The Barnwell people. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1884-1925, February 05, 1885, Image 1
COMPETITION
PADGETT LEADS ALU OTHERS!
—-— s .
WALNUT BEDROOM SUITES, io^IECES, $42.50.
A NICE BEDROOM SUIT^iS.oo
CT EVERY KIND AND EVERY VARIETY OF«FlT<tNITURE. JU
COOKING STOVES AT ALL PRICES. '
PADGETT’S FURNITURE AND STOVJE HOUSE.
1110 and 1112 BROAD STREET - _ _ - AUGUSTA, GA.
BTRefcr you to the Editor df thia papar.
BE FORGOT.
Importer of Jind Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Fine Cigars, Smoking and
Chewing Tobacco, Wines, Brandies, Whiskies, Gin, Ale, Porter, &o.
6.17 and GS9 BROAD STREET - - - AUGUSTA, GEORGIA,
ry Country orders accompanied with the cash promptly alien:led to.
" ft lay fi AM tfoi
FINE CLOTHING, HATS AND GENTS’ FURNISH
ING GOODS, BUT
I. L. STANSELL,
746 BROAD STREET, UNDER GLOBE HOTEL, AUGUSTA, GEORGIA,
God's lubanweL
Like the channel 7>f b mighty Htot,
God mtule toon Of autti, a
(Miureo ■ *
Throwfh which ho moaaa his bounties to
liver;
Wealth, love or Icarntng to Speed on
eoursc
To all this sufl'erinjr worhl. He who retains
V«r soul, or broina.
Ts grand endeavor,
s pride and selfish.
Ttie riches of )<M puno.
For his own use. defies G<
And chokes with weedso!
ness.
And rank, vilo growths, tbs bedway of that
ri ver.
Whose stagnant waters—meant to heal and
IdcRS—
Grow poisonous in their turbid overflow.
And bre<-d disease, and countless crimes alii
W(X!.
Is thy life crowned by knowledge and affeo-
li< n?
Hnst Him txs.n prosporod In a worldlr wayf
In thy heitit g cliuiuiel gaze with elose inspeo-
tinii—
Fee if foul weeds fill up Its course today.
Or do It* » holi-some waters run forth free.
Bo men may drink and share thy joy with
thl*?
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox In the Utlea Observer.
SINNING FOR LOVE.
Cnti gel away with them all in the wuyof FINE CLOTH ING, HATS AND
GENTS’ FlRNISHING GOODS for this Fall ami Winter in the very Latest
Styles and at Prices that astonish ever}body that look' atTtLcm.
He means to outsell them all. Give him a trial and yon will go home
(jest pleased man in the State. Li?' Don’t forget the place.
it
I. L. R T .A- 1ST S IT' Xj L,
K.
46 HR OAD STREET. UNDER fiLOBE HOTEL, AUGUSTA, GEORG
FLEASl RK AND FROFIT TO ALL.
WATCH AND JEWELRY REPAIRING AND FULL LINE OF GOODS.
Dealer in Diamonds, Watches, Clocks and Jewelry, "g'J Broad Street,
Over hill, and dale, and soft green
meadows, fell the golden haze of a
summer afternoon. A dreary silence
tiilcl the air, unbroken save by the
hem of the bees and twitter of the birds
in the trees.
Under the branches of a drooping
tire a girl was standing, a girl fair and
young, more than passing fair. Only
at this moment the beauty of her face
was marred by the expression of bitter
hate that darkened it. while her eyes
rested on a slight eminence that rose a
few steps away. #
She was in the shallow, and on the
mil another lady and a gentleman
were standing.
The girl, Uleta Manvcrs, watched the
,ove s. for such Hester I>eigh and Guy
Singleton most certainly were, her
eyes glowing, her breath coming quick,
! her hurt, little hands clenched convul-
| sively.
“Shi 1 will never he
1 cried passionately;
would take her life
hands. ” <
Suddenly, almost at her side, there
broke turtli, low, clear, and sweet, and
full of an almost agonizing pathos, a
; girl's voice in the ballad:
“Do not trust him. gentle ladv.
Though his voice be low undgi*eet:
Hi «1 not him who kneel* before thee.
Gently pleading at thy feet.”
