Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 01, 1908, Image 1
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and the faint, fine shadows along tne
carved wall.
"Is it really true," she murmured,
"that you never loved any woman before
me? Let me hear you say it
J By ETTA
CHAPTER XXXI.
A Girl's Tears.
The wintry moonlight was falling
in the long avenues of Windmere, and
over the bare, frostbitten terraces.
Mignon, standing in a low, wide window
with that white radiance on her
brightly Joyous face, gazed out into
the night, and clung a little closer to
the arm on which she leaned.
"1 am so happy, Paget!" she whispered
to her lover. "Yes, I know that
, I am too happy."
He smiled as he looked down upon
her soft, childish beauty?to him the
most beguiling upon earth.
"It is impossible for you to be too
happy," he answered. "Little darling,
f for whom was happiness made, 11
not for you? The sadder things of
life shall never come near you while
I have power to keep them away."
She lifted her face In the moonlight?
I
"Fair, not pale."
, A half-blown Catherine Mermet
k rose was in her hand; a faint smile
J parted her red lips. Her eyes wore a
meditative expression. Behind the
lovers stretched the long hall with a|
blaze of hickory logs on the hearth,
> make you very angry, rag^-?
a stern look about your eyes sometimes
that bodes ill to evil doers. You
might cease to care for me altogether
?you might despise?detest me, perhaps."
He kissed the last word passionately
from her lips.
"How dare you talk such heresy?
Nothing could make me despise you!
I would as soon think of an angel of
light doing wickedly as you, my little
Mignon."
"But"?
| "But should the impossible become
possible?why, I would forgive you,
darling?I would hide you and your
sin together deep down in my heart
of hearts."
He fancied that he was talking to
an innocent child; but she who listened
was, alas! a woman, daring everything.
defying everything, to secure
a forbidden love. Her violet eyes
k shone like twin star>.
"I will never doubt you again?nerk
er!" she cried. Joyfully. "I want you
to believe that I, too, loved you in
r your ocean tower. Never before had
I known a real passion. It was you
I who awakened my heart, and changed
the world for me."
"How can I doubx it?" he answered.
ardently. "Why, you are a mere
child still?a lily, whose petals have
hardly unfolded."
She had that day been dining at
Windmere, with Mrs. Ellicott and a
few other guests. Pinner was now
over. The lovers had slipped away
for a tete-a-tete in that moonlit window.
From the neighboring drawing
% t U A *?/? _
room came a num ui v??n.-c?, uic i?ille
of coffee cups, an etude of Thalberg.
Mignon nestled her golden
head against her lover's shoulder, his
r arm encircled her lissom body.
"My king!" she whispered, proudly.
solemnly, and he, from the depths
of his adoring heart, replied:
"Darling?precious darling!"
At that moment a man entered the
hall by the main door. It was impossible
for him to avoid seeing the
lovers. As his eyes fell upon them he
gave an involuntary start. Paget Fassel.
remembering the secrecy that
was supposed to invest nis engagc^
ment, withdrew his arm reluctantly
from his betrothed. She looked ui>?
i grew frightfully pale and dropped the
Catherine Mermet rose.
1 "That man!" ,?np easped.
"It is Aunt Latimer's physician."
answered Fassel, in a lew voice. "She
had a nervous attack at dinner, and
persisted in sending for him."
Forbearing to glance a second time
at the window. Nigel Hume ascended
the carved stair. Aunt Latimer was
in her own chamber. He presented
" * * 1?? n Oinintonunno
nimst'll Demre lier, mill u.
gloomy, distrait.
, "You see that I am utterly prostrated
tonight, doctor," groaned the old
woman, from the depths of an invalid
chair. "My nerves are all on edge.
I must have something quieting?a
little chloral would not come amiss.
(I nearly fainted at table."
"Now what is the meaning of all
this?" demanded Hume, kindly, but
firmly.
"First of all." said Aunt Latimer.
In a feebly aggrieved voice, "nobody
?not even Fclith?tells me anyining
In this house. T am supposed to be
unable to keep a secret. Yet I can
see some things. I am not altogether
1 imbecile. Today, at dinner, I watched
my nephew Paget?Paget, whom
no woman could ever before subdue.
He sat next Mignon HUlyer?I saw
him look at her. Oh! oh!" shaking
^ her head dolefully, "that was enough.
She Is charming?she will be a great
heiress; but the Influence of the Elli
I
x x=:-^ J ,
. W. PIERCE. J
I nnttc nnnn thft Fassels is evil?evil. I
Any second attempt to unite the two
families will surely bring disaster upon
us all. I am frlghtene, . Dr. Hume?
I am tori, with preser.'iinents."
As a sensible man, it was Hume's
duty to laugh at this outbreak; but
unluckily, he had presentiments of
his own, so he only said:
"Be calm, Mrs. Latimer. You are
making yourself ill for nothing."
"Ah. doctor, can you wonder that
the bare thought of another 'ove affair
betwixt a Fassel and any creature
of the Elllcott blood quite unnerves
me? Remember Edith's hu
miliation?her ungated nopes?ucr
broken heart"?
"Aunt Latimer!"
From the far end of the room,
where she had been concealed in
shadow, Edith Fassel glided quietly
forward. Her trailing dinner dress
shone with a dull blue lustre. In her
hair a diamond star sparkled like
fire.
"My heart is not, and never has
been, broken," she said, sweetly.
