Huntsville gazette., 1886-06-19

woman, the bright colors of her tignon
conspicuous even in the cleaning.
The family, wearied with long vigils,
had retired after dinner to take little
rest before their night watches should
commence, and the old n1anaan was
Left alone with her master, Once in
while the thin, sleepy song of the mos
quito, the first of the season, started
the fan going with more energy, and
then as it died away the nurse would
relapse into semi-comatose state, her
eyes fixed on the sick man. He made
no motion, even his nostrils seemed no
more to contract or dilate with his
respirations. A predatory dragon fly,
called by the children mosquito
hawk had drifted in through the
blinds and was rustling his tissue paper
wings against the ceiling, making quite
the chamber
Presently there was the sound OF a
footstep on the front gallery. 1t came
closer as the visitor moved down the
great hallway. The intruder seemed
to hesitate as he approached the sick
mans room. This was, however, but
short, for with slow, unsteady move
ment the knob turned and the door
opened. With bloodshot eyes and
bloated face, there stood the cause of
all this domestic sorrow. He had ad-
vanced several PAGES into the room be-
fore the nurse recognized him. She
Immediately arose and went to him.
She begged he would not awaken the
sleeping invalid. She pleaded with
him to withdraw, but without avail.
He had come for money, he said. and
he would not leave without it. He had
suffered long enough in the city,
whilst all at home reveled in luxury.
He needed money. and money he would
have. Pushing aside the negro woman
he went to the bedside. His father
made no movement at his approach.
The young man looked down at the
thin, emaciated figure, SO unlike the
portly, soldierly man be had known.
Steadying himself by the bedpost, in
stammering voice the sun addressed
his father: "See here! I've stood this
thing as long as | am going to. I'm
entitled to money from you and / am
going to get it. Are you going to give
me someP That's what 1 want to
know. Yes or nor
The son gazed down in the fathers
face, but no answer came.
Il want an answer. l allow no one
to refuse to answer me. Do you hear?"
Still there was no answer.
"Then take that" A sharp, quick
slap resounded through the house.
The cheek that received it did not tin
gle, nor did it flush under the stinging
insult. The young man eyed the
sleeper as a hawk would its prey.
Then there came over his face deadly
pallor, and staggering away from the
bed he muttered: my God, he's
dead" The nurse shrieked to alarm
the household. Then there was confu-
sion in the hall. Servants were run
ming about distraught. Every body
was calling on every body else to go
for the doctor. Pale faces and half
clothed forms rushed down the corri-
dor. Etienne Riviere sought to make
his way out, but was confronted by his
mother and sisters. 1t was a pitiful
scene. With downcast eyes he stood
before them and the nurse told what
she had witnessed. No one opposed
his going then. All shrank from him
and he found his way open to the
door. AS he skunk down the front
steps the old nurse followed him, Civ
ing full vent to her indignation and
horror in profuse maledictions.
"Leave!" said she. $50! and suffer
all your days. That hand that struck
dead father will wither at your side.'
In the vocabulary of her negro Creole
patois. she could find no terms strong
enough to express her feelings, and so
with sweeping motion of her arm
she drove the unnatural son from the
house.
Never was such a funeral cortege
seen on the right bank of the Missis-
sippi river. Hundreds of friends from
New Orleans, delegations from neigh
boring parishes, troops of the poor who
had received aid from the hands of the
lamented dead, followed the hearse
McDonoghville. 1t was day of sor-
row in many households, and when the
dead was laid away the sobs of hun
dred slaves in chorus Of lamentation
broke upon the ear, so weird and wild
few could restrain their feelings. Those
who were present say that few such
scenes were ever witnessed.
1t would be unpleasant to chronicle
much of the career of Et.enne Riviere.
But one fact, which of itself is some
what remarkable if only as a coinci-
denee, is necessary to tell. For two
years after his fathers death he re-
manned sober, and seemed to be re-
solved to lead better and truer life.
Finding work with well-known
house-painter in New Orleans, he
worked faithfully for two seasons, when
he was stricken down by lead-poison-
ing. Partial paralysis set in and his
right hand, shrunken, shriveled rem
nant, withered away. The prediction
of the old nurse was fulfilled to the
letter. The hand that had smitten
dead fathers cheek became useless
burden to the remorseful son.-Chas.
E.. Whitney, in N. 0. Times Democrat.
Bold Mexican Brigands.
A band of robbers, dressed as Indi.