, if no wife ever sat beside my
hearth, and no child called me father?
I began to wonder whether it might not be
better for me to find some woman worthy
of respect and admiration, and bestow
upon her what remnants of a heart I had
to give, ere 1 grew cold and selfish in my
loneliness. And as I thought thus, a
woman came rapping at my dor to beg
me to come at once to a house where an
accident had happened.
1 hurried on my overcoat and hat, and
it was a tipsy laborer who had scalded
himself with a kettle of boiling water, and
it was no easy task to bind up his wounds
and convince him that he was in no dan
ger, if he would obey my instructions and
refrain from tippling.
Consequently it was late when I hurried
down stairs on my way home. All the
lamps in the house were lit, and over the
table of a rather respectable room on the
lower Moor llamed a jet of gas. Its sharp
hissing, for it was turned on too high, at
tracted me. I glanced at it, and remained
riveted to the spot. Beneath it, on the
table, stood the "golden lilv' I had given
Helen five years before.
The same Mower in the same pot, but
covered by a glass.
Without pausing to think of the pro
priety of the act, I strode in and bent over
it. Then I saw that it was made of wax
the Mower, at least. The pot must be,
I knew, the very same.
It was not my Mower, but its portrait
from life. I struck with my ,cane upon
the table, and a dingy little girl ran in.
"To whom does this belong?" I asked.
The girl stared.
"It's her's," she said. "She makes 'em.
"Yes, yes," I said, remembering on the
instant that wax Mower-making was a
favorite amusement of Helen's. "Let me
The girl ran away.
I waited in intense anxiety, expecting
my darling, sure that I should see her, my
heart palpitating, my hands trembling.
At the sound of the step upon the stair
I started to my feet and stood ready to
clasp her to my arms, but alas ! only a
stout, elderly female, with a vulgar face,
and coarse, red hair, entered.
I shrank back as she stared at me in
surprise, and strove to compose myself.
"I desired to see the lady who made
this," I said.
"That's me, sir; I dispose of 'em," she
answered. "What can 1 do for you?"
"You I" I faltered. "I beg that you
will tell me from what that Mower was
copied, and where you obtained the
She looked at me in astonishment.
"Honestly," she said. "But, bless us,
you're not ill?"
"No," I said. "But that flower is an
old friend of mine; I will pay any sum for
information in regard to it."
The woman looked at me doubtfully.
I laid a five-dollar note upon the table.
"Tell me all you know of the plant
from which this was copied, 1 said.
She smiled her finger touched the
"It's breaking faith," she said, "but
1 II tell you. 1 didn t make n. I couldn't.
But, you see, a lady does 'em that boards
with me. I was her servant once, and
she's come down to earn her living that
way. That ain't for sale. It's one she
made for herself, to keep a flower she was
fond of before her eyes. But she makes
others beauties and she supports her
self and her blind father by it. lie's very
proud, and won't let it be known. So I
pretend it's me, and sell 'era."
My heart beat rapturously.
"Is she here?' I asked; "in this
The woman answered that they were,
but "would see no one."
"Give her this card," I said; "she will
And I waited once more in the little
parlor this time not in vain, for in a few
moments the door opened once more, and
I 'clasped my Helen, as beautiful and
charming as when I left her, to my
The tale is soon told. She loved me
still, and we were married, and beside our
happy fireside the old merchant eiyled his
days in peace and tranquility, and died
And still upon a stand in one of our
apartments nods the waxen lily in all its
golden splendor; and when I look upon it
I often think how small a price I paid for
it compared to its worth, for who would
have thought that when in my extrava
gance I gave all that I possessed for a
flower, that through its means I should
have found at last the joy and comfort
which now crown my days that by its
means my love should be restored to me ?
Philadelphia Sunday Transcript,
True society begins in the home.
When two young people love each other
and marry, they restore the pictures of
me apostouc cnurcn.
Ihey are one heart and one soul.
Neither do they say that anything they
possess is their own, but they have all
things in common. Their mutual
trust in each other, their entire confi
dence in each other, draws out all that
is nest m both. .Love is the angel who
rolls away the stone from the grave in
which we bury our better nature, and
it comes forth. Love makes all things
new; makes a new heaven and a new
earth; makes all cares light, all pain
easy. It is the one enchantment of
human life which realizes Fortanoi's
purse and Aladdin's palace, and turns
the "Arabian Nights" into mere prose
Think how this old storv of love is
repeated forever in all the novels and
romances and poems, and how we
never tire of reading about it; and how
if there is to be a wedding in a church
all mankind go, just to have one look
at two persons who are supposed, at
least, to be in love, and so supremely
nappy, uut tins, also, is not perfect
society. It is too narrow, too exclu
sive. It shows the power of devotion,
trust, self-surrender, that there is in
the human heart; and it is also a pro-
pnecy oi something larger that is to
come. 15ut it is at least a home, and
before real society can come, true
homes must come. As in a sheltered
uook iu the midst of the great sea of
ice which rolls down from the summit
of Mont Blanc is found a little green
spot full of tender flowers, so, in the
shelter of home, in the warm atmos
phere ot household love, spring up the
pure affections of parent and child;
father, mother, son, daughter; of
brothers and sisters. Whatever makes
this insecure, and divorce frequent,
makes of marriage not a union for life,
but an experiment which may be tried
as often as we choose, and abandoned
when we like. And this cuts up by the
roots all the dear affections of home;
leaves children orphaned, destroys
fatherly and motherly love, and is a
virtual dissolution of society.
