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^ issued mn-wm.9 l.m. GRIST'S SOBS. Pubiuher.. [ $ #mils Uemspajeii: 4or ,ht promotion of fh< political,gonial, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of th< J)eopt<. ( "0J^W' Esl^BLisHEDY85a. - - yQRKVILLE. 8. C., TUESDAY, FEBBUARY 11, 1913. ~ NO. 127 1 * * * 1 J 4U ? ?.J _ ? ? *? ??l I IlAVAil U-J _.U.M it 1 V.n. T- \fAll4u I THE AMERIO r _ ! By ETTA ? * ? ot<?ty|xx>?xjty?oiyr<* CHAPTER XXI. Ths Haunted House. It stood upon a lonely by-road in the j old town of Medford, Massachusetts?a , gaunt, black, ill-ahapen house, soaring | * * *- * In frAnt lo a neigni 01 uuw bwucd ?< >, but with a sloping roof that reduced its pretensions abruptly to one story in the rear. Many of the lower windows were boarded up. In the centre of the llchened roof arose one enormous chimney, from which no cheerful smoke ever curled upward to wintry or summer skies. Behind it arose a wooded hill; before it stretched a starved, neglected field, with tumbling stone walls, and clumps of unpruned orchard-trees, growing among the weeds and wild grass. No other human habitation was anywhere in sight. It was a house "under some prodigious ban of excommunication." situated in a lonely, unfrequented neighborhood, and given I over, by common consent, to utter desolation and decay. For twenty years no tenant had crossed its threshold; for twenty years the people round about had shunned it. and timid travelers quaked in body and spirit alike when forced to pass it, even at a distance; for twenty years the black shadow of Murder had hung upon it?a shadow that would never be lifted. Abandoned, feared, rarely approached, even by the strong-nerved and curious the house under the lonesome, pine-covered hill, with its front to the dreary, weed grown field, was Known near ana mr as "a haunted house." On a certain night in the late summer, something happened at this place of dark repute?something which cannot be explained until the reader goes back with me to search for the little seamstress of Seedy Court?beautiful Mercy Dill. When Miss Affry left her lodginghouse to go to the office of the British consulate in answer to Peter Finch's advertisement, Mercy, overcome by a strange foreboding of evil, an unaccountable sadness that seemed to deepen and strengthen as the hour for her marriage drew near took up her work and descended to Miss Affry's domain to find solace and companionship with her kind old friend. She reached the faihillar sitting-room only to find it disordered?a rare thing indeed?and empty. Glancing out of the window, she saw Miss Affry herself just rushing out of the court like one demented, her shawl awry, her bonnet askew, her rheumatic old legs stumping along the pavement with a speed that amazed Mercy. What had happened to the old woman? Whither was she going? She looked as if bound on an errand of life and death. Even as Mercy watched her she vanished around a corner. Small as this disappointment was, Mprov'i heart sank In an odd, miser able way. She turned from the wlndpw,. put the disordered room To rights, arranged Val's books again upon the shelf, folded up the paper which contained Mr. Finch's notice, all unconscious of the mischief it was to work in her life, and then ascended to her own chamber and sat down again to sew until Miss Alfry's return. Half an hour went by. Then the bell of No. 18 rank violently. Mercy knew that she was the only person left in the house, and she ran at once to answer. As she opened the door she saw that a close carriage was drawn up before it, and at the threshold stood a man?a stranger, with an alarmed and portent.ous air. "You are Mercy Dill?" he asked, in a tone as perturbed as his manner. "Yes, she answered, thrilling with quick apprehension. "Mr. Valentine Black sends me to fetch you to him. He has been taken with a fit at the banking-house of Sar <dis & Co. He cannot be moved?the doctor thinks he will not last an hour. For Cod's sake, Miss make haste and come at once!" Val sick?Val dying! With a stifled scream, Mercy staggered back. Taken completely by surprise, overwhelmed by an unspeakable anguish, it never occurred to the unfortunate girl that these dreadful tidings might be false. Wildly she flew for her outer garments, flung them on, and rushed from the house?the house that she was destined never more to enter. "You will be at the banking-rooms in ten minutes, Miss," said the man. He grasped her with one hand, and opener* the carriage door with the other. It was a close vehicle, as I have said, and curtains were securely drawn across its window. In one corner sat a dark, motionless object?a man, with a handkerchief clutched in his gloved fingers. Mercy did not see him till her foot wag on the step; then a thrill of sudden alarm and apprehension ran over her?her first suspicion of foul play. She would have recoiled, but swift as thought the driver pushed her straight Into the carriage, and as he did so, the man in the corner leaped up and seized her in a terrible grasp. She caught one glimpse of a swarthy, scarred face, full of wicked triumph and exultation; then, before she could utter word or sound, a handkerchief, saturated with some deadly, sickening odor was pressed down upon her mouth and nostrils. Mercy knew no more. The carriage turned from the door of No. 10, and rolled out of Seedy Court. It crossed Charlestown Bridge at a pace which, though lively, was not swift enough to attract attention, and through the squares and busy streets beyond, went on toward the open country. i\o souno came irum insiue 11. The driver, a stolid-faced man, sat on his box like an automaton. Not one person of the many who saw the carriage pass gave it any particular notice. It entered Somervllle, rumbled through the streets of that quiet town, :and approached Medford In the shad ows of the declining afternoon. The stolid driver knew his business, evidently, and needed no instructions. Turning from the populous quarter of this latter place, he urged his horses into a lonesome by-road, where few dwellings were to be seen, and these only at long intervals. The lowing of cows, the chirp of crickets under the stone walls, alone broke the almost mournful stillness of me railing onj. On he went, until a turn in the solitary way presently brought him in sight of a desolate, weed-grown field and a gloomy, pine-covered hill, under which stood an old, black house with the long western shadows creeping over Its one gigantic chimney, its dreary, boarded-up windows, and the rack and desolation of all its surroundings. It was the haunted house under the hill?the house upon which the curse of black murder rested and always would rest while a timber remained in its place. The carriage turned from the road Into a deep-rutted track which led across the field to the door of the abandoned dwelling. Strange to say, some signs of life were now visible about the place. Recent foot-prints could be traced in the wild grass that grew up to its very threshold. A faint, blue smoke ascended from the great chimney. At a window in the second story, a r?rxtx*>?xirx?<TK>#'Of>iO \N COUNTESS ? _ ! ? V. PIERCE. | woman's face appeared, stared out through the dirt and cobwebs for an instant, and then vanished. The driver stoDned at the door. sprang down from his box. and called: i "All right, sir!?this Is our house!" 