Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 28, Number 13, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 March 1879 — Page 7

THE INpiAKA, STATE Enmj Tl og 179.

f

REST.

E. SPENCEK MULES. Kest? There is no such thing ; a coward's baseless dream. Time Is a rushing flood, And thou art in Its stream. Rest? Up and be a man ; Look out upon the night. No star stands still in Heaven, In all toy aching sight. Best? Chafe no more in vain; Oo, lest tny peers go by; Thou wouldst not it Lhoa cooldst Evade thy destiny. Cni bono? Faithless words ; It is enough for thee To know that toil expands Thy weak capacity. . a o No! onward, ever on; Time's earnest moments roil ; Leave rest to sickly dreams, Cul bono? to the fool. MAT'S LUCK. "It is just my lack!" said Mat. "Confound It:" He walked gloomily to the window and looked out on the vivid green of th9 croquet lawn, on white and red roses clustering about the porch; on the old rector, tending his favorite geraniums in the distance, amid a blaze of sunshine and glow of color. Mat lODged to be with him the sombre room seemed oppressive as a cage. He threw open the French windows, drew a long breath and thrust his fingers into the pockets of his shooting coat, tailing naturally into a careless, lounging attitude peculiar to him. The finger came in contact with a note, and idly brought it to light. It was addressed, in a woman's bandwriting, to ''Matthew Curtis, Esq., M. D." A grim smile played about that gentleman's lips as be reflected how unsuited was that formal superscription to the jovial, reckless goodfor naught, known to rich and poor for miles around as young Mat Curtis. With a listless air he draw forth the brief inclosure. His face darkened as be perused it. "Miss Agnes Ballae would be glad to have a few minutes conversation with Mr. Curtis." "Lover-like very!" commented Mat, with sarcastic emphasis. Another glance at the dslicate paper and the firm, Equare handwriting, the dark look hardening the while, until the character of the face seemed completely altered"Look at it!" quoth Mat. "Her hand never! trembled; there is not a wavering stroke! Why, most girls would cry their eyes out while writing such a note as that to their lovers." He crushed the offending missive into a crumpled ball as he spoke, and addressed a few more unapostolic expletives to the fair sunshine expletives peculiarly unbefitting a clergyman's study, or the hearing of the young lady who noiselessly entered in time indistinctly to catch them. Young not more than 20, perhaps but with a serene and queenly grace of move ment, a gravely beautiful face an air just now of haughty disgust "Pardon me," she says, icily, "so interesting a conversation with yourself is probably of a confidential nature." Mat turns with a flaming face, a quick, deprecating gesture, a courteous, apologetic bow and speech that somehow in their confused humility stamp him as a gentleman. "I trust, indeed, you did not bear it. I earnestly crave forgiveness if you did!" She contemptuous'y dismisses the matter with the slightest wave of a little jeweled hand. Cold, hard, proud, she looks, and her words have a clear cut articulation sugges tive of newly-clipped coins. "I eentfor you." "Yes,'- answers Mat, defiantly. His penitence is dying away the dark, hard expression is returning. "Just my luck!" it seems to repeat. "To beg an answer to three questions," continues Miss Bellne. Mat bows, thrusts his hands into the deep shooting-pockets once more, and resumes the careless, lounging attitude. "Have you entered your name, notwithstanding my protest, as a gentleman rider for the autmn steeple chases?" Yes" "Have you, in truth, gone back to the old habit of dropping into the 'Barleycorn two or three nights in the week to (how superb was the ring of scorn ia her voice!) drink ale and smoke in company with the boors there?" "Yes," repeats Mat, sturdily. "Is it, indeed, true that ou leaving that inn last night you involved yourself in a poaching affray, actually knocking down a keeper and helping oae of the poachers to escape?" "Yes," said Mat, with a kind of sullen despair. Miss Bellue draws something frotn her white fingers and holds it out. Mechanic ally Mat's hand comes cut ot the shooting pocket and grasps it. It is a woman's en gagement ring. They look at each other, a curious contrast in the two faces. Hers composed calm, haughtily indifferent. His blankly astonished, angry, agitated, by turns. "Not not that, Agnes'j, he pleads, husk ily. The serene beauty, the quiet determination of her face answer hup. "Can you not make allowances?" be cried. "Can you not understand that mad young blood like mine must find some excitement greater than mixiog pills, and powders, and lotions, or creeping through sick rooms all day?" . It is - iliful to see how he witches her while he speaks, and notes tha same fixed, mute, changeless answ r: . "At least, let me explain. I can do so to your satisfaction, I think, I hope!" he says, dubiously. "Return it to your finder, and reserve judgment till you hear tha defense!" And he holds the ring towards her with a graat, clumsy band that trembles somewhat. Still no audible reply. A f iot shake of the head, a look of polite incredulity that is all. "Do you not care?" he asks. His appealing eyes ssarch her faoe. ' It does not charts. Beautiful, imperturble, the sentence written tbere never varies. His unsteady fingsrs drop the ring, but he let it lie half buried in a fleecy rug. Then, with a set. stern look, he sets his foot upon it, bows' slightly, and walks from the room. He leaves the house, passing the window to gain the road, but looking neither to the right, nor to tne leit. His bead is e.ect, his hands ara out of the loose pockets. For once (startling transformation), young Mat. Curtis loots positively dignified. : And as he vatisb.es as startling a transformation fakes place In the room ha has quittori. Miss Bellne proves herte'f a woman. nd not Queen, by a series of actions esoantiallv feminine. First.she rescues the bent love-token from the floor; then she kisses it and cries over it; ihn nhe locks it away carefully in a writ ine desk: then she rushes up stairs to watch hoi- lnvpront of sieut from an upper win - vAr nnsrter of a mile or so she Witched ltim. k Totreatine-fUure. growing smaller amnller in the distance. He never once lrVerl hack: the regular march of his steps never faltered; a turn of the road .irl him from sieht. Miss Bellue sat down n 4V.0 flrtnr a most undignified position Tirl crid till her pretty eyes were red and Tt in all over !" she moaned "all over 1" e " n: f mm t" Mat sprang from his bed, and with profea.ahiI tiTMTtneaa struck a light, tumbled lBto some clothes and rushed from the . a n .v whence the alarm proceed

