VOL -xxx
is Coming
OIK I R.Sffc.Buy your presents I
Christmas Sale
plete. and. if you desire,
Commences
FRIDAY
* * before Christmas.
DEC. 1 1893. ___
■■■■■■■■
We are showing a large assortment of Beautiful and Lseful Pres
ents. No trouble to find something to suit you if you COME AT
ONCE.
NOTHING NICER THAN ONE OE OUR
Banquet Lamps, Brass Lamps,
Piano Lamps, Onyx Stands,
Oak Stands, 'Mahogany Stands,
Gold Chairs, Pictures,
Easels, Screens,
Music Cabinets, Book Cases,
Writing Desks, Blacking Cases,
Couches, Rugs,
Rocking Chairs in Endless Variety.
-Mo Fine Decorated Pottery#-
WE HAVE
Doulton, Royal Worcester, Tepletz ant
Many Other Fine Makes.
VIN TABLE WARE++*
WE HAVE
China Dinner Sets,
Porcelain Dinner Sets
Plain White China Dinner Sets,
Fancy Dishes of all Kinds
~TOILE7T SETTS
CMi TEfLETON
Butler, - Penn a.
The First Cold Wave
Of the Season Reach,
ed us This Week
And is liable to be followed if weather predictions are realized b>
many more of much greater severity. We are prepared for it and can
offer you seasonable goods in all our different departments. Hard
times did not prevent us laying in a large stock of
Stylish Winter Wraps,
. Dress Goods and Millinery,
and we never had such an elegant line of Hosiery, Underwear, and
words fail to describe our Blankets, Flannels, Yarns, Outings, &c.
A visit to our
Munffljtb CM and Millinery Department,
which is the largest and best lighted in Butler county; will convince
you that this is the Ladies' Emporium for styles, finish and quality.
The Celebrated Rothschild Wraps need no comment, as they arc
acknowledged to be the best fitting garment manufactured in this
county. The only place outside of Pittsburg where you can L'ct these
wraps is at the popular store of
Jennie E. Zimmerman.
N. B. Space prevents us quoting prices, but we guarantee our
prices to be the lowest in Bmler county in each and every depart
ment of our store. HOT COFFEE ON SATURDAYS. J K. '/
DON'T buy until you see
DOUTIIETT <fc GRAHAMS
bargains in Clothing, Ilats
and Gents Furnishing Goods,
Cor. Main & Cunningham Sts.
BUTLER, PA.
GREAT SALEtf ~
This is the kind of weather to buy
sleighs,robes and horse blankets cheap at
MARTINCOURT & (JO'S.
Come and see us, 128 Last Jeflcrson St., a few doors above I.owry
House.
THE BUTLER CITIZEN.
COLBERT & DALE,
242 S Main street,
Butler, Pa,
We are pleased
to inform those w lio
appreciate clothes
that are comfortable
and fit correctly,
that our selection of
Fall patterns are
here. They are
%)
handsome and mod
erate priced. See
them.
41and,
Tailor.
+GWYES+
ir.' our specialty this week.
Gloves for 451
75c Gloves for 65c.
f 100 Gloves for 90c.
Ini our Entire Glove Stock at Equally
iOW Prices.
[HE RACKET STORE,
120 South Main Street, i'utlcr, I'a.
Hotel Hutler,
J. H. KAUUKL, I'rop'r.
This house has been thorough
y renovated, temodclcd, and re
itted with new furniture and
:arpet*; has electric- bells and all
<ther modern conveniences for
juests, and is as convenient, and
lesirablc a home for strangers as
an be found in Butler, I'a.
Elegant sample room for use of
ommercial men
I ;■*•••■• • •« 1
LKWIS M. Rjm'M, ■
South Hartwick, IT. T.
[LS, CARBUNCLES!!
AMI HH
!! TORTURIN6 ECZEMA, "
Completely Cured I M
SAftfiAPABIIXA CO . ■■
S >-r»o |tn V l ' I hid 4, L: f»'rippp M ~
ruut bar* jtoUuned my I.l<whJ u
C t/> "Hhinclea "
E» ur is t h*7T wont form. I took IWTS
of Dr ■ but th«y left me v;rie§g|
«bk to work- W
JH I m terrify sfflktcd withss
1 L' boil*, had »ix *n-3 tu o rar- »>
M it on** time. I IT.- -i -fn".
hrtr of but eor.ti:,a«! to ha*e boll*. '
AT Add*d v. «u. rv.# l>ifnaM
■ » » tonmued m-; rjzjrht and ctjr. t- *
iu inten*». I bad Kr-re paiea in r'.zhlSa
1 bark, runtin.ial hcadMhf. !■■
DCQ »■» di«rr uraeed. At igi
n CO htsrd of DANA 8 SAfifiAi'A-s
, eoramraecd u*»ng it and the thJrUH
COBfletfl) H BCD rr/ S
Ycmzt resprrtfu'^T,
uwu M KDMUHD4. ■
Hirtt. k, N V
mm The tnui uf the abore it crrtifWl u> br
■ IL K. BOLBBOOK, P. M. ■
booth JUrw.i. h*. V =
I Dana Samparilla Co., Bttfasi, Main*. {■
C. & D.
ALWAYS
Take into consideration that money
Raved is as pond an money «arne .
