Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 47, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 18 May 1878 — Page 6

THE MAIL

A PAPER

FOR THE

PEOPLE.

W11 EX THE & UN QOm DO WN.

Two children were making the most of \he On llc saui their castles building: While O 'tuu Mm hvbor, the sunset gold wiu every vessel gilding. Bat the f-ea oirae over the cattle dear,

And the charm of lire sunset faded ©, after a labor is lost may we Go happliy hotne as they did. For we buiid and we build In a different way -*T1U our heads grow wise and hoary And «ft«r It all. the sun goe» down,

And the sea—'tis an old, old story.

May Everett's Governess.

At' -tusn

BY MARGARET T. SUTHERLAND.

Tbo park at Baddeaiey was conceded to bathe most beautiful in the country. Not only could it boast of oaks almost as old as the Conquest, and great glades in which the deer were nearly bidden by the fern, but it possessed a lake, which for extent and plcturosqueness could lordly be matched, for its siza, an where.

Near tlii» lako, on a hright day in earlv summer, when tt.o urf was t'lf kly t-nriiikled with wild flowers, a voau^ girl was sauntering idly along. Hhe bad just plucked soma fern, and a flower, and was thinking herself quite Alone in this secluded spot, when her «ar caught the quick sound of footsteps and turning, she saw, to her surprise, not a gamekeeper, as she had expected, but a young man in the morning undress of the upper classes.

The stranger seemed to be hardly less flt&rtied. He had never, he thought, «een so beautiful a face. He was evidently a thorough bred gentleman, dowHver, not only in dress but in reality for observing the confusion of the girl, be raised ids hat courteously, and said 'I am sorry I frightened you.'

The girl recovered herself with native •llgnity, at nuae. •It was so still here,that I did not hear you, till you wore cIo-»e at band—it was that which startlod me,' she answered, itl half apology.

Tho young man appeared a* if he could not resist the temptation to engage in conversation wit this pretty •Granger. SJ he said 'You wore gathering flowers and ferns, ft is a delicious sort of work this lovely afternoon. Don't you find it so But I t»eg pardon.' seeing that she looked a little amazed. 'I ought not to have

There was t-uch knightly deference in bis tone and manner, that whatever little alarm the girl might have felt, disappeared and she looked up, with a auiile, into the face of the dark-eyed stranger. •I came out to gather flowers and ferns 'to decorate the tea table for May Everett's birth day fete, at Springfield, tomorrow.' she said, frankly. 'But the delicious air, the perfect stillness of this •eeluded spot, has made me almost forifet my work. I was Just beginning, in #ii earnest, when jou came up.' 'Yes I it is a lovely spot,' uo answered, looking around, and speaking as it thinking aloud. 'It looks neglected, however. Everything about looks neglected. I passed through the old ohurohvard as I came along, and the church is dreadfully dilapidated.' 'Dreadfully,' was the frank reply. ••And such a dear old church, too! I wonder the owner is not ashamed of 4t.' •Who Is the owner?' 'You must be a stranger, sir, to the neighborhood, not to kuow. The Park and Hall belong to Sir Guy Fleming, who has lately inherited them. lie was abroad, when his father died, and has aot yet returned does not intend to return, ft is said. Everything, in consequence, is going to decay, tho church especially. Even the armorial bearings of tho proud Fleming family over the great square pew hang in ghastly fragments, and tho old oak paw "Itself is worn and mothoaten. These grotiuds, too, are neglect* ad, Servants, when tho master is away do nat ire, you kuow. I never s*w Sir Guy,'

she

oua

added, posiiively-'bat I

can never forgive him. Why does he not. come homo to the old place? Why doe* ho.not have tho old church re p.iir«d 'Perhaps he does not know what a condition It is in,' said the strahger. •lie ought to know,' anaweroJ the girl. »N doubt he is loading an idle, UBolesa life in some part of the world,' and she turned, with a decided air, to ago. •Pardon me, but let me detain you

moment. Do not judge the present owner of lUddesby too harshly. If his life has been Idle and useless, it has not bo«n altogether his lault—' He stopped, ked at tho sweet face searchingly, then said, *1 am Guy Fleming.'

