Indianapolis Journal, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 March 1887 — Page 2

TUB IND1AKAPOMS JOCTRNAIi, SUJXDAV MARCH 0, 1887 TWELVE PAGES.

o

Triiiled by Special Arrangement. Copyrighted, 18S7, ,DARTHULY."

A Story of the Tennessee Mountains. XJY WILLIAM TERUY BROWN. TART I. " The blacksmith's ihop at Iliawasae Gap was a literal cave, half way up the side of a huge cliff. Across the roarinc river, a still higher line of cliffs extend for a mile or so, rising perpendicularly to a dizzy height, until their corrugated brows recede into the gently swelling outlines that usually round out the more southerly summits of the Chilhomes. A narrow road twisted sinuoualy up the sides of the gorge to a kind of basin hollowed out of the overlianging rocks, where, beneath a beetling crag, yawned the smithy, its sides, roof and floor of nature's own carving, while its front was partially boarded with slabs from the little sawmill at the mouth of Greasy creek, three miles above. A small cabin of split logs, "clay daubed," and with a -'stick chimney " also nestled near by, amid a track patch of half an acre, that occu pied all the available space within this veritable "cro'-nest" peering over the precipice, three hun dred feet above the littlo ferry and government itill-house below. A far off glimpse of the broad ridges and meadows of the Tennessee valley could be seen below he gap; while above, a narrow vista of wild, blue mountains, seemingly tumbled one above the other, bounded the view towards the east. A spring bubbled from a cleft in the mountain side, which here burst upward into the vast prec ipice that lowered over the blacksmith's home. Under the hoilrs and oaks thereby was the smith's wife, "batting" clothes upon a block. with a portion of the week's wash sprinkling the bushes around her. Jim Cheek, her husband, a huge, slow-mo tionod, blue-eyed giant, swung himself; slowly up the trail leading from the ferry. He paused to admire his wife's plump figure and brisk, sup ple movements. Wonder had also mingled with his admiration ever since two years ago he -Tiad taken tier iroin tne great notei at v nite Cliff Springs, where, though only a waitress, her airs and traces had impressed themselves upon his primitive imaginings as those of a queen in disguise. A wonder that, with her fresh, dark beauty and vivacious manners, she could have seen anything in him to love and c'ing to. He knew but little of her past, nor had their wedded intimacy added much to his previous knowledge, except that she wa9 from Nashville; that her parents were both dead, and that she alone in the world had drifted from one em ployment to another down to Chattanooga, thence to the town of Athens, and from there to her summer's berth at White Cliff. The blessed sense of relief that comes to a world-tossed femi nine waif, in the hope of realizing a home of her own, had rendered Jim s awkward movements, boviue wit and siraplo ways not only endurable. but attractive to her. Thus it camo about that in transfixing him with wonder at his own sucjess, she had come to share his humble lot with Vne same grace and vivacity that had fascinated oim at the great hotel, whither the mountain 'oik were wort to resort in rumshackie vehicles to dispose of their poultry, butter and eggs. How quickly she had adapted herselt to the narrow, toilsome, isolated existence of the mountain. "She reely talks jest like we'uns," thought Jim. "bbo makes like us in all her belike us, atter all. I wonder if hit's only a make believe, icst ter please mo and that thar young'unT' "That tb:ir roune 'un," the visible result of their union, was a blue eyed, brown-haired baby, scarce thirteen months old, that now lay asleep upon its blankf-ts under a holly bush, while its mother sang to the resoundine accompaniment of her paddle in a manner confirmative of Jim's reflectione: "home folks say the mergers won t steal, . Hut I kctched seven in my corn-tiel'; Run, nigger, rr.nl l'atterol kotch you; Run. tik'efr. run! 4 fit' almos' Jar." "Durn me. how she can sing," n&M ho to !tim self, as leaned across the top rail of the fonce watching her. Glancing tip from her work she paw him there, and, in her impulsive way, dropped ner pauaie ana was at nu bide in a moment. ''Now yon'n at it again," said she, "you great big mountain of laziness. You've jest got to be punished right here." X tie nature ot me punishment oeuod the so verity of her words, and consisted in seizing his . ears, pulline Ins big head down to a lwvel with her own, and planting a soundine eniack upon Jim s elephantine lipe. "Who wen id ut be a loau-nn in seen company?'' remarked the proud husband, smacking his lips like a boy over his candy. "But I'm lest pestered aoout yo, uarinuiy. e nevtr take no time to r-st, onct ye git started ter work. Pears like ye wuz afeerd ter spell yer seX" 'Listen at thi3 yer man,' she replied playfully, TPt with a Rf-rioA croon of hfr arro h art v Ain i ye an ays a nammerin an a olowin in that thar shop, and shouldn't I do mv part as well! IJoely. Jim, I'm a master sight better off ter be busy, and there' a man and horse right now at the shop door a waitin' fur ye, and here ye niracourUn un es ushel." "Hits the new cnusrer es coined last night ter the tttul-hosi.