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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! Jndcptndcnt Jamiltj JUrtrapapfr: <jfoi| the |romotion of tint flolitiqnl, j&oqial, ^jijitiiltural and (?ommfi[(ial Jntcrfsfs of thq ^oiiflt. jterms?$2.00 a tear in advance* VOL. 38. YOEKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23,1893. SO. 1Q. *' " " ' *' -* J 1 "if durn 1.1 ad customer I will, to stoD all worrying?' 'Yes,'he Bismol MR By MiUHIOE THOMPSON. (Copyright, 1891. by American Press Association.! CHAPTER KTL TOK SHADOW OP EVIL. Julianturned and met the mutherheVg j concentrated glare. .. . It was some weeks after the attempted assassination of Talbot that Mr. Roosevelt, Mr, Largely and Edgar Julian re- j turned from Florida. After all, they had been outgeneraled and beaten by Ellis. Largely had attempted to get a restraining order on the affidavit and bill drawn up by Julian, but Ellis had avoided the whole matter by persuading Largely's Floridian coadjutors that it would be safer to tie their faith to a southern man rather than to an adventurer from Illinois. Mr. Roosevelt had interposed with a proposition of compromise, which, being favorable to Sir Edmond Kane's schemes, received the support of all the foreigners, and was finally, with some modifications, accepted by Ellis; but the victory was with the young mountaineer, giving him control of a strong combination of roads which, in the future, would be of immense value. "1 never saw a fellow so full of expedients and so popular with everybody," said Largely to Mr. Roosevelt during the course of the adjustment "He was the man you were going to crush inside of twenty-four hours." replied Mr. Roosevelt "You thought he had no backing." added Julian. Largely winoed, and rolling a cigar across his mouth from one corner to the other, chuckled dryly and said: "He is like an eel, when you get him you cant hold him. Talk about a Yankee being slick!" "1 shall never again think of a bill in equity without recollecting how easily he punctured your injunction scheme," said Julian, with something like harmless exultation in his tone. "After all," interposed Mr. Roosevelt "Ellis has done nothing not strictly honorable, and be deserves all be has gained." "Oh, 1 admire the fellow. Talk of western cheek and impudence?why he's worse than a lightning rod man!" responded Largely, "he talks his way riarhft through everything. As for lying. his sort of misrepresentation can hardly be called that, but he promises everything, thathe thinks will please." "The people like him and honor him greatly," said Mr. Roosevelt "He makes friends of high and low." "Yes," laughed Largely, "he has made friends even ont of us! Here we sit marshaling his various qualities and attainments. while he walks off with the prise." To Edgar Julian the calamity that had fallen upon Colonel Warren Talbot presented nothing especially strange or incomprehensible. He considered it the result of some private quarrel, growing ont of & business transaction perhaps. Of coarse he knew nothing of the circumstances that have been detailed touching the conduct of Ellis, nor of the mysterious incidents of Rosalie's moonlight walk with Talbot, and he did not dream of any possible connection of Miss Chenier with the matter. Some things he had ordered Came from Chicago daring his stay at Jacksonville; among them was . the Provence cross. One day he took this, and without any preliminary words let the gold chain attached to it * vll around Rosalie's nock. "Thus." said he. turning to Mrs. Roosevelt, "1 restore to Miss Chenier the old ancestral cross of her family." In the midst of her recent trouble Rosalie had actually forgotten her dreams of Provence and of the souvenir that Julian bad promised to retch. Now, as sne glanced at the antique cross and chain, a rush of strange sensations overcame her. A deep blnsh flowed into her cheeks, and fbbing almost instantly left her face intensely pale. Mrs. Boosevelt rose and went to her niece. She had heard from Rosalie the story of this cross, and in fact Bhe had heard it many a time in her own young girlhood. It was one of the Chenier traditions. "It is not a bad ornament," said Julian, taking a step backward and looking critically at the dull gold as it lay across the beads of red insect amber on the girl's white throat "That dent the peasant told me was caused by his hoe or mattock, or whatever he dug with, striking it; but 1 like to imagine it was caused by an arrow or spear in some - glorious fight of the olden time." He said this, knowing that Rosalie would like to hear it He watched her face closely. She looked up into his eyes with nearly the old simplicity and naivete. Her cheeks grew rosy again. He could see her imagination take fire and flame in those deep pure eyes. Mrs. Roosevelt examined the cross attentively. "1 do not know if it is genuine," she said; "but it has all the appearance of an antique thing." "Oh, it is genuine," said Julian quickly; 'it was dug up just a few days before 1 got it. I ga\e no antiquarian a chance; so soon as 1 saw it I bought it, and made the finder agree not to tell any one about discovering or selling it. 1 was afraid of litigation." "But you don't mean to give it to me," said Rosalie so sincerely and with such evident earnestness that it caused him to laugh. "Why. that's all I wanted it for," he just as frankly replied; "1 couldn't possibly put it to any use for myself. Then, you know, I promised to fetch you a memento from Chateau Chenier." Rosalie looked at Aunt Marguerite as if mutely asking a question, but that ? a!