What a beautiful picture she made, tttanding there before him, with her areal

Drown

eyes wile

open,

iu utter

astonishment, her Dolly Varden bat pushed a Uttlo back from her face, allowing the low, white forehead, and clustering ringlets of yellow hair that fell low on her shoulder*, the crimson ataln In her cheeks rivaling the color of lier lip*. •I aui so sorry. I—I beg your pardon,' and she looked" so much like a grieved, frightened child that Sir Guy said, gently, 'l,)"not look so distressed, or I shall bo sorrv I told you. I aui going to try and do*my duty here no* will you not wish me success

Ves, ofeourae,' she answered quickly, •but I aui so sorry I—' She was not unich more than a child, ft seemed, for he saw the tears in the nweet brown eyes, and the quiver of the ««i Hp®* •Danot let It trouble you so,' he said, earnestly. *Y«m only aald what every one thinks but I have no friends here, And it aeomed a little hard that I—that vnn should think ill Of me Must you ®o You spoke 01 Springfield do you live theref'

She nodded her dead. •I wonder if you will be offended at my next qitvVJon This vary politely.

Afe you Alias Kvorett The color in the smooth cheeks burnad no less brightly, as the young girl answered: "My nams is Alice Llnette I am May Everett* governess. Good afternoon. '•lood tv, Miss Linette/ and he liftod his hat again, and watched the small,

Striiahwiudtuguntil

Agur*, hidden from view, the walks of the park. Then ha slowly retraced his steps, through g'ade, ana wo-.nl, till be readied, half an hoar later, the grand old pile, with its great portico, and ivy-wreathed tower, which be was, in the future, to oaJi home.

Tha terraces in front were overgrown with long gra«, the marble basin of the

flower garden o: the midd'h terrace '.owed only unshapely mounds ai.d grass grown walks. He would change all

this

however, iu a very llUle while,

Sir Gov thought and the church, too, that must be restored M* soon a* posiit,le. In the gentleman's vision of the future, the picture of a young girl occupied the most prominent place however a girl, whose face, framed in rich settingof golden hair, bore a strik ing Resemblance to that of the one who had so lately looked at him with crimson cheeks as her Hps uttered the words: 'I am May Everett's governess.'

Miss Linette walked quickly acfdss the park, thinking it would be along time before she would enter its precincts again and saying to herself, "What made me say such a thing to a stranger? Poor papa was rightabout ray thoughtless tongne. But how oould I think that was Sir Guy Fleming He doesn't look a bit like the portrait of bis father that I've seen up at the hall, hardly even like an Englishman,' and she hurried along, fearing that Mrs. Everett w..u'. think she had been too long awa/ from her little charge.

May Everett was a spoiled child, but she loved her governess dearly, and such gleams of happiuesa a* reached Alice Linette came from May's loving little heart.

There was another daughter of the house of Everett, the beautiful blonde Maud.no longer in her first youth, but graceful and fascinating still.

The fathfr, a quiet inoffensive speci men of humanity, was. or rather, had been, a Birmingham tradesman he was now supposed to oe a country gentleman but poor man, be felts^dly out of place in tho luxury of his great house, so gran i, so new, so glaring, and he looked back with unspeakable longing. to 'the old shop in 'igb street.'

Mrs. Everett was such a woman as quiet, meek men usually marry there is a fatality about such things, so I need not describe her

Her first remark when the young governess entered her august presence was, 'How very long you have been, Mis3 Linette. May has beou quite fretting for you.'

It was soon noised abroad that Sir Guy Fleming hai returned toBiddeslev Haii ant had

tht

t:ken up hi*

abode »ind without a wi e, too! This laft v»s, by far the un*.t important part .no information. Of course no one knew ar.ytbiug of his past lile. But what did that matter? He was young, extremely handsome, had a. fair rent roll, and was a baronet—what more could you wish for?

His first call on the Everett's took place in dae timo. Mrs. and Miss Everett was charmed. Mrs. Everett expiated at length on his manners, his looks, his conversation, etc. Mr. Everett said what he usually did—nothing.

Miss Linette, of course, the baronet did not see but the following Sunday, when sitting in his pew in the old church at Wroxley, he beheld a slender gray robed figure come up the long aisle, and fair Alice Linette, leading little May Everett by the baud, entered the great square pew belonging to Springfield.

I am afraid Sir Guy did not fullj appreciate that morning's Bervices. He felt himself Rtaring more than once at the lovely girl who sat nearly opposite him, ana paid diligent attention to his prayer for several minutes after each such little episode.

