University of South Carolina Libraries
lewis m. grist, Proprietor.| ^it Independent Jamilji ftcicspapcr: eifor the ?romotion of the folitkat, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the $oufh. jTERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL. 36. YORKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2, 1890. ]STO. 14. DIRAVEN RANCH A Story of American Frontier Life. By Gapt* CHARLES KING, U. S. A., Author of "The Colonels Daughter," "From the Ranks," "The DeserterEtc. Copyrighted 1888 by J. B. Lipplncott Company. Philadelphia, and published by special arrange meot through the American Press Association CHAPTER XL I w^m VWMSfjS eastward just /before noon, somewhat \\ mjuXff comforted in con* aJa j/Ti/f 8c'ence because of his i&W '?Wr self denial of the morning, Ned Perry scanned the distant prairie in search of the hunt. It was nearly luncheon time, and he expected to find the party making its way to the little stream whither the baskets, boxes and ham pern had been dispatched by wagon some , hours before; but when he sighted the quartermaster driving homeward in his buggy he learned from that bulky veteran that rabbit after rabbit had been run, and that the whole party had finally decided to give dogs and horses a cool drink down in the Monee valley before starting northward across the prairie. "They must be getting down into the valley two or three miles east of the ranch just about now, and will go due north from there, unless they stir up more game along the Monee. If I were you," said the quartermaster, "I'd ride over to the lunch stand. You won't get there much before the crowd." Perry thanked him for the information, but, so far from accepting his advice, the young officer turned his horse's head in the direction of Dunraven, and was speedily riding thither with an alacrity that he himself could hardly explain. In his brief talk with the colonel after parade on the previous evening Perry had told him what he could of the characteristics of Messrs. Maitland and Ewen. The odd letter which had been sent by them had given the commanding officer cause for much thought, and he was desirous, evidently, of gathering from Perry's observations as complete an idea as was possible of their life and surroundings. And still Perry had found it impossible to volunteer any description of MissMaitland; he could not bear to speak of her until?until he knew more of the doctor's purpose in his visits to the ranch. He had been detained by his commander just long enough to make it necessary for him to go direct to the Spragues' without leaving his helmet and saber at home. They were waiting dinner for him as it was, but Mrs. Belknap took no note of that circumstance; what she saw was that he had avoided even passing within hail of her piazza both before and after parade. Now. though conscious of no intention of avoidance, Perrj rode forth to the meeting of this day with some little misgiving. In the first place, he knew that he must strive to make his peace with this slighted lady; and yet, in view of all he had seen and heard in the past forty-eight hours, how utterly dwarfed had that affair?his laughing flirtation with Mrs. Belknap?become! Had any one told him his attentions to her and her marked preference for his society were matters that people were beginning to talk of?some with sly enjoyment, others with genuine regret?he would have been grateful for the information, instead of resentful, as, with most men, would be the case ninety-nine times out of a hundred. But he knew nothing of this, and had too little experience to suspect the comments in circulation. She was most interesting?up to the day before yesterday; he loved to ride or dance with her; he enioyed a chat with her more than he could tell. A most sympathetic and attentive listener was Mrs. Belknap, and her voice was low and sweet and full of subtly caressing tones. She had made him talk to her by the hour of his home, his hopes and ambitions, his profession and his prospects, and had held him in a silken bondage thit he had no desire to escape. And yet, as he rode out on the breezy plain this brilliant day, ho found all thought of her distasteful, and his eyes, far from searching for the flutter of her trim habit in the distant riding party, would go a-roaming over the intervening shades and shallows down in the Monee valley and seek the bare, brown walls of Dunraven far across the stream. It was odd indeed that he should have sought this, the longest way round, on his ride in quest of his companions from the fort. Once again he looked at the isolated clump of buildings from his post of observation on the bluff; once again he saw across the stream and through the trees the barbed barrier that had caused both him and his men such laceration of flesh and temper; once again he saw the shallow valley winding away to the southeast, decked with its scrubby fringe work of cottonwood and willow; but this time, three miles away, its accustomed solitude was broken by groups of riders and darting black specks of dogs, all moving northward once more and already breasting the slopes. He should have turned away eastward and ridden across country to join them, but down here-in the valley, only a short distance away, absorbed in watching the hunting party, sat Mr. Ewen on a pawing una excueu uay. >v natever i coolness his rider might feel at this dis- j covery, it was not shared by Nolan; he j pricked up his ears and hailed his fel- ! low quadruped with cordial and unaf- I fected pleasure, a neigh that the English ; bred horse was so utterly uninsular as to j whirl about and answer with corresponding warmth, Ewen caught at his heavy Derby and jerked it oil his bullet | head with an air of mingled embarrass- j ment and civility, replacing it with ! similarly spasmodic haste. Perry coolly, I but with a certain easy grace, raised his forage cap in response to the salutation, and then, seeing the manager still look- j ing at him as though he wanted to say j something and did not know how to be- j gin, gave Nolan his head and rode down to short hailing distance. "We meet on neutral ground out here, i Mr. Ewen. I suppose your exclusive j employer over yonder can hardly pro- j hibit your answering civil inquiries after I his health?" And, though ho meant to j be distant. Perry found himself smiling at the oddity of the situation. "Do you know, I was just thinking about you," answered Ewen, "and won- j dering whether you were with that party i down yonder? The old gentleman is j better, thanks. He had two pretty bad | nights, but is coming around slowly." "And Miss Maitland?how is she?" "Rather seedy. She has had a good ' deal of care and vexation of late, I fancy, and this is no place for a young girl. anyhow." "Well, you have some appreciation of the true character of Dunraven as a residence, after all!" answerry Perry. "Now, if you can give me any good reason why she should live in this utterly out-of-theway place, you will lift a weight from my mind." "Oh, they don't live here, you know," spoke Ewen, hurriedly. "She comes here only when her father does. It is her own doing. She goe3 with him everywhere, and will not leave him. \ She's all he has, don't you know?" "I don't know anything about it. You Dunraven people seem averse to any expression of interest or courtesy from your fellowmen, but I'm free to say I should like to know what on earth there is in American cavalrymen to make them such objects of aversion to your master; and I would be glad to know how it is such a girl as that is | dragged into such a hole as yonder." Ewen sat in silence a moment, studying the young fellow's face. "You deserve a better welcome there," he presently answered, "and I don't know that I can do better than to tell you the truth?what I know of it. And let me tell you that if the old man knew ?