, 1888-10-21

costume, with his proud young figure
drawn mp to it's fullest height and in his
eyes that look of courage, Of determine
ton, Of victory.
Goose 1 knowed Marse Phil wuz a hand
some man" jeff always said in speaking
of that day, "but l never see dat look on
his face agin till l see him chargin up de
hill on Black Bess in de face of the can
nor, wild his soad in one hand en- de flag
in de yuther. Hit mex me think bout de
day Of the tournament right away, en-
God knows hit warnt no time to be thinkin
bout home den."
Well, it was only a moment Marse Phil
sat there motionless on his horse, and
then he and Black Bess were speeding
around the ring as lightly and smoothly
as a bird sweeps in circles.
"God, how he ridesl" a man exclaimed
under his breath. 81 wouldn't give that
for Edwards chances" with a contempt
uous nap of the fingers; but JEFF, who
has heard, n who in the excitement has
pushed his way up to the railing that
shuts in the track, JEFF only groaned, for
he has just caught sight of pretty Polly,
her face white with suppressed anxiety,
leaning far over from the grand stand,
and he remembers what a hindrance her
presence used to be at the practice in the
blue grass meadow.
"Marse Pills des fool enough to lose
de race count of some foolishness bout
her" he said to himself. He can only
trust Marse Pills eyes are elsewhere than
on the grand stand. Already twice has
he strung every ring on his lance. He
has only once more to take with his IN
erring hand the ten more rings that pro-
claim hin vistor. There is a moments
pause, and then, with the crash of the
opening bars of music, Marse Phil is away
threading his lance through the rings
at the mares best gait. A third of the
way aroundl Half of the way aroundl
JEFF breathes easier. Marse Phil is OPP
posite to the grand stand when he chances
up to meet Polly's eyes fixed on him, so
full of pride and love and joy, he loses his
head a little. What wonder2 poor fellow.
1t does not take a quarter of a second
scarcely, but in that time Polly snatches
off her arm a bracelet set thick with shin
ing stones and throws it right before
Black Bess' flying feet. Quick as the act
is, it is not quicker than loves intuition,
and in another instant Marse Phil has
strung his trophy on the lance and is talk
ing the last ring from the hook 1t was
gallantly done Thu crowd cheered itself
hoarse; but the timekeeper from the
judges stand called:
"Twenty-one ~Secondsl"
JEFF stumbled away from the scene
daZed and tnfuriatnd. He had so counted
on success and Mar Phil had thrown it
away in the very H. lent of victory for a
woman's within. 30 hung his head as he
led Black Bess back to the stables, and
when he heard the shouts that saluted
Capt. Edwards victory he laid his head
down on the mares neck and sobbed for
disappointment. But Marse Phil had none
of the signs of defeat about him as he
made his way to where pretty Polly, as
duskily red as a June rose, was awaiting
his coming. What was it she was saying
under cover of all the noise and ~confusion2
"You WON
And Marse Phil in answer to the look in
her eyes finished the sentence
my Queen of Love and Beauty"
For the sake of beauty's eyes he had
lost the prize, but the management of the
tournament sent him, in recognition of
his superb Workmanship, the slender,
ewerlike pitcher that still stands on the
sideboard at Woodstock. That was the
last tournament. Before another golden
autumn rolled around, the tempest of
war had broker over the land, and the old
south, theo old, careless, idle, happy south
had ceased to be.-Elizabeth NJ. Gilmer in
New Orleans Picayune.