"When you talk like that, you make
me feel like a gigantic cheat, dear
Aunt Latimer." Her mystic eyes put
on a weary look. "It is hard to maintain
a falsehood, year after year, you
know, even when one's motive is
good."
"My dear?" cried Aunt Latimer,
helplessly.
"Do I not make my meaning plain
* ~ """ *> T n rr\ tipoH nf T & net Flli,"Ott's
IU y KJ U . X Uii! VII vu V? ?x
name. I never loved him living or
dead. True. I was fond of him in a
sisterly way, until I discovered what
a poor weak coward he was?after
that I simply despised him."
"Edith!" cried Aunt Latimer, in
shocked amaze.
She had not once looked at Hume,
but. somehow, her words seemed directed
to some other than the old
woman in the chair. Her voice took
a cheerful, almost joyous tone.
"For Mrs. Ellicott's sake, I have
held my peace, and let the world
think as it would; but one grows
weary of dissembling?of being always
misunderstood. The humiliation
that Lepel brought upon me was
not too great a price to pay for my
escape from him. Had he married
me I must have been the most miserable
of mortals."
again, Paget."
"It is absolutely true," he replied,
with a fervor that might have laid to
rest the darkest doubt. "You were
made for me?I see it now. I waited
long, lonely years, mateless, restless,
and at last you came to your lover?
ah. you were well worth waiting for!"
She trembled a little in his embrace.
Her face, silvered over by the moon_
light, was like that of an angel. What
* man in his senses could have associated
the thought of guile with that
delicate, dainty loveliness?
"If you ever love me less," she
? A ,.j, ,?jn hp time for me to
wrnspeceu, n .....
die!"
He laid his bronzed cheek upon her
golden hair.
ft "And if death does not come till I
I cease to love you, Mignon, you may
look upon yourself as immortal."
*' "Death is not the only thing that
parts human hearts," she faltered. "I
| might do some wicked thing, and
horn iQ
"I am astonished at you!" said poor
Aunt Latimer.
She drew a deep breath, as though
she had thrown off some burden.
"I am astonished at myself, Aunt
Latimer," she answered brightly;" at
my own prolonged hyprocrisy. Pity
for Mrs. Ellicott must be my excuse.
I feared to speak the truth, lest
I should open a'l her old sad wounds."
Hume's heart was beating with suffocating
strokes. Suddenly she turned
her proud, dark glance upon him,
and with a smile, said:
"Dr. Hume, I wish you would Induce
your patient to come down to the
drawing room again, and entertain her
guests, and forget her forebodings."
He remembered the sight he had
seen in the hall window, and shook
his head.
"Mrs. Latimer will do well to remain
here for the rest of the evening. I
will leave her a sedative."
And soon after he turned to go.
Miss Fassel, standing by her aunt's
chair, watched him quietly.
"May I ask you to step outside a
moment?" he said, in p. low, embarrassed
voice. "I have something to
tell you which Mrs. Latimer must not
hear."
Without a word she followed him.
He closed the door on his patient. A
j
cluster of lights burning near snoweu
him the vivid crimson pulsing in Miss
Fassel's cheek.
"Do not be alarmed," he said, stiffly.
"I am not going to allude to any past
madness of mine" It was an unfortunate
beginning. A woman does not
like to hear that her sway is a thing
of the past. Miss Fassel grew a trifle
more regal. "It is difficult for me to
pick my words," he went on, with
studied coldness, "but you must be
warned. I beg to ask if your brother
is engaged to Miss Hillyer?"
She drew back a step.
"I am not at liberty to answer that
question, Dr. Hume."
"Let us hope that he is not, for Miss
Hillyer can never marry him."
"And why?" she asked, coldly.
"For reasons that have existed for
years?good and sufficient reasons," he
answered.
"Perhaps you will mention one."
"Unfortunately, I cannot!"
"Ah," she said, with a faint curl of
the lip, "you have no friendly feeling
for Miss Hillyer?she is your aunt's
heiress!"
The words were not out when she
would fain have recalled them. He
grew pale, as though she had dealt him
a hard thrust.
"You dislike me too much to be
just," he said, huskily; "but I warn
vou again?Miss Hillyer cannot marry
your brother."
"Why do you say this to me? Would
.it not be better to go to Paget, or to
Miss Hillyer herself?"
"Without doubt?pardon my stupidity,"
he answered, in a bitter voice; and
with a flush of anger on his face he
went off down the stair.
The moonlit window was now deserted.
Hume, inwardly cursing the
fate which had entangled him with all
these people, passed out through the
entrance door at Windmere, and descended
the steps to the long driveway.
There a slender figure, hatless, cloak
less, darted rrom tne sneuer or me
nearest tree, and faced him in the
moonlight?M ignon.
"Oh, I)r. Hume," she said, in sharp
appeal, "what do you mean to do?"
"That is a question which I might,
with good reason, propound to you,"
he replied, sternly.
She pressed her hand to her heart.
"Oh, do not speak so loud! I stole
away from the drawing room to meet
you here, when you should come out.
Show me a little mercy!"
"What mercy are you showing these
Fassels? You owe them some consideration.
do you not? They are
Mrs. Ellicott's intimate friends."
Her small, childish face was gray
with fear.