Aft^r church, Miss Linette disappeared so quickly with her little charge that Sir Guy could not have felt sure that she had recognized him, had it not been' for one sly look and a sudden fl«?li, as she caught his dark eyes fixed on her.

One day, not long after this, he met her while walking in one of the stillest and deepest of the country lanes a lane shaded on either side by wild hedge rows, white with bawthorne blossom, or tinged with the bloom of the blackthorn. Was he not fortunate (so thought Sir Guy) in having chosen that particular lane for liis morning walk?

She could not refuse his polite and oven deferential request that he might walk with her she was only going to the village with letters, and it was such a lovely morning she was going the longest way.

No, she did not go for walk-* very often, unless Mrs. Everett bad some errands she wished h-*r to do but May did not feel very well this morning, and Mrs. Everett had given her a half holiday. 'May is the little girl who was at church with you last Sunday?' he asked. 'Yes. Isn't she a pretty little thin??' *1 never noticed,' ho answered truthfully.

Miss Linette looked disappointed. *1 thought everybody noticea May, she is so fair and sweet looking

The young girl little thought that the mau beside ber cared not to look at any face, however fair, when near her own. From the heighth of his six feet of manhood he looked upon her with increas ing love and tenderness, as he walked to the village, and back to the door of the Everett mansion.

How coul 1 Alice Linette help enjoying that long delightful walk? Poor child! little consideration was shown her in the great house of which she was an inmate, and In days gone by she bad known such under protecting care, as ma ie the Hitrint ail the more bitter.

Worthy Mrs. Everett, who had seen her littie daughter's governess walking with Sir Guv Fleming, was very much shocked. 'Where were you introduced to him?' she inquired.

Alice tried to explain that she had met Sir Guy on the first day he came to Baddeaiey, and he had spoken to her, whereat Mrs. Everett was,very properly, more shocked than before, and assured the girl that the acquaintance must end. •You are only a governess,you know,' ahe said. .Sir Guy Fleming attended church, at Wroxley, very regularly, the one at Baddeaiey being closed for repairs. So, once a week, he saw the shy, sweet face of Alioe Linette. That was all however, for he never by any chance met her again, uutil the first day of August. Tuat day was long to be remembered by the inhabitant* of that part of England, as the date of 'the great storm,' a storm of thunder, lightning, wind and rain, which, although of no long duration, was terrible in its fury.

After May Everett's lessons were finished that afternoon, Mrs. Everett informed Miss Linotte that ahe wished her to

go

on an errand to Wroxley, nearly two miles distant. When the young girlts services had been

long disused fountain was dotted wi... TS" .. .• .. patches of mm, and tho once trlui tho older lady attention^to the dark,

engaged

t*tli

as

eovernesato little May, Mrs. Everett had remarked, 'As you will have only one pupil, Miss Linette, of coarse you will have no objection to glvidg me any little assistance I may require, oat of school hours.' Alice had not objected to this, and soon found that it meant that she was to be ready, at any time, to do anything Mrs. Everett requested. Requested is a mild word. This time, however, she was so fearful of the approaching storm, that she begged to be allowed to wait until the next dav. and even ventured to call

brassy-edged clouds, swiftly speeding over the western sky, bnt it was but it was of no nse. 'There WR«I plenty of time to go to Wroxley and back before the storm,' which, shp could not deny, was approaching. Poor Alice dared not sav any more,for she bad had hard work to'find this situation,and sb^was home less. So sue put on her hat, and throwing her waterproof over her arm,started. The sir was still, ominously still, and so hot and oppressive that it seemed almost Impoxnio to breathe. Soon »tUur she left the »use, she befird the low muttering of distant thunder, and thought she must turn back but knowing how angry Mia. Everett would be if she did, she hurried on.

When she reached Wroxley, she was almost worn out by the rapid walk, and the dread of going hack, The overworked little milliner tried to have ber stay with her until alter tha storm, but it was drawing near four o'clock, and Alice feared that if she waited till the storm was ended, she could not reach Springfield "before dark.