I know the great difficulties of this
question, and how much wisdom is re
quired to solve them. But whatever
weakens the permanence of marriage
tends to dissolve society; for permanent
homes are to the social state what the
little cells are to the body. They are
the commencement of organic life, the
centers from which all organization
proceeds. Rev. James Freeman Clark
in Burlington Uawkeye.
THE END OF GREATNESS.
Alexander, after having climbed to
the dizzy heights of ambition, and,
witb. bio tomplos bouml with, ihaplctn
dipped in the blood of countless nations,
looked down upon a conquered world,
and wept that there was not another
city for him to conquer, set a city on
fire, and died in a scene of debauch.
Hannibal, after having, to the as
tonishment and consternation of Rome,
passed the Alps, after having put to
flight the armies of the mistress of the
world, and stripped three bushels of
gold rings from the fingers ot her
slaughtered knights, and made.her foun
dation quake tied from his country,
being chased by one of those who exult-
mgly united his name to that ot uod,
and called him Hanni Baal died at
last by poison administered by his own
hand, unlamented, unwept, in a foreign
Ca;sar, after having conquered eight
hundred cities, and dyed his clothes in
the blood of one million of his foes; after
having pursued to death the only rival
he had on earth, was miserably assas
sinated by those he considered his
nearest friends, and in that very place,
the attainment of which had been his
Bonaparte, whose mandate kings and
emperorB obeyed, after having filled lie
earth with the terror of his name, de
luged it with blood, and clothed the
world with sackcloth, closed his days
in lonely banishment almost ltierally
exiled from the world, yet where he
could sometimes see his country's ban
ner waving over the deep, but could
not, or would not bring him aid.
Thus, four great men, who, from the
i i i f j. i
peculiar situation oi tiieir portraits,
seemed to stand the representatives of
all the world calls great those four,
who each in turn made the world
tremble to its centre by their simple
tread, severally died one by intoxica
tion, or some suppose, by poison
mingled in wine; one a suicide; one
murdered by his friends, ana one m
LEARNING TO SWIM.
The best nlan for learners, whether
in fresh or salt water, is to attach a
cord to a tree, or boat, or tne macnine;
or, if these are not available, get a
companion to hold the end of the cord
on shore. With this cord tied round the
arm or waist, let the beginner walk out
till the water is up to his chin, and then
turn round and lace tne snore, lie
mav even then back out a little farther.
when he will find the force of the water
taking him off his legs, and he will then
find no difficulty in making a few
strokes, even at the first attempt, in
fact, hv holdiner the head well up. which
necessarily expands the chest, he will
find he cannot help nimseii irom swim
m'mff. or rather floating: and bv gently
thrusting out, and drawing in the
hands and feet, exactly in imitation of
the movement oi a trog in tne water, ne
will accomplish more in two or three
davs than in as manv weeks with the
corks or bladders that is, he will have
more confidence in himself, and Know
more of the power of the water to sus
tain him on its surface. A better
knowledge even of this he will have by
keeping his bacK to tne snore uu out in
deen water as far as he can go, then
throwing back his head, expanding his
chest, making, as it were, a curve with
the back, and allowing the legs to float
oat ward and from under him, he will
find that ms companion on snore coui u
draw him completely in without sirk
inor. A few such experiments, and
then he might, by the gentle action of
the hands and feet, work himself on '
shore. With the cord, the young be
ginner will have no fear, saving for a
few mouthfuls of water, and these he
will not care about so long as he learns
to swim. Boston Journal.
ROMANCE OF A COUNTESS.