The best V:H) to pave m r;»y ie to
bo? go</d •- at the rigf>- price
Tbe only that our tra-Ie ie
increasing constantly is tbe fact ih .t
we handle or;If goods of first quality
and Bell them at very low prices
We have takert una-'uul care to
provide everything n»-vv in Hats and
Goods for this seat-on,
and as we have control of ii:an
especially good a- ides in both lines
we can do you good if you come to
as.
W< confiri« Lilly say that in justice
to theme- Ives ail should
inspect onr goods.
Visit us.
a.
[Cor> :; .. bj-A-N K«!iocz
CHAPTE3 XIV.
11V KATE.
Cntii nearly even in;* <~f the next
day 1 was soli , n- T * in that house. t"n
-iißun! or.t- f-tloor labors kept, Le Fevre
away from early morning 1 till dark;
and neither Corclie nor her father ap
peared at the breakfast or dinner
table.
"De ole massa powerful sick in 'le
night," said one of the women who
waited on me. " 'l'ears like he done
git no sleep, and Missy Coral up an'
down wid him. Tell us what we do
for yo\ sah, an" we do um."
I strolled down to the bayou and
strolled back. I tried to get interested
In a book, and threw one after another
aside. Was it the natural longing- for
her who had now become necessary to
my existence?—or was it the restless
ness provoked by the shadows of com
ing events?
Coralie—always Coralie. She had
taken possession of me: I could think
of nothing else. I have ventured upon
no description of her face and form; I
will not. She was all that Mr. Dorion
had said of her, and more.
JJut who was it that thna thought of
her and hoped for her? A poor adven
turer, with a few paltry dollars in his
pocket; a dependent this moment
upon her father's hospitality.
Aye, indeed: —was that my position?
Be it so. The other side of the ques
tion quickly appeared. There was
danger threatening—danger to Coralie.
The very air was full of it, since the
ill-omened visit of the previous night.
"Did he say anything about yon, Corry?"
was her fathers anxious question.
What might he have said? —what could
he say?—what was it that he had
threatened to tc-11 all through La
Fourche? —the threat of which had
forced Mr. IJostock to the humiliating
confession that this scoundrel was his
Evidently the mysterious terror that
brooded at Pierce Bo&tock's heart
largely concerned his daughter. The
man who sought her must seek her
under this cloud. He must take his
risk. Was I prepared to do this?
Was I prepared? Yes! A thousand
times yes. I would face anything,
dare anything, for her. I exulted,
with a fierce exultation, to know that
there must be some sacrifice on my
part. I wanted something to dare;
something to suffer for her sake.
The parting words of Le Fevre on
the previous night recurred to me.
"The old man couldn't live without
her. I've sometimes thought that the
love of her is all that keeps him alive.
Many promising young fellows, the
eons of the wealthiest planters about
here, have tried to court her, but he's
driven them all off. lie lias seemed to
be in a perfect terror of her falling in
love with anyone. But he needn't
have troubled himself so far. She
hasn't eared a straw for any of them."
Would it not be so with me, both as
to the father and daughter? I could
not tell. liut I resolved to quickly
find out. Events were fast shaping
my course, and the startling occur
rence of the evening before had em
boldened me to speak out.
It was almost sunset when she came
down from her father's chamber,
wearied from loss of sleep, languidly
beautiful in her white wrapper, with
her black hair unbound and fastened
back with a net. She came and sat by
me on the sofa.
"51c is asleep now," she said, antici
pating iny ciucstlon. "I hope it will
last long enough to rest his poor dis
tracted mind and his weak body. It
all comes from the shock of that bad
man's visit last night. He will not
talk with me about It—but in his sleep
he cries out his name, and prays him
not to speak of me —and O, Mon Dieu,
It is horrible! Can it be that this hid
eous man is my brother?"
"I fear it is so. Mr. Dorlon told me
so. He said that he came to the plan
tation near Vicksburg when you were
an infant, with your father; that ho
was always called a son; and that it
was supposed, when he went away
during your childhood, that on account
of his evil course your father had hired
him to leave."
"Ah, me! I have no memory of him.
Why does papa fear him?"
"I wish I knew."
"These things are dreadful. What
arc we to do—what will become of us?"
"Do not despair. We may never hear
of that man again."
"Ah, you do not know the condition
that poor papa is In! It Is pitiful to see
him. He begs me not to leave him; he
calls on (Conrad not to betray him."
"He Is delirious "
"No, no; it iB In his sleep. Since last
night, it has seemed to me as if I could
never be light-hearted or happy again.
It seems as though some dreadful
calamity was threatening us."
"You want rest and sleep yourself.
You must not be so sad."
"Am I sad? Well, think of it. Here
is papa, sick with fright from that man;
he will die suddenly, some time, the
doctor says- and then there is nobody
to protect me or care for me. Mr. Le
Fcvre, perhaps -but he is so rough,
though his heart is good. I am
troubled"
All this was merely the natural out
pouring of the heart, by one whose life
had always been sunny, who had not
known what grief was. It was my op
portunity; I could not neglect It. My
heart beat fast as I took the plunge.
