Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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/ C lKVILLE ENQUIRER. ' ISSUED SEMI-WEEELT. l. h.qrist'ssous, PubU.h?n.} % dfamits gemsjapei;: ^or thijpromotion of th<^olitiqat,?oi;tat, ^rieultttr.al and Commercial Interests of thijJmj4. { ESTABLISHED 188fi YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, JANUARY 21, 1913. IsTO. 6. * * * - - - I _ i 5 THE AMERICA k i 'i | By ETTA ? ? ? I | CHPTER XIII. "k More of Bee's Dikry. - What a lofty, high-toned, elegant place is this Newport! Though I am but a spectator of its splendors, I ad- j mire it immensely?yea, even its haughty, reserved ways and its fre- j quent, abundant fogs have become dear 1 to my heart. Of course, I cannot go ) with Miss Vann to the elegant dinner parties and the recherche entertain- < ments at the cottages of her friends; ] but still I nave pleasures 01 my own? ( the beach, the cliffs, the sea, plenty of books and music, daily drives in a costly landau, or a lovely willow phaeton, with three darling ponies abreast, and ?many other delightful things. The days go by very fast?dear, blessed days. I wish I could hold and keep them?they are too bright to lose so quickly. I went again with Miss Van to Eric Saxe's studio; I sat again at the Jewess's window, and heard the bees in the trumpet liowers, and looked at the picture of the ruined plantation on h that desolate and forsaken southern " creek. I think the sweet ghost of the Jewess still haunts the place?I fancied I could hear those dead sighs of wnich Eric Saxe spoke on my first visit, fanning all around me through the vines. Miss Vann's lineaments grow upon the canvas, and the witchery of that old room upon my heart Much to my delight, I have not seen Baron Strozzi for several days. He has vanished from Newport?gone, perhaps, on another diplomatic mission. Miss Vann thinks his absence very mysterious, and says it must be some extraordinary attraction which draws him from Newport at this time. I am glad. I hope he will remain away the rest of the Reason. He is certainly the most disagreeable person I ever saw in my life. . August 25th.?Went shopping and ? driving with Miss Vann. A flying visit from guardy. He wishes, I suppose, to assure himself that all.is going well with me. How jaded and unhappy he looks! I hope he is not ill. Guardy holds the next place to Ethel in my affections. He took me in his arms and Kissea me iu nu eauu, )>icvin?^. "How do you find yourself?" he said. "Why, you are as radiant as a rose, 1 Bee! It Is plain that Newport air < agrees with you." 1 ia "Oh, yes!" I answered, "it does, indeed; I am very happy here." ' Eric Saxe dined with us. I fancied < that guardy watched him very closely, and not altogether with approval. Miss ? L Vann had told him of my narrow es- 1 ' cape from drowning?an Incident < which did not seem to please him i * much. < "Don't be too grateful to the man " J he said to me, irritably. "Don't fancy 1 that he is a hero of romance because I he chanced at a critical moment to i pull you out of the surf. Betwixt your- < self and such as he there's a great l gulf fixed, my dear?remember it." Went riding on the Bath road with i guardy. He questioned me closely about my daily life at the villa. I > "I like Miss Vann very much," I i ^ said, "but madame?madame is very ! * peculiar, is she not? Once or twice per i week she makes it a point to give 1 away her Jewels and dresses to the servants?It is after she has been < drinking too much wine?and they come and bring the thmings to Miss i ^ Vann with the gravest faces in the i world. It is really very funny. I have discovered that madame lies in bed a i great deal, save when the fit seizes her to powder and dress and assume the hilarious ways or youtn.' "You are too observing, Bee,"' answered guardy, severely. "Many things are overlooked in a person of Madame Vann's importance?overlooked and never mentioned. Follow the example of her daughter, and pay as little heed to her as possible. By the by, Charlotte Vann tells me that her friend, the baron?how is that, my dear ?has fallen in love with my seventeen-yearold schcol-girl!" "I should hope not!" said I, coloring angrily, "for I detest him, guardy!" * "Pooh!" he answered, in a teasing > tone; "Ethel and your aunt would be delighted with the thought. Indeed, it does seem something of a compliment for the lion of the season to notice you among all the style and beauty assembled at Newport." ^ "I do not feel in the least flattered," I replied, shortly, "and I do not want his admiration. Aunt Amelia shall make no matches for me, guardy! Let her be content with marrying Ethel to that German count. Had my cousin been left to herself, I am sure she would never have accepted him?never! She would have chosen Lawrence Harding." "You are very ignorant, and very self-willed. Bee," said my guardian, in a displeased voice; "it is plain your % Aunt Amelia has no enviable task before her." And with that he whipped up our horses and we dashed silently home ward. Guardy will return to New York in -v the morning:. I am not sorry?he seems to be watching me. August 31st?More sittings at Mr. Saxe's, more rides upon the avenues, more walks along the cliffs and the smooth, shining beach. Eric Saxe is at the villa a great deal. Last night Miss Vann had a tableaux for her own amusement and that of a few Intimate friends. He was Leicester, and I Amy Robsart. How superb the man looked in hose and doublet! I am sure the real Leicester was never half so handsome, even when he vanquished Queen Bess's great, brave heart. I am very happy, and the world is ve-y, very beautiful. A light that never was on land or sea seems to have fallen on this delightful Newport. I never saw the sky so blue as it is here?I jfS never beheld such sunshine, such turf, V such flowers! W September 7th.?Improved the shlning hour of morning in Miss Vann's studio, watching her throw the violet reds and purples and yellows upon the marriage of "Hector and Andromache," and listening to her talk of Ruben's flesh-tints and Eric Saxe. As I entered the drawing-room, just before lunch, lo! out from the embra sure of a window, aariea tsaron oiruszi, and seized my hand with an ec*"1 static cry. "Ah adorable Mees Beatrix! It is an eternity since I saw you last!" "And what have you been doing with yourself all this time?" said I. maliciously. "You must like Boston very much to visit it so often at this * season of the year." Of course I did not know where he had been, and cared less; but I remembered what Eric Saxe had said about somebody meeting him at the Hub. and I spoke before I thought. The noble baron gave a start, and his scarred, brown countenance changed. "Who told you I had been in Boston?" he demanded, in a tone quite at variance with his usual oily accents. " 'Full many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant,' " I quoted for answer. He gave me a piercing glance. "You mistake, Mees; I haf no ac* quaintance in Boston?I never go there. I haf been to Long Branch to visit friends from my own Italy." o [N COUNTESS |i ^ a '. PIERCE. I 1 % ' I am sure he lied, though he need 0 not have taken the trouble, for what ? do I care??what is It to me where he goes? The entrance of Miss Vann relieved ? me from further conversation. The J baron remained to