One thing, however, she decided on that was to tol low the little foot path across the fields to Baddeaiey chureh, thence over the park to the turnpike road, which would leweh the distance nearly a half mile. But the tbuuder sounded louder and nearer bpfore sbo bad crossed tho first titiid, and though she ran as

fast

as her failing strength

would allow, by the time she. reached the church, tbe awful mar of the thunder waa mingled with tbe sound of the rapidly rising wiud, and more than once, the gathering darkness was lit up by lutid flashes of lightning. At first she thought she would take shelter in the church porch, but she had a child's faarof being alone in a thunder storm, and after crossing the park, it would be only a few steps to a little cottage,.where she could find shelter.

So she hurried through tbe churcli yard and entered the laurel walk, al moat blinded by fear and the vivid flashes of lightning.

Suddenly she teit, rather than saw, that someone waa near her, her baud was drawn through some one's arm, and Sir Guy Fleming's voice said, 'Let us hurry as fast u.s possible.'

Slio was too exhausted to speak, when bo ieft the path aiid hastened up the broad steps to the terrace, aod as tbe first drops of rain struck ber pale face, an arm was passed around ber, and Sir Guy almost carried her across the last level stretch of lawn, before the hall door. They were only just iu time, for the rain caine down in perfect torrents, as they entered.

Alice Linette sank down, almost faint ing. Sir Guy, utteriug an exclamation of dismay, raised her up and platted her on a sofa in the drawing room. He looked at the white face and colorless lips he saw how her breath came in great gasping sobs.

Poor Sir Guy did not know what to do. She tried two or three times to speak, before her lips could frame to words, 'Water, please.'

Sir Guy did not wait to summon a servant, but went himself, and in a very few moments returned with a glass of water. After sbe bad swallowed a little she said, faintly, 'I shall be better by and by. I always have the headache in a thunderstorm.'

Sir Guy remembered that, long years before, he had seeR his mother bathe her head in cologne to ease a headache, so he rung for some to be brought to him. Then, drawing his chair to the side of the sofa, he bathed Alice's throbbing temples, and gently stroked back the rippling hair from her white face.

He saw her flu^h at the first touch of his hand upon her forehead, but sh& kept quite sti'l for a few minutes, ber soft brown eyes veiled by their fringed lids, while his largo white hand performed its unaccustomed work. Outside, torrents of rain beat against the windows, and the wind roared around the old bouse, while ever and anon, the room was lit up with ghastly blue and yellow tints, as flashes of lightning came in quick succession.

Presently, Alice looked up to him. That will do, thanks, Sir Guy. You are vory kind.'

I hope your head is a little better,' said the baronet, reluctantly removing bis band from the shiuing hair.

She did not answer, but covered her face with her hands, as a prolonged and awful peal of thunder seemed to shake tho house of its foundations. 'Are you frightened?' ho asked, gently. 'No,' she answered, 'only to think, what would have become of me, if you had not mot me.'

His dark cheek paled a little as he looked at the childish face and figure, and thought how uufit sbe was to meet a storm of any kind but he answered, quietly, 'I am very glad Idid meet you,' aud alter a little pause, he went on, 'I was up in the tower, watching tbe approach of the storm, when I saw you hurrying across the field next the church. Where had you been?' 'To Wroxley. Mrs. Everett sent mo with a message to her milliner. I asked her to let me wait until the morning, but she said, no.' 'How cruel of her!' he exclaimed, angrily. •She thought I would have time to go and return, befoi-e the storm she did not mean to be unkind. I ran nearly all the way across the fields coming baek that waa the reason I was so faint when

I first came in.

O!

I wish I could

have reached Springfield before the storm began. Do you think it will last much longer, Sir Guy?'

He rose and went to the window, looked at tbe clouds for a few minutes, then returned to his seat near the sofa. 'I think ^be clouds in th*west are lifting. Tbe worst seems to be over,' he said.

Bat the worst was not over till nearly an hour from that time then the fury of the storm slowly spent itself, the wiud died away, the flashes of lightning were less frequent, and half an hoar later all was still, t*ve the sound of quiet rain.

Alice Linette would not remain till it stopped raining. 'She had her waterproof with ber and the rain would make uo difference,'sbe said.

In vain Sir Guy begged that she would allow him to drive her to Springfield. 'No,* sbe answered, *she preferred walking, and most go at ones it was only a little way.'