A swift change passed over Cleta
Mnnu-rs’s face, and she turned in the
1 direction of the sound and came faoe
to face with the singer, a gipsy girl of
perhaps eighteen, a girl with a rich,
dark loveliness, hut whose face
his wife!’’ she
•lieforo that I
with mv own
was
and whose great dark eyes were
pain and despair, as well as
Opposite Central Hotel, Augusta, Ga.
GRANDYS & ZORN,
ROUGH AND DRESSED LUMBER.
Contractors and Buildeis, Manufacturers and Dealers in all kinds of I.nm-
l»cr and Building Material. Wc are prepared to take contracts or gi\e esti
mates on all kinds of buildings. Our Saw and Planing Mills arc at
“Grandys,’’ S. C., postotflee Windsor, S. C.
Wc also keep in stock at our yard on corner of Watkins and Twiggs Sts.,
Augusta, Ga , h>1 kinds of material us above stated. All orders sent to either
place will he promptly attended to. We are, respectfully,
GRANDYS A ZORN.
Jas. W. Turley’s
SEASONABLE SUGGESTIONS TO SENSIBLE I’EOPLE.
tier
hand on the girl’s
said;
ID 1R, Y Gr O O H) S.
Knowing full well that our jieoplc in general arc ecouotnizing, yet desiring
First Class Dry Goods, and seeing they know how to appreciate them, I Lave
determined to give them the full bcncHl of my extraordinary purchases, and
dispose of my Stock of Goods at the smallest profits.
GRAND DISPLAY OF FALL AND WINTER IMPORTATIONS
OF DRESS GOODS!!
Embracing the verv Latest Novelties in Fabric Colors, and intermixtures
of colorings of the most pronounced and
RELIABLE STYLES AT POPULAR PRICES,
In Plaids, Brocades, and Solid Colors, Iroin 10 cents per yard up to the finest.
tyTHE NEWEST SHADES IN SILKS AND SATINS.^
A handsome line of Velvets and Velveteens, comprising all the new and
pretty shades from 50 cents to the finest Silk Velvet.
An elegant line of Black and Colored Gros Grain Silks from .50 cents per
yard up to the finest quality; also a complete stock of Black and Colored
U. D. Cashmeres, a celebrated make.
Jackets, Ulstcrettes, Peiiscs, New Markets, Circulars, Jerseys.
Handsome Jackets from $2.25 up to $15.00.
Shoulder Shawls, 25c, 35c, 50c, <5g. Large Shawls, 2 yards square, $1 and
$1.50 each. Large Wool Shawls, black and colored, $2, $3, $3.50.
Ladles' Cloth and Flannel Skirts, 50c. to $2 each.
White Blankets, $1.50, $2.00, $3.00, $4.00 to $10.00 per pair.
In our Woolen Department can be found one pf the largest as well
best assortments of Kentucky Jeans, Kerseys, Cashmeres, Rcpcllants,
Proofs, Diagonals, Broadcloths, &c., all at bottom prices.
Plain Red and White Flannels from 15c. per yard up. An extra good
quality in Red Twilled at 25c, 35c, 40c. and 60c. Opera Flannels in all
shades; also Basket Flannels, in the new Fall colors. Dark, Gray and Blue
Gray Skirt Flannels. Bleached and Unbleached Cottou Flannels from the
lowest prices up to the very heaviest quality.
Thousands of doiene Ladies’, Misses’ and Chlldren’s Fancy Hose at 10c. up
to the finest, and fresh stock.
The Sooth Carolina Seamless Hosiery, in Men’s Half Hose, New Fall Mix
tures; also Ladies’, Misses’ ami Children’s, in Fall colors.
QT A visit of IjumacUonU tie sired. No trouble to show goods.
as the
Water
TURLEY,
St., Angwflte, Gm.
CL1VXLAND IS AHEAD IN PQLXTCS,
-BUT WE LEAD IN-
wstNiTUEue: ?
iOUR MOTTO, tike his, is “Reform”—Old High Prices mutt get oat of the
way and give way to the New Low Prices. We boy tot Cash, hence are able to
get the Bottom, as oaf Prices will prove. (Read and wonder.
% K
SOLID WALNUT MARBLE TOP SUITES, WITH TOILET
WASMSTJND, TEN PIECES, F0R NITTY DOLLARS,
Thia la what Cash does. We have Suites from this ip to $500. We are now
fitting up two Hotels, who bought’ as cheap from os as thev oonld boy from
the foctorioa, and a little obeapor. We defy all competition. Call and sec oe.