5 Out from the carriage stepped Signor Discordo, holding In his arms the in- f animate figure of Mercy Dill. "Where Is zat female, Sally?!' he ? cried, kicking Impatiently at the grim old door. "Halloo there! Joseph, man of music, make haste, or sacre! It will be the worse for you." v The thud of a crutch was heard inside. A rusty bolt was drawn back, " and Joseph, the o gan-grinder, the wretch from whom D. ?cordo had bought his first knowledge of Mercy, appeared, . greasy, unkempt and leering, on the " threshold. "Ha! you've caught your bird, master!" said he, at the sight of the bur- t] den Discordo bore. t. "Hold your tongue, idiot!" replied Discordo, ungraciously. "Where's zat witch Sally, I say? Ze girl is dead d with ze chloroform, and I, pah! I am t half-smothered, too?ze cursed stuff! Bring me a glass of brandy. In great haste Joseph produced a , flask and a glass, and poured the desired stimulant for his employer. As * Discordo tossed off the liquid fire, a , woman's voice, somewhere from above the two, called shrilly: ^ "TKIb mow mooter thn PAnm ifl ready." With the senseless girl In his arms. Discordo mounted the stair. It was i; thick with dirt and mold, and rickety " with age. Strips of discolored paper hung: from the wall, and at its head * stood an old woman in a cotton grown much the worse for wear?an ill-favorcd hag, with stiff, bristling grray hair, a wizened, leatherly face and a long, h sharp nose that came down to meet a c< cruel, pointed chin?Joseph's wife, Sally. si Led by this creature, Discordo entered a square, dreary chamber, parti- ? ally supplied with old-fashioned wood- U en furniture. In one corner stood a ? huge, four-posted bed, upon which o Discordo laid the rigid figure of Mercy *"< Dill. At the sight of her the woman, ? Sally, started back in dismay. z< "Eh, what! You've killed her, mas- c< t< ? 4 f "Killed her!" cried Discordo; "Qod forbid! Pour some brandy down her throat, woman! Would I kill one E whom I adore? Peste! do at I bid you, and be lively." ? Sally set about restoring the unconscious girl. It was no easy matter. * Mercy came back to life as reluctant- " ly as If she knew the trouble which a awaited her?the frightful net in which " she was snared. Finally, however, a r thrill ran over her prostrate figure, the lids lifted from her violet eyes; she sprang up on the four-posted bed, and jj with a cry, looked around the unfamil- * iar room. Its two windows were draped In cob- rj webs, and darkened by a clump of ragged fir trees that grew close up to their y narrow frames. The floor was deep in w dust. 'X few old, rickety chairs and a chest of drawers leaned against the ~ moldy, discolored wall. A ragged patch- j* work counterpane covered the high bed, and there was a deep, cavernous a fire-place, In which stood a pair of 11 rusty andirons, upholding a half-con- P sumed back-log?relic of some fire n kindled there twenty years before. In wild bewilderment the girl grazed at all these things. What had happen- 11 ed to her? This was not her.lodging- a room at Seedy Court. And then her " eyes fell on old Sally, who stepped for- 11 ward from the foot of the four-poster, a nodding and grinning in a way that g was meant to be reassuring. a "How d'ye do, Mercy?" she said, y "You remember me, don't you? Sour n Qoi.iv ?nn nooS r?ol) me when vou " were a little brat. Many a good turn y I've done your mother, and many a * glass I've emptied with her In my day. " Come, ain't you glad to see an old " friend, my dear?" 11 Mercy stood in the center of the dusty y floor, and stared hard at the wo- * man. Yes, she remembered her only too t] well?a wicked hag, fierce of tongue, a hard of hand?Moll Dill's boon com- 2 panion and neighbor in the reeking 8 tenement house where the girl's unhappy childhood had been passed. "You are no friend of mine!" cried ? Mercy, wildly. "What place is this? J Where Is Val??Is he sick ?Is he dy- ri lng? as that man said. This is not the j! banking-house." ~ "Well, no, not exactly, my pretty," * answered Sally, with a hideous grin. 1 "Val is all right, I dare say, but you ~ won't see him tonight. You're in a nice, 11 quiet place, with old acquaintances. v Here's a gentleman that'll explain the J" whole matter better than I can, " dearie." Discordo advanced from a corner a where he had been hiding, and saluted her with a low bow. At a sign from him, Sally vanished from the room, " leaving the kidnapper alone with his r victim. a At Rts-ht of that swarthy, scarred P face, the truth burst like lightning- upon ? Mercy. She saw at once the trap Into ^ which she had fallen?comprehended z his cruel ruse which had placed her In the power of the man whom she feared 11 and hated above all mortal beings. a "My dear Mees Dill," began Dlscor- ? do, with scarcely so glib a tongue as usual, for something In the girl's ap- a pearance struck confusion to his very soul. I hope you are better. It deso- | lates me to use harsh measures with * one so dear, so lovely; but consider. You haf driven me to It yourself." c She stood like a statue, her great, dilating eyes fixed upon him In unquali- t fled horror. "Then it was a lie?the story which a you sent that man to tell me?" she said r slowly. "Alas, yes!" answered Discordo, light- 1 ly. "A necessity?an imperative lie, c my beautiful. I would it were not. I would zat Mr. Black were at death's * door this very minute; but dame! It is ? scarcely probable. I give you my word 1 zat, so far as I know, he is alive and well." 1 "What place Is this? Why have you brought me here?" derpanded Mercy t Dill. 1 Discordo rubbed his jeweled hands 1 softly. j "This place, my beautiful, is a retir- 1 ed villa zat I haf hired expressly to ? give you a taste of country life. Why f haf I brought you here? To save you 1 from a marriage zat is abhorrent to my i very soul. Sacre! For two whole days t haf I watched zat house In Seedy Court c to find you one minute alone. When I r saw ze old ghoul, Mees Affry, depart in haste this afternoon, I says to myself, t ze hour is come! And I call ze carriage t I haf kept at great expense in ze next t street, and, bravo! I bag my game with r not ze smallest trouble in the worid! Did you think I would leave you to ^ Black?zat clown, zat clod! Mon Dieu! i No. Such beauty as yours deserves a r better fate. You shall never marry the 1 banker's clerk?not this night, or any 2 other?I swear it!" A two edged sword seemed driving t through Mercy's heart. The hour for i her marriage with Val Black was close 1 at hand. What v.ould he say at her disappearance??how would he account t for it? She had left no word, no clue i behind her. The thought of her lover, t wild with anxiety, and. perhaps, doubt. 