cd; the fierce) pillar of flame and tha red

glow in the sky were beacons towards which he ran at headlong speed, with one thought in his mind. "I pray to Heaven it may not be the rectory !" , "Where is it T he shouted, to two laborers, fagging along as swiftly as heavy boots and ponderous habits of progression would let tbem. "Fearmer Joyce's, sur." "Farmer Joyce's ! Thank Heaven ! The next house to the rectory, but - not near enough to endanger it 1" Mat's suspense gave place to a thrill of almost pleasureable excitement; it was his "mad young blood" assorting itself. Dashing through a gateway, he almost ran over a girl, bare-headed, wringing hsr hands in impotent anxiety. It was Miss Bellue. "Go back at once," commanded Mat, curtly. "Put on a hat and the thickest shawl you have." The panic-stricken girl obeyed. Not till afterwards did it occur to her he had no right to issue such instructions. When she returned it was to find Matthew Curtis. Esq,, M. D., in the center of a burning pigstye, pitching out squeaking, halfroasted porkers. "Just my luck." he grumbled, examining his scorched fingers. "If they had been babies, now, I might have gained some credit at the same risk." "The stable is a-fire, but!" "What!" shouted Mat. He did not wait for the information to ba repeated. An ardent lover of horseflesh, it was an appeal to his sympathies' that sent him around intervening out buildings in a state of breathless suspense. It was true. The stable was on fire; the horses were screaming with terror; two or three rustics were making excited and fruitless attempts to drag them out attempts the poor animals resisted with all their might" A little crowd of men looked on idly and despairingly. '-Jim. run into the barn and eet three or four empty sacks and a rope. Quick!" "Yes, sur." By drawing a sack over each animal's head and neck, thus blindfolding it; by passing a rope round the forelegs and setting strong arms to haul, and by a little organization of brave but until then ill-applied efforts, a rescue was effected. All the horses were saved except one poor brute smothered by the smoke. Farmer Joyce came up with a grimy hand extended in honest gratitude: "Tnank you kindly, sir. I don't mind for the ricks and the buildings they are all insured; but it went to my heart to hear the ni poor brutes scream." Mat gave his left bind the right hand was bound up with a handkerchief. The old rector joined them. Miss Bellue leaning on his arm. "The danger is over now, Joyce, I think Mat, come across witd ma." Ma t glanced at the averted face of the young lady, and misconstrued it. She was, in truth, ashamed to meet his eye. The con trast between his coolness and courage and her physical cowardice humbled her. She had come down from that pedastal of propriety from which she had presumed to judge him so harshly, but he did not suspect it.