-tj. Ho wants a new shoe on his , critters oft forefoot. Don t ye hurt vourselfa wornin, honey, jss bekasa yo can."' with this chronic injunction on his lips, Jim hastened to the shop. Darthuly looked after him a moment, then suffered her gaze to wander down to the brawling river below, and upward along the opposite cliff, until her eyes rested absently upon the swelling summits of the mountains. The sun shimmered upon tho dis tant pines sharply outlined acainst tho sky above her, while the wind, whistling down the gap from thos? aerial heights, toyed with her tumbled curls as its monotonous sough mingled with the roar of the waters below. The white steam from tho still-house whirled upward into invisibility acainst the gren back ground or. spruco and fir clinging to the cliffs. The tinkle of a cow bell floated down from un seen heights above; a large hawk hunsr lazily in mid-air over tho wildest crairs. Surely, beneath the wind and the liver's roar there was a lethean glamour in tha air. harmonizing tho savagery of nature with the peaceful influences of the hour. Was its charm working upon her mind as she leaned upon the fence, oblivious of her task; or had she really giver, heed to Jim's admonition "to ha keerfui" and rest The sprightly decision of her faco had given wav to an expression of gentle and regretful sadness. Once or twice 6ho sighed, theu her thoughts seemed to find a disconnected utterance. "So good, so true, so watchful of ray comfort! Whv cannot I love him as hedoe3 me!" The mountain dialect had disappeared from tyer lips. Its absence seemed to render her conscious of the incongruity, for in her next murmur it was resumed. "lie's just as lionet and as open a3 daylight, while I I have orMeece 1 to be just tho other way." Then, as her feelings again grew more intense, she once more became natural. "God knows I don't want to bn false, yet what will not a poor woman do for a home, and shelter and tove. He has given me all these, but what iave I eiven him in return." There was a softcrushingof gravel behind her. She turned suddenly. A medium-sized, slender, young man, having crisp, brown hair, a tawny mustache and keen, grey eyes stood befere her. As they saw each other, his carelessly polite salutation was merged in a glare of surprise, and an after smile of exultant pleasure. With a quick exclamation, she covered her face with one hand and extended the other as though to ward Off his approach. Well, Meg," ce said in a low, calculative tone, "you're about the luet person I expected to meet here." A'3 he eyed her the relentless composure of his smile seemed cruel in its contrast to the agitation she exhibited, as she finally gasped. "Well, yes I'm here, and devilish surprised to 'un up with you, Meg. Hut what's your gam

now! Trving the virtuous dodge, ehi Making

this susceptible elephant of a blacksmith your victim, I suppose." Sne raised her faee and confronted mm with blazing eyes at this inuendo. "No thanks to you, Dick Bufford. Think how you have served ine me! Think what I have endured because I was once weak enough to trust you." As this confession slipped from her lips, they trembled under its influence, despite the revul sive anger with which his presence inspired her. T: " , . - , : 1.1. t.: ins eye never leu ner iaco as, piaying wnu m watch-chain, he replied: "How many had shared your love oerore i came along? There, there. Don't get excited. You couldn't holp getting jealous, and when I left yon in Atlanta, I never thought we'd turn up together again on this footstool. You wouldn't let me so much as wink without a quarrel, and l finally soured on it." "Why are you here?1 She demanded this in a quick, peremptory tone, flashing a glance toward the smithy, then fixing her eyes ou his handsome, imperturbable face. "I'm gauging for tha government Am to be here for a week. Mav stay longer, now I've 6een you. Blame me, Meg, but mountain life agrees with you! You're prettier than ever. In an easy yet imperative way, wnicn sne seemed powerless to oppose, he took her dimpied chin between thumb and finger, and looked at her with a kmaling light in his eyes, tnen released her. saying: "I was a fool to run away from you, Meg, my girl. I'll have better sense this time." The cry of an infant came to their ears from the hollv-bush bv the spring. The wretched mother, rored from the spell which his manner and words osd thrown over her. in spite of the reproaches she cast upon him. darted back a step vith averted face, crying wildly. Go away from here, Dick Bufford. l am a wife and a mother. My husband works in yon der shop. You have my reputation in your power, but I say beware ho.w you handle it. I'm a desperate woman. Dick. I bis is my nome and shelter. You left me none when you forsook me three vears ago. Oh, Dick! For God's sake spare mo for for the sake of my husband and child, if not for your own sake or mine! 1 he passionate anger with which she began melted into piteous appeal as she started to wards her child. He seizod her hand, wnereat she stopped as though an electric shock had per vaded her system, while he said: "D n it, Moc! I glory in your spunk. Carry it out to suit yourself, and don't fear me, I'll never peach. I was a fool ever to leave you, and 1 m your friend now. Blame me! but you re the pluckist woman in tho State, and Dick Bufford is your Blave." Jlavine thus delivered himself he let her go, and strolled back towards the shop, smiling and soluoquizing: "Meg in the respectable line! bhe carries it well, considering it's her first attempt. D me, but 6he's a thoroughbred! She must have been hard pushed, though, to saddle herself with this thick pated son of Vulcan for a a hue baud, didn't she sav? Fancy Meg with a hus band! And now there's a squalling brat to com plicate matters. Poor thing. She's been in the work so lonsr 6he s got used to this state of affairs and thinks 111 interfere. Maybe I will. Meg, my girl, I begin to Fee that you're the woman for me after all. But you won't fear me when I do interfere. Oh, no; I know you too well." He entered the shop, chattered easily with honest, unsuspect Jim until his horse was ready, then mounting, rode down the monntatn side, humming the thread-bare air of "Sweet Vio lets." Darthulv Cheek grasped her cryiug bady with a fierce nervousness of manner, and sat sooth iug it mechanicallv. Throueh her mind forbid den thoughts and impulses, long dormant, were rising tumultously over the contented apathy of feeling that, since her