>f my speaking of it to any one, I'd lose the most lucrative but least attractive place I ever had. Do you see?" "Then perhaps you had better not tell me. I.do not care to pry into secrets." "Oh, this is no secret. It was that that '" ? > 1?i drove mm litre; ever) wujr n.uc?y u iu England. You were mighty shabbily treated at the ranch, and you requited it by preventing what would have been a bloody row, and by lending us a helping hand. Even the old man recognizes that; and I think he'd be glad to say so to you, and see you, if you were not just what you are?a cavalry officer." "Why, what on earth can we have done? If any of our cloth have wronged Mr. Maitland in any way, it is our right to know it and take it up." "It wasn't your cloth, old fellow." said Ewen, thawing visibly, "but it was the cavalry all the same that broke his heart and his pride, and made his life the wreck it is, and drove him from his home, shunning the sight of his fellow men, all these years?exiling her, too, in the prime of her young life. Mr. Perry, there are only three or four of us at Dunraven who know the story, but we have only sympathy and pity?no blame ?for him, though he is the hardest master I ever served." "How did it happen?" asked Perry. "All through his son. There had been more of them, but there was only the one?Archie?when the Lancers were ordered to South Africa. He was a youngster, only 17, they tell me, and he had just been gazetted to his cornetcy. The old man was all wrapped up in him, for of the three boys the eldest had died only the month before the regiment was ordered on foreign service and the second had been killed in India. Both these two who were gone had made themselves famous among their comrades by their fearlessness and high character, and the old man, of course, could not ask Archie to quit the servico just when orders for dangerous duty came. The boy went to the Cape with his corps, and got into the thick of the Zulu war just at the time of the massacre of the Twenty-fourth at Isandlwhana and the fight at Rorke's Drift. I was at home then, and all England was quivering with grief over such needless sacrifice as was made of that regiment, and all ready to fall down and worshn? j such fellows as Chard and Bromhead, who made the superb fight almost at the same time. "They say old Maitland wanted to go himself, as volunteer or something, with Lord Chelmsford, but it couldn't be done. His father had fought at Alma and Inkerman, and his grandfather had led the Guards at Waterloo. The whole tribe were soldiers, you know; and now Archie was with the Lancers in Zululand, and the Lancers were going to wipe out the disasters of the first fights of the campaign, and Archie was to uphold the grand old fighting name and come home covered with glory. He was the heir now, and Mis3 Gladys was but a little girl. I have heard it all from Mrs. Cowan; she was their housekeeper in those days, and a sort of companion, too, to Mrs. Uaitland, who was very delicate. The old man was very fiery and proud and full of fierce denunciation of every thing that had gone wrong in the campaign; and he offended some people by the way ho condemned some officer who was a friend of theirs, and there were others who thought he talked too much; but he fairly boiled over when the news came of how the prince imperial had been abandoned by his escort, and that a British officer and a dozen men had run two miles at top speed from a beggarly little squad of niggers before they dared look round to see what had become of their prince, whom they had left to fight the gang alone. That was old Maitland's text for a month. If any son of his had ever been of that party he would disown, disgrace, deny him, forbid him his sight, cut him off forever. And right in the midst of it all?a judgment, some people said?there came the awful news that Cornet Maitlan"'l..~>f *he Lancers was to be court mnrtian* misbehavior in face of the eneiiiY. "Of course the oia man only raged at first; said it couldn't bo true; 'twas all some foul invention or ridiculous blunder; but he ran up to London and saw somebody at the Horse Guards?that's our war office, you know?and came back looking a century older and simply crushed to earth. Mrs. Cowan says they showed him the official report of a general officer who was called upon to explain why he had not sent certain troops to the relief of an advanced and threatened post, and he replied that he had sent the order by Cornet Maitland, of the Lancers: had given him an escort of a dozen men and strict injunctions to push through by night, at all hazards, though the way was beset with Zulus, and that he neither went through nor returned, but was found hiding at a kraal two days after, only twenty miles away. The escort returned, and after much crossexamination had told the story, separately and collectively, that the young officer had become utterly unnerved towards midnight by the reports from scouting parties and others; had declared to them that it was simply madness to attempt to push through; they would be massa cred to a man; and, though they announced that they were stanch and ready, he refused, and ordered them to bivouac where they were for the night, and in the morning he had disappeared. They declared they supposed he had gone back to camp, and after waiting a day they returned, reporting him lost. "When found at the kraal he was delirious with fever, or pretended to be, said the general, and he was brought in under arrest and the trial was to proceed. I don't know how it turned out. He was not court martialed, but permitted to return to England. It was said he told a very different story; that he had begged the brigade major who detailed the escort to let him have half a dozen of his own Lancers instead of the pack of irregulars they gave him; he did not trust them, and feared they would abandon him as they had the prince; but the staff officer said the order couldn't be changed?these men knew the country and all that sort of thing, you know; and there was one fellow in the Lancers who stuck to it that he believed Maitland had tried his best to get through alone. But 'twas all useless; somebody had to be held responsible, and the failure was all heaped on him. "Meantime, there had been fury at home; old Maitland had written casting him off, repudiating?cursing him for all I know?and the next thing there came a messenger from the captain of his ship at Southampton. They brought his watch, his ring, his sword and portmanteaus. and a letter which was writ%. ?i,o? i*;o AT.MA W1J VI VtlttV 1113 KltUCi DCUk .lirn?a long letter, that the old man never rsad to any living soul, but broods over to this day. The young fellow bade them all good-by; ho would not live to disgrace them further, if that was what was thought of him at home, and leaped overboard from the steamer the night after she weighed anchor?no one aboard could tell just when, but he was writing in his state room as she cleared the harbor, and the steward saw him undress mg at 9 o'clock. In the morning everything about his belongings was found in perfect order?his letter to the captain of the ship, the portmanteaus, watch, ring, clothing, etc., just as he described in that letter?and he was no more seen. It was the conviction of all that he must have leaped overboard in the darkness when far out at sea. "Then Mrs. Maitland bowed her head and never lifted it again. Then, all alone, and fiercely rejecting anything like sympathy, old Maitland took to travel?came here to America, jyandered around the world, shunning men as he would these prairie wolves; and when he had to go to England he would see no one but the attorneys and solicitors with whom he had business. Here at Dunraven he is more content than anywhere, because he is farther from the world. Here Gladys is queen: 'twas she who named it, two years ago, for her mother was a connection of the earl's. But Maitland even here hates to have his name mentioned; and JJiat is why I say he refers all business to me and keeps himself out of everything. Do you see what a weight he carries?" Mr. Ewen had grown red with the intensitv and raDiditv of his talk. He re moved his hat and mopped his face and brow with a big silk handkerchief, and then glanced again at Perry, who had listened with absorbed interest and who was now silently thinking it over, looking curiously at Ewen the while. "Have- I bored you half to death?" asked the Englishman, somewhat