I have burnt mv hand and arm slightly justmy luck!" said Mat. "I must go horns at once to dress them." He took off his hat as ..he spoke, awkwardly enough with the left hand, and tnrned away. "He is a fine fellow, Agnes, that lover of yours," said the ractor; "but his manner is rather abrupt to night. What ails him?" "Never mind, papa nevermind." There was a kind of wail in Mies Ballua's voice. "A lovers' quarrel," thought the rector, sagely. "Then my attitude must ba one of dignified neutrality my policy non-intervention;" and he laugbed quietly to himself at the conceit. Mat was dressing his burns in the surgery when the outer door opened, and his father entered. "Hallo, dad! Who called you up? It was mv turn tonieht." It should be explained that "young Mat Curtis" and "the old doctor" were partners, "The old doctor" made no reply. He sat down in a low chair, and began to fan himself with a broad straw hat. Mat, looking up in surprise, saw that he was ghastly pale; that his eves had a look of horror in them; that his whole appearance was of a man who had sustained a terrible irignt. Mat touched his arm gently. "What is it. father?" Doctor Curtis' lipi moved twice before any sound issned; then he uttered but one word, "Cholera!" ITDon Mat's fac? there came a faint re flic tion of his father's fear. Tne scourge bad been rasing with frightful violence in dis tant parts of England. They had talked of it often, dreading its approach, trusting it mieht pass by this pure, heaitby village. No; the next day three cases were reported and one death. Tae rival practitioner, Mr. Bennett, a man of good private means, flsd with his wife and family. Mat and "the old doctor" were worked almost to death. No need of bar-parlor discussions, or approach ing steeple chases, or poaching affrays now to quiet the mad young Diooa. Mat went trom nouee to nouse wiin a grave face, and a cheerful, kindly, hopeful word for every poor ternhad wrexn, wno saaidered at his own fears. Then his father was stricken, "the old doc tor." Poor "old doctor!" When the evil he had dreaded really came to him, seized upon him. he errew brave and strong. "Nonsense, lad!" he said, when Mat tried to speak encouraging words from a sinking heart "I have no stamina: I could not ex pect to live much longer in the ordinary course of nature. Don't blink the truth, boy. I shall be glad to die in harness." Miss Bellue watched the fnneral proces sion from that same upper window she had once before put to a similar use Very contrite was Miss tie line in these davs. A horrible dread had taken posses sion of her with the firat report of cholera in the village. She fought against it; she bated herself for it; she tried to drag herself to the beds of the sick poor; but trembling limbs refused to carry her. It was constitu tional Dhvsical cowardice; and every eossip ping tale of Mat's calm heroism increased her sell abasement ana ner love ana auiuir&uoa for the unconscious gentleman. His father's death gave him double work, but he did not spare blmself. He snatched food, rest, sleep when and how he could, un til the epidemic died out almost; then as the last case was in a fair way of recovery, he sickened. "Mv luck has changad," said Mat, with a smile. ' I can be spared now the work is done." Miss Bellue heard the news the same hour. A housemaid to whom she had done some little kindness ran off to the rectory to tell her. Miss Bellue gave an order or two and went straight to her father's study. "Pana. Mat is stricken now." "Bless my soul!" said the rector, in great excitement. "Poor lad poor lad!" "I have told Jenkins to put the horses to the brougham and the housekeeper to get the gren bed room ready. "Ei?" and the old gentleman looked very bewildered. "And you must fetch Mat," exclaimed Mies Bellue, calmly. "But but" "He shall not bs left to the nursing of these ignorant servants," she insisted, resolutely. "He shall be brought here or I will assuredly go to h'm," The rector had yielded to her all her life. He shook his head in some perplexity. "Are you not afraid, dear?" A peculiar smile lighted her pale, beautiful countenance. "Wot now." A similar question was almost the first one nut by Mat, in a convalescent state. "Were you not afraid, darling?" "Perfect lore caste th out fear," she rejoined, softly.

"THE FIGHTIXG ALSTONS."