lunch, ogled me offensively, and scattered his compli- ?, ments right and left, as is his custom; ? but I was thinking of other things. I ? scarcely heard him and certainly gave " him no heed. * Miss Vann and mudame dined out. ? Oh, for the day when I, too, shall jr wear diamonds and Worth costumes! Like all the rest of my sex, I pine for the vanities of life. As darkness gathered, I curled my- " self up in an easy-chair in the bright- " ty lighted drawing-room and opened A the last new novel, with which I meant v to beguile the time till Miss Vann's return. Bijou, the pug, leaped into my lap and nestled his turned-up nose ** Into the curve of my arm with the greatest assurance possible. He Is the PJ prince of ugly lap-dogs. His toes turn 5Ut, he squints, and his whole villian- ., )us little face is as black as a crow's . fin*. h Outside, a low, mysterious wind, like ' stealthy footsteps, moved through Miss Vann's splendid ground. Heavy " sdors of flowers and blossoming shrub- " jery floated into the room, and now u ind then a sheet of heat-ngntning lit , jp the lawn and the wide piazza, and nl then vanished, leaving the night dark ir than before. My novel proved to be dull and dry. :8 [ grew lonesome and, rising, went to 0 :he white keys of the piano, glimmerng from a corner oi the sumptuous, lilent room. I played over some of my ** 'avorite pieces?sweet sonatas, Qer- m nan waltzes; and while I was thus en- e< raged, the door opened, and somebody 81 sntered with the air of one familiar vith the place. u "I am glad?oh, very glad to see r rou!" I cried, frankly, "for Miss Vann ind her mother are dining out, and, ei ike Mrs. Gummidge, I feel 'lone and 01 orn.'" Bijou was the only living thing there l to play propriety for us, but I was too . stupid to think of that. I gave my ni land to Eric Saxe and he held it as if et le never meant to let It go. "I tried hard to pais the gate," he ra said under his breath, "but could not. 3f late 'a spirit in my feet' draws me ai through these hospitable doors, wheth?r I wish it or not." "And why should you not wish it?" gl [ asked, pulling Bijou's ears in some ?mbarrassment. "I thought you and cl Miss Vann were very good friends." a] "And so we are," he answered. "Why eshould I not wish It? Because I fore- 111 see that It is?perilous business." I did not try to understand him. He "1 stood in the light of the chandeliers, n< looking down at me with dark, lumln- c< jus eyes. Miss Vann's maid had arranged my blonde locks with great S: care, and my dress was of white, shining foulard with clusters of great, blue si irelvety pansies for ornaments. How "i grlad I was that I had taken pains with ei my toilet! Laughing a little, and coloring a good deal under his fixed c< ?aze, I said saucily: "Does your correct taste find any- y< thing amiss with me tonight?" "Quite the contrary?pardon my si rudeness. I was thinking how won- w derfully shining and unreal you look? a like a disembodied spirit, or, perhaps I might say. one of Miss Vann's day- rr lillies." ir After this speech the conversation ceased to be personal. We talked of a! Newport, of Miss Vann, of the sea, of everyming. iresenny ne aa*eu rue iu ej sing. Miss Ingelow's "Defton Wood" f< was lying on the piano. I seized upon tj that. I have a tolerable voice, and I si tried to do my best. Ah, the refrain of the song is buzzing through my head h still, like a great bee: ' t< "Oh, so many, many, many n Maidens waiting to be won! S Speed, ye wooers, speed with any? n Speed with all but?one!' I I left the piano and walked to the si nearest window. He followed. The night was dark and heavy with heat, a He had his hat in his hand, and seemed ready to go, yet in no particular v haste. t< "Smell Miss Vann's heliotropes!" s said I, leaning against the open win- G dow. "What overpowering odors! and n what a weird; uncanry night!" k In order to obey, h was obliged to c move a little nearer. The perfume of w the flowers floated in to us in great, n sensuous waves. A 1! ?ht breath of air s wafted my shining d ess against him v as he stood. Sjlence fell in the room, 1< thrilling, almost dreadful. In vain I I tried to think of some harmless re- h mark with which to break the spell. i.? My tongue seemed paralyzed. I could s not utter a sound. I could not stir from my place. It was very ridiculous, p and rather alarming. tl How long we stood there, like two e bewitched creatures, I know not; but u presently a sheet of heat-lightning b flashed across the plate glass of the p window?flashed full in my eyes, and filled the salon with a blue, infernal p glare. t uartea DacK, Diinaea ana > frightened and like a terrified child, e stretched out my hand to Eric Saxe. How it happened, I cannot tell, but the v next instant I was strained to his side his arm held me like a bar of iron, his 1; pale, quivering face stooped and touch- I ed my plaited hair. I seemed to hear h a voice, shaken with a great rush of b unwilling passion, call my name twice, p in a wild, desperate way: t; "Beatrix! Beatrix! My darling!" a And I? A flood-tide of happiness rushed over me like an electric shock? f overwhelmed me?turned me giddy and faint. The room, that pale, passionate S face, reeled before my eyes. For one ii moment I lay helpless upon the arm o that held me: and then?then, with p some sudden revulsion of feeling? merciful Heaven! what could it have v been ?he released me, he drew back, he put me away. He was as colorless c as ashes. s "I beg a thousand pardons!" he s stammered, in a hoarse, strange voice, t "let me close the window." Down went J the sash. He drew the elegant curtains h swiftly shutting out the blue glare, g "Good-night, Miss Sardis." \ The next instant he was gone out of t me room, out 01 tne nouse. i nea.ru r him cross the piazza with great strides t and after that?all was still. t When the Vanns returned, I was 1< still standing where he had left me, s dazed, shivering, miserable. t "What ails you, Beatrix?" cried Miss c Vann. "You look like a ghost." t "I have a headache," I answered, *] picking up my wits at last. "With your c permission I will retire," and so I t hurried off to tny own chamber. The night is very dark and still? 8 very dreary, too. What did he mean? t I cannot tell?I am weary with thinking of it. Why did he call me darling? s Does he ca? for me in the least? Surely not, o, he would not have left t me like that. Oh my head does ache 1 now in good earnest, and I cannot c write any more because of my foolish s tears. I wish he had let me drown that day at the bathing-place?I wish I was lying this very moment, deep s down in the sea at the base of the t cliffs. t Eric Saxe went home to his studio \ through the pitch-black, sultry night. 