marriage, had supern cially reigned within a heart by nature, fervid jealous, imoulsive, and now, alas! rebellious against the renunciative iaith wherein the purity of womanhood so of ten . finds refuse against passion and desire. Her only audible exclamation was: "God held me. I cannot help myself." . PART II. For the next few davs the course of events ran smoothly on the surtace. Uick Jiunord with louquacious urbanity, soon made himself a general favorite. At the still house a knot of admirers usually crathered round him at leisure hours, while many of his off-hand sayings be came as current conversational com to be flipped from tongue to tongue, accompanied by a slow horpe play of bncolic wit and lauchter. Bije Te-eters. the proprietor of tho still-house "'lowed that Dick Bufford had more sense in th holler side of his noddle than all the balance of Uncle Sam's gaugers rolled inter one. He' intedly got sense enuff to let whisky alone Just a dram now and then, nothin' more, and bar'ls of hit a settin round. Oh, has a master man" The fact that a man could be a ganger and not a drunkard presented to Mr. Teeters s imag Inntion the juxtaposition of qualities humanly recognizable only on the score oj superlative anilities. Jim Cheek was so carried away bv Dick's transcendant cleverness, that, when the latter in a careless way, suggested boarding with him during the brief time his official duties rendered his stay imperative, our honest blacksmith assented at once. "Don't you brine him here," said Darthulv to her husband that night, when ho announced that Bufford would bring his traps up "terruoi rer." Jim gazed at his wife in mild-eyed astonishment, and noticed that she looked pale and worried. "Thar now, Darthuly, ye do look pestered, but hit won't be for more nor a week. Money's money, these yer hard times, and I'll help ye wheu I can get outen the shop." "Don't ye bring him here," she said, pleadingly, placing, her hands on his shoulders and looking earnestly at him. He totally failed to comprehend the nature of her disapproval, and said, mildly: "Hit's already atrreed on. I can't very well back down now. But I don't see why ye should be so pestered about it, Darthuly." She withdrew her hands, and her great, dark eyes blazed petulantly as she replied: "Ef that thar feller comes here, Jim Cheek, and anything wrong comes of it- 'member, I've warned ye." She withdrew abruptly to the kitchen, leaving Jim to look after her regretfully, as he scratched his head and acknowledged to himself that "women were powerful cnr'ouju- A man can't jist never tell which side of the fence they're a-eoin' ter lean agin." Bufford soon made himself quite as much at home there as he bad elsewhere. Darthuly avoided him, seldom speaking to him, except when necessary; a state of things which he ignored by treating her with systematic deference and politeness. This became grateful to her in its very contrast to the boorish absence of courtesy prevalent among the mountaineers. Even Jim, with tho kindest of hearts, had fow of the minor urbanities of manner that so smooth social intercourse under unfavorable circumstances. He was loving and true, yet he never handed her a chair, or offered to get water, or deferred gracefully to her varied whims, as Bufford constantly 'did, regardless of h(r cold indifference or studied iznoring of his civilties. "Why, Darthuly," said Jim, one day, when they two were alone, "I reely can't see" what ye mean by snubbin the gaugerso. like vou're allays adoin'." Her only reply was to raise to his her wonderTal eyes, their clear depths troubled by a sadness not habitual to them. As he looked a slight biush appeared on her cheek and she withdrew her gaze, but said nothing. Indeed she moved, as she herself felt, like one in a dream, dreading to awake, yet palsied by the helplessness that was upon her. Dick petted tho spoiled baby, allowing it to pull his hair and slobber over him with a jovial placidity, that caused Mrs. Check to eye him furtively when she was not observed. He said no mere to her of their mysterious past, and she felt grateful for his forbearance. Yet, one morning, while Jim was clinking away at tho shop, as he sat playing with the child, he looked up suddenly and detected her watching him intently. "Ah. Meg, Meg," he said, in a new and tender tone, "to think of you with a baby like this gets away w ith me " "Not that name here!" cried she, cowering as though hi3 words had been blows. "I cannot endure it. Lei it be dead forever." In her earnestness she dropped her mountain dialect, even while mindful "of the danger attached to the mention of her former name. Beaching up quickly he took her hand, saviner: "Do you wish me to b8 as one dead, too, Meg --l'arinuiy, i meant His voice rang with the old-time fervor, and his gazo seemod to scorch her avertod eyes like

the heat of an unseen flame. A.h, Jim, why are you not here, to pluck the image of outraged

wife and motherhood irom tne cnasm over wnicn it hovers? She straggled to release her hand, more faintly, however, as his graso strengthened. Then, as he resistlessly drew her towards him, their eyes met, and with a shuddering sigh she fell on her knees, with her head upon his shoulder. He realized his power and mercilessly used it; but at the first touch of his hot lips upon her own, 6he sprung irom mm, piucked ner paoy from his lap, rushed into the house, shut the door and locked it. He sat for awhile gazing at the opposite cliff, rowning in silent disapproval unconscious of their meaning and indifferent to their eternal cairn, rnen ne got up, stroued passed the snop, and on down to the still-house, humming softly to himself: "1 11 await my love, I'll await my love, etc PART III. A week passed. In a day or two more Bufford was to leave. The great hotel at White Cliff had opened for the season. Jim Uheek started ror there one sunny day with a