ruefully. "I never told that story before, but it has been smoldering for years." "Bored? No! I never was more interested in my life. I was thinking what a different sort of fellow you were from the man I met out yonder the other day. Did they never do anything to clear the matter up? In our country it never would have been allowed to rest there." "It was too far gone; and when the boy killed himself the thing was used by all the government papers? you'd call them 'administration organs' ?as a confession of judgment. When the Lancers came home there was some talk, but it was soon hushed. Maitland had shut up the old place by that time and gone no one knew where, but I read it in one of the London papers?Truth, I think?a story that two of the irregulars had quarreled with their fellows and after the war was over told a tale that made a sensation in Cape Colony. They said that the young officer was a maligned man; that up to midnight he had pushed on, but every scout and patrol they met warned them that thousands of Zulus were ahead, and that it was madness to try. The men began whispering among themselves, and begged the sergeant to attempt to dissuade tho Lancer officer; and lie did, and they all began to talk, but he refused to listen. "At last they halted at a little stream and flatly refused to go a step further. He ordered, begged and implored. He promised heavy reward to any one of their number who would come and 6how him the way. Then they heard the night cries or signals of some war parties across the fields, and the sergeant and most of the men put spurs to their horses; the others followed, and they rodo back five miles until they were within our patrolled lines; then they bivouacked, supposing, of course, the Lancer had followed them. But he hadn't: he never joined them all next day, and likely as not he had done his best to get through that strange country by night alone, and had tried to carry his dispatches to the detachment. They knew they must tell a straight story or be severely punished. They were twelve against one when it came to evidence, as the sergeant pointed out, and so they agreed on the one that sent him to Coventry. "Some of the Lancer officers got hold of this and swore they believed it true; but meantime the government had had the devil's own time in tiding his lordship the gene.ral over the numerous blunders he had made in the campaign, and the Lancers were summarily ordered off elsewhere. There was no one left to take up poor Archie's cause at home, and the thing died out." "By the Lord Harry, Mr. Ewen, it wouldn't die out here! We Yankees would resurrect such a thing if it were 1 old as a mummy." "Sometimes I think old Maitland would be glad of the chance to do it, even broken as ho is; sometimes, Mrs. Cowan says, he walks the floor all night and holds Archie's last letter in his hands. She thinks he charges himself with having driven the boy to suicide." JL/VCO ouxoo maii/iaau uo?u icviDib till? old home?" asked Perry, after a moment's thought. "She goes with her father?everywhere. He is never here more than twice a year, and seldom for more than sixweeks at a time. Were it not for her, he would settle down here, I believe. He went to Cape Colony and tried to find the men who gave out that story, but one of them was dead and the other had utterly disappeared. There were still tix survivors of that escort, the sergeant among them, and he was a man of some position and property. They stuck to the original story, and said the two men who had started the sensation were mere blackmailing vagrants. Maitland advertised everywhere for the missing man, but to no purpose. I think he and Miss Gladys have finally abandoned all hope of ever righting Archie's name. She was only a child when it all happened, but she worshiped him, and never for an instant has believed the story of his havinc funked- She's out hpro ridimr come. where this morning, by the way." "Who! Misn Maitland?" exclaimed Perry, with a sudden start and a flash of tager light in his blue eyes. Ewen smiled quietly as he answered. "Yes. She needed exercise and wanted to come down to th<> gate and meet Dr. Quin. She went on up the valley, and I wonder she U not back." The bright light faded quicki} as it came; the glad blue eyes clouded heavily. Ewen looked at the young soldier, surprise, in his florid face; surprise that quickly deepened into concern, for Perry turned suddenly away, as though looking for his comrades of the hunt. "I think they're coining now," said the manager, peering up the valley under the shading willows. "Yes. Won't you stop a bit':" "Not now," was the hurried reply. "Thank you for that story; it has given me a lot to think about. I'll see you again." The last words were almost shouted back, for, urged by sudden dig of the spur, Nolan indignantly lashed his heels, then rushed in wrathful gallop towards the eastern bluffs. It was no willful pang his rider had inflicted on his pet and comrade; it was only the involuntary transmission of the shock to his own young heart?a cruel, jealous stab, that came with those thoughtless words, "She wanted to come down to the gate and meet Dr. Quin. and went on up the valley." lie would not even look back and see her riding by that man's side. CHAPTER XII. ^ ^ ?xf)ress'?" ?' seemed off his feed" for ^C\ a t,av or tu'o. Tho hunt big success, despite tho fact of Perry's defection?he had not oven joined them at luncheon?and it was agreed that it should be repeated the first bright day after muster. That ceremony came ofl on Monday with duo pompand formality and much rigidity of inspection on the part of the post commander. It was watched with interest by the ladies, and Mrs. Belknap even proposed that when the barracks and kitchens were being visited they should go along. Dana had been her devotee ever since the day of the hunt, and announced his willingness to carry her suggestion to the colonel, but Belknap declined. She wanted a few words with Perry, and did not know how to effect her purpose. When he stopped and spoke to her after parade od Saturday evening and would have made peace, she thought to complete her apparent conquest by a show of womanly displeasure at his conduct, and an assurance that, thanks to Mr. Dana, the day had been delightful and his failure to accompany her had been of no consequence at all. The utterly unexpected way in which he took it was simply a "stunner" to the little lady. So far from being piqued and jealous and huffy, as she expected, Mr. jrerry justified the oft expressed opinion of hei sisterhood to the effect that "men were simply past all comprehension" by brightening up instantly and expressing such relief at her information that for a moment she was too dazed to 6peak. By that time he had pleasantly said good night and vanished; nor had he been near her since, except to bow and look pleased when she walked by with Dana. She never thought of him as an actor before, but this, said Mrs. Belknap to herself, looks like consummate acting. Had she known of or even suspected the existence of a woman who had interposed and cast her into the shade the explanation would have occurred to her at once; but that there was a goddess in the shape of Gladys Maitland within a day's ride of Rossiter she never dreamed for an in-j I stant. Believing that no other womanM couJd have unseated her, Mrs. Belknap simply could not account for such utter, such unutterable, complacency on the part of her lately favored admirer in his virtual dismissal. All Sunday and Monday she looked for signs of sulking 01 surrender, but looked in vain. Perry seemed unusually grave and 6ilent, was Parke's report of the situation: but whatever comfort 6he might havederived from that knowledge wasutterly destroyed by the way he brightened up and looked pleased whenever they chanced to meet. Monday evening lie stopped to speak with her on the walk, holding out his hand and fairly beaming upon her; she icily received these demonstrations, but failed to chill them or him. Then she essayed to make him suffer the pangs of the jilted by clinging to Dana's arm and smiling up in Dana's face, and then