Laughing, innocent, whole-souled Foresta!" almost shouted Ensal, the horror, through the personal element brought into the matter, now doubling its force. "Poor Mrs. Crump! Poor Negro womanhood!

A Son of the New South. "I understand that a few years ago a Negro man and woman were burned at the stake in this neighborhood. Would you kindly show me the place?" This request came from Ensal Ellwood and was addressed to young Maul, the attorney who had plead so earnestly for the conviction of the lynchers of Bud and Foresta. A sad look stole over young Maul's face.

"What on earth have I to do with that?" asked Foresta, her eyes widening with astonishment. "This much I am going to have a measure of stability in my family service somehow. Your mother here is in a tight box. All I have to do is to speak the word and to the penitentiary she goes!" said Daleman. Foresta grew weak, her lips slightly parted and she backed to the wall for support.

"You wench, you, you can't speak can you? You and that dad blasted man of yours have got the big head, anyway," said Fletcher, drawing his pistol and starting toward Foresta. Foresta dropped her milk pail and ran into the house. Fletcher took a seat on a bench in the yard and awaited the coming of Bud Harper, Foresta's husband, who was out hunting and was not due for some time yet.

Foresta took another look into her mother's face, then resumed her former attitude. Continuing, she said: "Miss Alene leaves to-morrow, and I am afraid to stay there with him. You know a colored girl has no protection. If a white girl is insulted her insulter is shot down and the one who kills him is highly honored.

When the young woman who had committed herself to Bud Harper's care awoke the next morning she saw standing near her a tall, slender, Negro girl, of a dark brown complexion. "My name is Foresta," said the girl, showing the tips of her beautiful white teeth. Her lips were thin, her nose prettily chiseled, her skin smooth, her brow high, her head covered with an ample supply of jet black hair.

Foresta and her mother heard his cry and reached him just in time to break the force of the fall, but not in time to prevent his answering the final summons. A Plotter Is He. Neighbors came and took charge of the body of Ford Crump. The body of Henry was brought home and received the same kindly attention. Foresta and her mother now set forth to make arrangements for the burial.

Mama came and unlocked the door and went back. 'Good night, said I. But Dave wouldn't move. He was so afraid that he had spoiled things for Bud. I stood there and thought a while. It came to me that it might not be wise to treat Bud's first attempt to say what I was willing for him to say, too coolly. And yet I didn't want to appear too anxious. You know what I mean," said Foresta appealingly.

And I boxed his ears for him. If you are here I want you to come to my and Bud's wedding." Foresta now arose to go. Holding up a finger of warning, she said, "We haven't told the old folks yet." The Ways of A Seeker After Fame.

Bud looked down on her tenderly, and said, "It is a shame for a peaceful, industrious man to have a home and not be able to go to it." Just then Sidney Fletcher was seen coming in their direction. "Get behind a tree; nobody knows what will take place," said Bud to Foresta. She obeyed and Bud now calmly awaited the approach of Sidney Fletcher.