load of eggs, butter and "gyarden truck." Darthuly complained of headache and would not go. An anxious troubled look haunted her face. Outwardly she seemed to avoid Dick more than ever, and would follow Jim's motions with her eyes in silence, being so utterly unlike herself that the blacksmith again wondered helplessly over the mysteries of feminine development. "She's all ays been a gabbin' and takin' on so much that I can't see wher hits all gone to," he hinted confidentially to Bufford. who ventured the vague opinion that "she would come round after while, like they all do." Jim loaded up and set out His steers were half wav down the road to the ferry, when Darthuly came running after him, with the baby in her arms. She caught his hand and ex claimed: 'Take us along, Jim. I can't bear ter see yer a leavin' thi3 mornin', somehow." "Why, how's thish yer, Darthuly? Jest a bit ago you didn't keer ter go. Bein' es you've got that pesky headache, I reckon you'd better stav. Teeter's gal is a goin' ter stay ternight, and Mr. Bufford 11 be thar ter keep the buggers off, and I shall sartinly git back termorrer. Why, honey whv durn me, ef I can onderstand women ennyhow." She was sobbing upon his arm, bnt would give no reason for this strange behavior, and Jim, after some hurried cogitation, concluded that she was "a gittin' a little teched in the head" a vague complaint, embraciog pretty much every phase of emotional disturbance peculiar to females. "Thar now, Darthuly. You git right back ter the house and lay down awhile. Git Jane Teeters ter he'p ye cook, and let that thar washin' alone ontwell I gits back." Thus soothing and petting her, yet puzzled in mind, though utterly unsuspicious of the real cause of her agitation, he finally got away, leaving her standing on a projecting rock, gazing with tear-blinded eyes after him. "Be back to-day?'' queried Bufford from the still-house door, as he passed. "Reckon not The steers caint hardly make hit in a day." He crossed th3 river on the flat, and as his waeron disappeared round a bold bead on the cliffs, he, following behind, looked back. His wife still stood upon the rock, her baby playing at her feet, and her bricht calico dress fluttering in the breeze blowing down sweet and cool from the mountains. The memory of that fair vision was all that re mainod to him of her except the child for eisht long years. He returned on the following day to a ruined and deserted home. Dick Bufford and Darthuly had disappeared. There was a motherless babe crying npon the bed a scrap of paper left upon the table, telling him he had no wife, that she was cone with another, that she was sorry, but could not help it, that he must regard her as one dead, taat he would care for the child, for its own sake if not for hersi whose heart was de servedly bre.tkine, that her past life had been impure, thst she had deceived him, yet had be lieved she loved him, until the tempter came clothed with tho power and glamour of a former triumph over her youthful trust and love, to lure her back to sin and ruin. ' When he arose at Last crushed,1 miserable, yet durably patient, he threw the wretch apology into the fire, and. gathering his babe in Disarms, soothed it through the night, while fisfhtine off. by grim endurance, his own pain until morning came again. Silently he endured the flow of neighborly comment and consolation, and quietly he went about his double duties with a stoicism apparently untouched by tenderness, except wheu alone with his child. He never inquired after or searched for the guilty couple, nor were their names ever mentioned by him. Tho past, as far as she was associated with it in his memory, was dead. His great struggle with himself for months was to make his sorrow ami his shame subserve tne welfare of his child, until the pure indifference boru of duty done should reward his lacerated heart with a lasting peace. PART IV, ' How weary are the years of enforced resignation and suppressed dusire, that spau the arid plaes between the few real oases of our lives. Thoso scant, brief periods of fulfillment, when heart and soul revel in the joy of earthly fruition, come to many like drops of water upon a tongue parched by an uuquenchable. thirst. Yet it is the self-denials of our lives that chiefly render our place in the world endurable to others. Tho sun did not cease to shine because of Jim Cheek s miction. As soon as he realized that the earth remained unchanged the isolation of his own change inspired himto wotk and toil on and give no sign. So the seasons came and went, and as his little girl grew his heart expanded. She had been called Darthuly Ann. Jim quietly dropped the former name, and in time little Ann Cheek became known all round Iliawassee Gap as "jist the sweetest and purtiest young 'un in the settlement" She had roenish brown eyes and brown hair, with an added tinse of gold, as thouah tho last faint flush of a dying sunset had found refuge there. The clink, clink of the blacksmith's hammer rose over the roar of tho river winter and summer. People crossing the ferry at night, the light of hi"? cabin fire, far up the obscure mounttain wall, flashing down upon them like the twinkle of an inaccessible star. The inscrutable frown of the cliffs lowered over them, clad, as of old, in the ever-alternating garb of the seasons. The child developed like the unfolding of a double rose, and Jim found the many quirks and oddities of the juvenile mind a nei'er failing source of wonder. Though his understanding was limited, his faith in the feminine capacity for surprise was unbounded. Little Ann's brisk, vivacious prattle and cunningly unique ways became to him the most deliciously incomprehensible muddlo in the world. At ten years of age she had assumed such charge of his ungainly person and simple habits that, in his own mind, he hardly knew where his awn obedience bepan