Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Urfest Circulation in the Count? lAlla to XtoaUad Him of tor* of Hia <)ol- " Ttonpora potoplur et apt muUmur UUa." I am now ia Athena, the ottj, mad muat quote eome Latin to be olaaaio, too, and abow that I have not forgotten my alma mater. "The timee nave changed and we ihaage with them,” aald the atia 2.000 yeara ago, and thin maxim la more atrIking now than It waa then i are amre rapid and more lln college, within walked youthful grown to be a unlreralty and we old men are straining our minds to keep up with the new order, the widening of mental and physical train lag which la now offered to TttO cnanges are more rapia am radical. Old Franklin college, whose unpretending walls I \ and atadied and expanded my yc mind, has grown to be n uni' our training wh boya. Tima wan whan we thought that Dr. Church and Professors lioKay, Waddell, Leoonte, Jaokeoa, Stevens, Hull and Nahum wood knew all that waa worth knowing in this sublunary world; whaa there wee no higher honor than to be a Phi Kappa or a Demoathenlan orator, or to be ohoeen aaa Junior orator of one of these socle ties. Time wee when to be in Idre with a lovely Athens girl was in itself a liberal education, for they were fair to look upon, refined in manner* and fascinating la conversation. There were only# score or two of them then, and they had the pick of 160 student*, young men of tne beet fnmilea oi Georgia and her sitter State*, and half a hundred new one* coming in every year. Just think of It; what a blessing to girls is the proximity of a male col lege or a university. But by end by there comes along a female college in the earn* town or city and then the boys have an equal ohanoe. My vleite to this classic city have beta (aw and fas between. I do not suppose there 1* a soul living here now who-waa here ia 1834, when 1 first saw ths little embryo city. My parents and my brother and I stopped over sight at the old Sledge hotel as we Journeyed from Boston to Georgia in a carriage. We went to Boston by see from Savannah, but came beck all tbe way by laad ln^ private carriage and never crossed a railroad. There was cone to cross. My next visit was eleven years later, when I came to enter the sophomore class. Two mules at tandem pulled our little oar from Ualon Point forty miles to Athena. There were common passengers below end a shore of uncommon ones on top, for they were college boys, and as auon, preferred to ride high juat as college boys do now. With whsl fear and trembling we went through the ex amination that ww^to determine our fate whether we were lirtrn tetMOexjor only Alien to get fittea. It was a thrilling sad momenteous ordeal, but we survived It. What awful majesty appeared In Dr. Church’s classic features and In the quick glances of his dark and piercing eye*. He was from Neat England, end after he came South married a sister of our Judge Trippe, a beautiful woman and the mother of live of the most beautiful daughters ever seen in one family. They were queenly. These yankeo school teachers ell mated with our Southern girls and didn’t mind owning a few negroes any more than so many horses or oows especially if they came with the wife’s patrimony. Old Judge Warren got his that way, but it cut him off from, his yenkee relations. Nathaniel Be man was another dis tinguished yaokee teacher, but wheth er he became a slave owner or not 1 have not learned. . My father we* e yankee school teacher, but didn’t get any slaves by marriage. He bought some, however, and that created a coolness among his Northen kindred. It took those yan- keee a long time to acquiesce in slavery unleee they came down South. Old Bill Seward tried to merry e Putnam county girl who had about a hundred, and because she wouldent have him he went bswk North and raised a howl abont slavery. Joslah Melggt, another Connecticut yankee and a grandson of Return Jonathan Melggs, was the first president of ihls college and held hU place for twelve 'years. I think that be, too. married e Southern girl—a sister of Governor John Forsyth. Next came Moses Waddell, an educator of great ranowt. He married a sister of John C. Calhoun and educated him and Legare and Pettigrew and other notable men before he became presi dent. After that he had for his pupils many of the great men of Georgia, in cluding Stephens, Toombs, Howell Cobb, Johnson, George Pierce end the Crawfords. And there were giants In those days. Some folks say there are just •• great men now, but there are so many more of them that they have be come common and do not-attract so mnoh attention. Maybe so—yes, maybe SO. VJN.