The Russellville Democrat., 1880-09-23
HIS WORD Oe HONOR.

The Green Dragon" at Orpinpton assuming to be an inn, was really little more than wayside public house. Mir Hunter, landlord and proprietor. wa. therefore not little surprised and fur ried when, upon raw October alter noon. young man having great coat over his arm, light bag in one hand and stick in the other, presented him. self at the bar of the Green Dragon , and asked languidly if he could be ac. commodated with a bed and sitting room.
 "A bed, sir2" replied Mir. Hunter, a big man, with a red face and gray hair ives think we can manage to give ou bed"
 And sitting room?"
 "A sitting room," echoed the landlord in the tone of one who is considering some great undertaking; lone minute, if you please, ST."
 And MT. Hunter disappeared into the little room immediately adjoining the bar there to hold counsel with some second person, the upshot being that in few minutes Mrs. Hunter, Miss Hunter and few Hunters just out of the crawl ing state, issued forth, bearing respec. HlNGlN WOIhiliE lildttildiS, SDihS III DGO- cess of being mended, tin whistles and decapitated dolls.
 You can have this room all to your self, sir" said Mr. Hunter, triumph antly.
 You really must not let me disturb you" rejoined the traveller.
 Don't you mention it." replied the landlord in tone which was at once genial and confidential. "We would not turn a customer away from our doors. You sec we do not have much parlor company"
 And this is the only room you have that is disengaged?"
 "WelI, yes, sir; this is the only room at present-Susan! coals for the gentle mans fire."
 The traveller having, as he thought, shown due amount of consideration for the comfort of Mrs. Hunter and the young Hunters, was glad enough to en- ter the apartment before alluded to, and to draw close to the fire the one dilapi- dated arm chair.
 Arthur Seton, barrister by profession, and literary by choice, was not really more than thirty, though he looked con- siderably older; for the dark hair and beard were streaked with gray, and the face. with it's regular. handsome features, wore habitually a look of such intense mental weariness as would have sadden- ed the most hopeful man had he looked on it for long.
 For seme time he leaned indolently back. his hands clasped behind his head; at length he rose and took from his bag locked-up diary. which he opened, and availing himself of pens and ink which stood upon the table, made the following entry:
 "Oct. F, 1874 --cot up late. Called on the Brainstones; George was out. Had pleasant chat with Annie; went, like fool, to Richmond, and, like a fool, haunted the Well House. It looked just the same as in the old, dear days, but heard children playing in the gar den. The house is let, ] believe. to city people. Came back to London; dined at the Pail Mall; went to the club. Got back to the Chambers late. Wrote a column - Review A weary, weary day. Shall never, never know a mo- ment's forgetfulness~
 He drew then from the leaves of the diary letter written in delicate femi- nine hand, and addressed. Arthur Sc. ton, Esq, i2 Gray's Inn" ThIs letter he regarded with a long, sad, loving look: then, resting his head on his hand he read it through very slowly. It ran as follows:--
 "Mr DEAR ARTHUR;-If you will be SC suspicious, so jealous and exacung, cannot see how we are ever to be happy Faith without works is dead, and love without faith is no blessing, but weary burden. am tired of cross words ano looks. Some women, believe, like the feverish excitement of quarrels, but only wish for peace. This miserable petty jealousy is quite unworthy of you Do try and put 1t from you; and remem' Der that love, once wounded, is some times hurt past hope of recovery. l re ceiyed your article quite safely, but cannot speak about it now. You have made me too sad, too weary, and even { little indignant. Yours, affectionately,
 "ALIcE CLAREPIELD,'
 He replaced the letter, closed tht diary, took up his pipe and began slnok ing. The early part of this day haC been fine and mild, but toward the after noon the sky grew all at once leaden aud the wind shifted to the northeast Now the wind was rising anti the raiI was ialling--a cold, penetrating, impetu ous, determined rain. The country which but brief while slDce had look ed so fair in the bland October sunlight now seemed thing to shadder at. Ih' dun-colored woods, wet and forlorn seemed to have no hope of any return ing summer, and to know the utter desc laton of the end It was impossi ble t imagine that in the green, soaking held where now few cows are huddled to gether and lowing dIsconsolateiy, gla. children could ever have tossed eacl other in the warm, sweet-smelnng hay the rain beat drearily against the wln dow and the wind sbrieked around tn house, and occasionally thundered in tn chimney; and at the bar, in spite of tn wet weather, Mir. Hunter seemed to D doing brisk business. for ale cork popped continuously, and pewters clank ed audibly as the men set them dow on the slab; and the great wagons lun bered by. or drew up ponderousiy front of fife door; and while the driver ayailed themselves of the Green Dral .on's" hospitality the large, broad-packe horses beat the miry roads With heav