"There is fine to protect you, Coralic;
there is one w ho would die for you, but
who hopes to live long for you. Have
you not thought of mo in this
trouble?"
She looked down; her long black
lashes lay on her fair face.
"I did think of you," she said. "Hut
1 did not know how you felt toward
me."
•'Not know!" I echoed. "Could I
have toiii you plainer than by my
looks, my actions, my very alienee?
Shall I tell you now that 1 love you
dearly, and will stand between you and
all peril?"
She looked into my eyes; her head
was on my shoulder; my arms were
about her.
"O Dorr, is it true?" she whispered.
"I have dreame<l It, but never dared to
think It. Is It really true?"
We sat an<l talked until tin- twilight.
I do not know how long; I only know
that the world was lost to both of us
In that time. Why should I repeat
here what we said, the vows we ex-,
changed, the air castles we built?
With lovers and first, love the way has
always been tin- »mt since the days of
fcden before the serpent.
Coralic at length started up.
"Let me go," she said. "I have been
too long away from papa. If lie has
waked he has mi l ed inc."
She 100 l d to the door, and a
start. My arm was still aliout her; my
hand held hers. The figure of a man
»too<! in tin- doorway. The blinds
wen •■!! the windows were up; the
brilliant twilight Illuminated the,
f oc,m b^titjiu<i bowcd_Jig-
m T TLTCK. PA., FRIDAY. DKCEMHE]{ S. ISiK*.
urc or fierce liostocli. icaumi; oa ru»
canes. Ife faw us: he saw our attitude.
I had become used to his moods, to his
ptem nrd forbidding facial expres
sions; yet I must confess that nothing
had I seen in him to equal the blank
dismay, the consternation, with which
he saw Coralie in my arms.
CHAPTER XV.
THE STCXNING TRUTH.
He tottered to a chair, and sank in it.
"He, too!" he moaned. '"Must he
share in the punishment? Must every
thing I touch be destroyed? Just God,
my punishment is greater than I can
bear."
I was about to try to explain the
situation in which he had found me.
Uefore I could do so, he reached out to
the bell cord and jerked it. A slave
girl presently appeared.
'•Close the blinds; shut the windows;
bring 1 a light," he commanded. She
obeyed.
When she had gone, he told me to
lock the door. I did it, wondering
what was next to happen.
"Now we are alone; we shall not be
disturbed," he said. "Tell me what
this means."
I still held the girl in my arms; she
tried not to escape. Her compliance
emboldened me; I spoke out, not only
as I wished. but as I thought she would
have me speak. .
"Mr. Bostock, if I have presumed too
much upon your friendship, and upon
the kind treatment I have had in this
house, I beg you to forgive me. I can
only plead my love in excuse. I am
poor, as you know, but for yon and a
very few others, I am friendless; but I
love Coralie. It come of itself; I did
not seek it nor invite it; I could not
help it. That is all."
I watched his face closely, and mr
heart sank ae I saw that it was hard
and cold.
"Indeed!" he said, with something
almost like a sneer. "Perhaps I ought
not to be surprised at this, but I take
little heed of what passes around me.
Corry, how is it with you? Speak the
truth to me, as you always have. Is
this merely an idle fancy—or do you
love him?"
"I do love him." She raised her
head, and looked steadily at her father.
He heard me; he heard her; and his
harshness disappeared. lie crossed
his arms upon his breast, he bowed his
head upon them; great sighs burst from
him as he rocked himself to and fro.
".My crime—my crime!" he moaned.
"Must they suffer for it? —they, the
innocent ones whom I love!"
Coralie heard that cry from his
despairing soul and was on her knees
by him. She clasped his hands; she
\
"IT'I THE MAUK Of < "
begged him to look upon her, to kiss
her, to call her his darling. He looked
at her, hut it was with rueful, despair
ing face.
"Dorr," he said, "come here. Sit
down in this chair before me. Sum
mon your strength; and you, Coralie
be strong, if you can. You have con
fessed that you love each other; let
that love strengthen yon for what i;. to
come. The time has come when the
hitter truth must come out. It is an
hour that I have feared and dreaded
for years, and one that I have prayed
mitf ht never come. Yet how can I hold
ilence any longer? When a man tells
me that he loves you and would marry
you, Corry; when you confess that you
love hirn 1 must speak out. The lie
that I have lived for your sake, my
child, can no longer bo concealed; you
and Dorr must know it. I'ray God that
the truth shall not divide you!"
He covered his face and shuddered.
I looked at Coralie; I sought to take
ier hand. She withdrew it, and looked
with frozen face at her father.
"You spoke of poverty a moment
since," he resumed. "That is nothing
-tome. ! am rich 1 like you. Dorr
'ewett, as you know. I could depart
in peace if I knew you two were to he
bappy. Hut "
lie looked from one to t he other, and
hesitated. He had bidden us strengthen
jurscl ves for the revelation that he had
not the courage to make.
"Coralie, give me your hand."
She placed it almost mechanically In
his palm, lie held It up and looked at
It a shapely little band, with tapering
lingers and rosy nails.
I thought his mind was wandering;
I WHS almost sure of it when he spoke
(gain, rudely, almost fiercely:
"This is the hand you want, I)orr
Jewett, is it? Look at it closely, lw>y,
closely!"