1 was too much for Mercy. She advanc- 1 ed toward the door like a little queen, j "And you think I will stay hero?" she j cried, wildly. "Not a minute! You think i you have brought me to some place 1 from which I cannot find my way back t , to my friends. You shall see." 1 Discordo stepped lightly before her. "Not so fast, my beautiful! You don inderstand. I shall half to speak plait ?r, I see. Not this day, nor for many lay to come, will you leave your prei snt retirement. Ze house is old, but ias strong locks and bars; and yoi ;wo old friends, Joseph, ze grinder < >rgan8, and his excellent wife, wl watch you like bulldogs, for I haf mac t their interest to do so, and they wt io anything for money. Now listen tad two good reasons for snatchir rou from Mr. Black. One was, to pre rent him from making you his wif ind ze other was to give you a chanc o reconsider ze answer you made ny suit when I asked you to love m Do you remember? You haf treated n >adly, my beautiful?you haf scornc ne without pity, and now I haf you i ny own hands, and, my faith! I sha lold you till you grow kind. In th dace you are cut off from ze worli Tere vou shall stav till vou haf take ?ack all your scornful words?till yo ove Discordo even as he loves you." Her eyes biased with righteous wratl Ihe confronted him with a face Uk shea, and her 411m hands clenched in oluntarily at her side. "How will you keep me?" "By force, my fair one, since it' ilain sat I can do it in no other way." "And do you think my friends wl ot miss me? Do you think they wi ot search for me? Do you think the rill leave me in your power?" Discordo, leaning back against th oor, elegant, unruffled, caressed hi raxed mustache with one carelea and. "Ah, petite how 'little you know o tie rules of strategy! I have left n races behind me tfcat can be followed r any person in Seedy Court saw yo nter my carriage, they will swear yo id it of your own will, which is quit rue. Zat will be so much evldenc gainst you, my own. Then, too, I hav plan by which I can soon check you Iyer's inquiries. He knows zat I ador ou, Mees AfFry knows it, for I told he rith these very lips. In due time Mon leur Black will receive a letter fror ou, dated at New York, in which yo rill Inform him zat you haf.fled wit le?zat you are my loving and helove rife; zat he need look for you no long r, as you are on the eve of sailing fo ly own Italy. This letter I have Jul ant to a trusty friend in New Yorl rith instructions for him to mail i gain to Mr. Black at Seedy Court. Tt i!" The white face of the girl kept it rave look. She was what Slgnor Dls ordo called game. "Val will never believe it!" she sale imply. "Will he not?" replied Discordo witl cruel leer. "Alas! mv innocent. link he will. He Is by nature as jeal us as a Turk. He will search the cit; ver for you, and find you not; he wll emember zat I loved you ardently, an at women are false and flckle. The: e old aunt, she will say, 'What bette auld you expect of Moll Dill's daugh sr?" Bah! Both will take my lette >r gospel truth. You will see." A great pang of fear and forebodini ricked through Mercy's sinking hear h, God! if it should be even as h lid! "You have kidnapped me!" she criet dth white lips; "you threaten to kee te here against my will. I am poo nd ignorant, but I know that sucl lings are crimes; there are laws 1 le land to protect the weak and friend ssa, as well as the rich and strong." "True?too true," answered Dlscordc lockingly; "but ze law will know n lore about you than will your lovei Ir. Black?I shall take good care o it It's an easy matter to keep you 1: le house for weeks and months an< ears, and no living being will be z lser." "Have we come so- far, than?" sal lercy. "It is not dark yet; we canno e many miles from Boston?surely no eyond the reach of human help. I hav voice and I will use it Men and wo ten are everywhere. Some one wi ass this way, hear me, and hasten t ly asslstarce." Dlscordo laughed. "No person ever willingly comes nea tils house, my beautiful! Twenty year go ze owner of It, an old farmer, wa lurdered In this room, on zat bed ther 1 ze corner, and his money carrier way by ze murderers, and now hi host comes back and haunts ze place nd none can live here, and every on links It accursed, and flees from it a om purgatory. So your chance o taking yourself heard is but small. 1 ou grow top noisy, Joseph and hi rife will gag ypu. Take my advice, an o nothing violent. It hat cost n? luch trouble and money to get yot lto my hands, and be sure I shall hoi ou fast. This chamber is your prlsor [ere you will haf plenty of time t tilnk upon your own hard-heartednesi nd by ze time three months are ovei at fine BDirlt of yours?zat high, brav plrit will be well tamed." His voice and look were full of dar nenace; but If he had expected tear r cries or supplications from his cap Ive, he was disappointed. Mercy con rented him with an almost superhu lan courage in her face, although s hat very moment she was thinking c ral Black returning to Seedy Coui hrough the twilight, to And her gon -gone on her marriage eve, and n Iving soul to tell him of the snare int rhich she had fallen?of the cruej fo rho was holding her from him at thl tour of hours. "You are not a man," she said; "bu . devil!" Discordo smiled. "True, petite; therefore be wise, an lo not provoke me. I once killed a wc nan, as young and almost as beautlfi s you?killed her with no more com junction than I would feel in crushin . little gnat, and she never did me an iarm, either. Now do you understan e man with whom you haf to deal?" lie aavancea luwara ner, one wave lim back with a gesture of unspeak ible aversion. "I understand you," said Mercy Dil I loathe and abhor you, but I am nc ifraid of you!" "You are not afraid of me who ca ;rlnd you to powder If he will?" hlsse Discordo. "God Is between us. He will take cai if me," replied Mercy. A wrathful gleam shot into the man ilack eyes. "Will God take care of you?" h icoffed. "Ah, my beautiful, zat re nalns to be seen." He seized her roughly In his arms. A ie did so a loud rap echoed on th loor of the chamber. "Master!" called the voice of Josepl 'the carriage is waiting, and the dri\ >r swearing fit to raise the roof. E lvely, or he'll make off and leave you Discordo started back, and release dercy. "I must go." he muttered, "I he )usiness In another quarter zat will n< et me stay. I haf secured you, m ily, but, alas! I cannot stop to wc 'ou now. Look out for my retun inwever at an earlv dav. Rest assui >d zat I will make my visits here 8 requent as possible. Let me kiss yot eetle hand. You will not? Unforti lately, I haf no time to urge ze mal er; but when I come again, take goo :are zat I find you In a more amiab! nood." With this he hurried out of the chan >er, and locked the door upon his prls >ner?hurried down the rickety stair I he impatient driver of the carriag nuttering as he went: "Sacre! It is difficult work, th vooing of two women at once, bol in willing, both unkind! It Is bad for nan's temper. Well, I haf bagged m leauty; now for ze blonde heiress wit :e million of wealth." He sprang into the waiting vehicl ind rolled swiftly away from the houf inder the? hill?from the victim of h awless strategy. And in the chamber of murder, whei he ragged fir trees rapped like ghost Ingers on the pane, Mercy Dill sa he darkness creeping through tl ilurred windows?felt the horrors < ler position closing upon her like ilghtmare; and, with a burst of pr< ihetic anguish, a sudden sense of beir itterly alone and forsaken, she fell c ler knees and stretched her arms ini he gathering gloom, crying aloud, wit jitter tears: "Oh, Val! oh, Val! I Bhall never, nevi*t er see your face again!" l- ?? a CHAPTER XXII. s- A Letter. Miss Vann visited Eric Saxe's studio 1T a few days after the Sardis ball, and P* Ethel went wijh her to see the picture of Elaine, "the lily maid of Astolat." Bee refused to go, and met all Miss llJ Vann's urging with determined ex1 cuses. Her head ached, she did not care for Mr. Saxe's pictures, nor for p- lovesick Elaines, on canvas or in the e> flesh. So the two rolled off in Miss 3e Vann's coupe, and an hour or two afto ter, Ethel returned in high feather ene thusiastlc over picture and artist alike. >? "Elaine is Just lovely!" she cried, sdj "'Where could be found face dain-| uerr " It is like you, Bee; or, perhaps, like ' what you might be, were you love-sick , for some obdurate Sir Lancelot And n the artist?how handsome he is! how. ti distingue! Charlotte Vann has been telling me his romantic history. Strange! ^ that you never once mentioned him la ? your letters, Bee." i- The color flashed into Bee's pretty face. "Did he tell you that I knew him?" I* she asked, brusquely. "No; but he looked, unutterable i " things while Miss Vann and I were trac- 1 11 ing your familiar lineaments in his i y picture. In the words of Mrs. Brown- 1 ing, he has eyes that take the breath. 