/1 lo/lv /H/l nnf nrv- I TWJ UUAi UilUg vm ?wuj UVO MV I tice it "How papa would be pleased to see Itr continued Rosalie, toying with the ornament "You might send it to him," suggested Mrs. Roosevelt "I should be afraid it might get lost or stolen on the way," replied Rosalie. "And I wish you to wear it for its memory's sake; don't ever take it off, Miss Chenier, it will bring you good fortune," exclaimed Julian. "Promise me you won't ever take it off, will you?" This last sentence was more a trembling prayer than a light remark. Before Mrs. Roosevelt could formulate a clever sentence with which to prevent it, Rosalie answered: "Yes, 1 will always wear it if you desire it You couldn't ask anything easier as a return for your generous thoughtfulness in bringing it to me." Mrs. Roosevelt caught her breath and looked helplessly at her niece. Julian recognized in Rosalie's voice the ring of utter simplicity; it was very | charming, bat just then he would have preferred a touch of artfulness or even coquetry. It seemed to him that it was high time for her to understand what he meant and to leave off this childish way of literal interpretation. In fact, consideration of this Provencal cross had made her an unsophisticated mountain maid again. A young mau who is thoroughly in love sees many evidences of originality, individuality and rare personality in his sweetheart, just as a mother sees those qualities in her babe. Julian, as he fondly gazed down upon the girl's bright shapely head and prettily drooping shoulders, thought her the very flower of womanly beauty. An hour later, when Mrs. Roosevelt had gone to the parlor to entertain some old lady visitors, Julian enticed Rosalie to the veranda. Northern persons in the south enjoy to the full the luxury of those broad verandas. The novelty of sitting in the open air in midwinter has its charm, disconnected from any influence of vines and trees and flowers and the balm of semi tropical breezes. The southerners laugh at the extremes to wKifh northern neonle cro in resDonse to I the warm influence of the climate, as, ' for instance, when youthful dandies affect the cool, airy garb of midsummer in January, or whenyoung ladies go upon the streets in white dresses and watering place hats. But Julian was not aware of any other motive than a desire to be quite alone with Rosalie when he drew her to the veranda. He took the banjo along and asked her to sing. When in a girlish, almost gleeful, voice she began Julian joined in with his clear tenor voice, she stopped in the midst and said: "Why. where did you learn my little song?" "A French artist with whom I spent some time at Agen was all the while singing it," he replied. "It is a fascinating jingle. 1 wonder if it ever was a Provencal 6ong?" "I don't know," she replied; "papa has sung it ever since 1 can remember, but always in French." "I think I should like your father very much. I want some excuse for going to see hkn as 1 pass-through north Georgia on my way home. Can't you invent some good reason?" "Are you going soon?" she quickly inquired. The thought made her homesick. "Not verysoon," he replied: "not if? ff I can help it" He stammered because there came a rush of thoughts. His going or staying was dependent upon her answer to a question he meant to submit for her consideration. He looked into her inscrutable young f&ce, and was afraid; so much hung upon the outcome of his purposed venture; if she should refuse him, what then? He saw that the color of his life would be caught from her answer. But he could not procrastinate?push and rush was the spirit of his education. Now or never had been his motto. He had drawn his chair close to hers. "I need not stay much longer," he added; "all my business here is measurably finished, and I have affairs in Chi4-V.of will onnn rlpmnnd mv at ten tion; bat I cannot go before Mr. Ellis returns from Florida with Sir Edmond Kane to close up the compromise we have effected." He saw her start as he mentioned Ellis' name; the blood slowly left her cheek; her eyelids drooped sadly; thoughtful creases came in her forehead under the shining fringe of curls. A vague pang of jealousy shot through