All mods packed and shipped free of charge.
OWl.ES & (X)..
—•
paled,
filli of
mailin'
< ’leta laid
shoulder.
• Have y ou seen him yet,’’ she
“have you seen Guy Singleton?"
I’lie girl's eyes grvw wild.
• I \i.ll never find him, never, never!
I ha\i wandered far and near, but I
see him not. He is gone, gone for
ever, but 1 must tind him;” and then
she turned in the direction she had
come, and fled down the pathway.
Uleta looked after her.
“I'- love woman's curse?” she said,
“Has it tx-en yours as well, fair
Cleta?” and a pair of dark, flashing
eyes were looking into hers, and a
dark, mocking face smiled at the ter
ror that actually whitened her lips.
A low cry left her lips.
“Vernon {singleton alive. n ' she
gasped.
“Alive and well, and as angelic as
ever,” ho answered.
“As G, ndish,” she said; then sudden
ly: “I thought you dead, and you are
here.”
“And gloried in the thought, no
doubt; and here I am, my oeloved
wife.”
Her eyes Gashed.
“Do not dare to repeat that,” the
said. “I am not your wife. There was
nothing in that ceremony that bound a
child to you—a child, mad with passion
and t>nin.”
“Yet woman enough for that pain to
‘ome from love, and unrequited love,
aa it is still, I sec;” and his eyes rested
on the eminence where Hester and Guy
still stood, unconscious of the watch
ers.
“I am afraid he is lost to you for
certain, now—even if I did exist no
longer. I think you may give np, my
dear.” Then changing nis manner:
“Listen, Cleta,” he said; “I will never
claim you if you help me In this plot"
“What is it?”
Vernon talked low and earnestly for
awhile, and Cleta listened silently.
“Meet me here to-nijjht,” he said in
conclusion, “and we mil settle the best
way to manage it”
The next instant she was alone again
—a new tempest of rage in her bosom.
“The fool!” she said; ’Sloes he think
I would trust him? Ho has signed his
own death-warrant.”
She met him that night, and listened
while hv further explained his plan.
The moon shone pale and high, but
as he turned to leave her It passed
behind a mountain of clouds, and
then
Then a pistol gleamed in Cleta’a
white hand, a shot rang out on the
night air. and the man fell forward
dead—shot through the heart.
The woman bent over him. Yea, he
was dead.
Down below, the river ran deep and
dark, and without a moment’s hesita
tion, with almost superhuman exer
tion for her, she dragged him towards
It.
It was terrible work, but she never
E aused, though her faoe grew palHd,
er eyes wild withfoaiv • - *
One last effort—a terrible ominous
thud. The body had sunk below the
water.
. She went home and entered as she
had left, unobserved, and threw her
self on the eouch, not to sleep, but to
think of her crime and wonder was she
safe. i
She was aroused, however, in a few
hours, for she hid fallen at length into
a deep doze; by the cries df Raster.
“Corqe quickly,” Hdster cried; “uncle
is dying. Be quick, Cleta.”
Cleta leaped to be? feet, her heart
beating. Only aa eld mea dying, Ah,
heaven, what had she leeredr Even to
her soul Ate feared to whisper that.
Yes, their uncle, or more properly
speaking, their grand-uncle, was dying,
nay, almost dead; the kind' eld
Ju
t
who had brought them ttb from child
hood. v- U! :t y v
“Where Is—Wheire is GeyF’ the dy
ing man said. ?
In a few mhmUe Us 'adapted son
•food at the bedsMet
The old man who had been more
than a falfaeV to hhn, and was a dis
tant relation, for the true name ae well
aa name by adoption of Guy wae 8ln-
f leton, wae ahnCet past speaking, but
e pointed to the gins.
‘‘Either of them, Gay, Ice you—you
He said no move—Us soul had passed
toitaGed.
Two days later they laid him to rest
in the grave, and thesi, kt the dim
old library, the will was read.
Ho gave and bequeathed all he pos
sessed to his adopted son, Guy Single
ton, on condition he wed Cleta Man-
vers, or Hester Leigh, within the year.
To his other grand-niece, the one whom
Guy did not marry, ha left ten thous
and pounds, to be paid out of the es
tate on Guy’s wedding-day.
If Cleta Manvel* whs a beauty, so
was Hester, of a different type, a differ
ent and a nobler.