She turned in the great ball to say good-by to Sir Gay, bat he stood beside her, with his hat and umbrella in his hand. •O! Sir Ony, you are not—'

Sbe stopped, blushiug fariously. 'Not going homo with you? Yea, I am,' he answered, smiling. 'I am not even going to ask it 1 may.' 'Please do not come,' the said, imploringly. 'Mrs. Everett—'

Sbe stopped, unable to finish tbe sen* tence. 'Indeed I mast go,' he answered, resold tely. *Yoa are not fit to walk across this room even, and you think of walking alone, to-Springfield.'

Tbe tone of bis voice told ber, it would be useless to say anything mora ao she look tbe arm bo offered, aod walked be* side him, very pale and very quiet, till they reached the stately abode of the Everett* then Sir Gay aald, tenderly, *1

hope you are not uugry with me, Mlsa Linettt^' •No, I am not angry. Yon do not understand. You—you have been very kind.'

That waa all, except her low 'Goodnight,' as a servant opened the great door of the houw*.

The girl had twaroely reached her own room, when word was brought to her that Mrs. Everett required her presence, in the sitting room, imuiediateiy.

Alice found tbo elder iady alone, and the first remark addressed to ber was, 'Where have you been, Miss Linette?' 'The storm was so fearful that I stopped at Baddesley Hall.' 'With the housekeeper, I presume?'

There was color enough in the girl's cheeks, now. 'Idid not see the housekeeper, Mrs. Everett. I met Sir Guy Fleming, as I was hurrying through the laurel walk, and fe insisted on my go ing to the hall «itn him.' 'And you went!' in shrill crescendo. 'I had no choice, Mrs. Everett, there was no oth» slu iu i:ear.' 'What made you stay so long at Wroxley?' demanded rn. Everett. 'I did not reosaio Hi Wroxley one moment longer than v.necessary. I hurried all the way tb and ran most of tbe way coming back.' •Auti tired yourself so much that Sir Guy was obliged to walk home with you I suppose?'

The girl's lips quivered. 'I did not wish Sir Guy to come with me. I asked bim not to.'

Mrs. Everett drew herself up, and assumed as mqj.atic an appearance as pos sible, as she a ud, *1 «.m very sorry this" should have occurred, Miss Linette, but under present circumstances, I do not wish you to remain longer in my house.'

Alice looked at her in astonishment. 'Why, Mrs. Everett, what have I done?' 'A very foolish and imprudent thing, to say the least,' returned Mrs. Everett, severely. 'You had ample time to get back here beiore the storm but instead of that, you waited at Wroxiev, or somewhere else, and then came back by ltaddesley Hall, to try and see Sir Guy Fleming after what I told you last Ma}', too. I am surprised at you, Miss Linette.' 'So am I surprised, Mrs. Everett,' an swt-red Alice, with spirit, 'I did not believe any WOIKHU capable of uttering so wicked a lie as—'

Mrs. Everett started to her feet. 'Don't you dare to say another word to me. 'John will take your boxes to tbe station, intimef^r the seven o'clock train, to-morrow morning.'

Alice turned, aud walked toward the door, without a word she paused a moment on the thresbhold, at tbe sound of Mrs. Everett's voice. 'You have forfeited your quarter's salary, by your insolent remark,' said that lady. 'I'll hav6 you kuow that I am not to be talked to in tbat way,. Miss Linette.'

As the girl closed the door, Mrs. Everett returned to Lor seat, aud strove to calm her ruffled feelings. To tell the truth, she did not feel quite comfortable she had said rather more than she intended.

She wished to send Alice away :ig soon as possible, but she had hardiy taken the kindest method of so doin^. She had not at all liked the way she had seen Sir Guy Fleming look at Alice's sweet lace, Sunday after Sunday, in the old charch at Wroxley: for the excellent woman had discovered that it was not fair Miss Everett's blonde beauty that had so attracted the attention of the young baronet. She had no objection to her daughter being made Lady Fleming but Alioe Linette—May's governesshow absurd!

Tbe next morning, a little after eleven o'clock, Sir Guy Fleming stood before the door at Springfield, and asked to see Mrs. Everett. He was shown into the drawing room, to await her appearance.

She came in very soon, serene and stately. Yes, she was quite well Miss Everett also. Mr. Everett had not yet returned from London. It was a lovely morning. A fearful storm last night, etc, etc.