Coralie softened and trembled. She
must have thought, with me, that he
was crazed.
"Look at the base of the finger-nail;
M:e the little quarter-circle, which upon
vour nails und mine is pure white.
Look at hers!"
We looked. The circular mark was
tltisky and elonded.
"Aye, It is the murk of Cain! It
Kpeaks a terrible truth, that I have
kept hidden from the world. ISut one
man living knows It, beside myself;
there was another once who threat
ened to reveal it—and I slew him.
(iirl, there is a drop of blood in your
veins that is of the despised race. Yon
are my child; but your mother was not
my wife. She was a slave; and you,
following her condition, are also a
•la vet"
CHAI'TKB XVL
WK TWO
I have no very clear idea of what
immediately followed that a't-oundiiiK
revelation. Ido remember that there
was a silence in which the tick of the
clock on the marble shelf sounded like
thunder. I realized the fuil force of
the discovery, but was made dumb
and motionless by it. Coralie, I think,
lid not at first fully comprehend it.
lier great eyes were lighted with curi
ous inquiry.
"Why, that is strange, papa," she
Mild. "That dreadful man's mother
was not my mother; I am very triad of
that. Hut who was my mother?"
"Louise Le Honfant, a In-autiful
I'reole, whom I bought ol Napoleon
('astex I I,'tuyUt fur, girl—do you un
derstand? She died in giving you
(jJrth, and the sliaum and sorrow of
(VE HEARD THE STORY FROM JTIB OWN
IJtPB
this bitter hour are spared her. The
blood of the best French families of
Louisiana for generations back was in
her veins: she was beautiful, edu
cated. accomplished, just as you are;
uo man could have dreamed that a
•lrop of baser blood was hers. What
' '.hat? For a hundred years her
mothers had been slaves; by the cruel,
ni..n-.,,rous law of this state, that con
dition is yours. I may free you: 1 may
yivo yon by will all that 1 have; but
that you were born in bondage and
lived thus, in law, can never l>e de
nied. And I tell you this, I, your fa
ther, for whose grievous sin you are
punished, as it is written in the Scrip
tures."
She understood the shocking truth at
last. a low cry she sank down,
her arms thrown across an ottoman,
her face hidden upon them.
I was instantly by her side.
"Look up, Coralie!" I cried. "Noth
ing shall separate us; be of good
cheer."
She raised her eyes; hope faintly
bhone in them.
"You will despise me, Dorr."
"For what? I have heard nothing
that can change my purpose or weaken
my love."
"But the people who have known
me—"
"They shall know you now as my
honored wife. If there is anything for
you to live down, let me help you do
It."
She rose, reassured, smiling through
her tears. She took my hand and led
me to her father's chair.
"You hear what he has just said,"
were her words. "lie loves me, spite
of everything. I have nothing to give;
because—l am your slave. It-is for you
to say. May I love fifm?" \
The archness, the mock humility
with which slio turned from the dis
tress and reproach in which her fa
ther's words had left her, to this serio
comic aspect of the situation, are not
to be described. Mr. Bostock was com
pletely won. He rose from his chair,
he clasped us both in one embrace,
tears wet his furrowed face.
"At last," he said, with a sigh of in
finite relief, "that dreadful burden is
rolled from my soul. To keep that
secret I have shed blood, I have spent
abundant gold, I have become prema
turely aged, and suffered in inind as
men rarely suffer. Let mo right the
wrong that I did this dear child, so far
as I can, when my passions gave her
life; let me make my peace with an
offended God, if that be possible; let
me see you two happy together—and
then let me depart. C'orry, forgive
your erring, miserable father. I have
sinned, as other men sin; but I have
suffered as they have not."
She answered him with a kiss.
"In the morning," he continued, "Le
Fevre shall ride over to Thibodeaux,
and bring Mr. Coteau, the lawyer. The
ilecd that I have never dared to do, be
cause then the people would know your
story, Corry I v/ill cxeaute. I will de
clare your manumission, in writing,
signed, sealed and acknowledged; it
bhall be placed among the public rec
ords—and then, child, you will be as
free in law as you over have been in
fact. In the nexfr hour my will shall
be made. Everything shall las yours."
We sat upon the ottomans at his
feet—we two—and in the seclusion of
that room we heard from his lips the
story of his errors aud sufferings. The
overseer rapped at the door, and called
out that he must see Mr. Bostock, but
was answered that he could not be dis
turbed. The servant who came to call
us to the table was sent away. Tho
hour was given to the past.
We listened attentively, Coralie and
I, for we were both concerned in tho
strange story, and I especially was
eager to hear the things explained 1 hat
had puzzled me; yet, ever and anon, as
I returned the pressure of the hand,
my heart bounded exultingly forward.
The past was no more a terror; the fu
ture was secure. Cpon none could tho
fair September sun rise so lirlglitly to
morrow as 11 [Kin us two, the darlings
of fate!
So I thought, as I sat there, clasping
her hand and listening to Mr. Bostock'#
confession.