or her playfully precocious authority ended; There was such an harmonious reversal of their mental relations toward each other that Jim often averred that: "Ef that thar young un didn't shoe the hosso3 and pint the plows hit weren't becase the couldn't or dasen't." lhe vulgar associations connected with tne still-house shrank from her approach, as the foul exhalations of a dunceon yield to the puro influx of the outer air. As years advanced Jim himself became charier of their evil influence, feeling instinctively the unsullied guardianship of his child hovering around him. In summer time when he went to the railroad towns, or to the great hotel at White Cliff, with butter, eggs, and garden-truck, she ilwavs ac companied him. A sultry day in August found them at the latter place. Having disposed of their produce, Jim was talking to a group ot spcr.tsmcn. who desired guide to some hunting grounds in the Tellico mountains, when a waiter called him to one side and said that a lady guest of the hotel wished to see him. "Whar'a little Ann?" quoth Jim, not seeing his child around. "She's with the lady, sah," said the waiter. i .T , , - . . r ... , - ijas upor lib lue xur euu ot inis loner mazza. Bettah hurry, sah. Lady powful anxshus to see you." "Wants ter see me bad, does she?" muttered Jim, slouching aong towards the door in ques tion. "Tain 6 oaen that these yer biff folks gits in that way about Jim Cheek. I bev erbleeged ter think she'll find she's barkin' up tua wrong tree, alter ait' The door stood open. Jim cleared hi$ throat,

pulled off his ragged hat and entered the room, "Yer I be, ma'am. "What kln'I do fer you?" He paused, open-mouthed, for, seated on a sofa in the richly-famished room, was a fashionably-dressed lady with her arms around Ann his little Ann in an atitnde of undisguised emotion and endearment, to which the child Submitted with evident wonder and reluctance. She now broke loose from the woman and ran to Jim. exclaiming: "Pap; oh, pap! She called me in, and she says she knows we 'uns. She says she's my mammy; but I jest know she ain't, for 1 ain't got nary mammy, have I pap?" .The lady ro3e hurriedly. In Jier manner embarrassment and wistful eagerness strongly contended. Her dark, splendid, mature beauty shone out from the quiet elegance of her attire, like a ruby above its golden setting. Jewels sparkled on her fingers, and her dress was of Parisian origin. From beneath a hat that was

a tropny or the milliner s art, ncn tresses or wavy black hair escaped in that charmingly disordered profusion which is now the type of the highest art Jim dropped his hat and stood the embodi ment of awkward stupefaction, with little Ann clinging to his legs, and looking round at the strange lady, who, quickly recovering herself, passed behind thom and closed the door. Jim picked up hi3 hat. 'I hen the lady placed ona hand on Jim s rag ged shoulder, as he rubbed his head helplessly, and gazed upon his weather-beaten features long and earnestly. ' "Jim." Her voice had the clear, wonderful riug, as of old, to which was added that perfection of accent which social polish gives. "Jim Cheek, do 5Tou know mer With a great effort Jim again brought bis eye3 to bear upon this vision of beauty. As compre hension began to dawn upon his slow moving in tellect his gaze grew steadier, but there was no answering tenderness or eager acknowledgment foreshadowed therein. "Don't you remember me, Jim Cheek?" "Wal, I reckon I do now. You air tho women es runn'd off with Dick Bufford." She cowered for an instant, and removed her hand from his shoulder. He mechanically brushed the spot, while hi3 face gradually hardened. The splendor of her appearance was that of too different a world from his own to enthrall him now. "He is dead," she murmured, then, clasping her hands, she exclaimed passionately, "Oh Jim. I want my child, my only child!" "Your child? Wal, I reckon you don't mean thish yer littie gal, fur ef yon do, you air a laborin' under of a small mistake. Shejain't your child now, whatever she raout hev been onct." Little Ann, having possessed herself of one of Jim's hands, looked from one to the other in childish bewilderment. She was barefooted yet neatly clad in striped linsey, with lone, tumbled hair falling upon her shoulders. The lady's face flushed, then grew slowly pale, as she realized that all her beauty and luxury made no impression upon the man she had once deserted. "Jim." she again began, "I don't defend myself. My life was all wrong, even before I met you, and I deceived and wroneed you most of all. But I didn't know myself: I couldn't help doing as I did. He made me do it. He ruled me. But, oh! how I have repented, even before his death. Amidst his wealth for we went to Colorado, and he made money there I became wretched. My heart went back to my child my only child." "I know'd after what happened I know'd in reason ye coul'nt her keered much for me. I all'away wondered how ye come to keer fur me at all, for I ain't much to keer fur nohow. But little Ann she's defer'nt, of course." Jim allowed his fingers to closa over the child's small hands fondly, then he resumed: "She keers fur me; don't ye', honey? But I'm a-fearin'she cain't, under the pecoolyer sarcumstances, partiklerly keer fur both on us to onct like." Here Jim straightened himself, and looked full at his former wife unflinchingly. Could she, now standing beforo him, clad, as it were, in purple and fine linen, with a delicate perfume exhaling from her presence over his unaccustomed senses could she be his faithless Darthuly? Ho knew it must be so, yet the realization seemed impersonal and vague. ."At first I didn't caro much for you," she said. "I wanted shelterand a homo so badly. My life had been a hard one. But your love and kindness soon made me care for yon. If he had not come back all would have been well. But he lie I " She blushed