— The poet says, H I feel like one who treads alone some banquet hall de serted,” and so do I when viewing these clauio balls and meandering in the shade of theee classic trees. All of my preceptors save one hare passed over the river. All my oollegemates save perhaps a dostn have followed them, and If Swedenborg divined the future State correctly they are going to school again In another world. Some of them who were dear to me have left children or grandchildren who greet me kindly for their father’s •ake. Fond memory recalls. the Churches, Dawsons, Ferrells, Howards and Boling Stovall, whom I loved, and there' was the gentle Henry Tlmrod, who was at lovable as a timid school girl. How often did we see him brush ing the dew from off the upland lawn alone or taking his evening - strolls Without a companion, but always kind aad gentle. We little dreamed that he was even then nursing poetic thoughts and breathing the sweet har- ' monlesof nature. Poor boy. How did our hearts bleed for him when long after we learned of his sufferings and his sorrows. Where now are the solid men of Athens who gave it character and dignity as they moved among their le ? Where is Lumpkin and the the Hulls and Mortons and ? Where the Newtons and Alton Chase and John W. Burke, whose marriage I attended? Where Is Dr. Nathan Hoyt and Dn Reese and Dr. Crawford Long, the discoverer of aaeathssia ? Where are all the sweet girls who jug in the choirs of the churches and old not vail their faces from a* a* we sat in the gallery and feasted upon their beauty r It is said that a song ontlivss a sermon, and so sweet girl singers still live In though the preachers’ eld- forgotten. ^ ola Bus, the Janitor, Iff the college bell and kept our Ud brought os ’possum and 'taters and other luxuries by night after the tntor* had gone on their grand rounds and all was quiet on the Oconee ? Where is Hansel, the baker, from whom we purchased ice cream or cakes for our evening walk*, and where are ail the pretty girls we used to meet or passed on the way to Gobham? I remember that It was herd I first saw and heard Toombs aad Stephen?, William C. Dawson and the Doughertys and Bishops Pierce and Elliot and other eloquent statesmen and dlvlnea. These men were my Ideals—ply stan dard of Southern manhood, honor and intslleot, and It grieves me to believe that the standard has been lowered sinoe the dose of the civil war. I am no pessimist, but It is easy to s«e that methods and means are tolerated bow that were not then—methods in the forum, in the -legislative halls, in B ditfos, It business and In the pulpit. ut etlll there Is much good that has ooma along with the bad and In every town aad olty and community there are more good men end women than Abraham could find In Sodom. Athens is still the central seat of art and learn ing, of good morals and good manners, and the pride of 'our State, and that citizen Is not to be envied whose love of • CHAPTER L , tub dinnxb or mama "I have greet news t<St yon, Mary. Captain Conway has been her*. ” "Captain Conwayf Tea! And what did he want, mother f What news did he bring T” Mary Hamilton took off her black straw hat aa ahe spoke and pushed tbe hair away from her forehead with a they form only' population, they The arranging plates, setting the tea- ins straight in tbe saucers, laying butter knife at an exact angle and ling away an infinitesimal creese wmi to in the white cloth. *n|pHto—be made a suggestion me, if tor,” she began nervously. "A suggestion I” Mary Hamilton aat down and eyed her mother expectantly. "Ton den’t mean that he proposed to yon. mother!” she exclaimed. "Something very like it,” replied Mrs. Hamilton, still keeping herself very busy with the table, For a moment there was silence be tween them. Mary Hamilton sat look ing with astonishment at her mather. and et last she spoke "I suppose it wouldn’t be a had tWhg in the mere way of money, moth er,’’.she said slowly. '• "But—tot—oh, mother, dear, you could never bring yourself to do it I” For the first time Mrs. Hamilton turned and looked straight at her iter. “My deer child,” ehe ex- "‘^weery gesture Mr* Hamilton busied * nd . wh0 " L re 1 ve , r ® n0e t r1 wereelf with the simple tee table, sssidu- hiatorlc virtue does not gain force as he ..iJL. ponders upon her history of B-hundred year* - . / RACE PROBLEM IN THE SOUTH. A Northern Preacher Presents StartW Ing Statistics of Crime by Negroto. The ** Race Problem in the South,” was the subject of a lecture by Rev. Dr. George D. Baker, at the old First Presbyterian Church, in Philadelphia a few evenings ago. The array of figures roduced by Rev. Dr. Baker, setting >rth tbe crime* oommltteed by col ored men, created almost a sensation among the large audience. Dr. Baker said in part: It