1 e Tell me truly, was not Mr. Saxe your < 8 lover, or, at least your very warm ad- I 8 mirer at Newport last summer?" 1 "No " Bee answered, bitterly, "he did f '* not love me in the least, Ethel?he did 1 ? not admire me. Don't talk of him, f ' please?his name is an offense to my 1 u .ears." u Ethel stared, then smiled; then, be- 1 * ing a person of tact, gathered up her 1 6 rich train and left the room. < e Days and nights followed, crowded 1 r with ball, rout, opera, matinee, dinner c e parties, receptions and kettle-drums. r The season was in full blast. Mrs. Sar- I - dls lived only to sacrifice what health e n and strength she had to the severe ex- t 11 notions of socletv. As the chaperon of ! ^ Beatrix Sardls, and the mother of Count J d Stahl'a betrothed, this lady's hands r " were indeed, full. Two hundred morn- c r in& calls per week, with from three to a 1 11 half dozen engagements per night, and i r> a whole train of nervous diseases to c lt fight against, left her often in a pitiable 1 state when Flnette was called to ad- ? minister the sleeping drops, somewhere s in the wee small hours of the morning. ' i- As for Bee, she plunged with feverish l eagerness into the whirl of gayety. Bv- t 1, erywhere the persistent attentions of c that fascinating foreigner, Baron h Strozzi, made her conspicuous; but, in f I spite of Mrs. Sardls's open encourage- ( - ment, his suit did not prosper. A man i y of less perseverance might have retlr- j II ed disheartened from the field; but the 1 d baron was not easily discouraged. He n had no successful rival If Bee wasted i r no sweetness upon him, neither did she >1 - bestow any upon her other admirers. r AH were alike repulsed. Strozzi bellev- i ed that a fortune of a million was $ ? worth some patient waiting. Many j t things were in his favor. He held to his 1 e purpose like a bulldog, and bided his ) time. I I, Meanwhile, it was Count Stahl who | P supplied the baron with money?how I r unwillingly, none knew better than l h Strozzi himself?money borrowed from n the banker. The two noblemen met fre- 1 - quently under the Sardls roof they were lionized in the same circles, and ), everywhere they treated each other o with punctilious courtesy, but that was all. The tie of blue blood failed to draw 1 f them into any intercourse resembling I n friendship?in fact, they might be said I d to avoid each other when they could do < e so unobserved. Sometimes, as he i watched Strozzi, a look of unspeakable I d hate, mtngied wlUi aialmof equal fear 1 t would creep into the count's sleepy t eyes; but exposure for one meant ruin ( e for both; therefore each kept the secret < - - >-. J-t Ilk l.,,(AlakU 4 * wnicn lay Deiwixi meiu wuu m??uia?.c . '1 fidelity. i 0 One day Ethel Sardis went to call upon her old friend, Mrs. Jack Severne. She found the brunette bride sitting r in a gorgeous boudoir, with a blonde * Boston belle who had come to New 8 York to spend the winter?Alice Brad's ford. The three friends met after the ? fashion of their age and sex?with 8 kisses, incoherent questions and excla mations of delight. Then Ethel was e given a low fauteull before an open 8 fire, and conversation opened briskly. ' "How delightful to meet again on f home ground!" said Alice Bradford, 9 whose moonlight fingers were busy d wi?h some gay silk embroidery; "It e seepijT years ago since we parted at " Lu?ern?." d "Ages/' acquiesced Ethel. ' "Our party reached Paris, the day 0 after yours left it, and we sailed for home the following week. En passant i* are you not looking a little pale, Ethel, e and Just a little bored?" "I dare say," replied Ethel, serenek ly. "So many balls and receptions 8 and opera nights are trying. One be" gins at last to feel that it would be - nlanonnt Hnil SBlOkflOth Snd aStlCS, - like Helolse." I "Fortunately, your pallor Is always ] becoming:, Ethel," chirped Mrs. Sev- i 1 erne. "Now, when I lose color, I am ) ? a fright, and must either rush to the \ 0 rogue-pot or hide myself from the ] Q light of day." I 8 Miss Bradford carefully picked a s knot from her silk. i "And you are very, very happy, | it dearest EJthel?" she spurred. I "That goes without saying, does It < not?" replied EJthel, with a calm | d smile, 1 ' "Has your trousseau arrived? And ( " how many bridesmaids are you going " to have, dear? I suppose I may not 1 g ask a word about the bridal dress? ] >' Of course It Worth's latest miracle. I ] a hope the count will have no more < duels to flght. That affair at lucerne < d gave me a dreadful fright. And to < think, dearest, that men forget so ' soon! One day they are ready to i ' die for us, and the next, they have ceased to remember that we exist. Have you seen Lawrence Harding < " since your return from Europe?" I ? Ah! that was her meaning, was It? I Annna/1 has InnO'llM OVP9 ( upvwvu IIVI e "No." "You will find him greatly changed. 8 He Is not at all like the Larry we once knew." e "Indeed! You do not change. Alice, - dear?you keep your old attachments with great fidelity," smiled Ethel. s The shot told. Miss Lradford cole ored to the roots of her hair. The awkward pause was filled up by Mrs. l, Severene, who knew all about her - brother's love affairs, but preferred e on this occasion to give no exhibition " of that knowledge. d "Lawrence came home from Europe In a grand mood," she said, caref lessly. "He had arranged everything t in his own mind, poor dear. Mamma y and I were to take a cottage, and live o upon whatever wages he could earn, n, and bid defiance to misfortune, and - all that impossible sort of thing; but a my marriage put an end to his plans r ?very happily, too, I think," with a ' - demurs smile. ; A door behind Ethel's chair unclos- i d ed suddenly. Some one stepped Into le the room?a privileged visitdr, in a ' long, gray overcoat, with his fur cap < >- In his hand. i- "Talk of angels," murmured Alice | to Pranford, with a quick glance at i e, Ethel, "and you will hear their i wings." is Mrs. Severne made a little wry 1 th face. ( a "Wings! Never, by any stretch of 1 iy fancy, could one connect such things ;h with these big, earthly shoulders. I Larry, you need no introduction, I 1 ??. hope, to your old friend Ethel." 1 'e Ethel Sardis turned and found heris self face to face with Lawrence Hard- 1 ing?face to face, for the first time ] re since that parting In the Cathedral at ; !y Lucerne. There was a half moment i w of silence?time enough for well- i >e bred people to recover from any ordl- i Df nary shock of surprise; then Ethel i a held out an exquisitely gloved hand. 1 >- "This is an unexpected pleasure." i ig she said, sweetly. >n He held the patrician fingers an in- : to stant, then let them fall. :h How thin he had grown! How ] cold and stern his face looked! She saw, pernaps, as sne naa never aeei before, that It was a face of powe and strength and resolution. "Thank you," he gravely answered "I did not think to meet you here, had almost forgotten that you an< Evelyn were school friends." Not the slightest agitation In hli voice of manner. This encountei with the fair woman who had rejectee him for a title and a position seemet not to move him In the least. "Perhaps he has forgotten that was ever friends with any member o: the Harding family!" thought Ethel. They exchanged a few commonplac es, then said Mrs. Severne to hei brother: "You must stay and dine with us Lawrence. Your visits always take mj breath, they are so swift and short" "Stay!" murmured Alice Bradford T mKmaIt Vila KonHonmt OUUUA uw * ? *%???