Carolina Family Whose Members Mast All Die With Their . Boota On. Strange and Violent Deafts of the Alstons Through Many Generations. "Col. Bob" Meets the Faie of His Race. Atlanta Letter In New York Herald. The killing of ."Cojonel -Robert A. Alston, in this city, on last Tuesday,- revives tne memory of the most .famous family, proba. bly, of the old-time chivalry days the fighting Alstons of Carolina." . The history of .this audacious strain of blood Is Interwoven with the history of those turou,lent .days When gentlemen fought at the drop of the hat. and a slight movement of thejptol finger was the answer to all insult or insinuation the close of all argument. - .. ' ! The Alstons were gallant men Jot gentle blood and usually large fortunes. vTfaey were free livers and reckless fighters, and frequently became involved in difficulties that drained their estates with coits and forfeitures. Probably the best known of them, Colonel Ben Alston, had several affairs ot honor, and wounded his antagonist every time he went to the field. He was an imperious, passionate man, and as cool under fire as he would be in his drawing room. His most notable duel was with Hayne, whom he wounded in the knee. On one occasion he was visiting in Augusta when a gentleman mistaking him for an acquaintance, tapped him across the shoulders with a r. ding whip. Alston wheeled as quick as lightning. The gentlman apolo gized in the most ample terms. Alston took the whip from his bands, lashed him acroes the back, and then said: "Now, sir, your apology is accepted." Of course a meeting followed. It is said that Alston once fought a gentleman who disputed the age kof some wine of which Alston had been boastiog, throwing some of the wine in his face that he might get its full flavor. Colonel Bob Alston came of the family known as the Halifax Alstons. Their estates lay about Halifax, N. C, and they dominated that whole section for years. They were enormously wealthy, and traveled from one of their estates to another in almost regal state. They had hundreds of slaves, and always traveled with a coach and four and a small army of retainers. The men were princely in their habits of expense, and put the "code" above the Bible. The women were high strung and spirited. Mrs. Bob Alston, the grandmother of the subject of this sketch, always carried her own sheets and pillows with her when she traveled, and a case of loaf sugar. "I have known her," says C jlonel Tom Howard, a connection, "to put $100 on a cock fight, with her own birds, and then stand and watch the struggle to the death." Colonel Willis Alston, known as "Honest Willis Alston," the grand uncle ot Bob Alston, fought a dozan duels in one winter, numberless quarrels hariog sprung from his assaults on a defaulting State treas nrer. He killed two men, and was himself frequently wounded. His favorite weapon was an old-fashioned "yager," which is a sort of blunderbuss, carrying a double hand ful of buckshot, and of fearful execution, A volume might be filled with the bloody exploits of these two brothers, but I shall deal only with tha sons of Colonel Bob Als ton, who were tue later Alstons immediate ancestors. AN ALSTON MUST DIE WITH HIS BOOTS ON. Old Colonel Alston, who was himself killed in a duel, had r.nree sons Willis, Gideon and Augustus. Willis Alston was the father o: Colonel R A. A'ston. Each of these brothers came to his death by violence, or died, as the family tradition runs, "in his boots." Gideon Alston, the first of the three to die, was killed ia a peculiar manner. His brother Willis was in Nashville, on a lordly frolic, when he became very much enamored of the lady who afterward married Sam Houston a Miss Trimble, I believe. He paid her assiduous suit for several months, and, while engaged in this dalliance, formed an attachment lor a young Spanish boy, named Pelat. This boy was friend ess and poor and Alston adopted him, taking him home with him when he left Nashville. It appears that there was some feeling between Pelat and Gideon Alston; at any rate they left the house at night and went into the yard for the purpose of "prac ticing with their pistols. Gideon was then a college boy, having just turned sophomore in the State University. In a fe v moments after he left the house with Pelet he was found in the yard with a pistol bullet through his brain. Pelat said that he had shot himself accidentally, and this is all that was ever known of the matter. A FLORIDA TRAGEDY. And now comes one of the most remarkable tragedies in the history of this section so full of tragedies. There was living in Florida, then a primitive region, young Leigh Used, a man of great ability, gentleness and couiage. He was almost idolized by the peo ple of that State for his gallant services In the fierce Indian wars, having by his skill and fearlessness several times saved the lit tle colony from destruc:ion by the Seniinoles and their allies. A story is told of him that will illustrate his character and at the same time show how delicate was the sense ot personal honor at that time. Gen eral Reed was a political opponent of Gover nor Call's son, and at the same time his personal friend. Poll teal feeling ran very high, and on election day a Mr. White made some re flections upon the integrilyof GoverCall. iteedatonce challenged him lor a duel. The men went, were both desperately wounded, and behaved with great gallantry, fighting, I believe, with bowie knives, their left bands being strapped together. 8ome time afterward Reed became involved in a difficulty with the Alstons. I give the story as it was given me by Colonel B. A. Alston himself. He said that an article appeared in a newspaper refisctlnz on Governor Call. Colonel Augustus Alston,, who was the leader of the Call faction, demanded the name of the author. He was furnished with the name of General Reed, who was the leader of tbe opposite faction. He at once challenged General Used, and a meeting was arranged. The weapons .selected were "yagers," this deadly weapon being, as I have said, a favorite with tbe Alstons. Colonel Alston was attended by Mr. Kenon, his brother-in-law. At the word "one" Colonel Alston's gun exploded, it being hair-triggered. The contents were discharged into tbe air. General Reed, aiming with deliberation, fired, and Colonel Alston dropped dead in his tracks. His sister, a most spirited woman, was nearly crazed at the news of his death. She secured the lead that had killed him, and with her own hands she molded it Into bullets and sent them to her brother, Willis Alston (the father of R. A. Alston), and implored him to come and avenge the death of his brother.