his breast. "Miss Chenier," he murmured, "when 1 sat upon the wall of the old chateau at Provence, as the sweet shades of twilight gathered round me, 1 often heard your voice as if you were calling me back. Did you ever want to see me while I was gone?" She looked up quickly, wholly coming back from painful recollections, but her eyes fell before his troubled, burning gaze. * , "I have loved you from the first," he added passionately, "and I must tell you so. You" "Hush, sir, hush?you must not?1 can not listen?please!" She put forth her hand as if to thrust him far away from her, but the tender quaver of her voice doubled his ecstasy. "You have already heard," he exclaimed vehemently; "what more could I say? 1 love you and that is all. It means everything worth living for." He was a powerful advocate. She looked helplessly at him, a blinding mist filling her eyes. He took her hand and leaned toward her. She started and stared past him. Frank Ellis stood in the doorway opening upon the veranda. She almost leaped to her feet The banjo fell on the floor with a resonant clang. Julian turned and met the southerner's concentrated stare with very little show of embarrassment. He rose and made a movement toward greeting him cordially; but Ellis loftily ignored him. Rosalie offered her hand, and said: "We have been speaking of you, or Mr. Julian has. Will you sit down here ?we have found it delightfully airy and cool." Julian picked up the banjo with one hand, offering Ellis the other. He had not noticed the latter's attempt to avoid him. The hand was not taken, however, and with a quick sense of resentment it was withdrawn. Ellis did not sit down. He stood as if enveloped in a dark frown, his eyes gloomily questioning Rosalie's face. He seemed to be repressing a great rush of anger or some other wicked emotion. His face was a lawless, almost reckless one for the moment A mood of the mountain lif.) was upon him. Rosalie felt rather than saw this, for she had merely glanced at his face. In her own mind all the strange dark thoughts of the past few weeks had leaped up anew. Julian looked back and forth, from the man to the girl and from her to him, a weight gathering in his bosom. As a lawyer he had been a keen student of human nature and of human faces. He was conscious of the existence of a common thought between these two; it greatly irritated him. He was not prepared for such an interruption. Then, t/w Ellis' beariner was intolerable: it was evidently meant to be insulting. Snch a situation could not last long. Ellis rallied"and said to Rosalie: "Your uncle, Mr. Roosevelt?shall 1 probably find him at his office?" "Yes. I believe he and Mr. Largely are there; but won't you sit down with us awhile?" she responded, with an effort to be bright and cheerful. "No, I will come back, perhaps," he said. He flashed a glance at Julian, and bowing low before Rosalie in the old southern way, walked through the hall and out of the house. The true impression of this short interview is hard to give in words. In Rosalie's mind it l:ad I a significance which she did not like to consider. She had read in tho face of Ellis some dark resolve which might end in another deed of revenge. She turned to Julian, pale and trembling, and laid her hand upon his arm, then hesitated a moment. Finally: "Promise to ask me no questions and I will tell you something," she quaveringly murmured. "Of course 1 promise," he promptly replied, a presentiment of evil falling duskily into his inind. "You must watch Mr. Ellis; ho is a very, very dangerous man," she added, her voice falling into a whisper, which thrilled him strangely. "Oh, that will he all right, I shall not trouble him," said Julian, in a great hurry to return to the point where Ellis had interrupted him. "You must tell me now if you love me, Rosalie?Miss Chenier. The whole joy of my life depends on it?do not refuse rue?answer me, tell me now." "1 cannot think now?I do not know I what to say to yon," she exclaimed. I "Let me go. please?let me be all alone for awhile. You must not talk to me ! about?about this now." She took a step or two backward as if going to run away, then stopped and j udded, "I am dizzy," putting her hand , to her head; "I am faint." He sprang to her side, but she pushed : him away, more with a gesture than a j touch. "Excuse me?I am ill?let mo go to j my room," she managed to say; and : turning into the hall tottered up stairs. > To Julian all this was surpassingly ' strange. He could see no cause for such excitement. He was standihg all be- j | wildered, gazing up the great winding . ttairs when Mrs. Roosevelt came into the hall, her visitors having gone. "1 believe Miss Chenier is sick?I j think you had better go to her room," j he said. Then he took his hat and went i out to walk and think. He was little prepared for what was soon to follow. CHAPTER XVII. OUT FROM THE