> ? brown head. "I have a business engagement ir another part of the city. Being ladles of leisure, you naturally forget that working people can spare but little time for the-pleasant things ol life." Mrs. Severne pouted. "Ethel, dear," she explained to her visitor, "mamma and Lawrence have i little martin-box of a house, where ;hey dwell together like amiable hermits. Mamma cannot be induced to fo into society again. So many of her Irlends deserted her at the time of >ur troubles that she has quite lost raith In human nature. She now >elieves in nothing but Lawrence. She has become a sort of female iMogenese; and the worst of it la she teems really to enjoy the life, and Lawrence also." At this moment, Mrs. Severne's apdog seised a mouthful of Alice 3radford's embroidery silks, and ran >ff to the far end of the room, where is took refuge under an antique :ablnet. T mirxanna want trt tVlO rOBPlIA and >rought back the spoil to Its owner, ind proceeded to help her disentangle he snarl which the' brute had made, lleanwhlle Ethel talked with Mrs. Severene, but her languid eyes saw nore than they appeared to see. Not >ne of the coquettish glances which Idles Bradford cast at her assistant, lot a flush nor a dimpling smile es:aped her. A thrill of inexplicable ndignatlon stirred the heart of Count Itahl's betrothed. "Disgusting!" she said to herself; 'how can Alice wear her heart on ler sleeve like this? Anybody with he least penetration can see that she idores him." And yet It was really none of Miss 3ardls's business. Why should she :are though a score of Boston blondes itood ready, figuratively speaking, to ling themselves at Lawrence Hardng'? head? Presently a clock on the mantle itruck the hour, and Ethel arose and nade her adieux. Lawrence escorted her down the italrs .to her waiting carriage. Half way in the descent her foot chanced to flip on the polished oak, and she would Have fallen had he not caught her promptly on his arm. For one Instant ler beautiful patrician body was pressed against his side, foe one initant his stern gray eyes Jooked itraight Into her own. "Tour ma mage Is close at hand I lear." he said, In a strange voice. "Yes," she answered. "I wish you Joy, Ethel." 'Thank you, Lawrence." That was all. . The next moment le had handed her Into her carriage. 3he rolled homeward among its cush una, sniveling unuer an uer wraps 3f fur and velvet; and with a alow itep and a very odd expression of !ace. Lawrence Harding returned to Severne's boudoir. A few hours later and Ethel saw her >ld lover. As she entered the Academy >f Music that night his face was the Irst upon which her eyes rested. He vas in the Severne box, leaning upon Uice Bradford's chair, and looking off oward the stage, absorbed evidently in he warbling of the prima donna. At the entrance of the Sardls party, le turned and looked at Ethel. What lid he think of her? Her dress of costy silk shimmered through folds of Brussels point. Diamonds blazed on ler marble arms and exquisite throat ind In the superb masses of her waved irnnjB hair Her far a was like an old jameo?as cold and as white, too?the treat, dark eyes alone held a slumber)us Are under the sweep of their long ashes. Mrs. Sardis, in velvet and bro:ade, with a priceless opera cloak up)n her thin shoulders. Bee in blue 'aille and pearls, very fair and girlish ind sweet Count Stahl, elegant and idorlng, "the observed of all observers;" and the banker, cold, gray and ixlstocratlc, made up the party. The great three-tier chandelier blazed overhead; the music poured out gloriously from the prima donna's silver throat! Jewel's blazed; lovely eyes listened; white arms pressed the velvet cushions like Pygmalion's marble; ind In the midst of the warmth and )rllllance, the perfume and melody. Ethel Sardis's eyes met those of Law ence Harding?met and spoke unutterable things for a moment; then he iirnod awnv and hpndlne over Miss Bradford, pointed out to her something n the libretto. And Alice was looking her best this light, In a Worth toilet, with a blue Feather and a diamond aigrette In her ;olden hair, and with what Ethel callid the "Boston expression" upon her Tace?that is, a certain lofty repose of Feature which gave her the appearance if a Minerva. "Ethel," whispered Mrs. SardiB to ler daughter, "observe, that pair? MIbs Bradford and Lawrence Harding, t understand that their engagement !a ixpected daily by their friends, and certainly. It does seem imminent. An ixcellent match It will be?for him. The Bradfords are rich and well connected. Ethel answered not a word. Ah, what an evening It was!?splenJld, interminable; full of feverish bitterness. The count hung over his betrothed and murmured tender nothings. Bounod's music was divine, but, ah, the perversity of the human heart! not ill the admiring eyes leveled at her from every part of the house, not the presence of her titled lover, elegant and ievoted; not the envy of observing Friends could compensate Ethel for the sight of Larry Harding leaning over Miss Bradford's chair and whispering In her Jeweled ear. as forgetful of the ' * - ? * J* J MAtrAM Kaan VaHIv Jia love as 11 ll iiau Iicvci i/ctu. ? ? tv blessings brighten as they take their flight! She was glad when It was over? svhen they all arose to go. In the lobby they encountered the Severnes. Harding passed Count Stahl without recognition, bowed quietly to Ethel, and disappeared In the crowd, with Alice Bradford hanging to his arm. The Sardis party went back to Fifth avenue. On the stair, Bee, half asleep, Jtopped to murmur: "What a delicious night, Ethel?what heavenly music! I think I never enloyed myself so much, the baron was not there!" "I am tired of operas," was Ethel's brief answer; and then she entered her iwn sumptuous chamber, and sat down before the mirror to av.alt the appearance of Finette, who was disrobing Mrs. Sardis, and measuring out the nightly dose of soothing drops. Scarcely had she done so, when her eyes fell upon a long, thin envelope, placed In a conspicuous position upon her toilet table, and addressed in an unfamllar ? i j "loo TT>?V>a1 Qq rA I a lernimne luiuu, iu iu 100 uvv >? .... She took it up, wondering1, broke the seal, drew out a sheet of paper and read these words: "For God's sake, do not marry Count Stahl! I know the man?know his past life; you do not. Be warned in time. If you will come alone to Central Park tomorrow at the hour of three p. m. I will miet you there, and give you information of great importance. You are rushing blindfold upon a terrible fate! Enter the park by the Seventy-second street gate, and be sure to come alone. Three o'clock sharp. I dare not affix my real name to these lines, I will not use a false one; therefore, I must simply sign myself your "Friend." [l one reuu uicbc wuiug auu r again?did Ethel Sardia. Suddenly the e door opened and Flnette, the French i , maid, entered. Ethel held out the an- f I onymoua sheet a 1 "Flnette," she said, in French, "who a put this letter upon my table?" v 9 Dark, stolid, with a face like brown v r stone, the maid advanced to her mis1 tress's side. a 1 "I did, mademoiselle," she answered, f "It was