CHAPTER XVII.
lIKICAKINU 'IIIB HKAIJI
I must go back (said Mr. Bostock) to
the time of my marriage. The lady
was a belle of New Orleans beautiful,
but not wealthy. I was then, though
a young man, the richest planter of
the La Fourche. I had a rival. Napo
leon Castex? who was settled in Cuba,
but who often came over to enjoy tho
social festivities of the mild winter# In
New Orleans. Our rivalry was close
and sharp. I was successful, and
gained the man's lasting hatred incon
sequence.
Why is it that men and women will
deliberately marry, when they are by
nature, habit and education, utterly
unfitted to mate together? Such things
always have been and always will be.
Less than three months of wedded life
showed us that we were utterly uncon
genial. But we lived on together, mak
ing the best of it, and enduring our
irksome bonds.
Wo had but one child, Conrad. I will
speak <>f him later. I desire now to
say that, so far as I have been able to
see, he resembled neither of his par
ents In anything. He was bad, reck
less and profligate, from an age when
boys usually have no knowledge of tho
world. I have somewhere read that
hereditary vices, as will 11s diseases,
will sometimes skip several gem-ra
tions, and appear in a child of parents
not given to evil. It must be so; the
accumulated sins of many ancestors
must have been inwrought In that. boy.
I attended one day at the New Or
leans slave-mart an auction of the peo
ple of a Cuban plantation, who had
been sent there to obtain better price
-1 learned upon inquiry that their
owner was < astex, who had become ru
ined by unfortunate speculation. A lit
tle orphan, thirteen years old, appar
ently as white as myself, attracted my
notice. I became her owner and took
her home as u house-servant. She was
called Louise Itunfant.
Time passed; the coldness between
my wife and myself Increased. Let mo
not try to apportion the blame; per
haps there was none. Our mistake
was when we mutually promised to
love, honor and cherish.
But she was better than I; she at
least tried to keep her vows. Cherish
ing no affection for her 1 became care
less of those vows. The pretty nlavc
girl grew up; she was petted and edu
cated; she usurped tin phe of Kmille.
For awhile the latter bore it, silent
and indignant. At length her outraged
"It in better that we part quietly
and without neandal," olic said. "1
lj" nyay lit jhMioUng. Malm. j
a suitable provision for mo and ! will
take tlii- i y and join my people, who
' no t i Paris. Tell what story
you pleas*- about my absence; it will
not Im contradicted."
I was glad enough to malce this- ar
rangement. She went abroad and died
there a few years after.
Her parting" words still ring ia my
ears.
'•I leave you in sorrow, not in an
ger." she said. "The holy church, of
which I am a child, has taught me that
there is nothing more sacred in Heaven
or earth than the marital vows. Von
have broken iliem: you are laying up
wrath for yourself in daystocome. An
offended God will surely call you to
account, nnd you will remember my
words."
Often have I remembered them.
Eniilie hhs been exquisitely avenged!
Conrad accompanied her to New Or
leans, but before the packet sailed lie
returned home. I received him with
surprise and displeasure, for I had felt
immeasurably relieved when F.milie
proposed that he should live with her.
"I've thought the thing all over,
governor," said this boy of fifteen,
"and I concluded to come back. You
see I've nothing- to do with the old
woman's quarrels; and as you've got
the money, and I'm getting on where
I shall want lots of it, I reckon I'll
stick to you."
Within one week from the departure
of my wife —on were bom, Corry, your
mother dying in the same hour.
The love that Fmilic should have
was given to your poor mother, child.
I was nearly distracted at her loss. In
my frenzy it seemed to me the first ful
fillment of Emilie's prediction.
Soon my affections and hopes were
transferred to Louise's child. Then
the crushing thought came that this
child was a slave, born of a slave
mother, aud that to manumit her would
be to publish the fact to the world.
I could not bear the alternative. To
save it, I resolved on a 'course which
good judgment should have warned
me against. I would break up my
home here, lease the plantation, go
four hundred miles up the river, and,
in a locality where no stories would
be likely to come from La Fourche, I
would briag up this child of my affec
tion. No one there should know of
the taint in her origin; no one should
ever guesr. that she was born in bond
age.
This plan I put in exepution immedi
ately. It promised to succeed. Un
fortunately. I had not taken into ac
count the precocity and wickedness of
that boy. 116 instantly divined the
truth, and began to hold the knowl
edge of it over me like a rod. For five
years he kept me in constant terror,
not so much by his evil courses as by
the constant threat of betraying my
secret. The amount of money that I
have paid him for his silence would
represent a fortune. At last, in his
twenty-first year, lie agreed to leave
home and never return, and to keep
his knowledge to himsolf. I was to
pay him a large quarterly allowance,
which has, in fact, been almost dou
bled. I have relied on his love of
money to keep him from betraying
me; and my purse alone has closed his
mouth. Where the great sums that I
have given him have gone, the gam
blers of the river can tell.
I look back to the time between 18-IC,
when I got rid of this unnatural son,
and 1853, when the tragedy occurred
which will be briefly noticed, as the
happiest of my life. The disagreeable
part was all behind me; conscience, as
well as the fear of exposure, so tortur
ing In these later years, did not trouble
me; you were growing tip, C'orry, to bo
just what I wished you; charming ac
quaintances, valued friends were all
about me; my success in growing cot
ton was adding enormonsly to my
wealth. All this was rudely troubled
by the appearance of Napoleon Castex.