1 like a man in a dream, seeing before s him at every step a fair, girlish face, i with soft hair, curling low on the i smooth forehead, and big eyes up- t lifted to his own, hlue as fringed gen- < tians. The blood was coursing like j fire through his veins?that hot south- ? rn blood of his, stirred now by new firs nd strange forces. He entered the mei Id room, haunted by the memory of soc he Hebrew girl whose unhappy love nat ad been her destruction, locked the cha oor, and, with feverish haste, wrote mei hese lines to Cullen Sardis: in "I love your niece and ward with hor 11 my heart. Rest assured, however, sho hat I shall not approach her in the wa: haracter of a lover until I have ob- thii ained your consent to do so. May I ? equest you to appoint an interview at ess ny time and place which will best tw< u o?t Inp Ull JfUUI tUIIVClllCUUCi ? o That was all. No other course than pos his ever occurred to the chivalrous igh-hearted southerner. In the very vol est sense of the word he was a man B f honor, full, too, of the mighty pride f his peculiar race. To no unworthy mu r clandestine means would he stoop to i o win the pearl of price which he now ha* oveted above all the world?consider- in tlon for Miss Vann, whose guest Bee to I - as, would alone have restrained him of i rom that He knew that he would find Th< mall favor with Cullen Sardls, but fan tie thought gave him no partlcul&r you larm. He expected obstacles, and he A ad courage and resolution by which dar j overcome them. Unhappily, how- tow ver, he did not understand the charcter of the man with whom he had to "thi eal. Mis Eric Saxe did not go near Bellevue six venue on the morrow. Bee wrote in T er journal, "Rode with Miss Vann? eye loped?yawned?saw nothing of E. S. Per . dull, interminable day." tra: He worked, instead, upon Miss his ann's portrait, and dined at the ele- "1 ant villa of an artist friend, upon swe horn the gods had bestowed both "1 ealth and fame. At the richly apointed table he chanced to overhear a g lis scrap of conversation: my "Have you observed that petite Yoi londe In Charlotte Vann's carriage of app ite?" (this from a lady with acreped er? ead and a dazzling display of dia- tior londs.) "Rather pretty, is she not? eith lough sadly lacking in style. She at- incl acts considerable attention on the P rive." lion "Yes"?the second voice was feml- thei tne, also, and high-pitched?"it is a ard of Sardls, the famous banker. he is very young?Is not yet out. It "' said that Baron Strozzi has quite me st his heart to her." den "T- Jhntl IIIUCCU! "Wait till Mrs. Sardis returns from now urope?I dare say she will make a to 1 iatch between them. She has secur- yet 1 a count for her own daughter?be thlr ire she will do well for the niece." frle The second day came and passed, myi the morning of the third, Eric Saxc out jceived an answer to his letter. som A clang at the old-fashioned knock- wisi *, a step on the stair, his studio door Min pened, and Cullen Sardis himself, cau >ld, gray, aristocratic, stepped into the le room. Upc Saxe arose from his easel to meet evei 1m. An odd contrast they made to T ich other?these two men?the bank', hard, polished, middle-aged. ' and ctsi aster of the situation; the artist, ind< lung, fiery, handsome as Antinous, at ] fid losing color visibly, under the fixed to ize of his visitor. Mr. Sardis put seni )wn his hat and cane, drew off his live loves and said good-morning, in the E iost courteous manner possible. His he osely-shaven face, a little haggard, pro< id somewhat deeply-lined about the to 1 res was an impenetrable as a marble ban task. but "I thought it best," he began calmly, :o reply to your letter in person. I sc" sed not say that its contents took me P impletely by surprise." ed 1 The dark blood rose slowly to Eric and axe's temples. "I scarcely think it surprising that I ? iould love your ward," he answered. Pardon me, it would be a much Strang- ba" thing if I did not love her." The banker transfixed him with his UP? )ia gray eyes. "And may I ask if my ward loves I"U1 ou?" ban "I have never spoken to her on the arai jbject. In my letter I gave you my J ord that I would not approach her as "'J*1 lover till I had gained your consent." ? "But you have reasons to believe, ?W' lost likely, that you are not wholly 1 idifferent to her?" ?ax "Yes, I have reasons?I say it with &er II becoming reverence, God knows." can The banker moved uneasily in his taa hair. Verily, a handsome, high-toned ;llow like this was just the one to ike captive the fancy of a silly reP ihoolgirl. Pa?" "You are by profession a painter," 0 e went on. "We live in a very mat- f"?' ?r-of-fact world, Mr. Saxe. All ro- ?h? lance must have its practical side. Sa> ince I am to consider you a suitor for ?Pe ly ward's hand, you will excuse me if mlr ask what are your pecuniary re- 8t^,? ources?" Saxe had expected this. Erect, Droud t>ul s a prince, he made quiet answer. an "I am poor, for I have had my own ;ay to make, and many difficulties the o contend with. My possessions con- A ist entirely of a desolate plantation in twc leorgia, worth next to nothing, and pre ly talent. But I am not altogether un- wa| nown to tne worm, xne uour 01 sue- ?tless is open to me. I have but to *! fork with energy' and patience, and to ly future is assured. And you will ee that J can work. I love your ward e" ,-lth my whole heart and soul?I have ael' >ved uer ever since the morning: when ~-Vl held her half-drowned body to my fro1 eart out in the surf yonder. There as i nothing that I cannot do for her ake. Believe this, I beg you." The banker listened with courteous atience, his gray eyes fixed keenly on he passion-flushed face of the speak- 1 r. He was taking the mental meas- pro re of the man, and deciding upon the F est course to pursue in this very per- ed lexing matter. not "You acknowledge that you are Me oor," he said, with a faint smile; "do Val ou know that Miss Sardis is an heir- J ss. and a very wealthy one at that?" tha The lurking sarcasm in this query his i'as not lost upon Eric Saxe. ter "Yes, I know it," he answered, hot- ly y; "I wish to Heaven she was not. pre wish she was as poor as I am, for " ler wealth is the one great barrier ne\ ietween us?the very thing which sic ilaces me at an enormous disadvan- 1*11 age as I stand here talking with you fro t this moment." yoi Mr. Sardis brushed a grain of dust put rom his sleeve. tell "I wish to be frank with you, Mr. A iaxe. Generally speaking, when a man bot n your circumstances seeks the hand of f a girl like my ward, society at once ed ironounces him a fortune-hunter." Eric Saxe's face grew pale with ag? irrath or chagrin, or perhaps both. ver "I should have been ignorant, indeed, the if the world, if I had not prepared my- livl f"' cnmothlntr llkf this" hp an- tin wered bitterly. "I suppose it would >e useless for me to swear that It is gir diss Sardis herself that I want, not nat ler fortune?that I would be only too un< dad, only too thankful to take her bee vithout a penny. I am not a fortune- are lunter. I come of a race that always ma leld Its honor as Its best possession? 