The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-07-09

The Ravenels. typical romance of the South. A novel of unfailing in terest, of thrilling climaxes. Full of genuine local color.
 Young Stpehen Ravenel crouched in the great chair gazingly wondering at the portrait of his murdered father. childishly asking himself over and over again why the picture does not show the cruel gash and state is not de- pictment readily forgotten. There are bright scenes Of childhood to tighten the pages. What lips will not laugh at the story of the cock-fght in the lot when the "Old Red" was coated in flower and molasses fer the fray. when buxom Nanny stifled her own anger at the death of "CId Red" to shield 'her boys? \ home are deftly shown in contrast, the A gentle mother Marie, the stern Claudia who defied her brother for her lover. Yet it was Claudia of the great dark eyes who kept alive the spirit of re- venge in Stephens young heart when that lover became the slayer Of her brother.
 The younger women are the girls of the South of today. Mercia with her devotion to the ol6 General. her fa- ther, Gracey, with her need anc am bition to be helpful, to be working girl.
 stephen is the noble, honorable son of honorable people. At risk of his life he~refuses to allow a techhicelity of the law to be pushed to his favor.
 John, the planter. is another type of the day. The born-manager of freedman-labor. the man who can make workers out a black sheep's hide and a barrel of tar," the man who can make cotton pay, and who can in the midst of all difficulties keep honor bright and white.
 The contrasts end resemblances of the brothers are we'll set up.
 The whole plot of the fervent TO- nance bears on the murder of the hero's father. The intimate outbreak ing of the story keeps the interest at high-water mark. The revenge brought by the murderer, through Ste phens hands. upon himself, is a vivid piece of realism.
 The awakening of the South to pros perity in all lines is ever pleasant story.
 The old Ravenel home, The Seigneu- ny" with blackened pillars. boarded windows, broken steps, dismantled in terior, wings only inhabited. is the type of many old Southern homes. May the "Seigneury," repaired, re- newed, readorned be the type of all old Southern homes!
 The local color is put on boldly. It is the Vicksburg that ell know. Here is Cherry Street; 1t is what Fifth Ave nue is to New York. what Peachtree is to Atlanta, Government to Mobile, and every town has its Cherry Street under some name or other: This heavenly highway runs North and South, along the stiffest backbone of the city, and gazes squarely over the heads of everything between itself and the river. The superior folk who live. upon it, with eyes and noses tilted up- ward at an angle peculiar to them selves, stare just as complacently over the heads of everybody else in town for their front doors open upon Ely sium and their back gates lead di- rectly into their own exclusive para disc"
 The reconstruction of old John Done zac is a humorous touch; the Johnny Reb and the Dom- Yonkee, this last, mind you, "a compound word, riveted together and utterly indivsible, are found ahebnobbing together over mint juleps and talking over the memorable battles on Vicksburg's hills The ne gro stories scattered like silhouettes through MT. Dickson's book are excel lent likenesses to the real. There Is "Rouster Sam" accused of every crime in the calendar. but so slick they can't convict him-the smartest liar -,
 
 to offer it for the defense of his young master Stephen Ravenel, in time of trouble. Elijah and his marital trou- bles cut queer capers down the pages, Liza and Mandy and Sisseretta hac all gone after 'vosement papers and preachers till Elijah was quite ready to pay little master his first fee for a license to wing preachers.
 Now femme tell you dis, little mas ter, I done got tired of trapsin' roun' de country huntin' up wimmn for desc jack-leg preachers to run off wid, an de pint O law I wants to 'scuss wid you is dis: S'posin' I nails up de gate an puts sign on it, No Preachers Lowed is I got a right to sit on de fence an shoot 'em when dey climb over?"
 Many have heard the old clock of the courthouse tower with the same senti- ments and memories stirring as these that Mir Dickson's hero expresses: Its serenely patient chimes rolled across the river, breaking like a surf of mel ody against the Louisiana shore. Men had come and men had gone down to their graves again. This grim old bell, with melodious unconcern. meas ured the hours of their lives. With the same calm voice it had spoken whilst the matchless Prentiss played upon the heartstrings of its people: SO. again, it spoke when the 1st Mis- sissippi regiment chose Colonel Jeffer- son Davis to lead them into Mexico. So with unwavering fortitude. it gave its people counsel in darkness and in daylight, while standing boldly out, heroic target. before the hurling storms of war. It's superb courage strengthened with disaster, and the voice of the old clock did not falter when thousands of gaunt men in blue clanked their spurs upon the slate foored corridors beneath it. And now the same sweet old bell poureA its midnight benison into the quiet soul of him who sat staring at the river"
 It Is all there, the hills, the bluffs, the terraces of old Vicksburg. The fair girls. The "Swampers," too, with