1 had heard littln of this man since
my successful rivalry for tlio hand of
Emilie male him my enemy. After
my purchase of Louise I learned inci
dentally that he hail once visited New
Orleans, and it was told me that he
made particular inquiries about me.
There were none but unpleasant recol
lections connected with him, and I
hoped that I should never meet him
again.
Suddenly, twelve years after my re
moval from La Fourche, he presented
himself to me. 1 had 110 previous
knowledge that he was in the neigh
borhood, and tho sight of him discon
certed mo. It was at a gentleman's
dinner party at my own house, and he
came with one of the guests, whom he
was visiting. 1 knew that the man
was revengeful and a good hater, aud I
began to tremble for the consequences
of such a visit. I conjectured that if
he Ir.d not learned the true cause of
Emilie's alienation from me, he would
be likely to guess it if lie happened to
see you, t .'orry; for you were then about
tho age of your mother when he last
saw her, and very closely resembled
her. And what he should discover 1
knew that his hatred of me would
prompt him to spread broadcast in the
neighborhood.
Before 1 could form any plan to
check such a catastrophe, dinner was
announced. Wo wore just seated, when
you, Corry, came to the door and
looked In, prompted, 1 suppose, by
childish curiosity, f'astex saw you,
recognized your face, and asked me in
French If that was my daughter. I re
plied that she was; and then
The man is dead; I must soon follow
him. I would like to speak to him now
without bitterness or passion; yet I
should not speak the whole truth if I
did not say that his face was shining
with savage joy as he gave me the
brutal rejoinder in French that as
sured me that his discovery would be
published far and near. He said:
"Ah, monsieur! Five or six years
hence, when the charming daughter of
Louise Bon fant shall como to the same
auction block in New Orleans where
you purchased tho mother, thou I think
tho spirit of your wronged wife will
feel avenged."
1 haw that he hail deliberately
planned to force a quarrel on me. I
It new that theis could be no safety for
my nee ret while lie lived. A duel fol
lowed, and I killed liliu. The wound
that I received at the name tiiue from
his hand laid me np for week*, and
nearly brought me to the grave.
My misery dates from that hour. it.
in not u comfortable reflection to carry
around with you nlt;lit and day that
you have ttlain a fellow creature,
though a bad one, and tin* thought lian
troubled me; but much more torment
ing than thin w»« the fear that Cantex
had in home way left bin dl*covery to
be revealed lifter hli» death. I grew
Mihpiciou* of everybody; I abandoned
old friend*; while they never nuspect
ed tint reason, I was continually fear
ful that the truth would be known aad
luade public, Then the thought oc
curred to me that all thin torment
might be euded by returning to l,a
1 ourehe I came back to thin place as
suddenly an J hud left it. We had been
absent fifteen yearn, and there had
been many chungcs; Coralie wan every
where presented as my daughter, and
I gave out that Bmillc. her mother, had
died at my plantation far up the river.
Thus, in fear and falsehood, have I
preserved your good name, my child,
and concealed the ntory of your birth.
That concealment ban alwayn been at
the mercy of accident*, and I have
lived In the name ntateof torment since
the duel I'erhap* It l» ull part of my
punishment; fcmilie'n words were pro
phet ic. Yon naw the agitation and the
excitement into which the visit of that
reprobate non threw me. lor the rake
of both of thin falsehood ' all be
told no longer. The truth K painful,
it is humiliating: but that lies
safety fur you. Thank God, the bur
den i>- gone. at last! In the morning
Mr. Coteau shall come ud wake the
Writings.
p.TO BE CONTUItO.]
Konllnj the llarkmn.
BllnV r. All this talk about hack
n;cn overcharging it noawasr. I use
hacks whene\ r I am out with my wifo
uud the drivers n <- r try to get n cent
more than the rojjitlar fare.
Winker?- -How ilo you man ape?
Blinkers— Wry -imply I merely re
mark in a loud tone to my wife that
I'm giad she's pot through her shop
ping at last. After thchackman hears
that he i:- thankful to pet out of me
what 1 actually owe him. —N. Y.
Weeklj.
Why Slio StayeU.
Mr. Gayboy (who is homely, to a
pretty servant girl)—My wife talked
rough to you. but you haven't given
any notice i » quit. Tell me. candidly,
Jennie, is it me that keeps you in this
housd?
Jennie—Yes, it is. Mr. Gavboy. This
is the onlv house I ever was in where
my sweetlaart wa n't joalous of the
boss.—Texas Sittings.
i*rofc«Alon»l Initiurt.
Ilnsban.l (the father of six daugh
ters'—Rosa. there i« a gentle
man in the drawing-room who wants
to marry one of our daughters. He is
a wine merchant.
Wife—A wine merchant? Heaven be
praised! Then he will be sure to select
one of t!.e older brands. —Le Nain
Jaune.
Nothing the .Mutter with It.
Juvenile Customer (at restaurant) —
Paw. this duck is spoiled.
Paw —What is the price marked on
the bill of fare for duck?
"One dollar and fifty cents."
"The duck is all right, t--son. Yon
inusn't object to its gatrn-y Uavor."—
Chicago Tribune.