Sbe wrote that he had been murdered, and

tbe Alstons adhered to this belief, although the general statement is that the meeting was a fair one. General Reed using only his just right in tiring after the explosion of Al ston's ."yager. " At any rate it was very well understood that Willis Alston would seek' revenge for bis brother's death, as the fami ly for generations bad made one oi an their quarrels. Tbe first meeting between Alston and Reed' was dramatic. The L gislature had just met, and Reed been elected speaker. He was a young man of exceptional power and popularity, and bis life promised to be brilliant and illustrious. He had invited his friends to the usual, legislative sapper, and the banquet was in progress, everything going merlly and well. Suddenly a tall fig ure, muffled in a swinging cloaic, ana with, a slouch - bat drown down over tbe face, stalked through the open door. Without a word it made for the head of the table, where General Reed wsa . sitting. Instantly cries ot " Alston ! Atsto . 1" arose and ran down the table. At these cries the cloak was thrown back and Alston was recognized. Reed rose from his seat, and, whipping a pistol out of his socket, leveled it at his afsailant and fired. The ball struck Alston in his uplifted hand, carrying away two fingers. This did not atop him, but brandishing a bowie knife, he closed on Reed. Before the men could be parted, need was cut pretty severely,' and Alston, I believe, wounded again. . Alston was taken from tbe room, and for some months nothing more was heard of the matter. One day General Reed was walking down the streets of Tallahassee, when he was tired upon by Colonel Alston. Tbe contents of one barrel of a shotgun was poured into his shoulder, and as he turned to confront his assailant, the other load went into his heart. He fell and died. Colonel Alston's friends say that he had given Reed notice that he intended to kill him on sight. KILLED BY A MOO. Willis Alston went to Texas, where he lived for some time. He. settled near Brazoria. There was a Dr. Stewart, who for some reason or other, pursued the matter of the Reed killing and used remarks derogatory to Alston. Alston hearing of it wrote the remarks down, and meeting Stewart on the prairie one day asked him to say whether or not be was responsible for those remarks. Dr. Stewart took tbe paper, and while pretending to read it, put his hand into his holsters and drew his pistoL He jumped oft his horse on the side opposite Alston and fired into him. A desperate fight ensued, in which Alston was soot twice, and bis stomach so cut that his bowels protruded. He killed Stewart, however, pouring a load of buckshot into him after he was ptone upon the earth. Hs was taken to jail almost dead. He was a famous fiddler, and procuring a fiddle, sat there "with his entrails protruding," as he wrote to a friend, playing the old tunes of his boyhood. His body servant gained admission to his cell and had a coil of rope wrapped about his body. With this he was going to try and es cape. Suddenly a mob assaulted the jail, overpowered the sheriff, broke in the doors and aeizsd Colonel Alston. He was game to the last, and fiddled up to the very instant he was seized, bis dauntless face looking full upon his assailants He was tumbled into a blanket, the ends twisted, and he was then hustled out of the jail. Once out in the 8'reet. he was thrown to the ground, stilt enveloped in the blanket, and a hundred bullets were poured into his body. Thus died the last of the "Halifax Alstons." They were a remarkably athletic and handsome race of men. Gideon, who was killed by Pelat, is always cited as the handsomest youngster of his day. It may be said hers that the young Castilian who killed .him was put into tbe navy as a midshipman, "and was drowned in the Mediterranean. Willis Alston was a man of wonderful strength. He once shouldered a load of 800 pounds dead weight, and carried it through the streets of Sparta on a bet. His life was a stormy one. His feud with the Ingrams, a brave and powerful family, was the sensation ot Gaorgia for the time it lasted. He always carried his "yager" with him, and escaped the whole difficulty with only one finger shot away. This feud was dramatized nnder the title of "Tbe Watch," and sold largely. Its authors were never discovered, or they would have been killed, as tbe heroes of that day did not tol erate the publication of their troubles. Tbe manuscript was discovered one moraine in tbe yard of a fearless widow, who published it herself and sold it, making a great deal of money by it. COLONEL ROBERT A. ALSTON. Colonel R. A. Alston was a remark ble man. filled with all the chivalry, fearless ness ana not-ncaaeaness ot his race, he dreaded, above all other things, meeting an end like his ancestors. It was not fear, for an Alston does not know what fear is. H was as brave a man as ever lived. In the army, as one of Morgan s lieutenants, he was the most reckless and daring of tbem alL He once actually had a biscuit shot from between his teeth, but. with a laugh. he continued his breakfast. He said to your correspondent once: "I have a boy who is a hot-headed fellow himself, and I have taken my wife's band in mine many a time, and knelt with her by his bedside, and prayed to God that I might bequsath him a legacy of peace and a quiet death." It was his highest ambition, as he has often said, to break the old tradition that "an Alston must die in his boots." Once again, I was with him when he was going to the field to meet Colonel E. Y. Clarke, of a rival newspaper. The challenge had been issued, and he was just going to take the midnight train. Suddenly, he turned to a dark wall, and, leaning his head on his hand, prayed aloud that God might spare him the death his people bad died, and al low him to live in peace till a quiet death couia ciaim mm. tie never believed, how. ever, that this would be granted him. It made him gloomy to talk of it, but to his tnends he would say that he knew bis des tiny was to "die the Alston death." He even naa a superstition that a certain man was going to kill him. There had never been any trouble between tbem, but Alston always said, "That man is my fate. ' The man was nis irteno, ana never became anytning eise. jJ2spite tnese gloomy thoughts, Alston was a devout believer in the code. After he had joined the church be still adhered to bis belief. "It is a peacemaker," be said. In South Carolina, whore the code stood above the State law, there never was so quiet and decorous a community. in Charleston county tbere was not a murder in 18 years. and tbe files of the Charleston Courier for nearly 2o years do not show the use of the word "liar ' or "scoundrel" orany similarepithets a single time. There were no street tights or rows, and no assassinations. A hieh code ot honor was established, and it made even cowards brave men. He used to tell of a Carolina judge (Mr. Pettigrew). who, having two men before him for trying to fight a duel, said: "Gentlemen, it will take mean hour to write out these warrants. In the meantime, there is a steamer at my wharf that can take you out of my jurisdiction, so that you can complete your work before could hold you." Colonel Alston never fought a duel himself, though he issued and accepted several challenges. The conservative spirit of these latter days almost always settles tnese matters witoout the exchange ot shotj. - While Alston wonld have died before he would have submitted to a dishon orable compromise, I know what stubborn heroisia It required to carry him into an affair of honor. He shrank with horror from such test. His wbole life was over shadowed by the memory of his ancestors and their bloody ends. He was a rec ognized authority on matters of the code, and was usuallv called into nil prominent affairs. When he was tenacious of the honor of his principals, he never stickled for technicalities, and usually succeeded in adjusting the diTarenoes. Only once was he second in a fatal meeting. He attended young McGraw, of Charleston, and loaded the pistol that killed Tabor. There had