Genevieve Ward, who will appear at
Booth's in this city next month, is in
reality a countess, and one of high
uegree. xnis was now it came about :
She studied originally to be a singer.
and did appear upon the operatic stage
I in ibo'j . i nen she went abroad to
study. Living quietly in Paris with
her mother, she became acquainted
with a llussiau count a real count
who belonged to an influential and
wealthy family. He was a man of
accomplishments and fascinating quali
ties, and when he asked the American
girl to be his wife, he found a heart
already conquered. They were mar
ried quietly at a Roman Catholic
church. In some way or other, by
means of a chance remark by some one,
she got an inkling on the wedding day
that the marriage would not be legal
iu jvussui unless ii was aiso celebrated
in a Russian church. When she asked
her husband about 't the same day, he
met the point verycomposedlv. admit
ted that this was true, but added that
there was ro Russian church iu Paris ;
that, as this was merely an additional
and formal ceremony, he had supposed
tout it might oe postponed until they
reached Milan, where they proposed
going, and where, he said, there was a
iuisco-u reeK church. To this his bride
replied that he might go on to Milan,
and she would follow with her ir other;
aim tney couiu be married there. The
impatient lover chafed at all this, but
the girl was firm about it. though she
does not seem to have begun to suspect
nun. lie obeyed her, and they jour
neyed to Milan by separate trains.
Alter they had arrived, he appeared
with a story that the Russian clergy
man was out of town, and an appeal
to her to forego this insistance upon a
mere formality and set out with him
upon their travels. Then the native
shrewdness of the girl asserted itself
over her love for this titled rascal. She
had inquiries made, and discovered
that the Russian priest was in town,
and likewise, that there was a Russian
church in Paris. Evidently the count
had been ly:ig to her, and with what
purpose was too evident. She con
fronted him with her knowledge, and
he, seeing the game was up, disap
peared. She returned to Paris, filled with a
determination to compel this man to
grant her redress. She went to the
American minister, and, not finding
him .in the city, laid her case, in the
innocence of her heart, before his
official representative, Mr. Donn Piatt.
Of Mr. Piatt's share in this history it
is perhaps well to say as little as possi
ble. It will be sufficient to say that
when the prefect of police demanded
Miss Ward's papers of him he gave
them up. By this time Miss Ward had
got her mental perspective adjusted,
and knew just what to do. Sli set
out for St. Petersburg with her mother;
took a house there, and entered tlu
best society of the capital. Their
letters gave them the entrance every
where; they had plenty of money and
entertaineu in handsome style; and the
New lork girl, whose mind was all
the while bent on a campaign of which
no one else knew, was soon the belle of
the season. When the waiter was
nearly over, when her position as reisn-
mg xavorite or tot. Petersburg was
tivmly established, wheu no great en
tertainment was considered complete
without a song from her, she began
operations. Up to this time there had
been ro :gn oi her semi-husband, but
she had ascertained as soon as she ar
rived in Russia that all that had been
said of the power and wealth of his
family was true. The visible proof of
it was fourd in t'le iact that his brother
was one of t le government ministers,
and enjoyed the special confidence of
the Czar. This only nerved her i'or the
effort Lhe was to make, the more so as
this minister was a constant attendant
a j her receptions, and acted very
much as if he were himself in love
She asked, through the American
minister, an opportunity of making a
statement to the C ir concerning one
of his officers. This was granted, and
without giving names she told her
story. The Czar was indignant and
declared that this o licer should sillier
whatever punishment she demanded.
He caned in his minister, the brother
of the culprit, who vowed that such a
mau should not be allowed to remain
ii the armies of the Czar. His uniform
should be stripped from him. Then
there was a dramatic scene when the
Ctr asked the name of the offender,
and she gave it. The brother exclaimed
in a transport of rage, perhaps of dis
appointed love and jealousy, "he shall
be hanged!" Rut she said she would
not have indignities put upon him.
She fel; herself above revenge; all that
she asked was mst'ce.
A peremptory order was dispatched
to the post at which Count was
stationed, requiring his immediate ap
pearance bevore the Czar. He came, ot
course ; counts are prompt when Czars
command. He was confronted with
the disclosure, and told by the Czar
that he roust comply with the lady's
demand, which was that he fulfill his
piomise by completing the marriage
ceremony. Now, manlike, this count
was taken with the spirit and courage
and brilliant cleverness of the girl
whom he had once sought to deceive.
He would have liked to begin a second
wooing before the second marriage,
and would have been glad, no doubt
the match once settled, to be a devoted
husband to such a rare woman. But
he was very coolly received, and an
unnrstakable intimation was given
that he need not present himself until
the day of the ceremony, and then at
the church. The day came, and the
half married maid apieared, dressed
wholly in black: her mo-her also in
black. The soirbre bride met her hus
band at the altar, for she would not
even walk up the aisle with him. The
ceiemouy was performed. At its cm-
elusion she made him a stately salute,
walked do .vn the aisle and out of the
church; stepped into the carriage wli'ch
was m readiness for a ?ong journey,
and set out at once for the frontier.