1 hat never stooped?root or branch? ruf o a disgraceful action of any name or am cind. I trust that I have inherited, in thr lome measure, the characteristics of dye he old stock?that I am, at least, inapable of making any mlsrepresenta- yoi Ion of my motives in this matter, fro rhink a moment. Had I wished to se- the :ure Miss Sardis' fortune, is it likely ras hat I should have acted as I have done Bel ?acquainted you with my intentions are it the very outset?you, of all men in nee he world?" tha Mr. Sardis smiled again in his cool, to tuperior way. 1 "My dear sir, how impetuous you litt ire! I did not call you a fortuneaimnlv mpntinnerl thnt?sn- nf tety would inevitably regard you as ing luch. Do you know my ward's age?" agi "I know that she is very young." his "Seventeen; a mere child. You first all, taw her about five weeks ago. Now, I cri; im not only Miss Sardis' legal guardi- mu in, but her uncle, also, and I have her aft velfare very near my heart. She a 1 cnows nothing of the world?what can yoi the know at seventeen??and she has wh 10 male acquaintances whatever. I " im not the cruel guardian that ro- tur nance writers delight in. Bee is wel- wa :ome to choose her own husband, but. be jardon me, not six weeks after her " .'mancipation from school?not the ter t young, good-looking man she ets?not before her entrance into iety, where all her feelings, all her ure, must undergo a decided inge?not before she has some Judgnt and some experience to guide her her choice. Tou are a person of lor and sense. I ask you, frankly, iuld I be acting Justly toward my rd if I answered you otherwise than ??" Jric Saxe walked away to the Jew's window, stood there a moment or ), looked blankly out into the morn; and then returned to his former iltion. No." he answered, in a low, firm ce; "you are quite right." 4r. Sardis grew cheerful. Then, under these circumstances, I st ask you to refrain from speaking my ward upon this subject until she i been?well, let me say, six months society. You owe this much, both her and to myself. If your love is the right sort it will stand the test, e same may be said of any girlish cy which she may entertain toward i." l great light flashed into Eric Saxe'g k face. Involuntarily he took a step rard his visitor. Am I to understand," he cried, at I have your consent to address is Sardis as a lover at the end of months?" he banker carefully averted his 8 from this eager, impetuous lover, haps he was afraid they might bef the falsehood and treachery of heart Upon certain conditions," he an:red. Name them!" Fou shall pledge me your word as entleman not to speak of love to ward till the half year be gone, i shall promise that you will not roach her In the character of a lov-that you will hold no communicai with her at any time, nor seek ler to see her or to bias her free inations." or a moment there was rank rebelin Eric Saxe's passionate face; i he drew a deep, long breath. I our lerma are naru. They are the best I can make." rhen I must accept them?you leave no choice. One right, however, I land." The dark blood mounted ly to his temples. '1 told you Just r that I had never spoken of love diss Sardis. This is quite true, and I have given her good cause to ik of me as something more than a nd. I cannot, in honor, commit lelf to the course you have marked for me without first giving her le explanation of what would othere seem most extraordinary conduct, id, I will not attempt to plead my se in the least; I will simply state facts as they are, and?leave her. >n this point I will take no denial n from you." he banker shrugged his shoulders. Very well. But it is scarcely nesary that you should see my n J ceased I must object to an interview present Sit down here and write her, not as pasion, but as good se, dictates, and I myself will der your letter." ric Saxe looked disappointed, but walked straight to a table, and, ducing proper materials, sat down lis task. His back was toward the ker; the latter could see nothing a pair of handsome shoulders, but KotanoH offontlvftlv trv tha ranld itching of the pen over the paper, resently Saxe arose and approaches visitor with a pale, pained face, an outstretched hand holding the isage for Bee. Do you wish to read it?" Not for the world." answered the ker. "I trust you implicitly." axe pressed the seal down hard n his letter. Now she will understand me." he rmured, more to himself than to th? ker. Cool and satisfied, the latter se to go. [ shall rely upon you," he said, slgcantly. he two looked straight into each er's faces. [ pledge you my word," said Eric :e, coldly, "that I will be as a stranto your ward for six months to le; but after that, mind you?after t, I shall do my utmost, my very lost, to win her for myself!" Very well. Adieu for the present," lied Cullen Sardis. And so he de ted rrom tne oia nouse. ince outside its gate, he walked ftly away to the Newport Cliffs. ;re, in a solitary spot, he drew Eric :e's letter from his pocket, tore it n, read it through, stripped it into lute fragments and tossed it light down into the sea. Presumptuous young beggar! he is te rabid!" he said to himself, with unpleasant smile. "I would be glad take him by the throat and choke impudence out of him!" .fter this he made haste to perform > imperative duties which were ssing hard upon his mind. The first 3 to dispatch the following message Mrs. Sardis in Paris: Come home immediately and attend Bee. You are needed." 'he next was to gather his astonishward and all her belongings to himand, shaking the dust of Bellevue enue from his feet, fly with her m Newport and Miss Vann as fast steam could bear him. CHAPTER XIV. An Impending Marriage. 'he idyl of Seedy Court was apachlng a conclusion. 'or several days after his Interrupt love-making, signor Discorao a?a return to his lodgings to annoy rcy and excite the jealous wrath of I Black. liss Affry had already discovered .t the signor was very uncertain in movements, and so gave the matlittle thought; Mercy was infiniterelieved, and as for Val. he exssed his opinion in this wise: I hope to Heaven the fellow will 'er show his face here again. Muteacher! He's nothing of the sort, wager he doesn't know one note m another. But he's a scoundrel? t may be sure of that. When he ;s in his appearance, Aunt Affry, him to vacate." L fierce, raging jealousy was at the torn of Val's mistrust. The thought Discordo's passion for Mercy ranklmost unpleasantly in his mind. No man shall make love to her lin," he inwardly vowed, and that y night he waylaid his betrothed on stair and drew her into the shabby ng room where Miss Affry sat knit g in the gloaming. It's tempting Providence to have a 1 like you any longer without a ;ural guardian," he began, with an jasy smile. "Aunt Affry and I have n talking the matter over, and we i both satisfied that you ought to rry me at once." .'he slow, easy-going fellow looked fled and determined. He tore up i down the room, with his hands ust into his pockets and his face :d an unbecoming red. God knows I've not much to offer l, Mercy, but at least I can save you m wearing your live out longer at needle and from the insults of such V* I ?v? ecti? tia oignur x^io\joiciv??iicxue uuu. tweon my salary and the lodgers we s sure to have enough for our actual >ds and we can both be content with it, can we not? for we are both used poverty." Then Miss Affry took Mercy's tired le hands in her own and said: You have grown very pale and thin late, my dear?you are really klll: yourself as fast as you can. I quite ee with Val; the sooner you become wife the better for all of us?I say for I need you sadly, I am quite ppled with rheumatics, and I really ist have somebody to help me look er the rooms and Val's dinners and lundred things about the house. So 1 see I'm not altogether unselfish in jhing the lad to marry." What do you say?" coaxed Val, ning Mercy's flower-like face tord the light. "Shall this day' week our wedding-day?" This day week?so soon?" she faled. "Why not? We have no friends to consult, no preparations to make, since neither of us can afford any. Bid farewell to the Aid Society tomorrow, and tell them to engage another seamstress ?you