appeared In the Charleston Mercuay a communication assailing Judge McGraw, signed with a nom de plume. Contrary to the usual practice of demanding , tbe name of tbe author of- the offensive article, Alston demanded . for McGraw satisfaction of Tabor and his two editorial associates, holding that the gravamen of the offense was in thi publication. The name of the author was ottered and declined. Tabor then announced himself responsible. McGraw, through Alston, challenged the three editors, naming Tabor first The parties went to the field. At -the second shot Tabor jumped straight into the air. fell upon his back, shivered and dfed McGraw was unhurt, and the affair stopped there. ' HIS LAST MKETtHO. ; ; - Alston had been engaged in many personal encounters, but never had been seriously hurt. It was harder for him to take an insinuation or insult than for almost any one else; but he always repressed his anger, and if possible, avoided trouble. He was a fine talker, a genial gentleman, of winning address, and those saved him from many difficulties that his impetuosity would have led him into. H s favorite maxim, however, was the saying of Sir Boyle Roach: "The best way to avoid danger is to meet it plumply!"and his boldness often sufficed where temporizing would have failed. In the trouble that led to his death, after be had been sent off by Cox to arm himself, his first impulse was to get a double-barreled shot-gun and go and look Cox up and kill him. He was thoroughly acquainted with the violent habits of his enemy, and knew best how to meet them. He was dissuaded from this course, however, by Governor Colquitt and others He was very much depressed at the idea that Cox was hunting him down.and seemed to bare a premoci tion ot what was coming. He said, throwing himself it to a chair in the treasurer's