"I know, and I am very weak, very
wicked. But answer me one question,
Dr. Hume. Did you ever love any person
with all your heart and soul?so
dearly, so entirely, that the world
*n hnm nr> nthur?that nnthinr
else in the wild universe was of any
Importance to you?"
He was dumb.
"You understand me, I see. Then
give me a little time to find out if I am
still bound"?
"You are still bound!" said Hume,
sharply. "Do not doubt It! Andy Gaff
lives, and you are his wife."
She gave a despairing cry, and the
hand which had been pressed to her
heart fell helplessly at her side. Under
her feet the frosty pebbles glistened
in the moonlight; over her uncovered
head the bare branches of the
trees rattled mournfully in the wind.
"You have found out for certain?"
she shuddered.
"You have seen some one from Cape
Desolation?"
"Yes."
She trembled, and seemed unable to
frame another question.
"I cannot, all In a moment," she
murmured, faintly, "break my own
heart and?his. I must have a little
preparation?one week?two weeks?I
then I will tell him. But no sooner?
oh, no sooner! You will not deny me
a short reprieve?"
It was Hume's misfortune that he
could never feel anything: but compassion
for this unhappy girl.
"You cannot escape from these complications
without trouble," he said.
"You have allowed an honorable man
to make love to you. Take my advice,
and without delay confess everything
to him, or Miss Fassel."
"Oh, I cannot!" she answered, in
alarm: "not yet?not yet!" and she
burst Into wild weeping1. "You are like
an executioner who holds the ax above
my neck. I ask your mercy for only a
fortnight longer?one little fortnight!"
Like all men, Hume had a horror of
woman's tears.
"You will not listen to reason," he
said, impatiently. "Well, have your
way. But remember what I told you
at the ball. These Fassels are nothing
to me." with cold indifference; "yet, I
must keep you from dragging their
good name in the mire. I will remain
silent, then, for another two weeks?
not a day longer. It is the last favor
[ can show you."
"I will ask for nothing more, Dr.
Hume," she replied, In a queer, stifled
voice.
Hp staJkod awav. and left her stand
Ing there in the moonlight, her face as
white as hoar frost, but on her lips a
wicked little smile of triumph.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Restored.
Stretched upon a table, in a private
operating room, lay a man, breathing
heavily under the Influence of ether.
By his side stood Nigel Hume, in
white gown and rubber apron, with
some delicate gleaming instrument in
his hand. Dr. Bellamy and one or two
assistants were stationed close by,
their faces full of professional interest.
Hume had just removed from the
skull of the man on the table an ugly
splinter of wood, which for years had
been pressing on the very stronghold
or tnougni ana reason, nrsi iu auopect
the presence of such a substance
there, the young fellow had made a
thorough examination of Andy Gaff,
and operated with perfect success.
A deeply depressed bone was deftly
raised, and wound cleansed, the scalp
replaced. Hume stood looking thoughtfully
down on his patient.
"Strange," he mused, "that I, of all
men, should be selected by a mysterious
fate to make this discovery!"
Andy Gaff was consigned to a trained
nurse, and Hume, true to his kindly
nature, hastened to inform Bess Hillyer
of his successful operation.
"Behold the confirmation of my suspicions!"
he said, producing the splinter.
"A club was broken over Andy's
head?here is the portion which remained
in the wound, to work no end
of mischief. I am more than curious
to know what effect its removal will
have upon the man. He must be kept
perfectly quiet for the present, but
you shall hear news of him continually."
Hume's patient slept like a child.
During his waking hours he was silent,
and apparently thoughtful, answering
his nurse only in monosyllables. When
Hume was present his eyes followed
the surgeon in a puzzled, astonished
way.
"He is pulling himself together,"
was Hume's inward comment. One
day he discovered something in Andy's
countenance that made his heart beat
high. "Your head reels Dener, aoes it
not?" he asked, with feigned carelessness.
Ardy raised one hand to the
rapidly healing wound.
"I will answer your question by asking
another," he said, dryly. "What
is the matter with my head?"
"Well," replied Hume, "you've been
a trine off, for a space back, and I, Dr.
Nigel Hume, quite at your service, have
had the good luck to perform an operation
which seems to have relieved you
somewhat."
"Ah!"
"This Is my house?you are my guest.
Don't disturb yourself in any way.
For several reasons my interest in you
is extraordinary. Strange to say, your
face seems changing daily before my
eyes. You now bear a curious resemblance
to some person that I have
seen before, but cannot call by name"?
"Hold on!" interrupted the patient,
brusquely; "is this house of yours in
Maine or Massachusetts?"
"Bravo! Your memory is asserting
itself. You are at the Hub, my dear
fellow?in its very heart. By and by I
will bring an old friend to see you, who
will tell you everything you wish to
know."
An hour or two after, the surgeon
entered the room again, and with him
came Bess Hillyer. The patient put
out his hand in quick recognition.
"Bess! Is it you?"
"Yes?yes!" she answered, and looked
as though she was about to faint.
"Where is Rose??where is my wife?
In Heaven's name, am I spending my
honeymoon in the house of this Dr.
Hume?"
She took his extended hand. Her
own trembled. The months and years
which had elapsed betwixt his marriage
and the present hour were as a
blank to him now.
"You were married a Ions' time ago,"
said Bess, gently. "Try to think?try
to remember the day, and what happened,
when you went to the Hillyer
tomb with Rose. Some one was waiting
there?surely you have not forgotten?
You received a dreadful blow,
and from that time to this you have
realized nothing."
