The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-11-13
By HORSLEY BROS. & FIGUERS,

flower which gave it its name.
There is taste of mustiness about
it, and an ancient look" remarked nv
friend, as he unrolled manuscript j
handed him.
| "Well, there might be-" replied his
sister. 1T is snatched from the haunts
of goblins-but let us hear it"
A piece of paper fluttered to the
ground, as the pages were unrolled. II
read:
November 10, 1870. Will this sheet
ever moldP 1t is pleasant to hope
that it may be read when the writer is
incorporated with mold. Read nv
story and learn to guard the heart and
control the passions. r. S."
Seating ourselves on a bank of wild
flowers the manuscript was begun.
can eye for an eye. A tooth for a
tooth-Holy. I am an invalid, waiting
for life's thread to snap. The present
is mixture of hope, memory, the fu-
ture. and reality. Hope results in dis
appointment memory in dissatisfac-
ton the future is vague, while reality
Is fruition. Imagination is false, for it
| garnishes barren hills with verdure /:
transforms face of ugliness to one of
beauty; makes a miserly relative a gem
erous donor; pictures yourself more
perfect than the whispers of conscience,
and causes the hopeful heart sadness.
| will not deal with it. What write is
reality. 1t is hard to bid adieu to the
old gables and the arched gateway, in
| doubt that one may see them again, not
from age, not from the necessity of a
long absence, but from the certainty
that you are chased by disease at which
| physicians shake their heads but mutter
hope.
Z" I had been upon the road several
days before anything of interest aroused
me from my depression. Passing a
dwelling, whose neat appearance attract
ed my attention, the notes of pecu-
liarly plaintive song attracted me. I
| fifst refined my horse and then, dis
mounting, followed a winding walk,
adorned on either side with simple
| flowers, to the open door. I had been
noticed and was met by young man
who cordially bade me enter.
"'W We were singing a song I learned
at sea, of which my sister is quite fond,
but we shall be glad for an Interrupt
tion.' 1t was the introduction of an i'm
portant sequence, and the story which
follows.
host, and narrator, became, in the early
years of his marriage, entangled in
wild dissipation with a neighbor's son,
Dick Perry. Their recklessness in
creased until the murder of q wealthy
planter in the township made their
flight necessary, and neither had ever
returned. The exertions of Justice
proved futile, and with the lapse of
years the supposition gathered strength
that by some other means retribution
had come upon the fugitives."
My friend, who had been reading the
manuscript, exclaimed "T we'll re-
member, my grandfather once related
this very tale to me. His description
of Lavender was that of a very hand
some man, of fine figure and of a pre-
possessing air. I cannot recall the de-
tails, but the son and daughter here
spoken of were very fortunate in inher-
iting large estate quite strangely.
My old sire made a moral, and, while
upon his knee and staring into his
wrinkles, / was warned from evil COM
pany and the haunts of the enemy"
The manuscript was resumed:
There is no silver in my lOcks-and
never will be. The worm has his mort
gage upon them and he is already after
a foreclosure. Recorded pharmaco-
pOsia' has not sufficient knowledge to
deter the grim bearer of the hour
glass. He knows it, and so do I. For
months I have been absent from the
gables. I have retured, patched up
merely. Quid facjeadaGD1 2"
AT this point the manuscript had evi-
IDENTIFY been laid away, for the remain
der was traced in different ink and by
feebler hand. 1t opens again with
the same quaint repinings.
Life has queer findings. The one
who interests you to-day is gone to-
morrow and forever, while the partner
of an old life-game turns up suddenly
to confront you with tedious memories
Oftener than with agreeable recollec-
tions. Earnest yearnings are rarely re-
allied, but they have been once with
me. The candOr of my host, Lavender,
and his sad experience created an in !
terest and a sympathy which was, years |
later, revived intensely. I was again |
compelled to seek the rortb, and had
fixed a temporary abode in one of the |
pleasant villages of an eastern state. |
Among the few acquintances I formed |
was that of an eminent judge, who was
at that time presiding at the trial of a
wretch committed for arson and mur-
der. He was particularly noticeable,
in persona deep, rich
voice, fine dark eye, and hair sprinkled
with silver. He lived in elegant style,
as / can attest, at his place called Man
grove Hall, without a wife, and child
less. His card read, Poinset Telfair.
AT the breakfast table, the last day
of the exciting trail, was agreeably
surprised to recognize my old friend
Lavender. He had Just arrived, in
quest of tarrying place for the ST ason.
at once determined him
to remain with me. The pending case
at the courthouse, in which had be-
come much interested, was the topic of
discourse, and Lavender was induced
to be present with me at its conclusion.
GAS we seated ourselves among the
eager spectators, Judge Telfair passed
in with elastic step, an air of calm dig
nifty, admirable in ripe manhood,
Lavender whispered enthusiastically
: What a lord =
"The case was given TO the jurors
verdict murder in the first degree
q The prisoner will stand !" said the
Judge. 1T is a solemn charge, the
sentence of death None should
receive it but the atrociously guilty
just and righteous laws have been en-
acted to prevent convicted felons even
from inequitable decisions. The bene-
fit of these laws has been your claim
and privilege. Weary days have been
in this unwelcome duty of
finding you beyond the mercy of man,
and now it is incumbent upon me to
make this finding fearfully exacting.
Before l pronounce the dread sentence,
let me urge your most serious attention
TO the awful fate that awaits you, and
for what crime? In the dead of night,
when innocence sleeps and none but the
plotter of evil seeks work, you entered
a harmless household and sent an I'M
soul swiftly to the judg-
ment. applying the torch to cover the
horrid deed. You are soon to stand
before an offended Deity, with stains
of blood so deep that none but AL
mighty God can wash them out. Let
your time be improved in reconciliation
with that Being you have so desper-
ately Knocked =
An awful stiffness shut down upon
that crowded room. Yet upon the face
of the prisoner was villainous sneer,