How Sad!
He was a daring aeronaut.
And liad a tine balloon.
He put hi i wealth all In it.
And hoped to 50 up soon.
The day came—lt was missing.
Ills grief none could rellere.
His wlfo had gone and used It
For the pattern of a sloeve.
-N. V. Record#?.
Xon-Interference.
Robinson—My dear. I don't know
why you should wnrn the cook so fre
quently about lighting the tire with
kerosene. Let her do as she pleases.
Mrs. Robinson— Hut she may blow
J herself Hp.
Robinson—Exactly.—Brooklyn Life.
lii thf Th!rtl Reader.
Teachei —"For men must work and
women must weep." What is the
meaning of that line. Tommy Figg?
Tommy—lt means that men has to
work to get money and then the
women has to cry ln-fore the men will
divide with 'em.— Indianapolis Journal.
Not 111* r»«it.
"I've been riding on the elevated for
five years, and I've never offered a
lady a seat."
"Then you've never had any man
ners."
"That isn't it. I've never yet had a
seat." —Life.
Hcperlor to Any t'oi>erri>«ninn. •
Mr. Jonne. I never believed so
much time could bo wasted in talk till
I read the speeches of those congress
men.
Mr. Smith I'm you never con
versed with Mrs. Smith, did you?— Ch
icago Record.
I nit ructions.
Author—l have a great idea for a
farce-comedy.
Manager—All right; go ahead and
write it. Only leave the idea out. —
Judge.
A Comforting Thought.
Bragg (proudly) I am a self-made
man!
Van Riper—Tliank Heaven, then,
there ain't any more like you!— Truth.
A VEKY WAIsTFI'I. OIKL.
for
'4'n) 111 "
A Wlekml Hon.
Johnny (rushing in excitedly)—
Mother, stick your head out of the
window, quick!
Mother What's the matter, Johnny
—house on lire?
Johnny- No; but I've bet Billy Jonea
a nickel against a quarter that I've got
the ugliest mother on the block. Stick
yer head out of the winder, quick, so
lie can see for himself.—'Texas Hlftings.
Ami Now Stir hornn l Njwik to Vllm.
"Oh, Mr. Lighthead," remarked Miss
Oldgirl, with a simper, "I've just seen
eighteen happy summers to-day."
"Only eighteen happy ones!" replied
lie, with pity in his tone, "what an un
happy life you must have had!"
IVriUtvnt
"What did you say?'' asked Mr.
Testy of his wife.
"I didn't speak."
"Well, what would you have said if
you had spoken?" -Judge.
A Hearer Article.
"I'm willing to take a chance," said
the young man in the betting ring.
"I'crhap l ," suid the old-timer, "butl
; don't believe you'll find any around
here."- Washington Star.
Well.to-110 Philosophy.
"Aren't you rich enough to keep •
carriage and pair?"
"Yes. That's why I'm satisfied witi
a jioriv and cart."--' hieago Tribune.
I.lke Mont.
Wife—My husband Is the queerest
man.
Friend In what respect?
Wife Why, before he married me I
couldn't get him to leave the housf be
fore twelve o'clock, and since I can't
get him to come to it bef.-re tliiit time,
i —Detroit Free I're >*.
A 111 if llarpln.
William Ann Von haven't got a cook
here that, would weigh, say, two hnn
dn-d pounds, have you?
Intelligence Lady Mercy, no! Why
must you have such a big one?
William Ann My wife bought a
forty-eight corset for eight cents, and
she wants a cook she can give it to. —
Fuck.
Ami II" l-»n.
"Rose," said the a<U>rcr, taking his
hat and cane for the seventh time, and
making the third bluff at leaving since
eleven o'clock, "Rose, bid me but hope.
I could wait for you forever."
That's all very well. Mr. Slaylate,"
raid the beautiful girl, coldly, "hut
t you needn't begin to-night."—Chicago
itagurd.
JSIO 53
UUNNING FOR PLANF «, )
A.tr.okl* Caught la Namtwra » t*s
of Photography.
One of the moat remarkable
ct-ct astronomical development* U
result of the application of afca»
tography to the discovery of asterada
or minor planets, says Prof. i. A..
Young, astronomer at Princeton col
lege. :■? - '
By the old methods of search tike
annual rate of discover}- ranged firuo
one to twenty, the average for £
twenty years 187WM, being 10.2.
In ISM twenty-nine were dlacovaaad,
two only by the old method, while W
tween January 1 and April It ef the
pre cnt year twenty-five were pl*lq*&.
up by the two observers. Wolf,
lleidelderg, and Charlois, of Vlca,
who have pressed the camera into
service.
The negatives are made with aa ex
posure of from three to fire hours,
each covering an area two or three de
grees square. . , . .
On the plate the imagea of tfcf atNa
arc round and dear, while any plansf
or planetoids which may be preMßtM
at once recognized by the eloagalE*
of their images due to their orMtat
motion: and three or four of theae oV
loug liphts are sometimes found om a
single plate. 0
If the number of observers uafaaß
this method should be much IncnuM
the number of annual discoveries may
easily mount into the hundred*.