Is both an just and ungeneronSt to say that the race problem In the South Is ‘ the negro’s problem,’ or tbe problem of the Southern people. It is a national problem, end It is the white man’s problem. Aside from Uae fact that we are one nation, so related that if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it, we are never-to lose sight of the fact that for the of this race problem the North is as much resuonslble as tbe South. " The negro came to this country not of hi* own aooord; he was brought here against hi* own will, end the drat State in America to legalize the slave trade and slavery by legislative act, and to sedd Out a slave ship, was Massachusetts. The North has, there fore no right to roll off upon tbe South the solution of the race prob lem. " It is not to be overlooked that bile there have been terrible out breaks of crime and Inhuman modes of puklshment In the South, there are some alarming facts with regard to these negroes in the North, which are not to be Ignored. * ::: — In our own State, where the ne groes form only 2 per cent, of the popo- etion they furnish 16 per cent, of the male prisoners ana 34 per cent, of tbe female criminals. In Chicago, while i-z per cent, of the furnish 10 per cent, of the arrests. The negro population, constituting about 11 p^r cent, of tbe entire population of tbe nation, fur nishes 37 per cent, of all Its murderers, and 66 per cent, of its female homi cides, and here is something most ap palling. "Tbe rising,generation of negroes lar outstrips in crime the generation that is passing off tbo stage. Two- thirds of the homicides are negroes under 20 years of age. Now, as a de fense against this carnival of crime, lynching has been resorted to, to a surprising extent. , “ Between 1886 and 1890, there were 1655 lynchlngs, against 1040 legal ex ecutions. -Most of these lynchlngs were in the South-about 80 per cent., and undoubtedly this has been due to the peculiarly exasperating crimes against women, committed by negroes in tbe South. It would seem that this extent of crime among the negroes, especially assault, has largely Increas ed since the abolition of slavery. ‘ The.e are two explanations of it. First, the'abrupt transition from slav ery to freedom without any prepara tion for it, including tbe gift of the franchise, doubtless gave the negro an Idea of hboEly, which In reality was license, ia- the second place, since the uegruos wore emancipated, the best people of the South have let them se verely aloce, so far as doing anything for their moral uplifting was concerned; while the bad people, and especially tbe bad politicians, have cultivated them extensively. A MODEL OFFICEB. The Boston Journal has the follow ing editorial complimenting an officer whose ability was recognlzsd during his stay In Greenville: A dispatch from Washington an nounces that Capt. E. M. Weaver, Jr., having completed his labors as Chief Mustering Officer of Massachusetts, is ordered to his regiment, the First Uni ted States Artillery. This closes a service of which Capt. Weaver may well be proud. Since he came to Boston, several years ago, as a First Lieutenant of the Second Ar tillery, at Fort Warren, he has been a strong, Inspiring force in the military life of Boston and the Commonwealth. Capt. Weaver was first instrumental in arcusing a wholesome public Interest In the matter of coast defences—his Initial paper on this subject, if we mistake not, was published in he Journal, and warmly com mended In these columns. Then he became instructor of tne First Mas sachusetts Heavy Artillery, at that time tbe only volunteer heavyartlllery command in the United States, and also military instructor In the Boston schools. When the war with Spain broke out, Capt. Weaver was promptly selected to muster the Massachusetts volunteers into the national sarvice. He performed this duty for five regi ments, with notable tact, precision and thoroughness, and—then he himself went away to the Southern camps as Lieutenant Colonel cf the Fifth Massa chusetts infantry. * Capt. Weaver has made a deep im pression In this State. He has success fully bridged over the ohaam which too often separates the regular and the volunteer.