SHOULDER. Edgar Julian put a cigar in his mouth urithnnt liirhtinir it. and contemplatively i gazed at the brick or shell sidewalks as he passed along, aimlessly strolling in the breezy shade of the trees. Somehow he felt that Rojsulie loved him, notwith- , standing her strange action. It was usele. s for him to attempt to unravel just ' then the mystery of her excitement or of Ellis' unwonted impoliteness. Between j himself and the latter he knew of no i reason for a quarrel. In their business 1 transactions Ellis had had things quite his own way, and there had never been any but the kindest words between them. ; Surely the man could not be so foolish as j to fall in a passion because he was ad- , dressiug Miss Chenier! The difference ; between the north and the south at this point had not occurred to him. Therefore when after an indefinite stroll he at last found himself entering . the Pulaski House and meeting face to face with Ellis, he was profoundly sur- j prised at being accosted as follows in a i low, determined tone: "Will you at once cease your atten- i tions to Miss Chenier?" ,1 k j Straight out from the shoulder. He looked into the young man's face, expecting to see that he was drunk; but ?-i* /?noa Rn u'ua onltar iUt'II WttO UUl lUO VCIOC. UU ??MU kvwv., :alm and evidently meant to be answered. 1 glance was enough. Julian did not lesitate. "I 6hall do just as 1 please." he slowly ind meaningly replied. Quick as lightning Ellis slapped him n the face with the tip of his gloved land, saying as he did so: "You know what that meansl" What followed was something quite I lew in Savannah. Julian did not say a ! word, but squared himself like a prize j fighter, tapped out lightly with his left | hand, and followed with his right, let ting go a resounding blow straight out I from the shoulder against the side of his ' opponent's head. Ellis went whirling i back, and falling heavily at full length upon the floor lay there almost senseless, while a number of men quickly gathered around. Julian still had the | cigar in his mouth. He went to the clerk's counter and lighted it as coolly as ' though nothing had happened. In a few moments Ellis had recovered himself, but his head was terribly shaken ! by the shock, and he found it difficult to ' stand. As soon as he could fix his fiery ' eyes on Julian he 6aid: "It was a coward's blow." "You'll be a little careful hereafter about flipping your glove in my face, 1 suspect," calmly replied the northerner. "I'll put a bullet in the place of my i glove, if you are not a coward," rejoined I Ellis. "I shall defend myself at every point," i said Julian, who thereupon turned about j and went out of the room, and happening to remember that he had an engage- j meat with Mr. Roosevelt, went to his i office. He was not there. Mr. Hosea | Jenkins, the factotum, said that a very \ important telegraphic dispatch from a j relative had just been received, and that j | Mr. Roosevelt had made haste to go to his house to bear the sad news that his I niece's mother was very sick and would probably die. She wished her daughter , : to come at once. Jenkins told all this j with tho dry precision and angularity of | ! one whose mind contains nothing but | nnmorala nnd tjihlpH nf interest, market ! j quotations anil railroad time sheets. He ! sat at a high desk with a big ledger open j before him. He had a pencil behind each I , ear and a pen in his hand. { "Is it Miss Chenier's mother who is : ! ill?" demanded Julian. "Yes, in the up-country somewhere," ' replied Jenkins, who, though a Yankee, was proud of his southern acquirements. I "Will the j*oung lady go immediately?" | "Yes, sir; that is, Mr. Roosevelt tele- , graphed to his superintendent to get ready a special sleeper and engine." "How long since he left here?" ! "An hour, sir." Julian turned from the office into the street and walked rapidly to the Roosevelt mansion. It seemed to him that everything was assuming an attitude i I hostile to his happiness and hurrying i him on to some great calamity. But he ! must see Rosalie before she went away. The thought of parting from her was just now peculiarly bitter. When he reached the house a servant , ! informed him that Mrs. Roosevelt and j her niece had already gone to the station. Mr. Roosevelt wished to send their special out behind tho regular afternoon j passenger train so as to run upon its time, j Julian felt a strange sinking of tho i heart. Altogether the day had been a | trying one, and now to have Rosalie slip away from him, to be gone for an indefinite time, just when his fate was trem- j bling in the balance of her decision, was I too much. Ho drew his hand across his I forehead, upon which cold beads of per- ; spiration had gathered. lie felt as though all his will power were deserting him. | How strangely empty the great old house j 1 looked! There was her banjo leaning , against