are done with the needle. If there is any reason why you should look so sad at the prospect, darling, name It." Her Hp trembled as she glanced from Val to Aunt Affry. "My mother?you have both forgotten her," she said. "Not at all," answered Val, firmly; "we have thought of her and talked of her. Tou shall do with your mother as you like Mercy, only she must not torment you in the future as she has done In the past?I'll not consent to that, but I swear to provide for her always. Will not this satisfy you?" "Tou are too kind?too srood." mur mured Mercy, "but I will not burden you with my mother; it is too much. Say no more." But V&l had a good deal more to ay, and the matter could end only In one way. With a sigh of resignation the girl slipped her hand, at last, into her lover's. "I will do as you wish," she said; "but If you ever regret your choice, Val, I shall die." "Small fear of that!" cried Val, his rugged, common-place face glowing with a great fervor. "I will keep you tenderly?I will love you always?so help me God! One week from this night, then, you will be my wife?" "Yes," answered Mercy Dill. There in that twilight room the three sat for a long time and talked of the future and laid their humble plans, and Miss Affry was the only one of the trio who, in so doing, remembered the old proverb, "Man proposes, but God disposes." In all that she said there was a secret reservation?one thought persistently thrust itself before all her schemes for the future?"Something may happen to Val and I?something Is likely to happen at any hour." L. she spoke not a word of this to either of her companions. And so the evening passed. "I am the happiest fellow In the wide world," murmured Val, as he took leave of Mercy at the foot of the dirty stair. "And you are sure you will never repent?" she said, with a sad smile. "More than sure." "How strange that any one should think for me. plan for me, care for me! It is almost too good to be true." "Is It?" cried Val, becoming very lemonstrative. "Precious darling!" ? She broke from him, blushing like a rose, and fled up to her own little chamber. i In a week Bhe would be Val's wife. The words went singing through her brain as she lighted her oil lamp and folded up the last of her sewing. Was the cruel drudgery of her life Indeed over? Was there nothing before her now but peace and happiness with Val and Miss Affry? Stop! she had forgotten her mother?what was to be done with her? Val had left this question with his betrothed to decide, and a very knotty and perplexing one it was likely to be. Ten o'clock struck. Tormented with many thoughts, shivering with Impatience, Mercy waited for Moll Dill's step on the stair. It did not come. She heard Miss Affry and her nephew go away to bed; then she went to her closet and took down an old waterproof cloak, a hood belonging to Moll Dill, and a thick veil. Muffled in these, with all her riotous, golden hair tucked away under the hood, and the veil tied closely over her fkce, Mercy descended to the hall of No. 10, noiselessly opened the door fljgnd sprang out, like a spirit, into the hot,' dark night. She knew Moll Dill's haunts. Shrinking from her duty, yet determined to do it, she scurried away from Seedy Court in search of her miserable mother. The gaslights winked in the sultry darkness. Overhead the ever-watchful stars looked silently down on the hushed city. Now and then the bteps of a policeman rang along the pavement, or the rumbling of a distant carria * broke the silence; but that was all. Crossing streets, gliding round corners, so swiftly that her muffled shape was gone before any fellow-pedestrian could turn to look after it, Mercy approached a wretched drinking place in a dirty, ill-lighted alley. Some men were Just coming out of its door, sailors, rough-voiced, uncertain of gait. Mercy flattened her lithe body close to the wall as they passed?her thick breath almost choking her, fear and shame tugging wildly at her heart. Happily, they did not give her so much as a look, but reeled on and vanished at the first corner, Mercy gathered herself up, flung back the dram-shop door and entered. Two persons occupied the place, both women. One, a haggish, tousled object, was rinsing tumblers behind the bar, with ragged sleeves stripped up to her red elbows, and untidy hair loose about her eyes. The other stood at the pine counter, in the very act of raiBine a elasa of liauor to her Darch ed Hps?a mournful wreck of woman hood, dark, wicked, incorrigible?Moll Dill. Strange that Mercy should have been struck at that moment, as never before, by the superior air which this creature preserved amid all her sin and misery?by the traces of past beauty on her haggard, clear-cut face, as the kerosene lamps of the bar flashed full upon it. That look, that air, Moll would take with her to her grave. She was like some potter's vessel which, though degraded to foul uses, still retained something of its rare, original workmanship. At the opening of the door both women turned, and the bartender, who was talking shrilly to her customer, grew suddenly dumb. Mercy burst upon the two like an apparition. She was as pale as death. The veil had fallen from her face, the hood from her goiaen nair. wer great eyes nasnea unspeakable indignation and anathema upon the place. She swept straight up to Moll Dill and dashed the glass of liquor from her hand. "Come,home!" she cried, sternly and peremptorily. Moll stared as if petrified. It was the first time, her child had ever assumed this mien toward her, and its effect was wonderful. Without a word or sound, she turned from the bar, from the gaping woman behind it, and with a cowed and guilty air, followed Mercy out of the place. "Come home!" said the latter for the second time. "Lead the way," said Moll, sullenly. Unmolested, unobserved, the pair flitted back to Seedy Court. Mercy fitted a key in the door of No. 10 and crept silently up the stair, followed by her docile and quite as noiseless companion. How angry Val would be if he knew what she had done! Fortunately, he was fast asleep. Having safely reached the back i chamber, the girl threw off hood and water-proof and confronted her motner. "What Is to become of you?" she demanded. "What is to become of me? for It Is plain that I can have no peace while you go on like this. Oh. shame! It would be better for us both if we i were dead!" Moll cast down her sullen, black eyes. "Maybe," she answered, briefly. "Look me in the face and tell me truly?are you my mother?" Moll gave a sudden start. A wicked gleam shot into her eyes, then died out quickly. "That's a queer question," she answered, plucking uneasily at the torn fringe of her shawl, i "No, it is not. Other people have asked it often?why should not I? ; Have I not good reason?" "No doubt," replied Moll; "but all i the same I am your mother, and you are my child?bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. Don't get the notion Into your head that you belong to any one else, for it isn't so. There's a wide difference betwixt us, I'll own, but that don't alter the case any, nor meddling tongues don't alter it?you are mine!" Some faint hope which had stirred in the girl's heart for an Instant now met a swift and permanent death. She felt w< that Moll spoke truly?that In spite of Fi the doubts which had often arisen In ot her own mind, she was this creature's ca daughter. 