^ He has shown our citlsen soldiers that the educated offidfer has a vast amount to teach them, that theirs is a very serious and dignified profes sion, and that genuine discipline is not synonymous with harshness. Capt. Weaver’s work here Is work trhloh will endure. Massachusetts owes him a great debt of gratitude. . ^ ' —Governor Ktlerbe is thought to be improving la health. He is at the old family home at Sailers. "You can’t mean Mat you would liks ms to marry Captain Conway l" claimed, "yon don’t understand! There la no question of my marrying Captain Conway. It is—at least be never—beside* my devotion to your poor father’s memory should have kept yon from jnmping to any such concla J sion. Captain Conway is a good man, and any woman might be honored in marrying him. But my heart is in the grave, end—and, besides, be did not propose—be does not propose that I should consider the question of becom ing his wife. ” Mary Hamilton stared open eyed at her mother. "Deer mother.” she said gently, "I am tired tonight. Ths chil dren were very troublesome today, and tbe rooms seemed, more stuffy then usnal. I feel confused. Do tell me just what Captain Conway did suggest to you.” Mr* Hamilton began to pour out ths tea with a vehemence which showed bow perturbed in mind she wa* "Tour poor father always said that I was in judicious in telling new*" she cried in honest self abasement "I ought to have seen that you were tired. Here is your tea. darling. Drink it at once and have another cup to' go on with. The truth i* Mary. Captain Cbnwsy has flurried me till I hardly know whether I am standing on my head or my heal* and—and I never gave a thought to your being tired out with that hateful school Oh. to think that my daughter should ever had been a board school mistress, not one remove from a na tional school and your father e clergy man in holy orders 1" . "My dear mother, do explain your self. ” said Mary, a fearful sense of com ing evil gradually overspreading her. "Oh. my darling,’’cried the older woman, "it’s all over now—all the drudgery, all the pinching and the nlp- pingf I’ve said little or nothing because you were slaving your youth away in that horrid, degrading school, but now I may speak, now I may say how bit terly and cruelly I have felt U all. ths humiliation* the—the”— "Dear, there can be no degradation or humiliation in honest work,” said Mary patiently and yet with a dignity which eat becomingly on her tired young fee* "And whet do you mean by its being overt Not sorely that Cap tain Conway wants to marry me." "Tee. you I And. oh. my darling, it has made me so happy, ” Mr* Hamil ton cried, "almost ddlrloue with hap piness 1” "My dear mother, ” cried Mary, bolt ing a piece of bread and butter with what was almost a convulsion, "you can’t mean that you would like me to marry Captain Conway I” "Why not t” asked the mother blank ly "I couldn’t do itl" declared the girl stoutly. Mr* Hamilton's “Couldn’t "Couldn’t do it!” voice rose almost to s do it! Why, dear heaven, surely von would never dream of flying in the face of Providence by refusing bin I" "Certaini/ I would I” "Be Is rich l” cried Man "He is (fid enough to be my father." said Mary. "And Idoubtlf hetorkh." . "Captain of one of the largest ships afloat, "fee is exceedingly well offT He provide for yon adeqt excellent poeftion”— "I don't—couldn't hitn!” Mary burst out "Perhaps not; tot you him!" cried tbe mother. "I don't know that I should even do that much.” Mary suddenly clasped looked appealingly et you understand why I cannot do this thing T Have you been so unhappy in our little borne that you went to sell me to the first bidder? I've been so contented in working for you. Has it all been for nothing?” "Working for me!” Mr* Hamilton exclaimed indignantly. "Working for m* indeed I And what have I done all theee years! Look at my hand* work- ad to the bon* cooking, scrubbing, sewing, contriving, making my own hits "of clothes end never a place to show them in in this desolate wilder ness of bricks and mortar I No one to associate with, living a pensioner on your bounty, without pleupre* inter ests or change of any kindr' And then to have your work thrown in my teeth, indeed I” “Oh. mother I" "It's all very well to say, ‘Oh, moth er!’ But I’m speaking the truth. All theee years I have struggled end striven for you. And now, when you have a chance of letting me end my days in peace, you turn up your nose at a man whom any woman might be honored by marrying. ” "You married for love yourself,” said Mary in e very low vole* Mr* Hamilton caught up the words and echoed them in the high pitched, querulous acceuteof a thoroughly selfish and superficial person. "Married for lev*’’ she echoed shrilly. “Ye* end what did love ever do for me? I mar ried for love, married on £80 a year, drudged on it, slaved, toiled, almost starved on it Don’t talk to me about marrying for lev* Mary—love in a cot tage is a will-o’-the-wisp that leads many people astray, and your poor fa ther and I were among the number. Wes it natural right, proper, that he should die at 86, a wornoat, prema turely old men, leaving me helplea* homeless, penniless, to struggle on as beet I could, to drag