Cleta was fair ae a Illy, with golden
hair and eyes of cerulean blue, while
Hester’s eyes were deep, soft brown,
her hair enustnut, thick and wavy.
Cleta’s face was rose-tinted and dim-
f iled, while a flush seldom stained the
air, pure pallor of Hester’s delicate
face.
With all the passion of his heart, Guy
loved Hester Leigh—his pure-eoaled
darling, he called her—and any one
might know, when the will was read,
that she would bo the chosen mistress
of the stately home where the girls had
spent their lives.
Up and down her own room Clete
walked.
He loved Hester, and the girl she
hated would have love, wealth, poeltioo,
while she would have ten tnousand
pounds.
“I would dye my hands red again,”
she cried, “before Hester should reign
here triumphant After all, my crime
might as well not hare been; yet I
could not have trusted him. Had he
lived, 1 cannot tell what trick he would
have played me.
“I was to destroy the will, and then
as nearest-of-kin he would inherit all,
and to me he would give one-third.
But the fool, to never dream the other
plot in my mind, which his coming
would thwart—a plot that will at least
f art Hester and Guy, and then perhaps
will win him. It ts my last hope.”
Whatever' her plot, she played it
well, for when, three or four months
before the expiration of the year,
Guy asked Hester to be his wife, she
simply answered him, "No.”
She gave no explanation, only turn
ed colitly away, but had he seen her in
the seclusion of her own room, he
would have known, no matter what
had caused her refusal, that she loved
him.
“My love, my love!” she cried;
“though all unworthy, I cannot tear
you from my heart”
Ah, what weeks would have been
saved—at least, what weeks of agony,
had Guy known the truth, had he known
of a gipsy mother who accused him of
wrecking her child’s life, had cursed
him with a mother's curse, for the gip
sy girl who had stood under the tree,
then fled at data's words, lay in her
f rave, and her last words to her mother
ad been the name of her lover, Guy
Singleton.
“My curse around him and around
the woman he weds,” she cried in her
frenzy.
Was it any wonder, then, that when
Guv Singleton asked Hester to be his
wife, white and trembling she refused,
turning coldly away from his pleading.
It was then that Cleta played her
cards well, for Guy found a sym
pathizer in her, and, maa-like, Guy
found sweetness in it—at least, a balm
for the time for the blow Heater had
given him.
Then it dawned upon him that this
girl, with her eyes of blue and hair of
gold, loved him with a passion he had
never dreamed of.
What man is not flattered by a wo
man's love, parHeularly if the is young
and beautiful—and thia girl was both.
With soft, sweet smiles she won him.
Not that hie heart yielded to her spell,
but his senses, dazzled by her smiles
and sympathy nnited, put his better
judgment to flight, though his heart
was, and always would be, Hester’s.
One of the girls he most wed, or leave
them both penniless. Ah, had he
dreamed of Hester’s pain and hopeless
ness of heart he might have less quickly
fled for consolation to another.
A few months inter—almost at the
expiration of the year—Gay Singleton
made Cleta his wife. Crime and sin
had conquered.
She was mistress of her ancle’s wealth
and wife of the man she adored.
She knew her husband did not love
her, but she had triumphed. In time
he would learn to love her. She
win his love.
Yes, she had triumphnd; bat did the
memory of the man she had sent before
his Judge oease to haunt her morning,
noon, or night?
Hester bore her pain in aiianoe. If
gentle, she wae far from weak, and
though her faoe grew paler, her eyes
more dreamy, none dreamed of the
weary days and wakeflbl nights that
were hers. She had loved Gay with all
the strength of her heart, but he had
proved unworth;
most
though it lay
loved him
ay.
Did the knowledge—had the knowl
edge killed her k>yer No—a thousand
times no! Love 1*
bleeding. Ah, ho# weu sbe
she never knew till he urea too husband
of another!
Her lifc stretched bare aad hopeless
before her, death would have been wel
come, or at least she beHsvud it would
have been, in the first great doeoktiou
of her soul >
Bat then in Cleta’s triumph—In the
very height of tt, toe halt dT God’s
vengeance fsll, whan tho end of all
things oamo.
One day wfcUl out riAng, a
leaped from a grove near whan
was passing.