8T There was silence for a space, then wl Mercy made the following announce- Hi ment: W "I am going to be married." Pl( Moll gave a jump. As might be supposed, the confidence betwixt the two was very limited?she knew nothing of Val Black's love for her child. "Married!" she gasped. "You?" "I. The man who has asked me to c< be his wife is Mr. Black, the nephew of my landlady below stairs." Moll's wicked lip curled. "That fellow! Who?what is he?" y? ne is a ciern in tne banking house. I y1 of Sardis & Co." answered Mercy,I'01 "and he loves me?In spite cf my pov- an erty and disgrace, he loves ne, and I t,c am going to be his wife. If Is strange 80 that any one. knowing who 1 am, should m< want to link his name with mine, Is It P? not? I can scarcely comprehend It my- teI self." Moll grasped the girl violently by the Cc arm. "He means to take you from me, does he??he means to part us for a" good?" she hissed. " asi "No, he means nothing of the kind." 8^ replied Mercy, sternly. "He Is good and generous?he Is willing to give j"* you a chance, and I?I will give you one, too; but It shall be the last I've 27 borne psitlently with you for years and t*3 years?I ve let you load me with shame and reproach and make my life amis ery; bul: now It will be different. I thi shall beur his name and not yours, and m( It will be his home and not this cham- an ber to which you must come. Heaven t,0 help us both! Either you shall quit po drink and lead a sober life henceforth, m( or I will never see your face again?I a(j will never again call you mother!" Moll Dill drew a deep breath. b0 "Do you mean i . she asked, with a 0f sidelong look at the girl's pale, set 0f face. thl "I do?I do!' Kg She stood as if in meditation, her 4^ black eyes cast down, her Interlaced m( hands working nervously together. "Well," she said at last, with a shrug, "you're right enough. It ain't in flesh tj,( nnri hlnnri tn boot* snnh fhlnnra 'asaua I'll think of what you've said?I'll make Bjr up my mind to something and that k0 [right soon." of She tossed off her old shawl and jgv | turned away from Mercy, but as quick- tjj ly turned back again, with a flash in her black eyes, with a low, contemptuous laugh on her lips. "Don't think that he is stooping? sis that man?to marry you. You're more sh than his equal, girl, in spite of your ell mother. It's not for him to feel asham- va ed of his choice. A clerk In the house ta: of Sardis & Co., eh??was that what be you said? Servant of the man who ln( rolls in riches while others starve?" tal She snatched up Mercy's old purse to from the work-table where it lay and eq opened it in the lamplight dp "Not a penny! We shall have poor of fare tomorrow. Well, we're used to it? se< that's a consolation. And Mr. Black is of Sardls's clerk? It's a good Jest! When th: are you going to marry him?" to "A week from this night" foi "So soon? I wish you Joy." thi Without stopping to remove her garments. Moll flun? herself dnwn on the broken sofa in the corner and closed . her wild, black eyes. There she lay till midnight, while Mercy slept and dreamed peacefully In the little bed behind the curtain. Then, unable to bear her torment longer, the woman arose, and, stealthy as a cat, began to pace the chamber back and forth, groaning in spirit, now throwing out her arms be fore her In a paroxysm of misery, now clinching l\er hands till the nails pierc- j*" ed the flesh. The old agony of remorse and regret was upon her again; but this night she did not flee to her j"?1 usual wicked mode of allaying it She simply endured till morning. Before Mercy awoke she put on -her c hood and shawl again and stole out Into the city streets. Surely some bet- ' ter spirit was working in the woman, coi for she turned her face resolutely from all her favorite haunts, and walked off sp< toward the business portion of the me- th< tropolis. asi The hour was too early for any stir th< In the great hive, so Moll turned aside as and seated herself to wait on a bench fi( of the green, cool Common. Ml Through her brain two conflicting ut voices rang. One said: "A decent fellow, and he will be kind pe to her, most likely?kinder than any sti one else has ever been. He will clothe an and feed her, and that's all Moll Dill's of daughter can expect In life." thi The other pricked her heart In this all wise: g& "But for me she might be dressed in an silks and jewels this day; she might er; have lovers from the highest and no- mt blest In the land. This bank clerk Is as poor as herself. What right has he to lift his eyes to her? Great God! There isn't a cent in her poor little thl purse today! How I have despoiled an her! how I have cheated and wronged her! If she knew all she would strike m1 me dead, perhaps, with the same air she wore last night when she dashed j8' the liquor out of my hand." She sat and thought the matter over, 8t? lashed plteously all the while by that 8cl Inward tormentor of hers which drink le* might stifle but could never kill. Pres- J ently she lifted her haggard, blood- 'U1 shotten eyes to the clock of Park street church, and saw that It was already klj past nine. She arose at once from her m' bench and walked swiftly away. vi< Down Trement street she went, be' through School, along Washington to br' State, never pausing until she reached m? the banking rooms of Sardis & Co. Here she looked around for a moment, thi then ascended the steps In her rags 8T' and tatters, and without the slightest *hl hesitation pushed back the heavy door *?J which bore the great banker's sign, and stepped into the elegant, marble- d* floored room beyond. 8tr Several persons were there at the desks at the counter. A half dozen thl ~ 0 n?nnA/1 klnnblw nf ?k/v In. 1 pill I a ui ejca auucu uiauni^ ai uic uitruding vagabond. Quite unabashed. wl however, she cast one lightning glance around the place, then walked straight ?n up to two men who stood at a little to distance from the entrance, one In the J?3 act of receiving some business instruc- Ph tlons from the other. cu: The first of the pair, stalwart, red- fui haired, unhandsome, was Val Black, iza The second, a small, wrinkled and ad wiry man, was Jacob Phillips, the con- m< fidentia! clerk of Cullen Sardis, and ed the manager of his Boston house. On ni< the arm of this latter person Moll Dill we laid a firm, determined grasp. me "Jacob Phillips!" wi He turned sharply and stared at the an apparition In the ragged shawl and tio hood, then recoiled a step. an "My God!" fell involuntarily from Jui his lips. fui "You know me, then?" said Moll Dill, foi watching his changing expression, his wf consternation, with a lurking-devil in no her stealthy, black eyes. ed Mr. Phillips seemed at a loss how to ly answer. The long-headed, reticent, frc undemonstrative man of business could di< scarcely find his voice. of "Yes, I know you," he stammered at th< last; "what do you want here?" She let her hand slip off his arm. to "Money!" she answered, laconically, or "Where's your master?" fu: "In New York?hush! Step Into a pe private room, for Heaven's sake?I'll an ^ 'At- A1 ~ ?l fVl; laiK wmi you mere. He turned quickly and motioned her ari to follow. The next moment a neigh- trt boring door had closed upon the two. cit and Val Black was left standing In the Tt floor alone. (a He