Then Sir Guy approached the object of his call. 'And Miss Linette, is she quite well after her last evening's fright?'

Mrs. Everett's pale blue eyes looked steadily at tbe dark, heavily bearded man, as she said, 'I did not kuow May's late governess bad suoii delicate nerves as to bo overcome with a storm.'

Sir Guy looked bis amazement.

1

'Is Miss Linette BO longer .prith you, Mrs. Everett?' 'No, indeed,' returned tbo lady. 'I sent her away this morning. I have been fai from satisfied with ber for some time, and lately her conduct has become quite unbearable.' •Where has Miss Linette gone?'asked Sir Guy, bluntly. •My dear Sir Guy,' answered Mrs. Everett, smiling sweetly upon him, 'I have not tbe slightest idea. It is impossible for one to keep track of all the servants and governesses one has to put up with for a time and then dismiss. 1 was very much disappointed in Miss Linette very much indeed,' she added, sighing.

Sir Guy controlled the hot Fleming temper in away that certainly did him credit, and soon after made his adieux, and departed.

He had intended to hatfe asked Mrs. Everett's permission to see Miss Linette, and then have pleaded his cause with the beautiful girl, and asked her to give him a husbaud's right to love and cherish her and now, bow was ho to find her?

Before many weeks, however, he bad solved this question, and to a quaint little cottage near Rossmere, where Alice Linette had found a refuge with the old woman, who bad been housekeeper at Eardley vicarage, in tbe days or Alice's sunny childhood, came a tall, broad shouldered man, who asked, in a quiet, matter of fact way, to see Miss Linette.

The old woman showed him into the little cottage parlor, where Alice was writing. •Sir Guy Fleming!' sbo exclaimed.

He weut to her, and took ber band, 'Are you sorry to see me, Miss Linette?' •Why should I be sorry?' she answered. 'But I was so surprised. Will you rftdown?' •Why did yon not tell me you were going away from Mrs. Everett's?' be asked, reproachfully. •I did not know it myself, when I saw you last, Sir Guy. Mrs. Everett was very angry, and—* The crimson cheeks and quivering lips told their own story. •May I tell you why I am here to-day?' was hM next question, certainly a tery innocent one. ,.

Alice Linette flushed and trembled as she bowed ber head in answer but I cannot tell why Sir Gay Fleming found it necessary to take ber tiny white hands in his broad palm, before he told her bis reason* for caking so momratoosa tour*ney as the fifty miles between Baddesley and Rossmere.

Sir Gay asked only one more question. What was his answer? How can I tell?

I only

know, tbat on a glorious Sab-

bath morning in October, Mrs. Everett, sitting erect and stately in ber grand pew in Wroxley church, saw, as In a vision,

Sir Gay Fleming walk proudly

up the aisle, and enter hts pew. Alone?

Certamlv not. There was a lady with bim. a slender little lady in robes of silvery gray, with downcast eyes, and goitlen bair gathered back from a beautiful, happy face. Aud Mrs. Everett recognized, in the bride, her daughter May's 'late governors.'

JtOAIANVie OF CRIME.

Terrible Vengcanee of a Woman Sceiyicd —A ^Supposed. Kival Hacked to Pieces in a Ball Room—Thrilling Pursuit,

Capture and Conviction of the Murderess. They are in the habit of hanging women down in Georgia. Susau Eberbart was banged in tbat state a year or two ago. Gov. Smith was plied with a great pressure to grant hsr pardon, and he. refused to do it. So Susan was launched into eternity in the presence of ten or twelve thousand people—as many as could crowd in sight of the ghastly spectacle. Another Georgia woman now under sentence of death, and Gov. Colquitt will have the case wrestle with for some months. This case has a still stronger interest to press

upon

the pardoning power than that o~ poor Susan Eberhart, and is now creat ing intense excitement all over th state. The women of Georgia are unan imous lor the coudemned, and w" leave nothing that they can do to s._ complish their design of saving the woman from the rope. The feeling they exhibit does their sex credit.