He looked impatiently around.
"But Rose?Rose!" he repeated;
"Where is she. I say?"
"Rose is safe and well. You must
not agitate yourself. By and by we
will talk more."
When she was outside the door with
Hume, the latter said, bluntly:
"You need not think to shield Rose?
it is impossible! You must tell Andy
everything."
"No, no!"
"But the duty is imperative?you
cannot evade it," he said.
Something in his tone startled her.
"What do you mean?"
"Rose is in love with another man,
who has not the smallest suspicion
that a being like Andy Gaff exists.
She made a step backward.
"Dr. Hume, can this be true?"
"Unfortunately?yes."
"And the man?"
"His name is Fassel. He is a most
honorable and distinguished gentleman,
and I hear that he is madly in
love with Rose. We, who are familiar
with her fascinations, cannot
doubt it."
"Go to him!" gasped the sailor
girl. "Warn him that Rose is not a
free woman. Why, she must be mad!"
"Pardon me," answered Hume,
dryly. "I must beg to be excused. Her
husband is the proper person to interfere.
Tell Andy the truth?the
whole truth. To withhold it now
would be highly reprehensible."
"You are right," assented Bess. "I
will come to-morrow and bring Martha
Bray;" and she went her way.
heavy of heart.
Hume, ODeying an aurac-uun wnn.n
he could not wholly explain, returned
to his patient.
"Andy, have you no relatives?" he
asked, warily; "no friends save the
Hillyers?"
The face of the patient clouded.
"How can I tell?" he replied. "A
man who has been dead for years
cannot expect to find a place again
with the living, or to be owned of
them."
"Strange that no inquiries were
made concerning you at the time of
your misfortune?that none have been
made since that date."
"Not in the least strange?I fixed
my affairs beforehand."
"You mean"?
"Never mind my meaning now?I
would rather not explain it."
"One thing Is certain?you - have
no right to be called Andre Gautler."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you are American and the
name has an outlandish sound. You
probably assumed it for some particular
occasion."
"I did!" confessed the patient,
gloomily; "and now I may be forced
to keep it till the end of my days, as
a punishment for my sins.
The next morning Bess Hillyer appeared
again at the door of Andy
Gaff's room. He was reclining in an
easy chair, absorbed evidently in his
own thoughts. Martha Bray, who attended
her mistress, held up both
hands at sight of him.
"Whoever would have believed it!"
cried the cape woman. "Why, it's the
very man that first came a-courting
Rose at Hillyer's Cove! Gracious
Lawd! Mr. Andy"?her suddenly respectful
tone telling plainer than
words how deeply she was impressed
by his changed appearance?"you've
got all your old looks back again. I
calkerlate you'll never mend nets any
more."
He motioned Bess to draw nearer.
"Why have you not brought Rose?"
he demanded. "Why are you keeping
my wife from me? Have I not
been mystified enough?"
Bess quietly dismissed Martha Bray.
The twain, thus left together, looked
at each other?he questioning, she
sad but determined.
"I am here to tell you everything,"
she said, "since it is sin for me to keep
silent longer."
Then, briefly and plainly she set
before him all the events which had
happened since his marriage night?
his own mental eclipse?the long,
dreary period when he had mended
Caleb's nets in the cottage porch?Hume's
fateful visit to the cape?
Mrs. Ellicott's offer of a fortune, and
her own rejection of the same.
"Andy," she said, "you were sitting
with us at the cottage the day Mrs.
Ellicott's letter arrived, and you
heard us talking of it, and you cried
out 'Go!' as though you understood
the wonderful opportunity that was
held out to me. Uncle Caleb bade me
an inn Hut Rnsp was in rreat trnu
hie?wildly rebellious against her lot
?and I could not leave her. Oh. you
must not be hard in your judgment
of Rose, nor blame her too much! She
was desperate?reckless. I wrote an
answer to Mrs. Ellicott. and gave it
to Rose to post. T know now that she
never sent it. After her adventure
with Mr. Hume in the boat, she made
her way. somehow, to my rich kinswoman?she
took my name?she impersonated
me!"
He had not moved a muscle nor ut
tered a sound. His face was turned
away from her. but she knew that he
was listening intently.
"Rose is in Mrs. Ellicott's house today,"
went on Hess. "She is to inherit
her wealth. I have this information
from Dr. Hume, who is the lady's
nephew, and would have been her
heir, after the death of Lepel Ellieott.
had not some unfortunate quarrel
separated them. Here are the two
letters which Rose wrote after her
flight." She laid them on Andy's
knee. He took them up?read them
mechanically.
" Ton my soul," he said, with a
short, mirthless laugh, "she has play
I'd lier films Mt-n;
"Andy, we must make 'such excuses
as we can for her. She was so young,
so beautiful, and she always longed
for wealth and pleasure?to see the
world."
"Let me grapple with the facts as
I find them. She has stolen your
name, crept Into the place that belonged
to you alone, robbed you of a
fortune"?
"You speak too harshly. From my
heart I forgive her everything."
He |ftnred moodily into space.
"And all this bother comes from the
death of one man?that scoundrel, Lepel
Ellicott."
"I never heard that he was a scoundrel,"
said Bess, startled.
"Oh, but he was! Surely, Bess, some
of the fellow's dishonorable deeds
must. have reached your ears."