she suddenly started: "Oh, Mr. Dana! How could I have been so thoughtless?and this is your wounded side!" Dana protested that her slight weight was soothing balm, not additional pain, and Perry promptly asseverated that if ho were Dana ho would beg her not to quit his arm, and her eyes looked scorn at him as she said, "How can you know anything about it, Mr. Perry? You've never been in action or got a scratch, while Mr. Dana"?and now the dark eyes spoke volumes as they looked up into those of her escort?"Mr. Dana is one of the heroes of the fighting days of the regiment." Even that failed to crush him. while it had the effect of making Dana feel mawkish and absurd. Perry frankly responded that he only wondered the women ever could find time to show any civility whatever to fellows like him, when there were so many who "had records." She was completely at a loss to fathom him, and when tattoo came on Mondav night, and they were all discussing the project of a run with the hounds for the coming morrow?a May day celebration on new principlesMrs. Belknap resolved upon a change of tactics. Dana was officer of the guard and over at the guard house, but nearly all the other officers were chatting about the veranda and the gate of the colonel's quarters. Thither had Capt. Belknap escorted his pretty wife, and she was, as usual, the center of an interested group. Terry came strolling along after reporting the result of tattoo roll call to the adjutant, and Capt. Stryker called to him and asked some question about the men on stable guard. The orders of t.Vio rnlnnrd with rerr.ird tn wfttfihinc t.llfl movements of the men after the night roll call were being closely observed, and when the trumpets sounded "taps," a few moments later, several of the troop commanders walked away together, and this left a smaller party. It was just at this juncture that Mrs. Belknap's sweet voice was heard addressing the commanding officer: "Oh, colonel! Ever since Thursday I have been telling Capt. Belknap about those lovely albums of yours; and he is so anxious to see them. Could he have a look at them to-night?" "Why, certainly," exclaimed the colonel, all heartiness and pleasure. "Come right in, Belknap, come in?any of you ?all of you?where it's good and light." And he hospitably held open the screen door. Perry had seen the albums a dozen times, but he was for going in with the others, when he felt a little hand pressure on his arm, and Mrs. Belknap's great dark eyes were gazing up into his with mournful, incredulous appeal. "Don't you know I want to 6ee you?" she murmured so that only ho could hear. "Wait!" And, much bewildered, Mr. Perry waited. She stood where she could look through the screen door in tho parlor beyond, watching furtively until the party were grouped under tho hanging lamps and absorbed in looking over one another's shoulders at the famous albums; then, beckoning to him to follow, she flitted, like some eerie sprite, on tiptoe to tho southern end of tho veranda, where clustering vines hid her from view from the walk along the parade. rerry begun to teei queer, as ne aiterwards expressed it, but ho stalked along after her, declining to modulate the thunder of his heavy heels upon tho resounding gallery. She put her finger to her lips, and, after a nervous glance around, looked at him warningly, beseechingly. "What on earth's the matter?" was all the perplexed and callow youth could find to say. and in a tone so utterly devoid of romance, sentiment, tenderness ?anything she wanted to hear?that in all her experience?and she had had not a little?pretty, bewitching little Mrs. Belknap could recall nothing so humil iating. "How can you be so unkind to me?" at last she whispered, in the tragic tremolo she well knew to be effective; it had done execution over and again. But big, handsome Ned Perry looked only like one in u maze: then he bent over her in genuine concern: "Why, Mrs. Belknap! What has happened? What has gone wrong? What do you mean by unlcindness?" She faced him, indignantly now: "Is it possible you profess not to know?" "By all that's holy, Mrs. Belknap, I haven't an idea of what you mean to charge me with. Tell me, and I'll make every amend 1 know how." lie was bending over her in genuine distress and trouble; ho had no thought but to assure her of bis innocence of any conscious wrong. She was leaning upon the balcony rail, and lie rested one strong hand upon the post at the shaded corner, above her head, as he bowed his own to catch her reply. For a moment she turned her face away, her bosom heaving, her little hands clasping nervously, the picture of wronged and sorrowing womanhood. His blunt, ragged honesty was something she had never yet had to deal with. This indeed was "game worth the candle," but something of a higher order than the threadbare flirtations she had found so palatable heretofore. Sho had expected him to bo revealed by this time as the admirer who had only been playing a part in his apparent acceptance of the situation of the last two days; 6he expected to be accused of coquetting with Dana, of neglect, coldness, insult towards himself; and this she would have welcomed; it would have shown him still a victim in her toils, a mouse she might toy and play with indefinitely before bestowing the final coup de grace. But instead of it, or anything like it, here stood the tall, handsome young fellow, utterly ignoring the possibility of her having wronged him, and only begging to be told how he had affronted her, that he might make immediate amends. It was simply exasperating. She turned suddenly upon him, hiding her face in her hands, almost Bobbing: "And I thought we were such?such friends!" Even that suggestive tentative did not lay him prostrate. Fancy the utter inadequacy of his response: "Why, so did I!" This was too much. Down came the hands, and were laid in frantic appeal upon his breast. He did not bar the way; she could have slipped from the corner without difficulty, but the other metliod w.is<more dramatic. "let me go, Mr. Perry," she pleaded. "I?I might have known; I might have known." The accents were stifled, heart rending. "Don't go yet, Mrs. Belknap; don't go without telling me what?what I've done." And poor Ned imploringly Beized the little hands in both his and held them tight. "Please tell me," he pleaded. "No, nol You would not understand; you do not see what I have to bear. Let me go, 1 beg, please; I cannot stay." And her great dark eyes, swimming in tears, were raised to his face, while with faint?very faint?struggles she strove to pull her hands away, relenting in her iurpose to go the moment she felt that p was relaxing the hold in which they 'ere clasped, but suddenly wrenching them from his breast and darting from his side, leaving Perry in much bewilderment to face about and confront the doctor. A little opening bod been left in the railing at the south end of the veranda? the same through which the post surgeon had passed the night Mrs. Lawrence had shown to Perry the answering signal light; it was the doctor's "short cut" be tween the colonel's quarters anu his own side door, and soft, unbetraying turf lay there between. Absorbed in her melodrama, Mrs. Belknap had failed to note the coming of the intruder; absorbed in his own stupefaction and his fair part ner's apparent depth of woe, Ned Perry heard nothing but her soft words and softer sighs, until a deep voice at his shoulder?a voice whose accent betrayed no apology?gave utterance to this uncompromising sentiment: "Mrs. Belknap, this is the thirtieth? not the first?of April." "And what has that to do with your sudden appearance, Dr. Quin?" answered the lady, with smiling lips but flashing eyes. She rallied from the shock of sudden voiley like the veteran she was, and took the brunt of the fight on her own white, gleaming shoulders, needing no aid from the young fellow who stood there, flushed, annoyed, yet too perturbed to say a word even had there been a chance to get in one edgewise. Blunt as he was, he could not but realize the awkwardness of the situation. And to be so misjudged by such a man as Dr. QuinI All this was flashing