The Russellville Democrat., 1880-05-20
A STORY OF THE GAMING TABLE.

'Red winsW
 It was the croupier's hoarse cry. again and again reiterated, only diversified with that of "Red losesl" which broke the stiffness in the superbly appointed room at Hamburg, with the gaming table in it's center, round which were gathered its eager votaries, behind whom were the scarcely less interested groups of lookers-on.
 Come away, my dear," said very lovely woman among the spectators, in whisper to her husband. T am sorry that we came. This is no place for Pearl" indicating with nod of the head as she spoke, an exquisitely beautiful girl, scarcely more than child, of some twelve or thirteen summers, who stood beside them.
 "Come, Pearl" the father said.
 But the girl stood entranced, her eyes fixed upon mans face seated at the furthest end of the table. It was a strikingly handsome face, even when wearing as it now did, the expression ot calm born of desperation. No tinge of color was either in cheek or lip.
 His eyes shone with a strange and hard glitter and were fixed upon the balls as they were swung round, as though on the color uppermost hung his hope of life or death.
 And so it was. He had sat down pos sessed of fortune; he arose beggar! Fate had steadily pursued him with mocki lg hopelessness, until he had placed his last stake, only to see 1t mer- cilessly swept from him.
 He half rose from the table. What more was to be done save to go out somewhere into the still night air and send bullet through his heart or brain. It was at this moment the girl, with flushed cheeks and half-parted lips, darted up to his side.
 "Take this," she pleaded, "for my sake" and pressed gold piece into his cold hand
 He turned To his excited imagina- ton she seemed scarcely mortal in her pure, childlike loveliness. His first im- pulse was to return her offering-he was not yet an alms-taker--but again rang out the croupiers cry of command to place the stakes.
 The child stood breathless in her eager expectancy, her eyes burning with te' verish interest.
 sudden impulse overmastered him. Without speaking word he placed the gold upon the table.
 The next minute a small pile of gold was at his elbow. He staked it all again. Again he won. A bright spot of scarlet replaced the palor in his cheek. which spread and deepened as Dame Fortune, who had so consistently frowned upon him, now reserved for him only her smiles. Morning was breaking when he arose from the tables, no longer a desperate man, but with his fortune threefold re- stored to him.
 After his first winning he had turned to restore to the child her offering, but she had vanished. Should he ever find her-ever repay the debt? He knew not; bet standing at last under the, clear blue sky, with great weight lifted from his heart and brain, Harold Clayton vowed that it should be his life search, but that the lesson taught him should never be forgotten, and the gaming table should know him nevermore. Six years passed, and Harold Clayton was winning name and fame in his own land ill his profession as an artist.
 Standing one night ill a crowded as sembly, someone in passing touched him lightly on the arm with her fan, and glancing round he met the smiling face of his hostess.
 "Come," she said, 'I want to present you to my belle. Ii you can prevail upon her to give you a sitting, and trans fer her coloring to canvas, you will ren der yourself immortal.'
 Is she, then, so beautifulT' he ques tioned.
 Judge for yourself" she lightly re i... tgs Ia. ing homage to the fair4girl in its center
 Miss RayDurn-Mr. Clayton" were tke formal words of the introduction, ai Harold bowed an acknowledgement be fore the woman whom his artistic eyt confessed the most beautiful that ill all bis wanderings he had met.
 Before the evening was ended ht might have added. the first woman whom he had ever loved, since she hac awakened in him an interest as new al it was strange.
 Through the next week her face haunted him. Then they met again and the charm grew and deepened. He could not define it; away from Miss Ray burn he was restless and uneasy, unti he again found himself within the scope of her facination.
 Yet her nature remained an enigmi to him. Although so young in years, S beautiful in form and eature she seemed cold even to haughtiness, reticent almos to scorn.
 It was as though some exquisite marbl statue had risen in his pathway, whicl might some day warm into life.
 She welcomed him whenever they me with a manner which, while it gave hin no cause for complaint, yet chilled tn hope springing within his breast.
 One day, on going to her home, tn servant met him at the door with the an nOuncement that she was very Ill. Thi knowledge brought other knowledge- the fact that he could no longer concea from himself that he loved her, and tha on the hope of his winning her hung hi lies happiness.
 He went back to his studio, wretcheC and despairing, and seated himself q the easel. He had not meant to pain her hce-his brain seemed unconciou of his fingers toil-yet, when the morn