the dark paneled wall. He Jooked at his watch; it was ten ! minutes yet to train time; he could reach | the station before she was gone if he j could find a carriage. He hurried into ; the street again and looked in every direc; tion. Then he went to the Puhiski House, | hoping to find n bus or cab lingering j there; but the fates were against him. An hour later a colored boy brought 1 him a note from Mr. Roosevelt, who | wished to see him at the office. He went : immediately and found there Mr. Largely also. A conferenco had been agreed ; upon with Sir Edmoiul Kane, and this meeting was for some precautionary i I consultation. Julian's mind was more concerned with Rosalie than with business. His | first inquiry of Mr. Roosevelt was about ; her. Had she gone alone? No, her aunt j had accompanied her. They had a special car. Mr. Roosevelt had sent his oldest and most careful railroad man along with them. "But what is this rumor wo hear of a fight between you and Ellis?" said , Largely, who was highly gratified to , learn that tho mountaineer had at last ; "ran against a solid header," as he termed it. 1 Julian explained without explaining. He did not hint of any connection Miss ' Chenier's name had had with the affair. "I regret all this very much," said Mr. Roosevelt; "Ellis comes of a fighting family; he will challenge you immediately." "If he does, I'll have him arrested forthwith," replied Julian. Mr. Roosevelt straightened himself stiffly in his chair, and gazed at the young man in utter disgust. "That would be just thex thing," ex- , claimed Largely. "It might have a good educating effect on the young men hereabout if we'd make an example of one by landing him safely in the state prison. What do you say. Mr. Roosevelt?" "I should think a gentleman would get dry comfort out of such a proceeding." "Yes, hal hal ha!?yes, you're right," 1 chuckled Largely; "a gentleman would feel queer in the penitentiary." Julian was not so obtuse to Mr. Roose?' -l 1L.1 velt's meaning, tie saw ai onto mut Rosalie's uncle held strictly to the old 1 code of honor, and it fhished across his 1 mind that she, too, might do the same. Next morning ho rose from his bed re- 1 eolved not to fight a duel, let the result 1 be as it might. What cared he for southern sentiment and custom! Ho owed his allegiance to Chicago and not to Savannah. s : When he went into the breakfast room he found that Mr. Roosevelt had already gone down town, having been sent for ' by some one, the servant said. Later it transpired that it was Mr. Largely's message, and the business in hand was to consult over a sudden turn in railroad affairs. In short, Ellis had sold out all his interests to Sir Edmond Kane and party. This simplified matters, so that an adjustment of the Florida muddle proved quite easy. Mr. Roosevelt and Julian were greatly surprised. As for Mr. Largely, he swore roundly that Ellis had some devilish scheme in his head, and said that he felt sure no good ever could come of the fellow. To the further surprise of everybody Ellis disappeared us soon as his sale was consummated. Julian received no challenge. Days slipped by. A letter came from Mrs. Roosevelt announcing the death and burial of Mrs. Chenier. Julian's mission was ended and Mr. Largely was ready to return to Chicago. "I haven't seen enough of the south yet," said Julian, by way of excuse for not accompanying his employer on his northward flight; "and 1 think I shall linger awhile in Atlanta and some of the smaller mountain towns. I want to revisit two or three of the battle grounds over which I charged when a soldier lad." "All right," replied the millionaire, "you know your business best, but I in dividually have got about all the south I shall ever care for." Edgar Julian's departure from Savannah was abrupt. He read the following personal item in The News and left on the next train: "Mr. Francis W. Ellis, who recently sold his railroad interests in Florida to the English and Dutch combination, is spending a few weeks among the moun- ( tains of the up-country near Calhoun. It will be remembered that he formerly had a large distillery in that region, the capture of which by government emissaries caused great excitement at the time. It was rumored that a duel was pending between Mr. Ellis and a noted Chicago lawyer, but the matter has most probably been amicably arranged. Mr. Ellis' career here has been short but brilliant J It is understood that he netted about , $500,000 on his roads. Pretty good for a little less than three months' work!" In Augusta he tarried for a day, but why he did so he could not have told. That he was dreaming of finally making his way to Rosalie he admitted, and at the same time he did not purpose to see her at all. Love is always thus paradoxical. He knew that Ellis was up in north Georgia on no other errand than to be near her, and he could not bear to think