through his mind as the doctor answered: "Nothing with my appearance, Mrs. Belknap; it was yours I remarked upon You seemed to think it%Ai^Fools' day." "Far from it, doctor, when 1 thought you miles away." "Well, well, Mrs. Belknap," said Quin. shrugging his broad shoulders and laughing at her undaunted pluck, "I've known you fifteen years, and never have found you at a loss for a sharp retort." "In all tliQ years you havo known me, doctor, as child, as maid, as woman, you are the only man in the army who ever put me on the defensive. I see clearly that you would taunt me because of this interview with Mr. Perry. Honi soit qui mal y pense, Dr. Quin! You are the last man in this garrison?cavalry and all?who can afford to throw 6tones." "Whew-w-w!" whistled the doctor. "What a little spitfire you always were, to be surel Mr. Perry," said he, turning suddenly on the young officer, "let me at once apologize for a very misleading observation. When I spoke of having known Mrs. Belknap fifteen years she instantly thought I meant to make her t. -1 a? -.1 oui very mucn oiuer 111u.11 tuio ia, tmu hence these recriminations. She always objected to me because I used to tease her when 6he was in her first long dresses?the prettiest girl at Fort Leavenworth?and she's never gotten over it. But her father and I were good friends, and I should like to be an honest one to his daughter. Good night to yob both." "One moment, Dr. Quin," said Perry, springing forward. "You havo seen fit to make comments and insinuations that havo annoyed Mrs. Belknap at a time when she was under my escort" "Oh, Mr. Perry, no! nol" exclaimed Mrs. Belknap, laying her hand on his arm. "Not a word of that kind, I implore! Hush! here comes my husband." "Ah, Belknap," said the doctor blandly, as the big captain came hurriedly forth with searching glance along the dark gallery, "here you find mo, as usual, trying to be devoted to Mra B. whenever I can get you out of the way. Why tho jeuco cun't you stay?" "Oh, it's you, is it, doctor?" answered tho captain in tones of evident relief. "It is far too chilly for this young woman to bo sitting here without a wrap, is it not? Come inside, Dolly. Come, doctor. Halloo! what's that?" A cavalry trumpeter came springing through tho gato and up on the veranda. "Is Capt. Stryker here?" he panted. "No. What's the matter?" demanded Perry. "Trouble at tho stables, sir. Sergt GWynne's assaulted again." Perry sprang from tho veranda and went tearing across tho dark level of tho parade as fast as active legs could carry him, leaving tho doctor far behind. As ho passed tho company quarters he noted that several men were leaping from their broad galleries, some just pulling on a blouse, others in their sliirt sleeves, but all hastening towards the stables, where dim lights could bo seen flitting about flnn nf lliocn HhU W 111-*-* "HIC"?? V ..v W. troopers camo bounding to his side and would havo passed him in the race. ?Io recognized the athletic form even in the darkness and hailed him: "That you, Sergt. Leary? What's gone wrong?" "It's thim black guards from below, sir. Who elso could it be?" "Those people at the ranch?" "The very ones, sir. No one elb= would harm Sergt. Gwynne. Sure wo ought to havo wound 'em up the one night we had a chance, sir." Breathless, almost, they reached tho stables. Tho horses were all snorting and plunging about in their stalls, showing every 'indication of excitement and alarm. From tho 6tables of tho adjoining companies other men had come with lanterns, and a group of perhaps half a dozen troopers was gathered about tho form of a cavalry sergeant who was seated, limp and exhausted, at the western dnorwav. One soldier was bathing his face with a sponge; the first sergeant of the troop was bending over and trying to feel the pulse. "Stand back, you menl" he said, authoritatively, as he caught sight of the lieutenant's shoulder straps. "Leave a lantern here. Now, Gwynne, here's Lieut. Perr \ Can you tell him who it was?" Gwynne feebly strove to rise, but Perry checked him. "Sit downl The docter is coming; don't atteniDt to move." panted the youn$ officer. "Tell me what you know about it, Sergt. Hosmer." "Nothing but this, sir. I was In the office when Trumpeter Petersen ran in and said they were killing Sergt. Uwynne. I sent him for the captain and grabbed my revolver and ran here as hard as 1 could. He was lying just outside the door when I got here, and not another soul in sight. Sergt. Ross, of F troop, i and Sergt. Fagan, of B, came with their 1 lanterns from the stables next door; but they had not even heard the trouble." "Where was the stable guard?" j "Inside, sir. and he's there now. He , heard the scuffle, he says, and ran to , give the alarm and to protect the 6er- ] geant, but the men scattered when he ] came, and he saw none of them." ] "Tell him to come here. Let some of < these men go in and quiet the horses. ] The captain will be here in a minute, and he will want to 3 that stableman. < Who is it?" "Kelly, sir." < By this time Dr. Quin came lumber- 1 lng heavily up the slope to the stable door. His manner was very quiet and 1 very grave as he bent over the injured man and carefully studied his face by the light of the sergeant's lamp. The doctor spoke gently: "You know me, sergeant??Dr. Quin. j Can you tell mo what struck you? Are you hurt elsewhere than in the head?" Gwynne made no reply for a moment, ( then faintly answered: "Stunned, mainly, and one or two ] kicks after I was knocked down." Then came a deeper voice, quiet but ] authoritative, and the group that had < begun to close in again about the doctor ] and his patient fell back as Capt. Stryker : strode into their midst. j "Sergt. Hosmer, send all these men of 1 the troop back to their quarters at once, and permit no more to come out. Is he 1 much hurt, doctor?" "Somewhat stunned, ho says. I've 1 mads no examination yet." The captain looked about him. Except one sergeaut holding a lantern, the other troopers, obedient to his order, ; were slowly fading back into the dark- ^ ness on their way to the barracks. Only . the doctor, Mr. Perry, and the sergeant remained by the side of the injured j man. Then came the question: "Who did this, Gwynne?" No answer. A deeper shade of pain i and trouble seemed to pass over the sergeant's face. He made an effort to ' speak, hesitated, and at last replied: "I cannot say, sir." "You know, do you not?" Again pained silence and embarrassment. At last the sergeant leaned slowly forward and spoke: "Captain, the men were masked, the ' voices disguised. I could not see the ] dress in the darkness. I was struck on the head almost the instant I got outside the door, and it would be impossible for ' me to identify one of them." 1 "Do you think it was the same gang you had the trouble with at Dunraven?" "I?could not say, sir." ! "Do you suspect any of our own men?" ' "I?would not say that, sir." 1 "Where is the 6table guard?" asked , Stryker. "Send him here." ] And presently Trooper Kelly?a wiry ] little Irishman, with a twinkling eye and an expression of mingled devilment and imperturbability in his face?came forth : from the stable door and stood attention. ! "Where were you when this assault took place, Kelly?" "At the far end of the stables, sir," replied Kelly, with prompt and confident tone. "Then of course you saw and know nothing of it." 1 "Not a wor-rad, sir." 1 "Why did you let a gang from that English ranch come hero and beat your sergeant before your very eyes?" Kelly reddened at the very idea. j "I'd ha' died first, sir! Sure they'd niver dared"? And then Kelly stopped short. His Celtic pride had been touch- j ed to the quick, and had it not proved too much for even Irish wit? "How did they get the sergeant out of , the stable at this hour of the night?" s "Sure they called him out, sir." < "And the sergeant happened to be i down there by the door at the time?" < "No, sir; he was in his room beyant? ] up there by the forage." i "That's a long distance from this door, 1 Kelly; and if he could hear it in his ! room you could hear it farther away." 1 "I wasn't farther away thin, sir; I was I down here when they axed for him." "Then why didn't you open the door 1 and see who was making such a racket, shouting for Sergt. Gwynne after taps?" "Sure they didn't shout at all at all, sir; they axed for him quiet and respectable like, an' I wint and told him." j "Ah, yes, I see. And then, having . told him, you went away to the far end ] of the stable." 