and hesitated under the stringency of her seli-irapelled confession. lie had met and deceived me before you knew me. I cannot explain, but somehow I could not resist his power. But I have repented indeed I have repented!" She hid her face in her hands, while little Ann shrank from the vehemence of the strange lady's actions and words. Jim's eye3 wandered from her dress and jewelry to the big Saratoga trunks against the wall, and around tho luxurious appointments of the room. "Does these yer hxins, ne asked, bluntly, and all vour fine dressin' and ways and stch come of Dick Bufford's money what he left ye?" She appeared not to hear him, but, as he re peated the question, her hands fell and a look of confusion appeared on her face. "People are obliged to have money m this world," she replied almost doggedly. We uns yer in the mountains gits along on powerful leetle," said he. "But air ye a usin' of his money now?" les. Jim, I am. He has gone whero he'll never need money again "If he aint in hell ho ought er be!' interrupted he emphatically. And was you a goin' ter tempt me and Ann with some of the cussed stuff too," Facing him there, she felt that all the power and pleasure her wealth had invoked to apppas6 the deep longings of her heart towards her hus band and child were rising as a curse to still further separate her from her desire. Had she not dreamed fondly of how this money would re lieve their wants, expand and minister to their crude enjoyment? Had she not planned how . in a new land un haunted by the past this same money should gild the path of forgiveness and forgetful ness with ease and pleasure, until conscience slumbered, love renewed itself, and retribution was forgotten? Yet here was Jim poor, simple, honest Jimrepulsing the golden bribe, which she had felt ought to bridge the chasm of f.hame, yawning between their honorable poverty and her own repugnant splendor.There is nothing so inaccessible as virtue under certain contingencies. Clothe it in rags, pinch it with penury, grind it beneath a wordly scorn, yet its hollow eyes and wasted features illumine the vale of humility like diamonds in the mire, gleaming unsullied from out the filth of their surroundings upon the spurious glitter, that envies, through all its falso exaltation, tho purity no tongue can smirch and from which it Btands forever barred. She did not reply at once. Jim, totally unawed as yet, hitched at his "galluses," and went through sundry awkward movements for no apparent causo whatever. "Who is she, pap?" whispered Ann, who had interposed Jim's body between herself and the object of her curiosity. "Wal, honey." said Jim, slightly embarrassed by the directness of the inquiry. "This yer lady is she wal, hit seems like she was onct" "Child, I am your mother your own, only mother, as I told you before," exclaimed the woman. Then with sudden abandon she clasped little Ann's face between her hands and kissed her once, twice, thrice. The child shrt.nk back frightened, while Jim cooly interposed his own bulk between them, saying: "Thar, now; thar. Anu's ways and mine air turrible defer'nt from your'n now, and we mout es well git outen yer. You hev got your money, and little Ann and ma hev concluded that we jist p'intedly don't want any smidgeon on it." "But Jim, Jim, think what money can da I want your love. I want my child's love. I don't deserve it, but my heart yearns for you both. And and 1 can make your hard lives so easy and pleasant now. It is all yours " "That thar'll do now." It is noticeable that while she cailed him Jim repeatedly, he never mentioned her naraer "We're purty poor, me and Ann, but we're honest, and we hev got a little mite of pride left yet Ye needn't loom off any more on that subjeck, I reckon. Ye did your level best ter bodashusly ruin both on us, but the good Lord ho'pod us to git through somehow. We'nns hain't got nary grudge agin ye, yet we p'intedly cain't take up with your prcjeck." A momentary silence ensued, while the man and woman surveyed each other. In the longsuffering blacksmith's eyes the wife read co answering tenderness to the seducvive appeal that glistened in her own. Then gradually came the conviction that all these years of neglect had quenched forever the old love and hardened patience into indifference. His daughter thoir daughter now monopolized the place in his

affections which she bad thrown away, and to that daughter, for whose love she now yearned, she must remain a 6traoger. Her fatal beauty, her ill-gotten wealth, her accomplishments, her position all spurious, treacherous the seductive glitter of "a living lie recoiled from the honesty of their simple poverty. The very innocence of their ignoiance protected them. As she realized the futility of her efforts her heart sank within her. The longing that had brought her two thousand mile3 to repair the past was merged in a greater pam than any that had yet come to her. But the pride she had long nursed came to her assistance now. She resolved to show her weakness no more, where humility invoked only reproach. Her gaze grew cold and collected, and she withdrew a step as she said, indifferently: "Well, sir! you doubtless know what is best for yourself and our child. I feel that I have no right to insist on anything that is repugnant to you. Believe one thing, though; it was not for myself alone that I have offered you wealth and ease, but," her lip would quiver though she bit it fiercely, "it was to make amends to yon for the sake of her." She pointed to little Ann. Jim became embarrassed, though he knew not why. While he stood fumbling at his hat, the lady, wilh a sudden movement, kissed the child, and as Jim was about to speak, said hurriedly, "Say no more. I cannot bear it. Leave me. If you are ever in trouble and need money for her here is an address where you can always obtain it while I have it. Go now, please."