The total number of these little
bodies which oirculate in the space be
tween Mars and Jupiter stands at thrfe*
hundred and seventy-five, so far aaacftr
known, but it is almost oertala UM
those still undiscovered must be
cd by the thousand, and
will soon be hopeless to attempt to
keep the run of them all.
We may reasonably suppoee that all
the larger ones have been already dia»
covered, and that those still remain
ing unrecognized are all nfUamelj
minute.
It is true that from a certain defensi
ble standpoint the atze of a planet hah
nothing to do with Ita astroaomdhl
importance mathematically
ered a planetoid's orbit is W M
worthy of investigation as that of
Jupiter itself, but practically it- ia
plain that the computers wilt hp
obliged to select a limited Uphd
which present special points of Inter
est and confine their attention to them
alone.
MOST WONDERFUL Of PEARLS
The "South*™ Crou," a Gem Wmm»4 ky
a Flfhormaa la WeaUrn Autrtlk.
Black pearls used to be held as of
small value, comparatively speakfcM.
They were first made fashionabfc bf
the Empress Eugenie, wife of Napo
leon 111., who possessed a **""T*
necklace of them which fetched tm 11 lit J
thousand dollars at auction after Kt
overthrow of the imperial
This did not include the sia|tc
pearl forming the snap, which was pur
chased by the marquis of Bath for lea
thousand dollars. Mexlso, Tahiti and
Fiji supply the markets of the werid
with black pearls. The most extraor
dinary pearl in the world, according to
the New York Advertiser, ia known aa
the "Southorn Cross. ' It is probably
the most remarkable thing of It* klad
that nature has ever produced. So far
as is known it occupies an absolutely
unique position in the history of pearls.
It consists of a group of nine pearls
naturally grown together In so regular
a manner as to form an almost perfect
Latin cross. Seven of them compoee
the shaft, which meaaures an inch and
a half in length, while the two arms of
the cross are formed by one peart ea
each side. All the pearls are of la*
luster.
This astonishing freak was discov
ered bv a man named Clark, while
pearl fishing in western Australia, la
regarded it as a miracle, and, rintt*
talning a superstitious dread of it. he
buried it. In 1874 it was dug up eg*la
and since then it has changed haal*
many times. Its value is set at It*
thousand dollars. How It came about
that these pearls were grouped ta
gether in such a manner no one ha* *•
yet been able to explain satisfaetoetfp.
It has been suggested that a frag meat
of serrated seaweed may have get lata
the shell of the oyster and thatfto
succession of teeth Along the marftaw
the front may have caused the depotd*',
tion of nacre at regular intervale, epias
to form a string of pearls in a straight
line. The cross was found in the saul
of the inollusk. just as it was talsSM
from its native element, without Mur
possibilty of its having been subjected
to human manipulation.
Boot* lllaokonad for Notkiaf.
Free shines are to be had in e»CIJ
largo city in the United H takes to-day,
but to got one you must go to the shap
where you bought your shoes. This
idea of blackening the shoes of caa
tomers for nothing was put in opera*
tion live years ago by a firm of H*W
England manufacturers who had
twenty-two agencies in differeat pails
of the country. A bootblack was hired
at each one of these agenda*. At first
the customer went in timidly aqd had
his shoes blacked once after buying
them. When he next bought aho*a%9
hud them blacked a dozen times, and
row there are men who never thtnk of
puylng for a shine. The scheme wa*
copied by a number of manufacturers,
so tliut It is not unusual to find half a
dozen places on a single block Where
blacking la done for nothing. In same
of the larger shops as many as ffva
men are kept busy at this work, bat It
is noticed that they do not labor aa
severely as bootblacks do who are Ilk
business for tliemaelvea. One conesaft
gives to each customer a card with '
numbers to be punched out. The card
la good for fifty shines.
I.on g lias Hhe Reigned.
Queen Victoria has now paaaed the
record of Henry 111., who ruled llljr
slx years and twenty-nine daya, and
has reigned longer than any English
sovereign save George 111., who ruled
from October 88, 1700, to January t»,
182(1. « period of fifty-nine years and
ninety-seven daya; and may aho live to
equal that.
Not Mark of m Foat.
Bertie—Auntie, the car wa* M
crowded I had to stand on one foot au
the whole way from Harlem.
Caddie—Why, that's nothing. Any
goose can do that and never think of
talking . about it.—Harper's Yooaf
People.
ought to reel Tire*.
Madge—l don't believe Mr. Twaddles
knows what it means to feel wt*ry.
Florence—llow unjust!
Madge Why?
Florence -He has to listen to hie own
conversation. —Chicago Inter Oo*aa.
foor Tklnf.
"Jones, your dog barbs so much at
night that I haven't had a quiet a)a*p
for a week."
"Great Scott! Does he bark as
as that? I'm afraid he Isn't walL**w.
Chicago Record.
Mummer llotrl Ajnoaltles*
Hhe (suddenly pervading the pta«mJ
—What, no one here! Where bav* aD
the nice men vanished to?
Ue (bitingly)-Where all tb«
girls have vanished to.—Vogue.
Tba Dictator.
Her Adorer - May I marry yoqy daugh
ter
Her Father (dejectedly) 1
know. Ask the cook; sb* rum the
house. —Brooklyn Life