you up as best I could T That was what marrying for love did for him, poor fellow I He never would owfi it. He died with bis hand in mine—hia last words ‘The Lord will provide’—and now when provision has come it ia only to be rejected.” Mary Hamilton aat still while this inconsequent torrent of recollection and vexation poured from her mother's lip* At tbe vision of tbe red faced, burly, bluff sailor being regarded as a provision sent by tbe Lbrd to take her from an independent life of honeet work to one of degrading idleneoe, she almost laugh ed aloud, but she resolutely choked down tbe inclination and spoke quietly and reasonably to tbe excited woman on tbe other aide of tbe tabl* "Dear mother,” she said gently, "cannot you for my sake endure this life a little longer! After midsummer we shall be better off. Even now w* can well afford to have a woman in to do the rougher work—it baa always been for you to decide bow the money shall be spent. For my sake, dear?" - "And why not for mins?” asked tbe mother fiercely. “Listen I He has laid ell his plana before m* You will have a charming house end garden, e couple of good maidservant* a handsome housekeeping pure* an ample allowance for your dress and pocket money. There will always be room for me—I am to live with you—to give the benefit of my advice, my experience in house keeping and all ouch thing* You will have os much society as you care to take—there will be no anxiety, no thinking about the rent or bow to get •even days’ dinners out of a certain aum. You will have”— _!‘Oh, d?u’t, mother; please don’t I” tbe girl cried. "I know ell theee things ere s temptation to you, poor deer. It must be to you just liks opening a prison door and seeing a lovely view over which you may walk forever on one condition. But tbe condition, deer mother, the condition I Think I It is that of reaching the fair pathways over your own child’s body. Oh, won* worse—over her very soul I It means the sacrifice of all that ia tort in your child’s Ilfs—the giving up of her free dom. her honor, her ambition, of all her better self. Don’t ask me to do it, deer. Pray, pray don’t l will work—oh, how I will workl How thankfully and grate fully 1 will bring you every farthing that I make, so that vou may be more content, lees straitened. Mother, dear, speak for me 1 For my father's sak* say that you won’t urge this upon m*” But tbe words of appeal glowing, lobat* heartful as they war* iled to touch the shallow nature of tbe women who In her day had marxied for love end bed found the dinner of herbs turn to dust and tabes between her teeth. She rested bar bead dejected ly upon her hand end gave several long drawn sighs of misery, calculated to move the heart of a aton*«. "Dear mother 1” murmured Mary from the other side of the tabl* But Mr* Hamilton abook tor bead resolutely. "No, Mary, It’s no use your ‘Dear mother I' It’s worth noth- saylag teg; H nothing. i Coa you many Captain Fve no wish to do aa I can’t make onwev; Indeed, I can’t make you see what la beat for you, although you might trust your own mother to give you good advice on such a subject I can do nothing tot bear my disappoint ment with resignation and fortitude. After all it la only pne more bitter pill to awallow, one more drop of bitterness In my cup of humiliation sad self aacrl- fle* I’D my nothing more, Mary, only —only—doot prate to me about love and devotion. I've proved the value of both today. And. after all my struggles to give you tbe beet of education, it's hard, it’s heartbreaking.” A sodden thought flashed across Mary Hamilton's mind of osrtaln clerical ebaritifla which had from ibe time of tor father’s death provided her mother with the wherewithal of living, of the grant institution wherein ehe tod re- xaother and becanaa of the poflltlon In Ufa which bar father tod occupied, tot ehe said nothing; ehe felt that it would be ueelma "So-toy dream end*” said Mr* Hamilton bitterly. "It mys somewhere ia tbe Btol* ‘Her children shall rim*up and calTbsr tiaassd.’ It's a fallacy, nowadays et least ; for veneration for parents has gone out of fashion.” Mew Hamilton eat back In her chair wondering whether it would to toff to let the storm peas in si lanes or Mr* Hamilton got up from and went blindly toward tbe door. I my blindly because she went stambffag- ly and groped her way like a p—on whom eyes were full of teem There war* however, no teen in tor aye* tat a strange sightleeniee* as If ehe had suddenly walked into a heavy see fog. Then at the door ahe stumbled,and fell not the sharp fell of e person trip ping by accident, but the huddled Q P dropping to tbe ground of one unable any longer to keep her feet. Mary sprang from her seat with a cry. "Mother—mother—yon ere ilH" she buret out. The answer came thick and indis tinct "Dying, dying I You have—kill ed—mel” - ' The girl tried to lift the prostrate woman, but found herself power lea* She sank upon he? knees in an agony of apprehension. "No—no—mother; don’t say that I Let me help you—only try to get up! I'll do anything to please you—mother —mother 1” CHAPTER U Dome in a mokimt. When Mary Hamilton found that her mother had slipped into utter uncon- sdousnea* she ran to them nearest begged them to come ih ier. 