A wild cry loft her Bps. Dead or
alive, Vernon Siagktoa stood before
her. Heavenly father, what dMteunoe
did it make? DeUdt had ho oeae to
hanat her—hviag, to dsag Mrflmm her
hi^h estate?
mocking kofh hnto*
the
retfred.
man s ups
then—then the
rose on its hind logs,* aad. Clem hrf
white and senseless ah toe
Without a look of _
;lanoed down on the marble
the pallid lips bbW flecked Vito 1
then tnrnea ahd feft her there till <
' ‘ h#
others
’ound her. 1
They carried her home, hut the doc
tor’s verdict ended all hope. She most
die. t
Ah, what change comae to) cur spirit
at the hoar of death. Then* indeed,
tho eyes sbe clearly, add a terrible fore
knowledge (hat fills the soul with awe
comes to ns. '[
Knowing that it was her‘death hied,
knowing teat all she had sintod for
was going from her now, she sent for
Hester and Gay, and told them all. The
story of her marriage to Vernon, whom
his unde had disinherited shortly after
(or his wild career.
How, when all believed him dead, ha
returned; and then the story of bar
crime—her crime that had toiled, for
consciousness had come back' to Ver
non when he struck the water, and the
wound was scarcely even dangerous.
Then she turned to Hester. _
“Hester, 1 led that gipsy woman to
believe that Gay was the lover who
wrecked her danghter’s life, but it wUs
Vernon."
Her breath came short and labored,
and a gray shadow fell over her face.
“Guy—Guy—I—I- Ah, God have
mercy r’
The next instant she was pleading
before His throne.
One year later Hester and Guy were
married, but they never speak Cleta’s
name, which, if not forgotten, is not
willingly remembered, save by Hester,
whose gentle heart cannot think bat
with pity of the beautiful, sin-etained
woman who lies in her grave.
Vernon Singleton never came near
them, but he sent a messenger for some
money, which Guy gave, and then he
passed from their lives for ever; and
then the past was forgotten by Hester
and Guy—the past darkness that had
ended in a happy present, and a future
full of hope.
Webster and Uts Wllfe.
IS
Mrs. Webster, whose maiden name
was Caroline LeRoy, belonged to one
of the old New York families, and was
in many respects a remarkible woman,
although like tho wives of many men
of great attainments she was never not
ed for any literary talents. She was
tall and fine looking, very erect in fig
ure and had a complexion which a
Philadelphia belle might be proud of.
She was vety particular about ner dress
and disliked anything not In the pre
vailing style, not wishing to adhere to
by-gone fashions, as so many old ladies
do, though her inherent good taste was
always seen in a desire to have suitable
toilets for every occasion.
When she told hbr numcroos and
impls experiences of life, we shra
were interested in listening to
tnii^gs that pleased her most—how Mr.
Webster used to call her the "Lady
Caroline,” of their evening walks, and,
indeed, many of her reminiscences
were very entertaining, were they lese
frequently or more coherently carried
out.
Mrs. Webster always read the news
papers, and though it is doubtful if she
ever fully realized that she was almost
alone in her generation, some names
took her back over a lapse of years,and
she recalled persons vividly. At the
time Caleb Cushing was appointed
Minister to Spain she remarked: "He
was a very agreeable man; 1 knew him
well.” She also said: *T wonder why
he never married?” The old lady was
always a great advocate of matrimony.
We once asked he? what she thought of
Henry Clay.
"Oh,” she replied, "Mr. Clay was
the thinnest man I ever aa#- He was
a great man aad a magnificent speaker
—not equal to my husband.of course.”
One day in reading Sir BL Holland’s
letters we saw an account ef a dinner
given to Daniel Webeter aad. Ms wjfls
when in England. Ws menUoned this
to Mrs. Webster, and she was verv anx
ious to see the book. A chord m her
memory was touched, and long dor
mant memories seemed to awake. She
related various little incidents of her
travels abroad, bat, though they were
then so feted and made much os, there
was no assumption of dignity on her
part; she merely took the attention
paid her as her one, being the wife of a
great man, the Secretary of a great
Nation. She mentioned driving out in
a barouche with the Queen ana driving
with her merely ss she would had she
done the same with aa acquaintance hi
her own rank of life. She
said: “Queen Victoria is a
looking person, bat an excel
man and very sensible. I have seldom
met an American lady at a dinner
party dressed as plainly and with as
tittle taste.”