"You forget that I was a total
stranger to the Elllcotts, although a
remote relative. Even Dr. Hume never
saw his cousin."
"No great misfortune that! By the
way, Bess, why did you not turn me
out, after Rose's desertion? Why did
you continue to burden yourself with
the wretched idiot that she had forsaken?"
"Uncle Caleb and I could not turn
you out. We never found you a burden.
While we had a home, we meant
that you should share it. And it was
well for me," sadly smiling, "that we
never thought of parting with you.
Think of the night when you saved me
on the cliffs."
"Did I really do that?" he asked,
thoughtfully. "Then it must have been
blind instinct which directed me. You
were my one friend, Bess?in spite of
my mental darkness, I suppose I somehow
recognized the fact. Recall my
first visit to Hillyer's Cove?to Caleb's
cottage." He shuddered involuntarily.
"I felt a strange foreboding of evil at
sight of the house that night?a sickening
disgust, incomprehensible at the
time. Some supernatural power must
have whispered to me of my future
sufferings there. At any rate, the preoontlmoni
,\t ill woe mnst oiiHnuslv
verified."
Her handsome face told how deeply
she was moved.
"But now you are yourself again,"
she said, cheerfully.
"Yes?thanks to you and to Mrs.
Ellicott's nephew!'
When she spoke of the curious letter
written by Susan Taylor to Captain
Ira Berry, Andy made no comment
whatever?only stared. In undisguised
trepidation. Bess hurried on to the fiia'
disclosure.
'Now," she said, "the worst of all
remains to be told! Rose believes you
to be lead?yes, I am sure she believes
that!?and?she has found another
lover!"
Ho gave a violent start.
"You must interfere immediately,"
urged Bess, in an anxious, troubled
voice; "you must save Rose from further
sin. It is rumored in the city that
she is betrothed?this I heard from Dr.
Hume. I begged him to do something,
but he refused. He thinks it is your
business?not his. Do not waste a moment.
She will suffer shame, exposure,
loss; but no alternative is left you?
Rose must be prevented from working
any more harm to herself or to others."
"Who is the lover?" he asked, sharply.
"His name is Fassel. He is rich and
distinguished, and he loves her dearly."
He uttered an exclamation.
"You know him?" cried Bess.
"Well?a trifle."
"Oh, I am sure something ought to
be done immediately."
"My poor brave Bess, something shall
be done!" he replied, in a grave, determined
voice
To be Continued.
FISHERMEN'S SUPERSTITIONS.
Dancing F'or Salmon?Words Jo Be
Avoided When Baiting a Hook.
In British Columbia the Indians
ceremoniously went to meet the first
salmon and in flattering voices tried to
win their favor by calling them all
chiefs.
Every spring in California the Karaks
used to dance for salmon. Meanwhile
one of their number secluded
himself in the mountains and fasted
for ten days. Upon his return he solemnly
approached the river, took the
first salmon of the catch, ate some of
it and with the remainder lighted a
sacrificial fire. The same Indians laboriously
climbed to the mountain top
after the poles for the spearing booth,
being convinced that if they were
gathered where the salmon were
watching no fish would be caught.
Very widespread, in fact, is this native
belief of the necessity of caution
whenever Adam is on fishing bent.
In Japan among the primitive race
of the Ainos even the women left at
home are not allowed to talk lest the
fish may hear and disapprove, while
the first fish is always brought in
through a window instead of a door
so the other fish may not see.
The Esquimau women of Alaska
never sew while the men are fishing,
and should any mending be imperative
they do it shut up in little tents
out of sight of the sea.
Under no circumstance on the [
northeast coast of Scotland will a fisherman
at sea mention certain objects
on land, such as "minister," "kirk,"
"swine," "dog," etc., and the line will
surely be lost if a pig is seen while I
baiting it. As on the land chickens
must not be counted until they are
hatched, so at sea fish must not be
counted until they are all caught. It
is good luck to find mice nibbling
among the nets; a horseshoe nailed
to the mast will help, and a herring
caught and salted down will produce
wonders.
In the Shetland Islands a cat must
not be mentioned before a man baiting
his line and among the Magyars of
Hungary a fisherman will turn back
and wait over a tide if he meets a
woman wearing a white apron.
Every year the natives of the Duke
of York Island decorate a canoe with
flowers and fern, fill it with shell mo
ney and cast it adrift "to compensate
the fish for their fellows caught and
eaten."
It was always the custom of the
Maoris, the primitive inhabitants of
New Zealand, to put the first fish that
they caught back into the sea "with a
prayer that it might tempt other fish
to come and be caught."
If the fish did not come soon enough
in British Columbia the Indians
used to employ a wizard, who made an
image of a swimming fish and put it
in the water to attract live fish to bait.
?bos Angeles Times.
.**' When is a newspaper like a delicate
child? When it appears weekly*
it":" A married man thinks he could
have saved a lot of money had he remained
a bachelor, but he couldn't.
iUiscrllancou.s Reading.
NEW HATS ARE GIGANTIC.
Huge Crowns and Brims Larger Than
Ever.
At ine rirsi IHll upemn^ ui miiistrnng,
Catnr & Co., held recently, were
shown the advance styles of the fall
season's hats. As on previous occasions
the display was large and comprehensive.
and many exquisite examples
of fashionable millinery were exhibited
to the admiring crowd of buyers.