office, "It is awful bard to know that a man is dogging you and that you have got to kill him or be killed." Instead of goiDg off to arm himself, he went into a restaurant to get sonie dinner. He ate heartily, but was very much worried. At length he was persuaded to take a pistol, getting one that be had never seen before, a self-cocking sixshooter. When he entered the treasurer's office he seemed relieved to think he had found a retreat from tbe trouble. No sort of personal fear moved him, but the idea of bloodshed seemed to sicken him. When he saw Cox enter and half draw his pistol at a man evidently mistaken for htm he seemed to know that his time had come. He grew a shade pale and his face hardened and grew stera. His first word, though, was an appeal. "I am not going to have any difficulty with you," he said; "you must let me alone." Cox still persisted, however, growing angrier all the time. At length, when be stepped back and closed tbe door and said, "I will force yon, sir," he seemed to give up ail hope. Captain John Nevios, his friend, who witnessed it all, describes the scenes that followed: "Colonel Bob rose quiet and calm, just like he was going to make a speech. There was not a tremor about him. 'All right,' he says, 'we'll have It out right here. Are vou armed?' With that he drew his pietoL Cox's was already out. I threw myself between them and said, 'No vou don't, gentle men !' Colonel Bob thrust bis band over m v shoulder and fired, striking Cox in the mouth. At the same time Cox fired and the ball went through my whiskers. Their hands nearly crossed as they fired. I still held them apart They fired again by me, and I then turned tbem loose. Cox was jumping and dodging around, but Colonel Hob never moved. He stood straight as a statue. After he had shot his fourth shot he turned his face to me and smiled that peculiar smile he has. As he turned he pulled trigger agun and his pistol snapped. Then Cox fired again, and I saw a red spot ooz3 in Colonel Bob's temple. Cox was trying to cock his pistol aeain, wben I u n inert in and threw him back. catcbiDg ittionei two. tie sank in my arms. When I turned. Cox was sating in a chair, spitting biood, with his pis'-nl on ataxic He said. I am a dad man. I cut Colonel 1-ob s shirt open. Scat Treasurer Raynor says that Alston pat both his hands on Cox's breast and said, K I. for God's sake, let us have no difficulty. I don't want to kill you: you snouian't want io kill me." THE Al.STO.1 DESTISY. Alston had a peculiarly winning and handsome face, and a semi military manner. tie stood like a statue while shooting, bis handsome face set and stern, with the old Alston fire blazing from his eves. turning his erect figure by military half wheels to pre sent his side always to bis smiting enemy, Alter be bad been shot down Mr. Ed. Mercer, whe knew of his foreboding about dying wltll Si. KrtntQ nn MilA 1 T T aHall nrr Aim in his boots, by God! ' and tenderly took them on. l he scene at the death bedside was af fecting in tbe extreme. Only the most in timate friends and tbe family were admitted. a force of police beatiog baca the host that surged against the doors. As it was evident that he must die in a few moments, Mrs. Alston asked Governor Colquitt, who waa kneeling by tbe bedside and, who was devot ediy attached to the eying man, to pray. With a voice broken with emo tion, holding Alston's hand, tbe governor prayed aloud, while every head in the room was bowed and every eye streamed with tears. And thus without a shudder. with hardly a moan, his face peaceful and ball smiling, he died. In his btd. bis wife and friends about him, prayers going to God with bis fleeing soul, and only tbe ghastly blue-red bole in his temple to tell that the old Alston desViny had overtaken him and that he had left the old Alston heritage to his son. He leaves two brothers one a prominent Alabamian aad tbe other living on his place both most excellent gentlemen. He leaves a wite and four children a devoted and admirable family. They have a fine plantation; but the noble generosity of Colo nel Alston s lite leaves little else. He was a true man, a gallant fnend, a rising states man. The wbole city end thousands of friend throughout tbe Union mourn bis 1 death. Cox Is getting better, but will be seat to jail to awtut his trial. The Sad Heee.lt ef a Fbyalclaa's Kindt New York Sun. A poor woman carying a sick child, pite ously begged Dr. Jeremiah Corcoran, of 415 Kent avenue, Brooklyn, on .Saturday night 1 last, to do something lor her child, as it baa the diphtheria, and sbe was too poor to pay a physician. The doctor found the child to be seriously affected, and after prescribing for it In his house, promised to call at the woman's home the next day in his rounds, Mrs. Oorooran feared that their own children were endangered by tbe presence of tbe sick child, but Or. Corcoran thought the child had been too short a time in the house to i impart tbe diseasa. On the next day the doctor's son Gaorge was selzsd with diph theria, and before midnight he was dead. On the following day, while the doctor was at tbe fnneral, his youngest sou, one year old. died of the same disease, and his seven-year-old son, Joseph, has since been attacked with symptoms ol diphtheria. Why Some nearta Acne. New York Tribane.l A very sinking though wholly insignifi cant token of tbe change that has come over the benata was to ba seen yesterday in the usual formal motions preliminary to the transactions of business. After 18 years of a Republican Senate, it must have sounded strangely to hear Mr. Thurman and Mr. Bayard making the motions which in recent years such senators as Mr. Kdmunds and Mr. Anthony have been accustomed to offer to inform the House and the president that tbe Senate is ready for work, etc - Sleepless nights and cheerless davs will be prevented if yon use Dr. Bull's Baby 8yrup to inuuee aieep ana composure xor tne baby. race cents.