could scarcely believe his own th< eyes and ears! Mercy's mother there stt ?an acquaintance of old Phillips's? m< asking him for money and obtaining a frt I Unn -Iwrr *aa In o \ra to rnnm I Who t nn ileal lllgi iwv, 111 ? |/>*tuvv i vx/kti rdid it mean? erl Moll Dill had not deigned a glance at of the younger clerk?had not even seen that It was her daughter's lover who pll stood listening in astonishment to her lin conversation with Phillips. "It's Incredible!" said Val to him- ta: self. "The old fellow was struck all In pe a heap at sight of her. By Jove! he knows her well?he does, indeed! sir Query: Will he give her money?" on He went to his desk, but be could not jrk?he was too mystified for that fteen minutes passed. Then the door the private room opened. The two me forth. In one hand Moll Dill asped a roll of crisp bank notes hlch she took no pains to conceal, er demand had not been in vain, i en! She passed swiftly out of the ace, and Val saw her no more. (To be continued.) WANT8 TAX COMMISSIONER imptroller General Makes Important Recommendations. That a tax commission or board sted with the power to supervise e work of assessment of property r purposes of taxation be created d that the state board of equallsain and the board of railroad assessrs be abolished, was the recomindatlon contained in the annual re ri aeni 10 uie general assemDiy yes- 1 rday by A. W. Jones, comptroller i neral of South Carolina, says the t ilumbla State of this morning. He i ggests that the single board contain i e members, two of whom would give : of their time in placing the proper 1 lessment on the property within the 1 ite. The comptroller general says that ch single boards have been entrust* with the supervision of taxation in states. He says that the number of i commissions is Increasing annually. Reform In Tax Laws. 'I renew my recommendation," says b comptroller general, "made tofor;r general assemblies that a single d a permanent tax commission or ard be created, and vested with the wer to supervise the work of assess>nt of property for purposes of taxlon. 'Two entirely Independent state ards are now charged with the duty assessing or equalizing valuations property for purposes of taxation in Is state. Each separate board Axes own standard of valuation, and Ters from the other, hence a com* >n standard necessary for equality taxation Is lacking. 'The assessment of all property In b state for the purpose of taxation ould Hte under the supervision of a igle board, and the present state ard of equalization, and state board railroad assessors should be a boiled, and other duties devolved upon is single board. Five Members. "The single board might well conit of five members, two of whom ould give their entire time to travng over the state, examining into lues in the different counties, and i districts, for equalization of values tween counties, which Is now lackj, would necessitate much work, and ice a great deal of time, leaving the local officers the power of ualizing the assessments between ln/lduals. The present state board equalization Is strongly tempted to cure the lowest possible assessment property in his own county, and is temptation renders it Impossible* secure anything like a fair and unirm assessment of property through e present state board of equalization. Work of Board. The members of the single state ard recommended should also call d attend meetings of taxpayers, and the local township, city and county ards of assessors and equalization, r the purpose of assessing and ualizing valuations of property, to e end that each dollar of property ly bear its just proportion of the rden of taxation. This board should IU Kduici iiiiui metLiUli Ijeeesstuy IU intelligent understanding and re- , ilon of the system of taxation, and ' port the same from time to time to ur honorable body, with any advice sy may think proper as to proposed anges In the tax laws. Kansas Report "It Is stated in the report of the tax mmlssion for Kgnsas, that: 'At the present time there are also ecial tax commissions investigating ? question of reformation in the sessment and taxation methods of air respective states In eleven states follows: Connecticut, Delaware, prlda, Iowa, Kentucky, Maryland, chlgan, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, ah and Virginia. "It will be seen that the number of rmanent tax commissions in the ites Is Increasing from year to year d that it has become a fixed feature the fiscal systems of a majority of e states, and it is probable that In states the utility of this central ornlzatlon will be recognized shortly, d in a comparatively brief time evf state in the Union will have a perinent commission. From Tsxas. "It is well stated in the report of rv #/v?. 1? KU C lOA'l?UU1111100iUIlCl 1U1 A CAOO. ill UIB nual report for 1912: 'Present day civilization demands ich more of the government than ts formerly required. It is not satled with legislatures to make the vs and courts to enforce them. The ite must furnish free common tiools for the boys and girls and colres and universities for the young ?n and women of the land. It must i rnlsh asylums for the blind, the deaf d dumb, and for the defectives of all ids. Institutions for the feeblended and the insane must be proled and maintained. The public alth must be safeguarded. The laweakers, while confined, must be hu- s inely treated. The state must pro- e le officers to supervise and manage ] g numerous public institutions and { ounds, buildings and equipment for t em. and a ereat bodv of men to care : and manage them. 'Of the municipal government, toy's civilization demands good eets, sewers, waterworks, lighting jilities and a thousand and one Ings not formerly required. 'These are some of the things ilch the people of civilized committee can have and enjoy. Having ce had them, they are not willing relinquish them. Their use and enAment adds to the comfort and hapless of life. Their possession is sered by the expenditure of public rids and 'marks the progress of civilition to a higher level,' and as people vance In civilization more and more >ney is required to bear the increascost of the ever-increasing governmtal agencies to promote the public dfare. Increased public benefits ;ans an increase of expenditures, th a consequent increase of the lount that must be raised by taxan. These facts are so well known A It ia on oronnrollu a nnontoH that 'ft ilclous expenditure of the public nds means simply a larger purchase r the good of all of those benefits ilch could be secured for society in < other way,' that when an enlightenpeople believe that taxes are equalassessed and that the funds derived >m taxation are being wisely and Juliously expended, the great majority them willingly and cheerfully pay sir taxes. 'The people of Texas have no cause complain of the purposes for which, of the manner in which, the state nds have been and are being exnded. There Is, however, a feeling d belief, more or less general, that e present laws relating to taxation e defective and that In the admlnisition of the law the rights of the lzens are being Injured and violated, le main causes for such belief are ) the lack of uniformity as between e counties of the assessment for ite taxation; (b) the escape of >ney and credits, stocks and bonds >m assessment, thereby causing real operty and tangible personal propty to bear more than Its Just share the burdens of government* "What Is there said as to Texas, apes with equal force to South Caroa. "The question of assessment and cation is of vital Importance to the ople of the state. 