'B* l hsr mother waa with no little dlfficaltytlfted from the ground end carried up to heb. bedroom, end • doctor was quickly sent for. His flat was given without the smallest hesita tion. “It's a stroke, ’ ’ he aald, "tot it might have been much worm; for in stance, if it had been on the other side it would probably have proved fatal al most Immediately. Aa it 1* with car* your mother will probably recover and be quite or very nearly herself again. ” With car*! Mary HamiHon’a heart went down to zero as she heard tbe two little simple words which, give hope to some anxious watchers of tbe sick, but which open out endless possibilities of unattainable needs to those who are poorly placed in the world. In her case it meant having an'experienced person to tend her mother by day and night alike, for, be the circumstances of Ilfs what they won id, her work must go on just the same. With the best intentions in tbe world she could, not to in two places at one* Yet, bow was ahe to af ford skilled attendance for her mother? It waa • terrible question to answer. At this point the advantages of tbe alliance which the sick woman had been pressing upon her daughter came promi nently into view. During tbe course of tbe evening Captain Conway arrived, eager and anxious as to hia answer, only to be met with the mournful news that Mr* Hamilton had been seised with s ' paralytic stroke end was still unconscious. His first words were • suggestion. "You will went a nun*” “I shall want aosne one to look after my mother while ,1 am away at my tofeto. "Ql, mottorl Dqy't oMyed tor education tamjjl oast to tor "I Can’t 1st yon,” began Mary. work,” Mery admitted. "For tonight Mr* Robinson has kindly promised to stay with m* and tomorrow I must find some nice, respectable person"— "I will send in a proper nuxss at one*” said tbe sailor, sptoktng la rough but kindly accent* ‘‘Skilled nursing la half the battle in such cases as theee. I never did believe la make- shift nursing. It's the very—the vary mischief." He had been going to aae another word, tot changed It oni aL deference to Miry with a very percep tible effort over the substitution. "I can’t let you.” began Mary, at which he put up hie hand imperatively. "Now, Miss Mery, none of that, if yon pleas* I'm yovr Mend, aad friends are allowed to make themselves useful to one another in timee of trou ble all the world over. 1*11 take It ell on myself and win qpcount to your mother for the liberty l‘m taking when she's well enough to discuss such thing* 8o now 1*11 to off and will send in e suitable nurse at one* Good by I flood bless you, my dear I” - He roughly pressed her hand and was gone in s moment, leaving her stand ing looking desolately after him. She shuddered as ehe thought of him aa her possible, nay probable, husband; he was so bluff and burly and grixsled, so loud of voice, so red of face, so dominant He jarred upon every fiber of her being. Brft it was useless to fight longer against fate, even in tbe person of a man who was utterly end entirely distasteful to her. She bad struggled with ell her might against the sacrifice^! her soul’s tost instinct*, tat to no purpose. The threads ware drawing closer end closer •round tor, and if her mother recovered and still demanded the complete sacri fice of herself against which sto tod so passionately fought she had given hat word and must carry it through to the very end. Before a couple of hours tod gone by a white capped none In dainty uniform tod arrived at the little boom and tod installed herself in charge of the caa* end when Mery got home from tor work thq following afternoon lb* Hamilton pronounced to be vastly improved. Her first mumbled words were as a death knell to Mary’s heart "You— psonriaed,” she said thickly. ^ "Ye* yea; I have not forgotten,” Mary said hurriedly; "Don't think of that, dear; only get well and I will do of toss to hide U. to. to—to go on living tto life as toe had anything you lik* ” The sicl sick women gave a murmur of satisfaction and closed tor eyes again. Mary turned away end went to the window, where she stood looking out trying to keep herself under control Her face was whits and