after you had started for the ? [ opera. The other servants were out. b f The bell rang. I went to answer, and. a behold a man stands at the door; he t! - has the letter In his hand; he asks me " r to give It to my young mistress?to her ti only. Then he Is gone before I can draw n , a breath. I bring his letter to your t r room?I place it there on your toilet table. I hope It contains no bad news tl . for mademoiselle." e 5 Ethel crushed the mysterious warn- p Inr in her Jeweled hand, flung it quick- d i ly into a drawer, and turned a key ; upon it. n "Loose my hair, Flnette," was all the $< : answer she made, "and be quick! My ai ! head aches; I am very tired." m "Tea, mademoiselle." FInette took the pins deftly from the a; > rich, perfumed tresses. Down they n rolled in a silky torrent all over her , brown hands. n She braided them for the night, put ^ Miss Sardis's Jewels Into their boxes, w folded up her laces and silks, and arrayed her for repose. Not another word tc did maid or mistress speak. Ethel sat staring straight into empty 0| space, like one who turns a terribly perplexing matter in one's mind, and s, knows not how to decide It: and, F1- w nette, flitting stealthily about the room, with an expressionless face and eyes ? that absorbed many secrets while be- ei traying none?FInette, I say, watched her. p, (To be Continued.) Y ^ftisffllanfous grading. ? 1 11? al DR. JOHNSON AND DR. MITCHELL * Row Between College Presidents Over M Distribution or rosbody Fund. Columbia State, Saturday. n, "I am charged with a certain impression made on the mind of the gov- th ernor by Dr. D. B. Johnson of Win- M throp college." declared ur. b. c. mhchell of the University of South Caro- ae ling speaking In his own behalf yes- a^ terday afternoon to Investigate the dls- th trlbution of the Peabody fund In South w Carolina, to whloh reference was made by the governor In his Inaugural address. P( Dr. WlckllfTe Rose, of Nashville, gen- g( eral agent for the Peabody educational fund, appeared before the committee and made an extended explanation of the policies the trustees of the fund au had followed in making endowments u and aiding educational movements. Re Ul stated that under the terms by which George Peabody had placed the fund D In trust, a portion of It must of necesslty be used for the education of ne- re groee, and that the communication to ae the board, signed by eight representa- at, tlves of southern universities, Dr. Mlt- w chell among them, referred to In the ^ Inaugural address of the governor, had as no bearing on the final distribution of th the fund as it affected either Winthrop ot college or the cause of negro education. co Dr. Mitchell spoke briefly, but, with feeling during the session of the committee. ao "What is the charge against me?" <n asked Dr. Mitchell, after he had read wj the extract from the Inaugural address w which caused the Investigations aad re in which the governor made the state- aa ment '1 have the word of Prof. D. B. r Johnson,, the able and distinguished u, president of WTnthrop that this Is tj, true." Dr. Mitchell declared that by his own wj admission Dr. Johnson had refuted the m assertion that he had kept Winthrop j0 from getting 190,000. tl, "Dr. Johnson went to the governor of this state and poured all this poison into his mind for what motives, I do i not know," said' Dr. Mitchell. "Dr. Johnson Invited me to come to this state, and I have always tried to co- G< operate with him in every way. But when he makes the assertion that 'there is no fight,' I cannot reconcile it with the governor's statement, *1 have to the Word of Prof. D. B. Johnson,' who fo must be hel'd responsible for these th charges, since he alone Is quoted by the j0, governor. ca In reply Dr. Johnson said that he nu had gone In to see the governor about _ signing an Invitation to the general w assembly to visit Winthrop, and that tl\e governor had referred to the letter f.? written by F. H. McMaster In 1911. Dr. "c Johnson said he had resented this let- J;?' ter because he considered that It had rjj taken him to task for something for which he was not responsible. He said 11 he had also resented the communlcatlon to the trustees of the Peabody "? fund sent to them In 1909, proposing 11 that when the fund was finally dlstrlb- Ie uted J100.000 should go to each of the ra' state universities In the ^outh and that . the rest be used for negro education. Ir< Dr. Mltcchell declared that the cornmunlcation to the board of trustees of a" the fund which he signed was written openly at an educational conference In 8p Atlanta In 1909, and that there was ?r nothing underhand about It. "Dr. Johnson revived this communis cation, went to the governor and whispered the negro clause in his ear," said co Dr. Mitchell. "That is not true " replied Dr, John- "J son. At this juncture Dr, Hose explained the presentation of the communication from the eight universities to ths trustees of the fund, He said that It was one of a large number of similar petl- ur tlons, and that he doubted whether dr jU not any member of the board had ever je< seen the original. Th? gist of it had pa been given them along with the context mi of numerous other communications. *r Dr. Johnson stated that the "insln- mi uanons o( ur, mnuucit uu(m iu uc w- so neath notice." The letter written to him by Mr. McMaster in 1911 had taken i him to task. He had resented the com- de municatlon emanating from the educa- iir tional conference in Atlanta in 1909, |ni but forbore from commenting on it, as th he had no wish to stir up trouble. gr Polioy of Trustees. ar Dr. Wickliffe Rose, the general agent th for the Peabody board, was the first as witness before the committee. He told at of the establishment of the Peabody as fund in 1867, how it had first co-oper- pjj ated with the authorities in establish- tic ing public schools in the south at cen- ati treB of population, later aiding in form- th Hg state systems of public schools. g]i About 1875 the board turned its atten- gii tion to normal schools to supply the de- w< mand for .teachers in the public schools. ra This policy was continued up until 1907 when reports began to come in that the states were able to support the normal ?g schools. Dr. Rose said that the policy of the board had been to bolster up the weak places in the educational system of the M south, dropping one line of endeavor, "I as soon as it found that it had gone far enough to flourish alone and unaided. In carrying out this policy the hoard had withdra wn aid from the state e* normal schools and begun to help ru- on ral schools. sti The principle from which the Pea- au body fund was obtained was first bro- qu ken, said Dr. Rose, by a gift of (1,000,- th 000 to establish the Peabody college for wl Teachers in Nashville. This action was wl the result of the decision of a special mi committee that the board must dissolve ur and distribute the principal {he thirty re years of Its stewardship having ^xplr- pa ed. ' ,v . ' " ' fir Give tq Universities. an There still remains after the gift to wl Peabody college about $1,300,000 in the hands of the board. As to the best trl method of distributing this amount. Dr. Rose made a report to the board rec- re ommendlnsr that $500,000 be given as de an additional endowment to Peabody da college, that 140,000 go fq eftpfo of the co state universities in the south and that w? *50.000 be placed in trust with the JameB fund for the negro rural schools st? of the south. of Dr. Rose said he was moved to make | this recommendation because he be- G< ic?cu uioi me iiiue utm tunic wueii uie riucatlonal department* of the state iniversltles must be aided in their efort to train men teachers for the ichoola. He made this report in 1906, md the University of South Carolina vas included among the institutions vhlch should receive $40,000. Winthrop college has asked for bout $200,000 when the fund should be Inally distributed. The college had always been held in the highest esteem >y the board of trustees, the lndlvidu1 workers of which had committed hemselves to remember Winthrop handsomely." He had not agreed with he board on this point because he beeved that Winthrop had reached maurlty and was in no need of aid. i But when the final distribution of i he fund was made. Winthron was glv- 11 n 150,000 originally Intended for the ? 