I cannot be truthfully said, however
that many of the fall styles In
hats are individually beautiful. They
are only pretty as compared with other
hats of the present. Indeed, the mil- j
linery outlook is dark and gloomy.
There are murmurs of revolt against
the styles, and if Hobson, the warlike,
were interviewed on the subject he
might say the following:
Prepare for war, prepare! Make
ready for carnage; get out the battle-[
ships and polish up the armor and the I
coats of mail. There is going to be a
civic strife. And the cause? The winter's
hats! This broad land, this glorious
nation that the politicians allude
to so tenderly is going to be divided
against itself, and, therefore, according
to Aesop's fable, the number 23 must
fall. Such a sad, sad strife, too, as will
overtake us! Men united against wo- |
men: sweethearts against lovers: wives
against husbands, and sisters against
brothers. And somewhere in the middle,
to augment the feeling and stir up
the trouble, will be the milliners.
For, let it be said at once, the hats
are broader, larger, taller and wider
than the famous Merry Widows. Well,
it is a dire prophecy to make when
the weather is so warm, but an eminent
authority on the habit of the sex masculine
has said that the men will not
stand larger hats. Of course, everybody
knows there are reasons for such
an assertion.
In the first place, with the increase
in size of the hat comes the increase
in the bill?and that is a subject worth
mentioning. Secondly, the nerve-racking,
soul-piercing, altogether-hurtful
propensities of the Merry Widows have
already overstepped the patience that J
a mere man is said never to possess.
An added inch to the width of a brim, J
an increased $1 to the bill will be the
straw to swing the scales too far.
Seriously speaking, though, the hats
as seen this early in the season are to
be feared. Of course, the styles may
change later and such freaks may fall
by the wayside, but at present the outlook
is bad. To be truthful, there isn't
any outlook; the hats leave no room.
Not only are the brims wider than last
season, but the crowns are huge, monumental,
colossal. Some of them are
seven inches, others have the appear
~ n lnonlncr f AU'Pr of Pi.Qf|?
clllt'C Ul u. Olk/Uk iVUiiuiM vw W
There are Tam-O'-Shanter crowns
large enough to cover that well-known
gentleman and his entire family. Some
shapes resemble inverted kitchen utensils.
such as the humble dlshpan. Firemen's
jhelmets are quite popular, too,
and derbies, the sort favored by the
king of England, and felt stovepipes
are designed to adorn fair heads.
Just how little women and plump
women and dowagers will look In these
topheavy concoctions is a subject too
portentous to contemplate. Picture an
inverted dishpan with a 24-Inch brim
and an 8-inch crown resting lightly on
a person five feet tall! And they will
.ill wear them, of course. They will
find the biggest they can. They will be
laughed at by their brothers, joked
about by the cartoonists and the funny
men, and?maybe?there will be that
'Mre revolt mentioned previously.
So long as the revolution is only
mentioned, however, there is no serious
danger and it is well to know a
few of the fads, even If their adoption
forebodes ill.
There are some lovely colors, such
il - 1 A^f? Kill A
as nue Diue, it iuvci,v ucm u>uv.,
taupe, the old smoked gray, or ele-1
ohant's brefith, masquerading under a
new name, and rosewood, a shade that
is a cross between mahogany and old
r< se. Most of the hats flare up sharply
>n the right or left side, arid the number
of large crowns is marked.
To increase the size of the crowns,
the newest device there is In the collar
effect of wings, finished off with a
big cluster of large wings at the front
>r left side. This collar effect is seen
'ftcn, too, in cascades of quilled ribbon
and ostrich plumes. The new method
>f trimming is directly in the front i
>r at the right side, and the fancy
Iuills and aigrettes are frequently stood
>orpendicularly against the crown.
Some of the crowns slope as do the
milk pail and others flare out and puff.
The buckles that are to be such a
'nature of the season are mammoth, to
correspond with the crowns. Some of
them are six and eight inches long,
\mong the popular felts will be the
short nap beaver, and velvet and satin
ind the new Ottoman silk will be used
'n combination on brims and crowns.
Fancy braids and trimmings, some
passementerie effects, and cretonne
will be arranged on many of the hats.
Persian effects will still be popular.
As a contrast to the huge hats there
will be worn also some jaunty little
toques, close-fitting and trimmed wun
quills and soft curling plumes. The
directolre hat Is the fad of the fall
and winter. It is like the familiar
mushroom sailor and is finished with
long fringed loops of ribbon fastened
on each side of the edge of the brim
and arranged to tie under the chin or
to form a band effect around the neck
and droop down over the shoulder.?
Baltimore Sun.
Tai.kixc! Down?The superintendent
of a Sunday school class in Philadelphia
recently called upon a visitor to
"say a few words" to the class, the
members of which are mostly children
of a tender age.
The visitor, a speaker well known for
his verbose and circumlocutory mode
"f haoro n hi<3 o/!HtV>SQ H Q f<*1 -
lows:
"Tills morning, children, I purpose to
offer you an epitome of the life of St.
Paul. It may be. perhaps, that there
are among you some too young to grasp
the meaning of the word 'epitome.'
'Epitome,' children, is, in its signification.
synonymous with synopsis."?
Philadelphia Ledger.
i'.' The total value of the stone product
of the country in 1906 was $66,378,794.
an increase of $2,570,046 over that
of 1905.