sat, tor hands shaking and cold. So tor mother bad not forgotten; the sacrifice would have to to made and she must at no distent time eel! herself into a slavery which would be a living horror. And this was t)M ubA of all tor toil of all her am bition* at all her brilliant hopes and vivid dream Inga I Small wonder that tor heart seemed aa If it had turned to water within her; that her soul seemed numb end dead, as if she had lost herself in k deep and treacherous morass from which she could never be extricated, try and struggle as she* would. I need not dwell upon this pert of Mery Hamilton’s story. Tbe hot and dusty summer days dragged drearily by, each one bringing the Inevitable nearer end nearer. Mr* Hamilton slowly im proved in health. Mary went to and fro to her work, the white capped nurse re mained in attendance, and Captain Con wav hovered around the little house hold like a good angel an angel with a red, weather beaten face and with a very large circumference. < The end came ell td^poou. He spoke to her one evening, told "her hia hopes and fears—a great many hopes it ffiust be owned and a very few fears it muft be confessed. And Mary told him hon estly that she had never thought of him before her mother’s illness as a possible husband, told him she had never thought of marrying him or any one ele*.thank- ed him, with tears in her gray eyes, for his goodness to her mother and promis ed that if he wonld not expect too much of her she would do her best to be • good and faithfnl wife to him. Captain Conway’s answer was char- acteristic of the man. He told her with all tbe assurance and confidence of an Adonis 20- years his junior that be was perfectly satisfied with her prom isee ; that he wonld teach her to love him when once she was really his own. Mary ebnddered. but allowed the mark to pass in silenc* and, if tbe whole truth be told, let an in prayer escape her heart that some tmm derboit might fall and strike her before that terrible day dawned. Such prayer* however, are meetly futil* Mary’s wedding day dawned all too soon, and the warning, ‘‘Be not afraid with any amazement.” rang out over tbe beads of an ashen pale bride, who had steadfastly and resolutely re fused to allow herself to be decked in bridal attire; a rather nervous and rubi cund bridegroom, j?bo dropped the ring and mumbled bia vowa defiantly after the officiating minister; a mahogany faced groomsman and a frail elderly lady in a mauve silk who leaned upon the arm of a tall young woman in nurse's uniform. So the sacrifice waa completed I To Mary Hamiltoc, Mary Conway by then, it passed like a hideona dream, only there was no awakening. “My darling child I” cried tor moth er enthusiastically. "I am ao happy! My dear child!” "I am glad, mother,” Mary whisper ed back and wondered the while if God would ever forgive her for the false vows she had plighted, tbe outrage she had done to herself, for being, tbe living lie that she we* And then began a life which waa an hourly, daily torture and martyrdom. Tbe husband waa quick to see that he had made the gravest of all mistake* that he bad bought tbe casket, but could not possess himself of the jewel within, to realise that hia wife was hi* but that her heart waa miles end miles ewey and would never be hi* even though he were to live for a thou sand year* He waa quick to learn that he wonld never be the master to teach this particular pupil to conjugate the verb to love, and r the knowledge, coming upon hia passionate love and admiration for her, was as oil poured upon a fierce flam* How can 1 describe thoee few weeks which passed between ths marriage and Captain Conway’s first departure on a voyage to tbe other aide at tbe world? They were hideous I Mary, who had toes awakened els* was possessed of only one desire—to hide the truth from the mother for whose sake she had sold herself, to hide from her the knowledge which bed eome to her all too surely that the genial, bluff, jovial sailor, with hie frank, hearty ways and his open handed generosity, waa in reality of * coarse and calculating nature, which had taken count of every farthing that lie had expended and who looked to have payment and interest for every •ingle coin, to hide from her that bis geniality too often meant drink, and that his frank bluffnees was merely the cover for a vindicative and passionate temper; to hide from her, in short, all that he really and truly was. It waa not until within a few days of the time fixed for the Bailing of Cap tain Qttway’a ship that there was ac tually any open disagreement between them, and even then the fall measure of her humiliation and misery came upon her like a thunderclap. It happen ed that Captain Conway had been ex plaining to her how she mast manage about money daring bis absence. “The rent tt paid,” be said.