DeSoto times. (Hernando, Miss.) 1879-1898, 1890-10-16

| 0 iah' uhe perpetrat0r oi
the fatal joke, was the first to sneak
after the futile attempts were aban
doned. Coming forward, he caressed
the cold, calm face with his toil-worr
palm, and exclaimed "An shure OF
only meant to taze him a little, an
Orve kilt i'm intoirely! Oh shall be re
pintin' Nv it till me heart is broke"
The men looked furtively at one an
other as McCorman staggered to cor
ner, sat down and covered his face
with his stained hands.
Ills friends?" suggested one; bu'
not man knew any thing of the dead
mans affairs.
His belongings were searched for q
a clew as to his relatives, but their re.
ward was meager, for only portion oi
a letter was brought to light, and in
this missiye, written in fine feminine
hand, the writer had addressed the de.
ceased Dear st. Fleur," only.
"Was it mother, sister, or sweet.
heart" they questioned, sadly.
"Swateheart most loikely,' moaned
Tory McCorman, "fur ye see-she writ
the dear 'thout the brother or SON a
rilative wud bo after putin to it. An
Olive kilt her too, woe be the day.
After the burial every one seemed to
reverence tho name of st. Fleur, and
the lonely grave under the weeping will.
lows had been faithfully and tenderly
watched. And one day TORY McCor-
man carved the name of St. Fleur on a
rough pine slab and put it at the head
of the grave, with the remark that
"twould be 'nuff aisier to pint than to
tell the whole ov it." Little did he
realize then what he did afterward, that
the telling ov it," would be moro sor-
rowful and tragical than ever his great
Irish heart had believed.
In early autumn came a beautiful,
balmy day, and with it the closing feat
ures of the incident as related to me-
The sun had almost set, when carriage
drove up the rugged road and stopped
at the lumbermen's hut.
A fair young girl, neatly clad, alight-
ed and came forward expectantly. Pres
emily Tory McCorman's face became
ghastly, and he whispered with whito
lips: God help me; it's her as writI"
He grasped his hat and hurried out of
the rear entrance, disappearing instant
ly in the gloom.
She had by this time stepped inside
the hut, and, in a gay tone, said:
"Good-evening, gentlemen. Is st.
Fleur Fuller In? Is this his abodc?"
AS the questions fell from her lips each
one of the group uttered an exclamation
of panied surprise. Then all eyes fell
ON the expectant, but somewhat fright
ened, face of the girl before them, but
what man of them could utter syllable
concerning the death of ''Prince Ear
nest?"
She saw that something was woefully
wrong instantly by tho panied, hushed
expression on each mans face.
"Oh, speak-what is it; tell me what
has happened to him and where is hep"
she cried, nervously clasping her gloved
hands and gazing at the proprietor with
an attitude pitiable to see.
With blanched face William Stanhopo
answered in low, unsteady tones
''Madam, suppose St. Fleur is very i'll
-,
"Oh, take me to him, then-quicklyl"
she interrupted, with quivering lips
"Please take me; he needs mel"
Not man stirred, but every eye was
fixed on the proprietor, and every ear
strained to catch his reply.
Madam" he began, in husky,
faltering accent, Madam, if St. Fleur
could not recover?"
"Oh, are you mad? In Heaven s
name take me to him-I beg of you not
to say such cruel things" she answered,
imploringly.
"St. Fleur is dead-dead and buriedw
The words came slow, as if the weight
of each one was fatal burden to him.
His tones were strange and unnatural.
Stunned by this terrible intelligence,
she gazed at him vacantly for few
moments; then deathly pallor swept
over her features 'as she slowly COM
pretended what his words meant.
Each one present feared for her
reason, and the horror deepened as she
kept repeating to herself: Dead, dead,
St. Fleur dead" No tears came to her
relief, and not a soul present could
bring himself to offer one word of sym
pathy as she stood there, repeating the
fateful words: "Dead, dead, dead!"
Suddenly wild cry proceeded from the
girl, and she fell prostrate at the feet
of the proprietor.
With the silent assistance of the men
she was quickly restored to conscious
ness. The dry, hot eyes glared for an
instant about her, then she walled
pathet;cally: 'Take me where you
have buried him. must see him once
more-I can not bear it-oh, oh!'
Gently supported by two of the men,
they led her away, out along the moon
Lit shore, for the moon had risen and
her gentle beams fell lovingly on the
rugged mound and its little rough slab,
turning the letters of the name 81
Fleur to beautiful silvery hue
Presently the agonized nourner
stretched out her hands over the CLINT
ing waters by the side of the grave, ana
cried in tone of despair, never to be
forgotten by the listeners: "oh, cruel
cruel waves! to rob me of my hearts
hest and dearest! Oh, st. Fleur, st.
Fleur! Ha, ha, ha! Mono, he Is not