1 "Yis, sir, just so, sir; an' the moment ] I heard the scrimmidge, sir, 1 ran as ? hard as 1 could." "Of course you considered it was none ] of your business what people might want with the stable sergeant at night." 1 "No. sir. If he wanted mo ho had a ] right to tell me to come." 1 "We differ on that point. Kelly. Relieve him, Sergt. Iiosmer." < On the following morning Col. Brainard was surprised to note in Capt. Stry- < ker's column of remarks explanatory of i the alterations from the status of the ' previous day: 1 "Sergt. Gwynne from daily duty ;is ' 3table sergeant to sick In hospital: Sergt. ' Leary from duty to arrest, and Private Kelly from duty to confinement." TO UK CONTINUED NEXT WEEK. SCENT IN HORSES. The finest and deepest emotions of J a dog seem to be dependent on his i sense of smell. Not only does he carry on his business of hunting or guarding through its aid, but his de- j votion to his master and his recognition of lesser friends depend largely upon his nose. According to Horse and Stable, another among the humbler friends of man is keen and deli- ( cate of scent. , The horse will leave musty hay untouched in his bin, no matter how hungry he may be. However great his thirst, he will not drink of water , objectionable to his questioning sniffs, nor from a bucket made in the least degree offensive. His intelligent nostrils will widen, 1 quiver and query over the daintiest bit offered by the fairest of hands. A , mare is never satisfied, either by sight or whinny, that a colt is really her ( own, until she has certified to the fact by means of her nose. Blind horses will, as a rule, gallop wildly about a pasture without striking the surrounding fence. The sense ..? +l.ntYi i\f nrnYi'm. I Ill Allien Ul&WllllO 11IVIU vy* Aviy I". ity. Others, when let out from their stables, will go directly to the gate leading to their accustomed feedingground, and when desirous of returning, after hours of careless wandering, will distinguish that one outlet, and patiently await its opening. The .odor of that particular part of the fence serves as their guide. i The horse, when browsing, is guided entirely by the nostrils in its choice of proper food, and blind horses never are known to make mistakes in their diet. Nervous and timorous as this noble animal is known to be, his fears are, of course, doubled by his keenness of scent, for not only does the eye inform him of danger, but the nostrils also herald its presence. The mere scent of a buffalo robe is sufficient to cause extreme terror in many horses, and some, scenting the smoke of a train which has long since passed, show all the fear evoked by its actual presence. S&" Yellow stains, left by sewingmachine oil on white cloth, may he removed by rubbing the spot with a cloth wet with ammonia before washing with soap. JUisccUitncous Reading. A MARVELOUS ESCAPE. BLOWN HEAD FIRST INTO A WELL BY A TERRIFIC CYCLONE. It was in 1882, the 27th of June; yDu will see why I have no trouble m remembering the date. It had been an exceedingly hot day, not a cloud to be seen, with the sun beating fiercely down, aral not a breath of air stirring. We Sat on the porch after supper, trying to find a :ool place. The clouds were beginning to gather, and it looked as if there might be a shower. The three little ones went early to bed, and in ?pite of the oppressive heat were soon fast asleep. It couldn't have been far from 8 3'clock when I heard a sound which I at first thought was thunder. The others noticed it, too, and as it grew louder, a terrible rushing sound came with it, and we looked at one another in silence a minute, and then ran to where we could look out westward. My heart almost stopped beating when I saw coming toward us with terrific speed a black, funnel shaped iloud, the rush and roar accompanying it growing louder every minute. "Run for a cellar!" I cried. My wife ran and seized the baby, and I jaught up the two other children from the bed. There was no time to lose. The one who first reached the cellar door?it was one of the older children?had just time to seize the knob, nothing more, when?crash ! such a terrific noise! I felt myself lifted in the air and thought my time liad come. The next thing I knew I felt the splash of cold water in my face. I must have lost consciousness, but the water revived me, and in a moment I knew where I was. I had come down head first into the well. The water was some ten feet deep. I was thoroughly at home in the water, though I wasn't used to diving in that fashion, and I managed to right myself and come up head first. The well was not more than three feet across, and the pump had been broken short off and carried away, leaving a two inch iron pipe standing straight up in the middle. I was very nearly out of breath when I came to the top of the water. My hands touched something floating on the surface. I thought it was the cat. Imagine my surprise when I found it was Charlie, our 5-year-old Kntr U\JJ He was terribly frightened, and as amazed as I was to find himself not alone in the well. The wonder was that we were not both of us impaled on that iron pipe; how we escaped it I cannot understand. The cyclone had passed on, and a terriffic, steady wind was blowing. I could hear it roar above our heads; and by the flashes of lightning I could see the rain fall in torrents. We were both so wet that we didn't mind the little extra water that splashed down us, and as soon as possible I raised Charlie to my shoulders, and by aid of the pipe managed to work my way to the top of the well. This took some little time, and the rain and wind had nearly ceased when I set my feet on solid earth again, and found we were unhurt.?[M. Louise Ford in St. Nicholas. MY FIRST CIGAR. The time had come in my boyhood which I thought demanded of me a capacity to smoke. The old people of the household could abide neither the sight nor the smell of the Virginia weed. When ministers came there, not by positive injunction, but by a sort of instinct as to what would be safest, they whiffed their pipe on the back steps. If the house could not stand sanctified smoke, it may be imagined how little chance there was for adolescent cigar puffing. By some rare good fortune which put in my hands three cents, I found access to a tobacco store. As the lid af the long, narrow, fragrant box opened, and for the first time I owned a cigar, my feeling of elation, manliness, superiority, and anticipation can scarcely be imagined, save by those who have had the same sensation. When I put the cigar to my lips, and stuck the lucifer match to the end of the weed, and commenced to pull with an energy that brought every facial muscle to its utmost tension, my satisfaction with this world was so great my temptation was never to want to leave it. The cigar did not burn well. It required an amount of suction that tasked my determination to the utmost. You see that my worldly means had limited me to a quality that cost only three cents. But I had been taught that nothing great was accomplished without effort, and so I pulled away. Indeed I had heard my older brothers in their Latin lesson say, omnia vincit labor ; which translated means, if you want to make anything go, you must scratch for it. With these sentiments, I passed iown the village street, and out toward my country home. My head lid not feel exactly right, and the street began to rock from side to side, 50 that it became rather uncertain to me which side of the street I was on. So I crossed over, but found myself an the same side that I was on before I crossed over. Indeed, I imiigined that I was on both sides at the same time, and several fast teams were driving between. 