'eabody college of Boston, and an ad* i itional 140,000. < The University of Booth Carolina had < ot been given $40,000, but was offered i 1,000 with which to establish a schol- i rshlp. The university had refused this i nd asked for a reconsideration. Both ( r'inthrop and the university had also j pplled for any funds that might re- i tain in the hands of the trustees. \ Mr. Ashley of the Investigating com- c ilttee wanted to know when Mr. Pea- c ady had said that part of the money \ as to go to negroes. 1 Dr. Rose read an extract from a let- t x written by Mr. Peabody saying that 1 te fund was for "the entire population t ' the southern states." c "The trustees must carry out the h >lrlt of the gift," said Dr. Rose. "I i as obliged to recommend that part of t is fund go to the education of ne- h *oes, and. although I am a southern- c ', I would not change this recommen- t itlon. We of the south must face the li -oblem of bl-naclal education." e "Are you aware," asked Senator ii oung, "of any Influence brought to n ?ar on you by Dr. Mitchell to deflect ly of the fund from Wlnthrop?" f "Dr. Mitchell I believe to be Incap- d )le of such an action," replied Dr. r ose. "I was certainly never aware of u ly Influence he used to hurt Win- n irop. In all my relations with Dr. t T M * _ Ilt'licil 1 nave 1UUIIU II1IU |Oi- y il and high minded, seeking only to v rve the University of South enroll- a L" Ji "Why was the $40,000 deflected from a >? University of South Carolina?" f iked Senator Young. f< "This is a matter that you should tl ttle within your own borders," an- e vered Dr. Rose. "I will state that In c Is matter the board deferred to the g Ishes of South Carolina as expressed u f its representative on the board," u Martin F. Ansel, former governor of V >uth Carolina, was the member from >uth Carolina on the Peabody board. U "Wlnthrop has received $90,000," said n r. Rose In reply to another Inquiry. > t was never a question whether this ti im should be given to Wlnthrop, the n diversity of South Carolina or to be h ted for educating negroes." p When Dr. Rose had concluded, Dr. o . B. Johnson said that after appearing v ifore the board in New York the rep- r sentatives of the university and him- t If had come to an amicable under- tl Binding. He said that Wlnthrop was a lUing then to stand aside and allow tl e university to receive $40,000, as was tl rreed in New f ork. Dr. Johnson said ti at he was not responsible for the use t] his name, but did not state in what v nnectlon. ; " At this point. Dr. Mitchell declared b at he waa willing to meet Dr. John- r n more than half war. He related an n ctdent occurring on the train on t! hlch they returned from New York, a hlch showed the friendly and cordial b latlona between himself and Dr. John- c in. He said tlmt former Governor An- v 1 had advised them to co-operate In a ie matter of the Peabody fund and * ey had agreed to do so. n It was then that .Dr. Mitchell asked I hat was the charge against him and ti ade his statements with regard to Dr. d ihnson's responsibility for the lnves- u ration. Which Dr. Johnson denied. I , m , c 'HE MILITIA AND THE PARADE g tl >v#rnor Blease Says South Carotins t( Troops Will Not Qo to Washington. j, Governor Blease on last Friday sent * the house and senate, copies of the b llowing message on the subject of e South Carolina troops being ?1Eved to go to Washington on the ocsion of the inaugural parade, the imber of the message being It: ntlemen of the General Assembly: p I have noticed in the journals of ti ur respective bodies that a resolu- e: in has been Introduced and passed . questing that I give my consent for e South Carolina mllltla to attend A e Inauguration of President Wilson, ft lis resolution has never been re- t) Ived by me from the clerk of either iuse, and I cannot, therefore, treat a officially. However, I desire to dl- d ct your attention to the following tl cts in regard to the matter: p a- * ?1 * VJH %7OUUtti X <|4| 14 am Brfv. Gen. A, U Mills, chief * arshgl, Second grand division, In- h gural parade, was sent to my office, t< th the following endorsement: "Re- g ectfuily referred to the command- g -In-chief of the troops of South y trollna, for Information. p (Signed "Wm. W. Moore." * In reply, I addressed the following e< mmunlcatlon to Brig. Gen. Mills: si "Columbia, January 31, 1913 ? Ion, A. L. Mills, h "Brig. Gen.. General Staff. U. S. A., ?< Chief Marshal. Second Grand Dl- 0 vision, Inaugural Parade, * "Washington, D. C. 4 "Sir: Communication from you, ider date of January 28. to the ad- b tant general of South Carolina, sub- ? it, 'participation In the Inaugural rade,' has this day been referred to u b with the following endorsement: 01 espectfully referred to the com- " ander-ln-chlef of the troops of J* uth Carolina, for Information.' L "In reply to your communication, would ask you please to give me in tall what position the South Caro- tl la troops will be assigned In your augural parade, and whether or not u ey will have to march behind ne- p o regulars or volunteers. If they ai e 10 i>e assigned iu ?uuu jivomvii, ^ ey will not attend; if they are not i signed to such position, they will rj tend. If you cannot give me an ei surance that they will not be so tl aced, you need make no prepara- b in for the South Carolina troops to b tend, as they will not attend unless r, ey do so individually. If you will gj ire us such assurance, we will be 8i id to take part, and do anything 0, i can to assist In making the lnaugu- a 1 ceremonies a grand success. 1< "Very, respectfully. n (Signed) "cole, U Btease. f lovernor and Oommagder*ln-Chlef." tl "Copy- to the adjutant general.'' tl I have received from Brig. Qen. Ills the following reply: |j Ion. Cole. L. Bleaae. a, "Governor of South Carolina, rj "Columbia, South Carolina. B] "Sir: In acknowledgement of your a cellency'8 letter of the 3 let ultimo, C1 i the subject pf the participation of 8( ite troops in the approaching in- w igural parade, and in which you retest to be informed in detail as to ^ e position the South Carolina troops _ II be given In the parade, and ? aether or not they will have to g( afch behind negro regulars or vol iteers, i pave the honor to ?'M? in ply that the state troop* partlci,tlpg tn the B%r*da wilt form the n9,\ section ?v* the Second division, 0 id the erder of march In the column tl 11 be as follow*: b "First?National guard of the 1Mb- w let of Columbia militia. S "Second, The National guard rep- J senting the several states In the or- rt T of precedence determined by the R .te the respective states ratified the a nstltutlon of the United States, or R ;re admitted to the Union. T ''To the present time, the following