She pointed rather imperiously towards the door. Jim hesitated, cleared his throat, spit recklessly on the carpet then took Ann s hand, saying: "Less go, honey. She air right Hit air the best all round, I reckon." Then to his wife: "Don t think as I ain t pestered about ye, or that we 'uns wishes you any harm. But I jist cam t hope doin what I believeter be right 1 jist cain't hops it. Good-bve, ffrlrthuly." It was the first time he had called her by name. She almost broke down, and motioned for them to go, which they did, Jim leading lit tle Ann, who stnl looked back uncomprehendinely. As the door cloed behind them, the wretched wife and mother stood, like one in a trance, until the shambling echo of their footsteps had ceased to sound along the piazza; then, with a long, tremulous moan, she sank to the floor and buried her face in her arms upon the sofa. There were no sobs, no tears only low moaus that finally subsided into silence. In an hour came the summons to dinner. She rose, dressed herself with caro, and glided into the great dining hall, a vision of cold, superb and indifferent loveliness. By the next afternoon the "rich Colorado widow"' was gone. Some said back to Pueblo, others to the White Snlpher Springs, others to this place or that No one seemed to know, and soon no one cared. Meanwhile Jim trudged on home beside his steers, with little Ann coiled up in the hay at the bottom of the wagon. "Pan," said she, after an hour or so of silence, "pap, who is that thar fine lady? I jist know I haven t got nary mother, bev I, pap?" Jim flicked his goad gently over the nigh steer 8 horns before he replied, reflectively: " w ai, no, i reely cant pintedly iest say as you hev, honey and yet" Jim hesitated, and Ann again asked: "Wal, pap. who is she, atter all?" "Durned if I can tell ye, child." And he never did. The Fire. Spirit ot flame! tho senses thrill, According to thy warmth or will; According to the soul's desive, yOr gen'rous hafida that heap thee higher. In glowing coals we see the shine Of mem'ries golden stars divine. While unseen censers fill tha room, Soft swaying in the twilight gloom. From pearl to opal amethyst. The ever-changing flames our tryst Of lovo we keep beside the Ore. While ar.gcls sweep the sounding lyre. Whose tones through corridors of Time Like bells of Heaven softly chime, And here, from far-off life-tide ways, To dwell with us from other days. Dear forms, dear faces, shining eyes, Are brought us back from Paradise; Tho soul hath found its best desire, A musing by the twilight Ere. E. S. L. Thonipsoa. Two Sinners. There was a man. it was said one time. Who went astray iu his youthful prime. Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet, When the blood is a river that's running riot? And boys will be boys, the old folks say, And a man's the better who's had his day. The sinner reformed, and the preacher told Of the prodigal son who came back to the fold, And Christian people threw open the door Vith a warmer welcome than ever before. Wealth and honor were his to command And a spotless woman gave hira her hand. And the world strewed their pathway with flowers a-oiooni. Crying, "God bless lady and God bless groom!" There was a cim Jon went astray, In the golden dawn of her life's youne day; She had more passion and heart than head. And she followed blindly where foud love lod, And love unchecked is a dangorous guido To wander at will by a fair girl's side. Tho woman repented and turned from sin, But no door opened to let her in; The preacher prayed that she might be forgiven, But told her to look for mercy in heaven. I'or this is the law of the earth, wo know. That tho woman !s scorned, while tha tuau may go, A brave man wedded her, after all. But the world said, frowning. "We shall not call." -LUa lit-e lot Wiicox. Through Darkness. One nteht tho Anei Gabriel, Seatod in Paradise apart, Heard the low, loving voice of God In answer to a human heart. "Eminent must this servant be Who to the Most High is so nigh; Whose spirit, dead to lust below, Already is with Him on high." lie hastened over land and sei To find this mau he went like light, But found him not in earth -r heaven, Through all the watches of the night "O Lord! direct me to this man That is so near and dear to Thee." "The mau Thou speakest of, Gabriel, Thou shalt in yon pagoda see." Straightway to the pngoda sped The Instructed One, and locking there, Behold before an idol grim ' 1 A solitary man at prayer. "Canst thou regard this man. oh Lord, Who to an idol prays, not Thcol" T have forgot his ignoranco Since he through darkness has found Me." It. II. Stoddard, in New York Independent. To Philip Bourke Marstou. Thy life's lone Stygian night At last. With all its ills, has past; And now this blessed light Of God's eternal love Doth welcome thee above. ' ' And sudden is the change, And strange For us. who late did mourn Thy lot on earth forlorn; Thou art happy now, and we Are blind compared with thee. Ed tu u ud Ularence Stedman. The Fashions of the Table. San Francisco ( bronic'.e. , A man of sense does not waste his time fuss ing around to find out what the latest fad v il be in eating. A man knows what a big knife is for, and a little knife, but he doe3 not need to be ashamed of not being acquainted with the little erratic fads which are being constantly introduced for fashion or effect It used to bo vulgar to serve a lot of vegetables all at one time. It then became vulgar not to do it It used to be fashionable to pile your plate with a mixture of eatables; then it became tho worst of taste. There is only one absolute rule of eating and drinking that all people need to observe cleanliness and the little extra kinks of fashion amount to nothing, and are not worth amn'a while to follow and study. Good breeding consists as much in arranging things for the comfort of your guests as it does in knowing how to eat your dinner in a simple aud cleanly way.

: . r ; mwnm HUMOR OP THE DAT, Poetry vs. Fact. I. "I love roy lovo In tho morning, For she like morn is fair." Er that is to say, If you keep away ' Till after she's crimped her hal II. "I love my love in the morning, . I love my love at noon," IJutifc malces roe sad To see her pet mad When I get home to dinner too eoj in. "I love my love in the morning, I love my lore In the eve," But if she should snore Just a little bit more I thick I should have to leave. Somerville Jjurnat. A Vested Right.