ill

Tbe case is exceedingly dramatic from first to last. There is a family oi Southerns in Pickens, one of the mountain counties of Northern Georgia. There were several boys—all brave, sturdy mountaineers, but Bob Southern was the flower of the flock. He was the king of athletic sports among bis iellows, and the favorite of the mountain belles roundabout. Every girl appeared to want him all to her self, and all did their best to get bim, Among these mountain families was one named Hambright —prosperous farmers. Kate Hambright was the acknowledged belle of the district. She was a beautiful,tall brunette, and bad a strain or genuiue Indian blood in he»veius. There is uo doubt that-Kate Hambright loved Bob Southern, and wanted him as badly as the other girls did, and there is no doubt that he loved her better than any of the rest. The fact is, he had his pick and choice of all the mouutain maidens, and all the boys were in love with Kate, giving her the same margin of selsction. That was but one boy among them all that ahe bad any doubt about her ability to capture and keep all to herself, and that was Bob Southern. His popularity had made him a 'flirt.' There was but one woman that Kate Hambright feartd and her name was Mrs. Narclssa Cowart—a plump blonde and pretty. She had got a divorce from her husband, as she afterward said, for the sole purpose of marrving Bob Southern. Bob was not insensible to her beauty and blandishments. He treated her with marked favor whenever he met her, which was often in tbe rambles among the mountains. But Kate Hambright finally won. She was married to Bob Southern in the latter part of the year 1876. But even atter Bob's marriatie to Kate, Narcissa would not give him up. Neither was he cured sfbis flirting propensities, and she encouraged his attentions more than ever. Bob and Narcissa took soli­

tary

walks, and lonely rambles in the woods. Kate became miserable with her prizn. She expostulated, coaxed, reasoned and tried to win him wholly iu vain. H.e laughed at ber fears of 'that woman,' Hsshe called Narcissa, and told her bow she was a little 'goose.' But Katrt was desperately, wildly in love, and she became madly jealous. Her love WHS the love of a tigress nurtured in

those

Southern hills. Her jeal­

ousy wast such a love's natural outgrowth. During tbe Christmas holidays of 1876 her father gave a party at his bouse in honor of the young couple. The rules of mouutain hospitality required that he should invito ali his neighbors, and Mrs. Narcissa Oowart among tnem. Of course sbe came, and Kate's pleasure was gone. She tried to make her bus band promise not to danoe with her. He teased her and wpuld not promise. Kate then humbled herself by goiug to Narcissa in tbe dressing room, bolora the ball commenced, aud begging her not to come between husband and wife not to encourage him, and not to dance with him if bo asked her. Narcissa replied 'What if I do part man and wife —was I not divorced for his sake? I shall dance with Mr. Southern to-night in spite of his wife.' Little consolation there. Narcissa swept into the ballroom and Kate sat and thought. When the dance was about to commence Kate went into the ball room and saw her husband and Mrs. Cowart preparing to dance as partners at the bead of a set. Kate hurried up and reminded Bjb tbat be had engaged to dance that set with her. Mrs. Cowart replied that she intended dancing that set with Mr. Southern. Tbe dance commenced and the wife walked away. She went outside and watched them through the window until tbe dance was nearly done. Kate then went to ber father in a room adjoining the ball room, and borrowed his pocket knife, saying she wanted to pare her nails. She hastened into the ball room and reached the couple just as the set wa9 over. She caught rs. Cowart by the arm, and saying, 'You have danced enough,' plunged tbe knife into bar shoulder, severing an artery. She then slashed "that woman" across tbe left breast, tbe blade cutting through the uptJer portion of the heart. Mrs. Cowart fell dead on the floor, aud spoke no word. Kate jumped on her body and ripped open ber abdomen, and would have out her all to pieces If some one less terror stricken than the rest bad not cried out 'Who killed this woman?' Kate Southern rose np and said: '1 killed that woman, and I ought to have done it long ago.' Then one of the floor managers forbade any one to leave the room until tbe matter could ba investigated. At this Bob Southern, who had been standing by, because a man. Stepping up to Kate, putting one arm around her, drawing pistol with tbe other and pointing to tbe doorway blocked with people he said: 'We are going oat that door if I have to shoot oar way throngb.' And ont the door tbe couple went unhindered, leaving tbe company to take oare of the wreck of the ball room. Thus Bob Southern and his wife and his brother, who joined them at tbe door, darted from tbe boose and shot oat into the night. They left tbe state in disguise and made their way safely to Marlon county. North Carolina, where they engaged in forming and lived happily for a year. Hera a child was born to them, which to now about six months old. At length they resolved to move Went, and started with their effects in a wagon. One account says they were going back to Georgia to give themselves up for trial another explains that their intention was to elade pursuers who had tracked them to their South Carolina retreat. Be this as It may, tbey were on the road whep they were surrounded and captured by a band of