E ites have signified their intention S participating In the parade: "Delaware, District of Columbia, H iorgia, Massachusetts, Minnesota, B iHOiuc, iicn uciocjr, iiui ill V-Ui uiuia, and Pennsylvania. "I am unable to give you assurance as to the troops to be selected In each state as Its representation, that being a matter entirely within the control of the state authorities, but in a report from the adjutant general. District of Columbia militia, dated February 1, 1018, It is stated that the first separate battalion (colored)?226/ will participate. "Very respectfully, (Signed) "A. L. Mills, "Brig. Gen., General Staff, U. S. A.. Marsha*. Second Division, Inaugural Parade. From this letter of Brig. Gen. Mills, It will be seen that negro troops will not only take part In the inaugural parade, but that they will be given .he position of houor, at the head of tho column. Tou will note the words >f the letter: "First?National Suard of the District of Columbia nilitia," in connection with the last wntence of the letter, "In a report rom the adjutant general, District of Columbia militia, dated February 1, L913, It Is stated that the 'First separate Battalion (colored)?226', vlil participate." It will, therefore, ileariy be seen that If the South Carolina troops should participate they vould not only be given a position be* ilnd negro troops, but behind negro roops holding the position of honor n the parade. I have been Informed hat Brig. Gen. Wille Jones has reel ved Information that Maryland also iss negro troops, and It will be noted hat Maryland has signified an in tenIon of participating In the parade and tas a position near the head of the olumn. It Is, therefore, an Inevitable conclusion that the South Caroina troops would be treated just as I x pec ted they would be, to wit: placed a a position in the parade behind egro troops, I desire to communicate this In* ormation to you, gentlemen, In orer that, If your resolution should each me. my reply thereto will be nderstood, and In order that you nay know why I do not consent for he South Carolina troops to parti elate In the Inaugural parade. IndiIdually, as I stated In my Inaugural ddress, I felt that I would receive list such treatment In case I should ttend, but I do not expect to attend, or the reason which I have heretoore stated. And I dc not believe hat the South Carolina militia? Ither the officers or the privates? ompoeed entirely of white men and eouvmen, win ueaire iu ituruuiNue, nder the circumstances. Z know that, nder these circumstances, Brig. Qen. Wllle Jones will not participate. I notice the following large headnee in a Columbia newspaper this lornlng: "Won't Draw the line on regro Militiamen. Inaugural commitee declines to give assurance of this ature to Gov. Blease." Under the eadllnes there is a Washington dlsatch in which it is stated: 'It is unfflcially stated that no negro troops rill march in the Wilson lnaugual parade, but the inaugural commitee authorities do not intend to take tie responsibility of authorizing such statement" It will be noted from tie conclusion I have quoted above hat it is officially stated that negro m roops will participate and will lead he parade. The last sentence in this Washington dispatch is as follows; Whether or not South Carolina will e represented in the inaugural pa> ade is a question still up to Goveror Blease." In answer to this queslon, "Governor Blease" emphatically ays "no." It may be, or it may not e, that some of those whose politlai and personal animosity to me is rell known, and who will have part in rranging the ceremonies connected -M, rlth the inauguration, may be instru- sental, in view of the position which have taken, in eliminating negro roope from the line of march, in orer to make it appear that I have been nduly exercised over the matter. But am standing upon the official reords in my hands from the authorlA. (M A# 4k(. MA .A/?A mklAk cp in umoi |c ui iui* ^ai auct vtiiiwu ive the situation, or purport to give tie situation, officially, as It stands Ida?. I have thus placed you gentlemen 1 possession of the entire facts upon hlch my position In the matter Is aaed. Very respectfully. Cole. L. Blease. Governor, President Finley of the Southern.? resident Finley is something more isn a highly accomplished railway recutlve and operative manager. He i a profound thinker. He regards his eld as not merely the operation of the 'eight and passenger departments of le Southern railroad, but as that of n agent In stimulating large business evelopments and the exploitation of ie rich natural resources of the south, resident Finley began as a steno rapner. nut even in in one eariy snoriand days he waa giving earnest heed > the possibilities which lurked In the reat resources of the south. Later he ave earnest study to the relation of le railroads to the people and of the eople also to the railroads. He Is lookd upon now as one of the best inform-, d men In the railroad world upon all ubjects relating: to the allied interesta f the railroads and the people. Oneot Is statistical Illustrations conveys an lea of the magnitude of the railroad perations of the United States. He ays that the operating expenses of .merlcan railroads In a single year are irge enough to pay the entire cost of uildlng the Panama canal live tlm< a ver and yet leave sufficient to fortify ' le canal and build battleships to dejnd It. No better concrete Illustration f the magnitude of the cost of opera ig American railroads has ever been lade.?New York Cor. Philadelphia edger. Agricultural Credits.?The Interna^ onal Institute of Agriculture at Rome isues a monthly bulletin In English lalian. French. Spanish. German and ortuguese. and this bulletin tells of grlcuitural advancement In all these auntrles. One article In a recent buK (tin which deala with co-operative agcultural aocletlea In France la Interring. It aaya that In France (or more lan ten yeara agricultural credit baa een organised under a special system ased on co-operative institutes and jglonal and local savings banks, aslated financially by the state. The tate, in fact, has assigned to purposes f co-operative agricultural credit large mounts, made up of the forty million >an without interest and other annual ayments made to it by the Bank ot tance and amounting to between tree and Ave million francs. Out ot lis fund, loans without interest are ranted to the regional banks, ami ley, in their turn, lend under condiona of favor, to the local banks the urns they need for the exercise of agIcultural credit pure and simple at bort maturity. The regional banks are lso empowered to make loans on long redlt to the agricultural co-operative icletlea for production and sale, as 'ell as to individual small farmers for ie purchase and Improvement of their s\l/4 era This svstnm ftf oroHtf hfls roduced good results, and Is contlnu!ly producing better.?Charlotte Oberver. ? Columbia, February 6: I. W. Bowlan, a r-romlnent member of the trangeburg bar, was elected judge of le first circuit by one vote on the first allot taken by the Joint assembly 'hich met at noon. He was opposed by enator E. J. Dennis, of Berkeley, and . Oty Reed of St. George. The ballot vaulted: Bowman, 82; Dennis 73; :eed, 6. Total vote, 160. Necessary to choice, 81. The senators voted 26 for >ennls; 14 for Bowman and 3 for Reed, he house voted 68 for Bowman, 48 for >ennls. The Tork delegation voted: enator Beamguard and Representave Halle for Dennis; Representatives [utchinson, Sanders and Riddle for owman.