VOTE F OK UNITED
How the Various Candid
Prin
Evans J<
Grace
Abbeville 402 2
Aiken 1583 37
Anderson . . 304 8
Bamberg 135 5
Barnwell 557 10
Beaufort 176 7
Berkeley 100 1
Calhoun 180 6
Charleston 358 1048
Cherokee 525 8
Chester 470 2
unesierneia * i t a
Clarendon 651 2
Colleton 540 9
Darlington 644 24
Dorchester 279 6
Edgefield 526 3
Fairfield 386 10
Florence 260 6
Georgetown 55 8
Greenville 1125 39
Greenwood 587 8
Hampton Ill 3
Horry 072 13
Kershaw 316 11
Lancaster 262 1
Laurens S28 5
Lee 289 0
Lexington 878 <
Marion 537 4
Marlboro 310 6
Newberry 552 4 1
Oconee "26 27
Orangeburg 1137 10
Pickens 598 9
Richland 856 72
^aluda 4 30 16
Spartanburg 3516 12
rumter 422 14
Union 1105 8
Williamsburg . . . . 353 4
York 1196 10
Total votes 25723 1494
Grand total reported
THE VOTE FOR GOVERNOR. I
Ansel Defeats Blease by Majority of
19,407.
Following is the official vote for governor
as tabulated by the state executive
committee with a few scattering
precincts missing.
County. Ansel. Blease.
Abbeville 1010 505
Aiken 1148 20421
Anderson 2425 1388
A 1 (\ I
Bamberg ns
Barnwell 1173 1017
Beaufort 668 145
Berkeley 640 564
Calhoun 493 304
Charleston 2105 3043
Cherokee 1132 530
Chester 1208 628
Chesterfield 1277 779
Clarendon 940 802
Colleton 1828 939
Darlington 1634 886
Dorchester 825 578
Edgefield 1026 710
Fairfield 794 509
Florence 1834 617
Georgetown 950 517
Greenville 2817 1609
Gheenwood 1607 898
Hampton 419 155
Horry 2710 1177
Kershaw 771 634
Lancaster 1784 583
Laurens 1132 1382
Lee 905 651
Lexington 2063 1698
" ------ oecc 8Q1
Marion w
Marlboro 1139 739
Newberry 1268 1385
Oconee 1704 1032
Orangeburg 2164 1258
Pickens 1121 1198
Richland 2331 1935
Saluda 726 1363
Spartanburg 3449 2180
Sumter 1437 543
Union 1236 1284
Williamsburg 1614 584
York 2158 1081
Total 60.492 41,085
Grand total vote reported, 101,576.
OLD SCHOOL BOOKS.
The Bizarre Problems In Old Arithmetic
Books.
To the grammar school pupil of today
It would seem Impossible that there
could be any Interest In studying the
rrYya.
wording or arunmeuu pruuicuu. mc
solution of a problem generally presents
quite enough difficulty in and of
itself without worrying as to the nature
of the language in which the figires
are put. Even if they felt so inclined,
they could find little of Interest
in such questions as. "Bought 12.000
l^ng tons of coal at $4 and sold the
whole at the same price per short ton.
What did I gain?" Or. "What number
-I'btrncted from 80,005, 88 times will
leave 18 as a remainder?" (From an
arithmetic now in use in Chicago
schools.)
If we go back to an arithmetic published
in our own country in 1788, however,
we find problems that, whether or
not they Interested the pupils at that
time, certainly are amusing now, says
the Chicago News.
In an arithmetic written by Nicholas
Pike in the year mentioned, problems
-ueh as this appear: "An ignorant fop,
wanting to purchase an elegant house,
s v.* 1 J
a facetious gentleman toiu mm ue nou
me he would sell him on moderate
terms, viz., that he should give him a'
>enny for the first door, twopence forj
'he second, fourpence for the third, and
so on double at every door, which were
thirty-six in all. It is a bargain.' cried
the simpleton, 'and here Is a guinea to
bind it.' Pray, what would the house
have cost him?"
From books in use in 1790 are taken
-ome even more remarkable examples:
"A man overtaking a maid driving a
lock of geese said to her: 'How do you
do. sweetheart? Where are you going
with these 100 geese?' 'No, sir,' said
she, 'I have not 100, but if I had as
many, half as many and seven geese
and a half, I should have 100.' How
many had she"/"
"A person was 17 years of age 29
vears since, and suppose he will be
drowned 23 years hence; pray, in what
year of his age will this happen?"
Should these questions be put to the
present generation, probably there
would be more giggles than answers.
rr?i r, nOeHnn "Whv {<2
1 lie pupuiiu Ijuviiiiuii, .. -.J .w ?
mouse when It spins?" Is scarcely more
Impossible than one in "The Scholar's,
Arithmetic" of 1817: 'When hens are
9 shillings a dozen, what will be the
price of six dozen eggs at 2 cents for
three eggs?,l/^No doubt, many curly
pates have been given cause to wonder
"why Is the hen?" Trick problems like
the above were quite the rage. Another
curiously worded question is: "At
Surat is a hospital for sick animals,
in which there is a tortoise that has
been there seventy-five years. What is
three-eighths of that number?"
The fondness for ghastliness in the
problems makes us wonder as to the
value of such training for childish
minds. "In 1831," says one problem,
"119 persons died of drunkenness in
New York and 137 In Philadelphia.
How many in both?"
Again: "A man had seven children.
Two of them were killed bv the fall of
a tree. How many had he left?"