The Hon. Alexander Stephens oaee
said of Darnel Webster: "I think Web
ster was the wont slandered man I ov
er knew. It is the general impression
in the country to-day that Webeter was
a great drunkard. You hear it spokan
of even now whenever Ms name Is msn-
tioned, but H is an ootrugeoas slandUr.
I will tell yon what I know aajnell For
six years while we were both in Con
gress I lived next door to him. His
house was as familiar to me as my own
garden. I was In these a great deal
and he was as often In mine, sad in all
the time of mv acquaintance with Mna
I never saw Webeter when he was in
the least affected by liquor or anderthe
influence of it in any way- * I hive
dined with bhn at his house sad mine.
I have met him at dinners aad aitfre
outside and 1 paver sa# kite In toe
least inebriated. I never Maid of his
being Intoxicated bat twice, pad on one
of these occasions—a dinnsr—he made
a speech.that tree grandly eloquent”
Timet.
« W" ' ' ■
A Presbyterian doctor of divinity ones
said to are at a General Assembly:
"Yon aewsaapsuMa mast hate duser
views of tofap. Yon are always look
ing on and never taking part Year
knowledge sad habits of thought mast
be vary clreuoifsfuaUal nadsaperfleinL
I suppose now your idea of toe Day of
Jndgmeat 1* that you sriU have a ta
ble off afdae side aadl report
EDO AS AL LEN VOtS,
wi 1
hrtusB
ml vfl-
1
mmmm
WkaaBaPs
Twenty minutes ride from the Gcuad
Central depot, writes k New York cor
respondent or the Troy Phase,
ns to the beautiful and historical
lags of lordham, fat tost
ward, and taming to the left
station and passing
tween the tnoes-covured
walls, aad great old te
Klngshrklge road, we soon reach 1 thb
last residence of the most famous of
American posts, Edgar Allen Poe,
around which duster so many sadly in
teresting reminiscences of the man who
was at ease the most distinguished and
most unfortunate of our purnly-nattve
writers. The place consists of a one*
‘and-a-half-story-house, with a lean-to
additfcn on one aMe and abroad veran
da on two sides of the main building.
All are picturesquely overgrown ami
covered with vines and creepers, and a
number of grand old cherry trees in
the yard throw n massive shade npon
the veranda. This all stands in tho
center of about two acres of soft and
velvety greensward. Near the house is
a syringa bush planted by the poet, and
on one ef the trees in toe orenard are
his initials, out by himself, but which
now hare lost much of their shape by
elongation by the growth of toe tree.
Back of the cottage stands the pins un-
dsr which Poe was in toe habit of re
clining for an hour at a time, "dream
ing dreams no mortal over dared to
dream before.”
Here, in 1846, Poe moved with his
child-wife (she married at 14) and bar
mother. Buried among the trees with
the scent of heliotrope and mignonette
and his few pets about him, he devoted
himself to the task of earning a living
by his pen, and that, only—a task and
a hope that has always bean a hallow
mockery, a delusion, and a snare.
In the upper story of this housa, un
der the slanting roof, which is reached
by a winding stairway, was his study
and bedroom. It is lighted by a large
double window and at the opposite tiae
is a vary ample open fireplace. What
a host of memories are crowded upon
this sacred, almost
r , . chamber. Here, many and
many p lime, has he
—pondorrd, weak and weary.
Over many a quaint and curious volume at
forgotten lore.
Here during the last sickness of his
wife, when the hand of death was fall-
inr gently, but surely and kr
ably, in that
bleak Deoember,
Vainly bad be sought to borrow
Prom hta books suwsass of sorrow sorrow
for the loat Lenorw;
for that rare and radiant ataMeti whom the
angola name Restore.
Here is the window at which came
the tapping of the ominous and evil
raven, and through which, whan he
opened it, with many a flirt and flatter
stepped the
bird from the
there, over the
Pallas, upon
perched himself and by his
"Nevermore” struck wonder, .
anger, and terror in the poet’s heart
Here he stood when be pleaded with the
gannt specter:
“Prophot,” said I, “thing of evil—pmehet SUB
If bird or devil—
Wbother tempter soot, er Whether tMimeet
loosed tbee hen ashore.
Desolate, yet ail unSauated, on the dsasrt
land eodunted—
On this borne by horror hatrated—toil me tn»
ly, I Implore,
Is there—U there balm te ODead} Ml raw-
teU me, I teuriorer’ *
Quote the raven > “Warermora."