'In addition to the creation of this igle state board of assessors, I rec- ' lmend that provision be made for i the publication of the names of taxpayers, with pieces or articles and valuation of property assessed to them. Very few people go to the auditor's office to examine the tax returns of others and few, except corporations, even know what their own property Is assessed for until they go to pay their taxes. If they had printed copies- to examine at their leisure they would undoubtedly And property of others which had been overlooked, and if property were grossly undervalued, neighbors or others would note it, and cause' a correction in next year's assessment and fairer assessments for taxation would result, as taxpayers are brought Into a closer knowledge of tax matters. The people are entitled to this information. The constitutional restriction on the exercise of the taxing power by the legislature should be removed and the legislature left free to idopt such laws as may from time to lime seem best When these changes ire made In the constitution, the way nrlll be open for the making of fixed ipproprlatlons by the legislature and the application of a levy necessary to raise the amount of the appropriations md no more. Unless this is done at four present session, the matter must !>e deferred for four years at least before the changes can become effective." ALMOST ANYWHERE BY RAIL Odd Namss Found on the 8vhsduls Cards of Many Linos. When one considers the many thoulands of cities, towns and villages In he United States, the wonder is not hat so many of them bear similar lames, but that such a wide and lnteristlng variety of names exist, says the Ftallroad Man's Magaslne. Journey hrough the list and many and diverse will be the experiences that await you. "Tell It not In Oath; publish it not n the streets of Askelon," is written n the Old Testament, but the gossips >f four Oaths disobey, though they ?ui gather at but one Brick Store to shatter. One can travel from Dan to r? u.v- J pAtrAH. 3UtrZlllVUttt ttuu UIWVU ultUUfu vvtvury. Three Hospitals offer healing to the lick, and should they die, their bodies nay be placed upon a Bier. Nine Graves are open, or they may be >urled In a Tomb. Gravestone or Tombstone awaits them. He who seeks may find balm In thlreen Gileads, and a Panacea for all lis. For three Adams there are provided .'our Eves and 3$ Edens. He who wishes to tempt Tate will lnd two in his journey. Those of donee tic proclivities may toll In two Kitchens, or pass ?he time at the Grill, gridiron, Bake Oven or Johnny-Cake Siding. The blacksmith can find employment in three Foundries, and 11s:en to the ring of five Anvils. Those fond of signs will find a Zonae. Seekers of warm regions may to to the Equator. The recluse may lequester himself In a Turret. But let he sluggard beware of Get-Up. Though the days of the whipping post are gone, there are three Pounds, md a Prison Siding or Prison Track lor wrong-doera For the fugitive herd is a Refuge. For two Forlorn Hopes there Is but one Regret The plodder may put his nose to .'our Grindstones. Those who like ;ondlments have Pepper, Mustard, or ?love at Ginger Hill If the floods deicend, live Arks await you to take you ;o four Ararats, with eight Olive Sisnches for the dove to bring back. Four Loves exist for the lovelorn, !0 Friendships for the less ardent There Is one Rapture and 17 Blisses Lt Hunkl Dorl. The heathen have two Idols, the nun ier Convent and the Monk his Monustery. The religious may make a pilgrimage to Sabbath Day Lake, Sab>ath Day Point enjoy Sabbath Rest, >r And spiritual uplift at Bible Grove >n Bible Hill, while gaxlng toward Beulahland. Proceeding along one Byway to four iivhwivi hAwilderment will be :aused by 11 Cross Roads. No soluion of the high cost of living Is offerid, for New Jersey offers the lone Barralntown. Who shall say that Du Maurier Is orgotten when eight Trilbys keep his nemory green? Then, too, come Boniparte, Caesar, Brutus and Cato. Who should ever be sad when there s Music of the Harp or Violin. Relources are bountiful, and Joy, Pros)erlty and Tranquility prevail. There s good Luck, and all are Happy. In Ingel's Camp we may find Heartsease. Juliet has five Romeos, but Adonis s solitary and alone. For ten Danons there is one Pythias, and one Toan for nine Darbys, Little Alice of Vonderland trips lightly through two Liooklng-glasses. The wicked may turn Crook, go to Hogueville with a Pistol and shed 31ood. Then they may flee to Roblersroost or to the Drunkard, who has lis Brandy at Whisky Switch. They night prove an Alibi. The hermit is not forgotten, for Exle, Lonely, Lonesome, Lone Willow, lione Pine, Lone Oak, Lone Star and Jone Mountain all beckon to him. rhousands tread the road to 16 Danascuses. It Is not strange that so many of hose who emigrate to America remain lere, for there Is but one Doorway and >ne Exit. In the garden of our cities we find even Ceres, 16 Floras, Arbutus, Hon luckle, jasmine, nuuerny, Dee auu Beehive. The Woodbine twineth, sev>n Acorns grow to 16 Oaks, and In the ruck garden are two Tomatoes. The seeker of strange gods finds rlahomet and Buddha. There are two duds in which the children may make lies. The lawyer finds one Brief. We lave three Backbones, which may ac:ount for our national courage, and hree Halos. For the somnolent there ire two Bolsters and two Pillows. Of animals and-birds we find many fackdaws, Foxes, Antelope, Rats, Ravns. Quail, Crows, Raccoons, Rabbits, 'anthers, Peacocks and one Stork. In letters Bacon outstrips Shakesleare three to one. We have 11 Bonanzas and two Carlegies; two Cains and four Abels. The careless may find their Bohenia. There is but one Bog into which o drift. For all of us we have nine Sweet lomes, but only lone Fireside. One ? Jaint we find among us, and all the there from St Agatha to St. Xavlar. And when we have proceeded .thus ar we have traveled from 26 Alphas o 20 Omegas. EVOLUTION OF NEW WORDS. Strange Changes Mads In Meaning of Coined Syllables. Word building Is as much a piece >f carpentry as Is house building. Dnly It takes longer. Sometimes a lentury or more. And by that time the word's first meaning Is usually :hanged. " ? am urnrh fr\r r ur CAttllipiC, U1C viu "Vivi "neighbor" was "sib." One's good neighbor was known as one's "good lib." This became shortened to "godslb," and later to "gossip." Then the word's whole meaning changed and gossip no longer meant good neighbor, but applied to the sort of :alk exchanged between good neighbors. Take the word "farmer," too. The aid word for "farmer" was "boor." (And "boor" later was used for des:rlbing farmer-like or rough per10ns). The farmer living nearest to >ne was known as the "neighboor," ind this phase, in course of time, was wisted to "neighbor." "You've heard the proverb: "Little jitchers have big ears." Well, it loesn't refer to the utensil that nolds water or goes to the corner ?ide door. "Pitcher" was a slang :erm with some such meaning as our ivord "chap" or "fellow." Thus, 'Little fellows have big ears," is a nore sensible reading of the proverb.