"Judas, one of the twelve apostles,
. STATUS SUINAJLUK.
iates Stood in the Recent
lary.
^hnstone Martin Smith
Lumpkin Rhett
374 15 28 312 373
394 245 183 775 548
jn i it Ota iuoo jvo
81 34 38 196 709
269 90 86 387 757
137 45 42 368 66
5 20 45 561 481
89 10 13 102 396
78 25 15 3549 180
40 23 111 293 672
474 68 62 335 485
31 72 231 239 254
55 104 16 203 738
185 21 171 161 1308
91 ' 59 65 536 1106
29 20 24 591 497
539 61 121 262 242
109 130 44 363 350
50 38 53 385- . 1685
31 26 30 360 911
974 123 520 767 871
874 89 59 306 633
79 10 56 201 204
240 44 462 547 1037
218 174 47 207 217
148 42 177 396 1332
316 202 331 867 484
260 13 37 132 829
a r i* oa/? t t* r A'71 r Q C
JOO OUO IDi) tlx IOU
227 53 128 683 1812
154 38 49 453 819
391 58 62 140 457
600 72 283 433 516
145 161 93 724 1170
283 66 366. 374 498
665 560 399 1049 686
61? 49 209 106 702
321 62 281 993 643
363 41 26 607 632
305 42 46 524 578
29 14 50 458 1291
282 97 125 867 648
465 3459 6274 22348 28846
101,609
hanged himself. How many were there
left?"
"Adonibezek said: 'Threescore and
ten kings, having their thumbs and
their great toes cut off, gather their
meat under by table.' How many
thumbs and toes did Adonibezek cut
off?"
"A human body, if baked until all
the moisture is evaporated, is reduced
in weight as 1 to 10. A body that
weighs 100 pounds when living weighs
how much when baked?"
To a child of 8 or 10, with a particle
of imagination, it must have been
pleasant figuring out the weight of
baked bodies.
NEW COTTON PEST.
Disease Spreads Rapidly, Causing the
Leaves to Fall.
For the past four or five weeks reports
have been coming Into the state
department of entomology with reference
to the ravages of a new cotton
disease caused by a minute Insect
known as the red spider. These reports
have come mainly from the sections
of the state south of Atlanta.
According to State Entomologist
Worsham, the red spider Is a small Insect
not visible clearly to the naked
eye, but easily seen by means of a good
hand lens. It has a characteristically
red or reddish color, fastens itself to
tne unaer siae 01 ine conon ieai, auu
multiplies very rapidly, the leaves of
the infected stalk dropping off on account
of the ravages of the insects.
While the color of the leaves on the
under side is a distinctly reddish hue,
the color on top is not so marked, having
a dull brown or black tinge. The
disease begins on a few stalks, but in
an incredibly short time may spread
over an entire field. As soon as the
leaves drop from the stalks, It becomes
necessary for the plant to develop new
leaves, which greatly, decreases its vitality
and causes a corresponding
shortage in the yield.
Dry weather is favorable to the development
of these Insects and seems
to a great extent to be responsible for
the prevalence of the disease In many
sections of the state. It is a natural
inference that water should be a preventive,
if not a remedy, for the trouble,
which is true, but it is not a suffciently
effective remedy.
A mixture of equal parts of sulphur
and slacked lime is suggested by the
department of entomology as the best
moans of disposing of these insects.
The mixture is to be thoroughly powdered
and dusted carefully upon the
under part of the leaves affected. If
this is done as soon as the presence of
the insects is noticed, it will effectively
prevent their spreading over any
larger area and render the disease easily
controlled.
The insects of themselves are power'ess
to spread over a field, but may
be easily scattered by plowing, unless
precaution of destroying them first Is
taken. They are also scattered by
moans of other larger insects in wnose
feet they may become fastened.
It Is the opinion of the state entomologist
that this disease may be
entirely checked and destroyed, if the
'roper methods are used.?Atlanta
T'.urnal.
THE HUMAN ENGINE.
To Operate This Masterpiece Air Is the
First Necessity.
Of all the engines cunningly devised
by man not one can equal that masterpiece
of construction, the engine of the
' * ? ~ rn ~ anorino air
numan mime. ?-.i i uu mat ?iBu.v ?...
is the first necessity. Construct it how
you w!" the greater part of the energy
which . e?'s a power plant Is lost before
it read he applying1 machine.
Tht body only has the power of using
oner,,* really economically and efficiently.
Its food Is Its fuel. To be
available all the constituents of that
food must be burned, producing heat
and power. For that burning the oxygen
of the air is essential. Equally
true is it that nitrogen must be present
to prevent the rapid combustion which
would take place in oxygen alone. But,
whether the combustion be fast or
slow, the action is the same. The
body burns the carbon and hydrogen
" " " ' ?5 5 ati* avMao a f
Or US IOCXJ aim givca uui mc v?
these substances, carbon dioxide (carbon
acid gas) and hydrogen oxide (water).
The water that is formed within .
the body by the burning of hydrogen
Is of comparatively slight importance in
a consideration of the vital questions of
the effect of city air upon the individual.
but the other factor, the carbon
dioxide formed in the body, Is of direct
importance.?Hollis Godfrey in Atlantic.
I7? Living expenses in New York have
been increased by 11 per cent in one
vear.
There are 262.000 Sunday schools
in the world, with something like 26,000,000
pupils.