1 met anotnDr boy, who asked me why I looked >o pale, and I told him that I did not look pale, but that he was pale himself. After some further walking, I sat down under the bridge near my house and began to reflect on the prospect of early decease, and on the uncertainty of all earthly expectations. I had determined to smoke the cigar all up, and thus get the full worth of my money, but was finally obliged to throw three-fourths of it away. I knew, however, exactly where I threw it in case I should feel better the next day. Getting home, the old people were frightened, and demanded of me an explanation as to my absence and the rather whitish color of my complexion. Not feeling that I was called to l;o into particulars, and not wishing to increase my parents' apprehension that 1 was going to turn out badly, I summed up the case with the statement that 1 felt miserable at the pit of the stomach. Mustard plasters were immediately administered, and I received careful watching for some hours. Finally, I fell asleep, and forgot my disappointment and humiliation and being obliged to throw away three-fourths of my first cigar. [T. lie Witt Talmage. ORIGIN OF THE BAGGAGE CHECK. Said Mr. D. L. Merrell, of Union City, Mich.: "John Palmer, of my town, is the inventor of the baggage checking system. I will tell you his story as he told it to me: John Palmer was born in England some 82 years ago, and came to the United States in 1800, and to Union City in 1835. In those early days he was in great demand, for his violin enlivened many and many a winter night. One great annoyance he experienced was the constant trouble people had in finding their coats, hats, wraps, robes, etc., after the party broke up. Well, it was announced that there was a big dance at Burlington on Thanksgiving evening, about I8o0, and Mr. Palmer was to have charge of the music. He knew that there would be a terrible crowd there and that there would be lots of trouble with the clothing, and he went to work to device a plan to obviate it. "Well, after studying on it a long time, he had solved the mystery. He got out eight cards, marked them in pairs?1 1, 2 2, 3 3, 4 4?and one of the greatest blessings to the business world was born. Now for the first test. He had four children ; he took their shoes and stockings, tied each up by themselves, put tags 1, 2, 3, 4, on each lot, and put them away. When the children got up they enquired for their shoes. He gave each one the check that corresponded with the check on the shoes, and told them to go into the other room and pick out their own by comparing the numbers. Each child got his own. Now for a trial on a larger scale. He prepared a lot of checks in the same way for the guests at the party. About the first to arrive were four railroad men from Marshall. Three took their checks; one would not have the thing and threw it on the floor. When they called for their clothes they had forgotten all about the checks and demanded their things. Mr. Palmer asked them for their checks. After hunting some time the three produced their checks and at once received their goods. They had to identify the goods for the fourth man. "Shortly after that there was another party at Burlington, and among them the first to arrive were six railroad men from Marshall, including the first four. They said they wanted their things checked the sump ns hefore. Thev watched the plan the whole evening and went away convinced that they had found a grand idea. Inside of three months it was adopted by the railroad companies of the United States." OUR FAMILIAR SAYINGS. Many of our common sayings, so trite and pithy, are used without the least idea from whose pen or mouth they first originated. Probably the words of Shakspeare furnish us with more of these familiar maxims than any other writer, for to him we owe "All is not gold that glitters," "Make avirtueofnecessity," "Screw your courage to the sticking place," (not point), "They laugh that win," "This is the short and long of it," "Comparisons are odious," "As merry as the day is long," "A Daniel come to judge," "Frailty, thy name is woman," and a host of others. Washington Irving gives "The almighty dollar." Thomas Murgan queried long ago, "What will Mrs. Grundy say ?" while Goldsmith answers, "Ask no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs. "Charles Pinckney gives "Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute." "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citi zens" (not countrymen), appeared in the resolutions presented to the house of representatives, in DecemDecember, 1750, prepared by Geneeral Henry Lee. Thomas Tasser, a writer of the sixteenth century, gives us "Better late than never," "Look ere you leap," and "The stone that is rolling can gather no moss." "All cry and no wool," is found in "Butler's "Hudibras." "Dryden says, "None but the brave deserve the fair," "Men are but children of a larger growth," and "Through thick and thin." "When Greek joined Greek then was the tug of war," came from Nathaniel Lee. "Of two evils I have chosen the least," and "The end must justify the means," are from Matthew Prior. We are indebted to Colley Cibber for the agreeable intelligence that "Richard is himself again." Johnson tells us of "a good hater," and Mcintosh, in 1691, the phrase attributed to John Randolph, "Wise and masterly inactivity." "Variety is,the spice of life," and "Not much the worse for wear," Cowper. "Man proposes, but God disposes," Thomas A Kempis. Christopher Marlowe gave forth the invitation so often repeated by his brothers, in a less public way, "Love me little, love me long." Edward Coke was of the opinion that "A man's house is his castle." To Milton we owe "The Paradise of fools," "A wilderness of sweets," and "Moping melancholy and moonstruck madness." Edward Young tells us "Death loves a shining mark," and "A fool at forty is a fool indeed." From Bacon comes "Knowledge is power," and Thomas Southerne reminds us that "Pity's akin to love," while Dean Swift thought that "Bread is the staff of life." EDUCATION FOR THE FARMER. "What the farmer needs is educating." This remark was made by a bronze face delegate at the session of the agriculturists in geological hall. This brought Thomas R. White, of Oswego, to his feet. He is an agriculturist of rotund form and pleasing face. Mr. White formerly occupied the Methodist pulpit as a local preacher. Ten years ago he drifted into politics and since then has been identified with the politics of Oswego county. He is one of the jolliest of men and takes supreme delight in getting up a row just to see the fun. "One season, when apples were scarce, a neighbor brought around a barrel of apples," he said. "I was eating my dinner at the time he came. He said: T have got a fine barrel of apples for you.' 'All right,' I replied, 'put them off your wagon and I'll pay you for them.' 'They are regular beauties?come out and see them.' 'I will take your word for it,' I replied. But my neighlxjr would not rest until I went out to his wagon and looked at his apples. On the top they were nice and no mistake. Then the man turned the barrel upside down and knocked the bottom in. The apples were as good at the bottom as on top. The man took his pay and went away rejoicing. Tne apples I found excellent until the top layers were gone. Then I struck some of the worst samples of fruit I ever saw." Mr. White looked around the assemblage and tv>nn ocl-rwl with piyinhnsis. "Does tiiV'li uonvvi VVAV** \/>?? j that man need educating '/"?