She has never seen her husband since.
"Ah," says some, "what a romantic
story 1 What a pity it isn't true!"
But it is true. It is a romance in real
life where all the romances arc that
arc worthy of the name.
Miss Ward belongs to an old and
highly respectable New York family.
and her f..ther is the famous Sam Ward,
or Washington. JSew 1 ork (JorresjioH
dence Cincinnati Gazette.
Bismarck weighs 24:5 pounds.
"Metallic Blue" will le one of the
new and popular shades the coming
M. Taine is fifty years old, and
lives handsomely in the midst of the
Faubourg St. Germain, Paris.
The California newspapers legin
to complain of the tramp nuisance,
and are considering means for relief.
A green caterpillar is doing much
damage to the quince trees along the
Cumberland Valley, in Pennsylvania.
English town councils are calling
new streets and squares "Cyprus," in
commemoration of the recent acquisi
A crescent-shaped pin, set with
colored pearls and diamonds, may be
worn as lace pin, hair ornament or
According to official reimrts there
are in New York City 87.r. places
where malt and spirituous liquors are
sold at retail.
Judge William Thomas, of Jack
sonville, 111., a veteran jurist of ninety-
two years, is away on a wedding tour
with a bride of seventy-live years.
The daughter of Prince Frederick
Charles of Prussia marries the king of
the Netherlands, a man who w;us mar
ried to one wife three years Ijel'oro his
present bride was liorn.
The exclusive influence of the mo
ther over the son for the most part
ends in positive disaster or compara
tive failure; and licentious self-indulgence,
effeminacy or priggishness is
tho ahoo.it rtuie. result of the cxici'i
meiit. London IVutk.
Mrs. Fanny Washington Finch,
the great grand-niece of George Wash
ington, and supposed to be the nearest
of living kin to him, is in real need iu
Washington. She has been keeping a
Ijoarding-house, and recently her fur
niture was placed under attachment as
security for arrears of rent.
The fall wholes-ale trade in this
city has opened with much activity,
and despite the injury to southern
business by the spread of yellow fever,
the Sides have already ljoen remarkably
large. Prices are generally lower than
at any previous period since the war,
but they are lelieved to have "touched
bottom," and the feeling among mer
chants is hopeful. New York Fust.
The Trenton (X.J.) dazeltc says
the business of building in that city is
improving, and that quite a number of
new houses and stores will be com
pleted this fall. A number of hitherto
unoccupied tracts of land are now
giaced by rows of fine brick dwellings
and stores, and streets that used to
wear a dismal, churchyard aspect, have
been livened into quite a business like
A clergyman iu Australia, being
disgusted with the number of three
penny pieces he found in the plate
every Sunday, studied the subject, and
instead of paying the small silver coins
into the bank, locked them up iu his
desk. The result was marvellous.
After some I:'.) of small coin had lM;en
withdrawn from circulation sixpences
and shillings took their places on the
plate, and latest accounts speak en
couragingly of the increased amount
derived from the weekly contribu
tions. At the Turkish table the hostess
is the first to dip her sjiooii into the
soup tureen, politely inviting her
guests to do the same. It is consid
ered a great mark of attention on the
part of the hostess to pick up the
daintiest bit of food and place it in tho
mouth of any of her guests. European
manners have lately been rapidiy gain
ing ground, however, and a writer tells
of seeing women provided with forks,
which for style they pretended to use,
but for business they still depend on
the thumb and forefinger and the re
suit of the fork, which they still clung
to, was an occasional gored cheek and
a bleeding nose.
When a woman has a new pair of
shoes sent home she performs altogether
different from a mau. She never shoves
her toes into them and yanks and hauls
until she is red in the face and all out of
breath and then goes stamping and
kicking around, but pulls them on part
way carefully, twitches them off again,
to take a last look and see if she has
got the right one, pulls them on again,
looks at them dreamily, says they are
just right, then takes another look,
stops suddenly to smooth out a wrinkle,
twists around and surveys them side
ways, exclaims "Mercy, how loose they
are, ' ' looks at them agaiusquare iu front
works her foot around so they won't
hurt her quite so much, takes them off',
looks at the heel, the toe, the bottom
and the inside, puts them on again,
walks up and down the room once or
twice, remarks to her better-half that
she won't have them at any price, tilts
down the mirror so she can see how they
look, turns iu every possible direction
and nearly dislocates her neck trying
to see how they look from that way,
backs off, steps up again, takes thirty
or forty farewell looks, says they make
her feet look awful big and never will
do in the world, puts them off" and
on two or three times more, asks her
husband what he thinks about it and
then pays no attention to what he says,
goes thraugh it all again and finally
says she will take them. It s a very
simple matter. Bridjiort Standard,