—"And you can draw £10 a week, which ought to cover the bare expenses. If yon fall short at the end of tbe month when the wages are due— Are you listening, Mary?" be broke off in a voice of thunder. "Yes, Edward, of course I.am listen ing,” said Mary with a violent start "Then what do yon want to look like that toil Do yon want, to make me- thlnk you’re pining because I am go ing? Bah! You're enough to sicken a man, you white faced cat” The girl’s first inatinot was to start to her feet. Her fingers almost without tor own will clinched themselves to gether. her cheeks were aa red as peo nies until In her anger at such an In- salt they faded - to tbe paleneas of death. Then ehe remembered her moth er, the frail weak, feeble aoul who per is calling GKptain Quo way her bqy and in attributing to him noble and generoua attribute that 'Edward, don’t say that 1” the began craaly. "Yon will frighten my mother." : ."And if I dot” to cried roughly. "It’s always mother her* mother ttor* What do I cere whether she’s frightsn- ed or not?” "Yon frighten mel” Mary gasped, and in truth she Was shaking in every limb, shaking like an aspen leaf in * l "I’m glad of that It's a relief to find I can make you fed something. Whet did yon merry me for?” “YOu wentedme to marry yon,’'toe said unsteadily. "I wanted you! I—I— Ye* and yon laid yourself out to please me"— "My God. not” toe cried sharply, forgetting for a moment her policy of 'conciliation. And then—I don’t lift to write It; I don’t like to think at it— then there was a blow—a fall—and dead sileno* only broken by the deep drawn, gasping sobs of an outraged and broken hearted woman. ^ ’ For • moment be aald nothing. Then be seemed to pull himself together, and be put out his hand to help her. "I didn’t, mean to do that,” he mid shamefacedly. "I ought no* to have done it You drew it on youraeK. Mary, but I’m sorry. Kiss me u»d be friendn ” She put hie hand aside end ram to tor feet without eld, and there they stood fading each other, he flashed end ^ ashamed, she with the mark of hie hand ’ upon her face. a "You struok met" toe fepr-wbole face and being! 'From a passive martyr she tod become accusing spirit “You—etrnok—\ Tto words hissed ont like whips g '^iCtting through the air. The man I shrank a little as be heard. "I fon •al to to forgot myself," he "I admit 1* I friend*” Tbe girl’s gray him and seemed to look into soul "You told me you wonld me to love yao." ahe aald with •corn. “Your way ia rough ark I congratulate yon upon your "Mary,” to toxstout ’"Yon did care—you’ve chested me”— “Care—I?” she echoed. "Yon strong for a men—I am i for a girl for eU my Bis •d in sitting, -jt a desk Yon toto kill me if yon Bk* I daresay yen vrift and I shall not mind, for at IflpStlt will take me out of thi* fertM afig tote I will toll you one thing, ll myself for not,caring, ceased to ranroieh ttyelf. for loathed yon. New, with all thank God for 11" .r” —Nikola Test* the inventor, is a fir believer la the efficacy of sleep. He •eye: "I believe that a man might live two hundred years if he eould sleep most of the time. That is the way negroes live to snoh aa advaaoed aie,—because they sleep so much.” ^ Tto | to escape from prison he doesn’t atop to argue about it; he breaks ont as (prickly i ss ever he can. He. Knows I that every moment’s delay , may lessen his chances of ss- | cape; but when a man ia sifk he too often po stpooessMs opportanity of getting wall , and says: "O, perhaps I’ll i he better next wuez* at ‘"neat month.” The weeks and on and every day his I ef aacaping from the d Lcae toevenr man i | who is tutoring from any | form of weakness or disease due to Imperfect nutrition. ! This marveions “Discovery’’ ‘"OKS 1th. It gives solid ‘ tcnlar strength, *y fully. Mr Frank a. Starts, of PsyrttevtUs, Fayette Caracas, writes In a letter fo.Dr. Pterss: "ft afibras me pleasure to testify to the remarkable - _ „ to the reamrkaMe five power of I>r. Pierce’s Colden Medical I was severely iflUctcd with trouble img*-^spitting ap blood, and I was unable to continue nfy s several remedies which gavs-me curative p Discovery. In my luni I had commenced to thlSk then was aS hope for mgv hr. Pierce’s OoMea Medical Dis covery was recommended to me SO I tried ft and m to improve at ones, aad was soon able to «. I consider ft a wonderful mcdl- Bvery man who wants to save doctor's bills should send at one-cent stamps, the cost of mailing only, to Dr. R. V. Merc* Buffalo, N. Y., for a copy of hia looopage Illustrated book,”Common Sense Medical Adviser,” in paper covers; or yt stamps for cloth-bound copy.