Louisville Commercial. The interstate-commerce law must go. II threatens to interfere with the God-given jour nalistio right of striking a railroad for a frert . pass. Not Hani to Find. Lishtbead, to Miss Brown Girls nowadays don'S know how to do anything. When I find one that can cook, and wash, and make beds, and sew on buttons I intend to get married. Miss Brown Why not go to an intelligence office? Diagram in Next Issue. New York Graphic. A lady of Passaic county, New Jersey, gave birth to a quartet of babes on Washington birthday; but it is quite possible, notwithstanding the general rejoicings, that she hasn't got over the little hatch yet Some Men Don't Want the Earth. Somerville (Ga.) Journal. Angry Customer Sav, see here, Mr. Scales, I found a whole lot of sand in that last barrel of sugar you sent me. Placid Grocer Did yon, mdeedf Dear mel And what did you expect to find? Gold quartz? Been There Before. Philadelphia American. "And do you doubt my love?" he asked, pW sionately. " "No, George," she answered with admirable poise, "out when you say mat tne aay you can me yours will usher in an era of lifelong devo tion and tender solicitude, you pardon me, dear you put it on a trifle too thick. You seem to forget, George, that I am a widow." Eloquence In Chicago. Cbicaeo Herald. A North-side minister was preaching on "The Immortality of the Soul." When be reached the climax of his sermon he stepped to the front of the platform, and, leveling his right index finger at the congregation, said: "Vou may lose your wives and got others: you may lose your husbands and get others; you may lose your horses and carriages and get others, but when you lose your soul it's good-by, John." Easily Explained. Texas 8iftiners. Customer 1 must say I don t like this milk. Milkman Why, what's the matter with it! "Just look at it. Don't you see that it I blue?'' "Well, yes; it is a little darker than usual. " "What is the cause of it?" "I think I can explain it" "I'd be glad to hear it" "You see, we weaced the calf a few days ftgft. and probably the old cow feels a little blue about it That's the only way I can account for it.'"'A "Hectic" Flush. Minneapolis Tribune. "bav, where's de sportin editor asked a loud ly-dressed young man, as he poked his head into ' the room occupied by the night editor. "I wants him to decide a bet between me and George Hathaway. You see, it come about die wayi 1 don't know nothing about books, and dis man nathaway reads something about a man havina a hectic flush, and he wants to know whether is beats a full house or not. I claims it don't and he says it does, and I want the matter settled." A hectic flush was described to him and he we&t away satisfied, agreeing to call the bet off. Business Is Business. Tid-Bitl. Theatrical Agent I understand you have ft very large and wealthy congregation. Minister les, sir; I have. Theatrical Agent I suppose they follow tha advice in your sermons? Minister Oh, yes; I have a very faithful flock. Theatrical Agent Good! Now if you will only . denounce the coming of my ballet next week can mase it an object to you. What are your termsf Minister Well, for a mild protest I generally get $100. but for a severe denunciation I have to charge $200. Business is business. lie Told tbe Truth; Boston Letter In Trovidence Journal, One evening I was walking in the lobby of ft Boston theater with Dr. A. It was the first night of a new play, and Dr. A. was expressing his contempt of the work in no measured terms. when the author of the piece came toward us. . "Well," ho asked, with brisk abruptness, "how do you like my play I" "My dear fellow," Dr. A, anwered. without a moment's hesitation, "if I had written that play I should be 60 proud of it there would be no living with me." I dragged Dr. 1). along before the gratified autnor had ceased to beam with satisfaction over this comt pliment. "I only told him the truth," he said to me; "if I had been fool enough to write that stuff I should be fool enough to be unspeakably proud of it" An Emperor In Love. The recently-published correspondence of Queen Catharine, of Westphalia, gives this de-1 scription of Napoleon I juet before his marriage with .Maria Liouisa: "You havo no conception, my dear father. how enamored he is of his future wife, nil head is in a blaze of excitement' I am unable to give an idea of; not a day passes he does net send one of his chamberlains charged like' Mercury, with the messages of the great Jupiter. He has shown me five of these eoia-' ties, which are not altogether those of St Paul. He says that when he is married he will give peace to tbe world and all his time to Zaire. To show you to what a pitch he is oc cupied about the Archduchess I will tell you that he has sent for tailors and shoemakers and ordered them to dress him with the utmost care, and he is learning to waltz. These are. things neither you nor I could have imagined" The marriage took place the 1st of April. Tho 13th she write3: "The Emperor has become invisible for his family, and the Empress receives no one but the Queen of Naples; all the other sisters and sls ters-in-law are kept out in the cold. You may guess that in such a state of things it is impossible to transact any important business. No reply is given to a request for audience, and my husband has been able to see him only once since we came to Compiegne." The Prevailing "Chinook." New York Tribuue. "Chinook" is an Indian name given to a wind occasionally experienced on the eastern slope ot tho Rocky mountains, in Montaca, and tbe ad jacent region. In passing over that lofty range, ' the air current loes most of the moisture ae quired from the Pacific ocean, and comes down again many degrees warmer than before. A similar phenomenon in Switzerland is' called a "foehn." As the chinook visits what in winter is the coldest part of this country, its arrival oft ' en works a very marked change in temperature. Stories which sound fabulous are told of tha rapidity with which it melts snow on the great cattle range of the Northwest A IMace fur Spinsters. Boston Saturday Gazette. An elderlv single woman, with a good deal of money and no special vocation, told me she was in future going to spend her winters in. Washington. "irou see," she explained, "not being a young girl, or a married woman, or a so cial leader, there ts logically no social place toyme in Boston. Washington is the only American city cosmopolitan enough. Old World enough, to afford social place to women of my age with out a mission. It ia really, you know, the onljl American city where boys and girls are not snpv posod to bo the only persons to carry on society.'; Yos, Va going to VYashlngton." v