The BJLsYXCHAIXD BLOOD & NERVE FOOD la mr JoeeatMkte I.IQTTTI Feed prepared direetlr xrema tk

KERNED. WltUeat Femm tatl and OI eflte i-etalmtafl BLOOD, NEKTB AID leatonai elemmta m mi i wlle.lt me ties a. BKAIBT itnrel atata NERVOUS DEOZUTT Which underlies ail forms or Chrome Disease Is speedily overcome by the use of this Food. !For the year past I have constantly pre scribed The Blaneeuunl Bleed end Serve Wood to my patients of all ages, from eighteen months to eighty-three years. In every case the result has been exactly that claimed by yon. It la by fiur the most valuable and reliable Tonic I have ever met -tth. swaju Huttok Smith, M. D, 20 Irving Place, New York. A SUBSTITUTE for. FOOD Is maae a curative agent by ooneentraUonand artiticlal aigestlon, and It la so simple in Its application that Tbe advice Of ptiy Hlclnn la not required. XIJOUuitlB or recoverfea from chronic dlseawe are reported, where the best medical skill has failed. Many of tbe beet pbvKlclans throucbou'. the country are IitM-ardlnic Dran and using uie Mianclirta Blood and Jrv Food with tbe most gratifying result, permanently relieving all forma of Physical and lieu Lai Debility. The Iyappiic and Conannip. five 1'Hilrut, Buncren from Malarial or Blood feiHOnliur. trarelher with tha otnttra list of com plaints peculiar to the Female Sea uuu m uie nae oi uiia oou aure and speeds relief. New York. a 1HTT DB. V.V. BUNCHAKD! Dnrlni IhamLktnu I have prescribed your various retaratious ofFo ooa cure, and feel bappy to say tuey ti tiey have met my most sanguine expectations, glvinc to patients long enfeebled by blood poison, chronic dlamse, or over drug dosing the noed ed nutrition and nerve force. IB fROF. ;UM ENCE S. LOZIER, M. D uean or nam. Med. Uonege and Hospital lor women, flew York CltyJ IIHnndreds of canes of Brlchfa TMaeae of the Kidneys have been reported cured. For nenraiglie aitci Moenmatie Plnewee It Is almost aspect flc. Phynlcal and Mental De bility from the ane of Aleohol, Opium and nnnamable canne. find In this Food a natural and oolent remedy. FOB THE ISTKLLRtrrilAl, BWOBKEB THE BLAA'CHAJXD BLOOD & NERVE FOOD AClirds a oerxttm ana corunu means or sup plying the wa of the brain resulting trom labor that will enable him to do better and mora work than evnr before, without dumr of mental strain. As a remedy for tbe Lota ef AnunUlm aad Want of t'Uror. Dhvhical and inentaL In children thin Food has oo rival. SL00 per Bottle, or 6 for $5.00. SOLD EY ALL DRUGGISTS. Or Sent by Express on receipt of Price. AlTDOVKS Ttl BOLOOtCAL PnTTirART, AMDOvr.R, Mass., March 29,1878. Your Life Food Is an excellent thlnz. I have no hesitation, after a thorough trial of It, Is recommending it In caxea of chronic dvsDeiiell and nervous prostration. kjcv.uk. Austin rtiiira o THE BLAH OH A B D POOD tTB 8TNTES now receiving such popular app elation la clearly net fortb in a 64 page pa phlet wnicn will bemnt to any address on oelptof 25 cents. Addreae Blanchard Food Cure Co. 27 CHIOS MtCAKE. HEW TOKH, FOR THE HAIR It aorrEss the bats tew harsh a to ' DBT. IT BOOTEES TKB rBBTTATED SCALP. IT j AFFORDS TUB RICHEST LCSTRE. IT PBT- 1 VECTS TI1E HAIB FBOX TAIXXSO OFT. IT J 1KOUOTES ITS HEALTHY, VIOOBOCJS GROWTH. It is hot oreasy jcob stick r. It leaves J KO DI8AOEEEAKIJ5 CDOB. IT XTJJUI DA-S-naupv. CLIFFORD'S FEBRSFUCE on CUHE. ERADICATES AIX MAl.ART.AZt DISEASES from the SYSTF.M. J. C. RICHARDSON, Prop.. ITrror bale by Ail uruprwu. 6T. LOU 13. On red Wlttito a Stipulated Time. Tte Triirasu Truss Cc.rir,1. ery, N. YorrertlflOOfora rupture they on n not car. The Triumph Trumea have received the highest honors at all fairs where they have been exhibited. Brad 10 eenta for book on the Cure of Baptnretoeltberomee. Examination ELECTRIC BELTS. A sure cure for Nervous Debility, Premature Decay, Weakncm, Connoinntiot Liver and Kidney diseases. General Debility, etc Tae Oaly BellaMe Care, dreulan mailed free. AddretiJ. H. REEVES, 43 Caalaaaa Street, Mew York.

FOOD AT

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