horsemen armed with rifles, one dark rainy night, and escorted back to Pickens county, Georgia. Father and mother and child were locked in one cell. Tbe charge was murder, and the trial is just concluded. Kate was taken out for trial alone—carrying her child. The case caused intense excitement, and the court room was full of the relatives and friends of both families. Tbe unconscious little one played with its mother's ribbons and rings and smiled on the ghastly proceedings. There was deep 83 mpathy for that young mother in all present except the jury. The father of Narcissa Uowart was In the court room most of the time, and towards the close of tbe trial seemed to sympathize with Kate as much as anyone. No one thought there could be a conviction— Kate least of all. She was cheerful until the jury brought in a verdict of 'guilty.' Then her face fell, and she wept and moaned orer her babe. She went back to ber cell and her husband with the sentence of death upon her. What a pitiful scene must have been there, behind the bolts and bars.

Kate Southern is sentenced to be hanged on tbe 2lst«f Juue. A.motion for a new trial will be made. If the judge does not grant It, and it is doubtful if be will, the case will then go to the supreme court on a bill of exceptions. This will be about the latter part of September or the first of Octooer. If the supreme court affirms the verdict, the prisoner will be resentenced to be executed between thirty aud sixty days from the date of the resentence. It is now discovered that Mrs. Southern is enciente, and her time will come about the latter part of October or first of November. The case derives a more horrible interest from this fact. But the laws of the state expressly declare that no woman shal] be banged while in this condition. Under all tbe circumstances it is hoped and believed that executive clemency will interpose its hand to save this woman and two lives. There is a sensational interest all over Georgia in the outcome of this peculiar case.

A Campaign SUndcrjj ^,'. When Dr. R. V. Pierce was a candidate for State Senator, his political opponents published a pretended analysis of his popular medicines, hoping thereby to prejudice tbe people against him. His election by an overwhelming majority severely rebuked bis traducers, who sought to impea his business integrity. No notice wonld have been taken of these campaign lies were it not that some of his enemies (and every successful business man lias his full quota of envious rivals) are republishing these bogus analysis. Numerous and most absurd formulas have been published, purporting to come from high authority and it is a significant fact tbat no two have been nt all nllke—conclusively proving tbe dishonesty of their authors. •fefofoat J,i I?

A CABD.

To all who afe suffering from the errors and iudiscretlonsof youth, nervous weakness, early decay, loss of manhood, etc., I will Hcndl a recipe that will cure you, FREE OF OIIARUE. This great remedy was discovered by a missionary in South America. Send a self-addressed envelope to the REV. Josrcrii T. INMAN, Station D, Bible House, New York City. Oct28-ly

wmm --v.'

I

TARAXINE

.i

,ii i'Mi

S

Is entirely a Vegetable Compound Wis main Ingredient la tho medicinal principle of Dandelion in a chemical solution. It is no compound of bad whisky, bat a medicine. The most delicntu person can take 11.

3 in) r.tt ii

TARAXINE

IK

Is particularly recommended lor Dyspepsia and Indigestion. It acts more perfectly than any medicine ever discovered, on the entire system of the digestive organs. It removes from them all manner of obstructlons ttlmulates them to natural and vlg orous action, tones up and strengthens their nerves, aud gives new energy nnd life to the bloods ying them.

.f,

H\9

TARAXINE

'Vfii

t#

By Us specific action on the Liver, Is admirably adapted for habitual Constipation or Costivencss. It never falls to bring the Liver to action. It is particularly recommended to ladies, as it is mild and pleasant In its action.

For Bale

i'

TARAXINE

Should be used In all cases of Chronic Agn. it never talis to cure it." Derangement of tbe Liver, Stomach and Bowels Is the chief cause of this distressing disease. TABAXINI?, by its action on Liver, Stoifiaeh and Bowels, removes the cause of the disease/- 't

by

sll Druggists.

A. KIEFER, Prop'r

I 0DU1IAPOL1§. 8old at wholesale in Terre Haute, by GULICK A BERRY,

E. H. BINDLEY, COOK fc BELL.