And here on this spot on the floor is
where the awful shadow of death fell:
And my soul from out that Shadow that Urn
floating oa tha Soar
Shall be lifted—nevermore.
Virginia Elisa Poa passed swsqt Jan-
30, 1847, and was buried
snaak artist. GmatMM
ICuMyaM cThLl
you as you enter
hfliowod
>. » ! p
A mite sfafki " ~
and hair tni
steps at tfca^
meaning amd gaasa.
n*m mm anWarga wrwk
villa Police Court, Flftjr srrMto lfoWi
between Third and Xextegteu as**
nues. “• £&
"I’m Edith Jsteto Umm #i
old next January, aad m *
488 Lexington tvennsl** ton
Roundsman MaUfeeft, Wfen' SM
toe doer. "Maauaq’stok
a tetter canter, aulaaa’tMtl
so I came ^
"What <
Inquired the;
"Shoot a d
dtedly. “Ho 1
and papa are’frMfi PBi
bia if too dog's nte
"Whare dfi ns*
ctuttb ox evert bmfm
Hscu
Edith, potntluf to a i
of her right «y*ai
head. "I want te
grocery store, si 751 1
fore 'lectkw day te teqr
pins for mamma. A gem
the store had a big Mask
“What’s a giwsafeora
the listeners.
Ob, don’t juuknarj^
la surprise,
landed. Gt
York
old oouatgy.
boy; ‘How fi
faces.’ The
right alma.
my bead, aad L
almost is mf syi^Thi!
tot - - w* *
, *
darker shadotg than
» toe study floor
4 Foe, aad it teas
navy
rustic churchyaM here at Fordham,ate*
It 26 yean old. A di ‘
the raven throw upon
was upon the soul of
never liftod from it Poor bsfteq, fee .
was poorer now, and never a rapid ot
voluminous writer, he became sfowur,
and less frequent in his
hero, under too 'shadow
continued with great di
“Ulalume,” “Annabel
number of prows pieces.
Tho country lanes and by
section are exceedingly he
it was Poe’s delight to take
in. the early morning. There Is
of rocks near tot oottagnerowned
S ines and oedam, wMch command a
ne view of the surrounding country,
and which beloved, jnsre he would ai
for hours wrapped in Thought over the
composition of “Eureka,” which ha ha*
gau After his wife’s death.
There was a spirit of onMst find re
volt te Fee which refused te accept
whatever had established itself. Bern
in the lowest walks, of life, the thfldaf
•trolling pi%ysr»,’adopted IrtMr.
Ian, a wealthy gentleihadof Baltin*
he was gfren a splendid AdUMUoh. ’ Na
ture had liberally, nay booetifUBf en
dowed him with magulficaat talsfls,
which under other eiroumstaaoes would
have made hint a happy man, fin orna
ment to society, aad a monumsni ibf
honor to his country, hot for
slight freak he was cast adrift before he
was 21, with the edueatfoa, instincts*
and predilections, of a gentleman, bpt
without the material means of hording
the position be should hfve occupied in
society. Thus he became aj Uiissn-
thrope and a cynic.
With no means at hii
gain his own 4|VeUhood but ,
and his pen. h« turned te tetter* SW a'
means of support, a task ot mo#
herculean magnitude, a' task te
toe world of nterstnre hssyut te
dnee the man who has been
unaided by ttlteribr eooroea. flfe was
a particularly unfavorable time, for we
as a nation had not ret taken a -1 —
among toe literati of thaworito
aturewss net fostered as
plant that beaded the
nurturing at n
and flnanelsf
bring it to n
most wonderful
entire mag# of
Raven,” brought
sum of $15; and i
on toe
and]
papa. Df
and srer
Wffltoa.
^SSrkmV’HUHJtf
rn tan htes about to**
having Jnat i
tetewarVa
ap te Me trite."
"Papa,” ‘
totesraanj
lnd<
girei
St’W
y, , tM te *
court.-
•* 9 ■ ■■JM- .o
Wtrtaifr ’’-A*.
-Ml
■I*
by a
reflli
*r
*rt'’
7 f :
mP
"Ai__
fnxr*st. .■♦q . - • -
£ * -r
/
* . r..~
'K*at - ’
Jt<£ual. .*■