[Albany Journal. Great Rapid Transit Scheme. The plan for giving real rapid transit to large cities has taken definite shape in New York. If the legislature and the city government will permit them, the People's Papid Transit company propose to build an elevated road from Spuyten Duyvil creek south to the Battery, over which trains may run at the rate of fifty miles an hour. The distance is fourteen and three-quarter miles. The unique feature of this enterprise is that the road will be built upon walls of solid masonry, sixty feet high, as high as the tops of many of the business buildings and apartment houses. It will pass through the centre of blocks instead of through the streets, to darken and obstruct them. The right of way and the roadbed will cost $70,000,000. But the stone structure upon which this railway rests will be no mass of dead, dark wall. It will be arranged in houses and business buildings, i. J j ?.;n |lo "Wlin ClOOrs anu \V1UUU?yo, Uiiu wm ut rented like any other such. It is believed that the revenues from this source alone will pay more than 4 per cent, on the cost of the right of way. The business houses and dwellings thus constructed under the railway will be finished in the most attractive manner. The streets will be crossed by steel bridges sixty feet un in the air. The total cost of the work will be a little less than $1)0,000,000, and the company are ready to commence work as soon as the charter is secured. Something of what the travel traffic would bring such a road may be guessed from tnefact that the income of the present elevated roads in New York city amounts to $25,000 a day for the six week days. Sculptors Outwitted.?It is told of an artist named Giorgione, who was a firm friend of the great Titian, that three young sculptors one day asserted in his presence that theirs was a much finer art than painting, and one of them gave as a reason that in painting only one side of a figure could be seen, while in sculpture all sides could be represented. Giorgiene answering this said he could show the back, the face, and both sides of a man in a picture, and that all could be seen at a glance without the necessity of walking around as one would have to do with a statue. The sculptors only laughed at him, but finally made a wager with him that he could not do this, which they said would be a miracle. Giorgione asked for four day's time, at the end of which he agreed to produce the picture or pay two hundred sequins. Titian thought his friend was crazy, for they had very little money and he felt sure he could not show four sides of a figure in one painting, and would have to pay the net. Tie did do it thoueh. and in a verv sinmle way. Oil the fourth day, when the three sculptors arrived, Giorgione displayed his picture. It represented a warrior, who, having his oack turned toward the spectators, stood looking at himself in a fountain, in whose limpid waters his full front figure was reflected. At the left of the warrior was suspended his suit of polished steel armor, in which was mirrored with exact fidelity the whole of left side. At the right was painted a looking-glass, which reflected that side; and thus, in a perfect, though whimsical, manner, Giorgione had fully succeeded in representing at the same time the four sides of the same figure. All Venice thronged to see this curious production, and the three young sculptors who had provoked the bet paid their money with a good grace, readily confessing their own defeat, and the triumph of Giorgione. Making Odd Moments Pay.?A boy was employed in a lawyer's office, and he had the daily newspaper to amuse himself with. He began to study French, and at the little desk became a fluent reader and writer of the French language. He accomplished this by laying aside the newspaper and taking up something not so amusing, but far more profitable. A coachman was often obliged to wait long hours while his mistress made calls. He determined to improve the time. He found a small volume containing the "Eclogues" of Virgil, but he could not read it, so he purchased a Latin grammar. Day by day he s died this, and finally mastered its intricacies. His mistress came behind him one day as he stood by the horses waiting for her, and asked him what he was so intently reading. "Only a bit of 'Virgil,' my lady." "What! do you read Latin ?" "A little, my lady." She mentioned this to her husband, who insisted that David should have a teacher to instruct him. In a few years David became a learned man, and was for many years a useful and beloved minister of Scotland. A boy was told to open and shut the gates to let the teams out of an iron mine. He sat on a log all day by the side of the gate. Sometimes an hour would pass before the teams came, and this he employed so well that there was scarcely any fact in history that escaped his attention. He began with a little book on English history that he found on the road. Having learned that thoroughly, he oorrowed of a minister "Goldsmith's History of Greece." This good man became greatly interested in him, and lent him books, and was often seen sitting by him on the log, conversing with him about the people of ancient times. Boys, it will pay you to use your leisure moments well. Paying the Doctor.?The town of Tiflis, in Russia, has given to the world a point worth knowing. Taking up the ancient Chinese custom of paying the physician when one is in health, and stopping his pay if one falls ill, Tifilis has expanded and improved upon it. One hundred and twenty-five families have clubbed together and hired a doctor to keep them in health. He is to visit the families regularly, whether they are sick or well. He is to advise them in particular instances whether they are sick or well. He is to advise them in particular instances, instructing each how to take care of himself. Then at stated times he is to lecture to the whole society on hygiene. He is to tell them about bathing, food, exercise and other sanitary measures, so that they themselves will, in time, learn to keen well without medicine. These people seem to have a truer idea of the real mission of the doctor than their neighbors who claim to know more. The genuine work of a physician in a community should be to keep his patients well, to instruct them in hygienic laws so thoroughly that they will not fall ill, but on the contrary will become healthier and handsomer the older they grow. But the moment the ph/sican begins to do this he cuts the ground from under his own feet, throws away his own bread and butter, for the more people there are ill the larger his income will be. The true civilization will dictate probably the exact reveral of these conditions. Carrying out Orders.?Mr. Tobin has risen from poverty to be a millionaire. He began life as a " steamboat clerk under Commodore Vanderbilt. When he took the position the Commodore gave him two orders. First, to collect fare of everybody and have no dead-heads on the boat; second, to start the boat on time and wait for nobody. Tobin carried out orders so strictly that he collected fare of Vanderbilt himself the first evening, and the next morning left the Commodore standing on the wharf looking quite blank. But the old Commodore admired the pluck and courage of his new clerk. So that one act of fidelity to duty was the stepping stone to Mr. Tobin's brilliant success. To have something to do and do it punctually, wisely and courageously, are the two wheels on which the chariot of success rolls. "Whatsover thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." The man who has no system about his work, who never does anything at the right time, and who is always at*the wrong place, will make a miserable failure. This applies to churchworkers with as much force as it does anywhere else. Brain Testers.?1. A boy was sent to a spring with a 5 and a 3 quart measure to procure exactly 4 quarts of water; how did he measure it? 2. A man had 9 pigs and put them in 4 pens, with an odd number in each pen ; how did he divide them ? 3. A man having a fox, a goose, and a peck of corn was desirous of crossing a river. He could take only one across at a time, and if he left the fox and goose, while he took the corn over, the fox would kill the goose; but if he left the goose and corn, the goose would eat the corn. How shall he get them all safely across the river? 4. A farmer agrees to furnish a storekeeper twenty-seven dressed turkeys in six days, he to kill and deliver an odd number each day. How many did he deliver each day in order to comply with his contract? The Doc;.?I think every family should hava a dog; it is likehavinga perpetual baby; it is the plaything and crony of the whole house. It keeps them all young. All unite upon Rover. And then he tells no tales, betrays no secrets, never sulks, asks no troublesome questions, and is always ready for a bit of fun.?[Spare Hours.