The age-herald., 1900-10-28

~ N A SUMMER afernootn in the H M Land of the Sky girl was walk NU ing on mountain path that led O to a cliff. She walked in an ab- sent-minded way, taking little heed of roll ing stones which lay in the path watching their chance to sprain an ankle. She was familiar with the path. having trod it often, and instinctively her feet sought and found firm ground. She had been born and raised in the mountains, and paths that would have daunted a city-bred maid were con sidered by her as a matter of no moment
 The girl was young, but not beautiful Any casual passer-by would have seen this at a glance. She was, moreover, badly dressed. Her appearance told plainer than words that her days had been passed many miles from city. There was no touch of fashion about her; of the vanity of dress she possessed lttle Hers had been a life free from social frills and furbelows, flutes and founces. Yet in spite of it all, her lack of beauty, her careless dress, she pos sessed a power of fascination which often goes with an ugly face and is lacking in a pretty one
 She was of good ancestry. Her father was a country doctor, a man of education and some wealth. She also was well edu- cated, in the usual sense, but a finishing school had never put its mark upon her. Life to her was a serious matter-love also. She was woman that would love well and but once.
 This fate had already befallen her. She was then on her way to a rock on the cliff, where she expected to meet her lover. She was har upward, and her eyes, too, instead of fol- lowing the path; were gazing upwards to- wards Mount Pizgah, whose loftly dome could be seen dimly outlined through the mist of a summer cloud.
 Three miles from the highway running south from Asheville, on knob command ing wide view of the French Broad Val ley and reached by a private mountain road, stood an old house in a mellow state of decay. The sun had robbed it of every bit of paint the wind had carried off most of the window blinds, the earth had routed the front steps and general air of melan- choly hung over the place. The once beautiful lawn was a mattede tangle of grass; but so gradual had been this decay that the owners seemed oblivious to it, and carried their heads as high and stepped as proudly as in the days when the house glistened with paint and all things were not as they then were.
 
 In the midst of life we are in death.
 Nothing is so commonplace, yet withal so sad, and the dying of house, the pas sage from wealth to poverty of family, is as sad as the actual death of one of Its members. To stand by and see a man drown and be unable to help him, Is horri- ble. To watch the house of our friend and neighbor shiver in the winters wind for want of coat of paint; to see a whole family pining away with that dread con- sumption of poverty and be powerless to aid is equally horrible.
 This double process had been going on for years with the James, As the family went down hill the house, so to speak, fol- lowed them. AS they grew ragged it grew shabby; its old timbers sympathised with its old people, yet 1t proudly held together to shelter proud family in diversity.
 Colonel James had been one of the most unfortunate of men. He had been born rich and died poor. Before the war he pos SeSSeU SldVeS ana rice plantdtlOnS on lI1C coast "Pineview," his home in the moun- tains, had been his summer retreat. The war had cost him his slaves, and after the war his sons had cost him his lands. He knew nothing of modern business, neither did they, and between them a large for tune had dwindled until the home in the hills was all that was left. The lawn was used for hay crop, the flower garden for a vegitable patch, and how they made both ends meet no one knew. The colonel had died some years after the war and also one of his sons. One was out west some where, growing up with the country, and the youngest, with two elder sisters and his mother, lived at Pineview. They were as proud as only the poor can be. They were one of the first families" of an aristo- cratic old city, and the blood of some dis tinguished ancestors flowed in their veins
 The youngest son, Harry, was in some ways as unfortunate as his father. He had been brought up as a family pet in-