of any one, much less Ellis, seeing her oftener than he; still he wasted a day in Augusta, idly strolling in the streets and thinking of what an unpardonable thing it would be for him to follow Miss Chenier to her home under such circumstances. When he got to Atlanta he stopped and loitered. He found much to interest him, many reminders of some hard fighting and exciting adventures. He went and stood by the blackened foundation stones of what had once been a spacious mansion on an airy hill overlooking a broad plantation in a fertile valley. He remembered how that house came to be burned. It was situated about two hundred yards from the Western and Atlantic railroad, and from its high hill commanded the track. Some rebel sharpshooters had taken refuge in it, and were galling the company to which Julian belonged. The order was given to charge the hill and fire the house. Julian, then a mere boy, was the first to reach the spot. He attacked the door with the butt of his gun and broke it in. As he did so a young woman fired at him with a pistol, the ball lightly creasing the top of his head. He was enraged and rushed at his fair assailant with leveled bayonet. She retreated and escaped, but not before he had slightly wounded her in the arm. He then lighted a match and set fire to the house. Now. as he stood gazing at the ruins, pathetically clothed in their wild brambles and half buried in ashy debris, he fancied he could hear the thunder of the fight rolling away toward Snake Creek Gap. Below him lay the valley, scarcely less a fenceless ruin than when the army had left it charred and smoking after the battle. " A J who* linrl ne tunieu awuj , ??m? become of the unfortunate family, and especially the young woman. CHAPTER XVIII. AT THE OLD MILL AGAIN. life He took her brlrjht haul between Ms hands. It would serve no good purpose to describe the sad scenes at the old Chenier mill, where, amid her humble surroundings, Rosalie's sweet and patient mother died and was buried. Mrs. Roosevelt | and her niece arrived just in time to receive the last words of the poor, wornont I woman. Just hero the veil must fall; J wo shall let a week pass after the burial before wo again approach the thread of our story. Some days passed before Rosalie thought of showing her father the cross j Julian had given her. She told him all j the young man had said about Provence J and Chateau Chenier. lie listened and became absorbed, holding tho dull gold cross in his palm tho while and gazing fondly into the sweet, saddened eyes of his child. "Since 1 lost my limb," ho said in a melancholy tone, "and have been ablo to do nothing else, I have longed a great deal to go to Provence anu see ror my-, self." "And shall we not go some day, papa?' Bhe inquired, slipping her arm gently around his ueck. Ho shook his head. "Too poor, dear, too poor," ho replied; "it requires a great deal of money to travel." "Hut, papa, 1 am not poor; [Jncle Roosevelt has settled an income of ten thousand a year on me in my own right! Colonel Chenier raised his head and gazed incredulously into her face. "You will let me take you, won't you, papa?" she sweetly continued; "Aunt Marguerite says she will go with us." He could not answer, but he took her bright head between his hands and kissed her forehead. Her voice was more than music in hia ears. "It is a long, long way, and 1 amgrowing old," he presently said, "but I do not regard this as my country now; I should like to live the rest of my days in Provence, and at last mingle my dust with that of our ancestors." "We will go," said Rosalie earnestly; "we will go and see, even if we do not stay. Mr. Julian says he sat upon an old wall at Chateau Chenier and saw the moon come up from behind a hill crowned with olive trees,, just as it is described in the troubadour song you* taught me. Mr. Julian lures au my little French songs." Colonel Chenier looked calmly askance nt his daughter and wondered if this Mr. Julian had touched her fancy. "I wish I could see your young northerner," he presently said; "you have made me like him; is he agreeable, is he handsome, Rosalie?" "I hardly know how to answer. He is kind, affable, polite, and 1 am sure he is honorable; but one can hardly call him handsome. He's a great big, strong man, broad faced, deep eyed, and, I think, remarkably intellectual." "How does he feel toward southern people? Is he a radical?" "He seems liberal; he and Uncle Roosevelt have grown to be great friends, and you know Uncle Roosevelt cannot tolerate a radical." "Has he m:ide a very warm friend of you, Rosalie?" "Oh, yes, I like him very much," she Baid with emphasis. Colonel Chenier smiled; it was the first since the death at the mill. "You haven't let him convert you to the Yankee idea, have you?" he inquired, toying with the cross and throwing a little touch of pleasantry into his voice. "No, not that, but 1 like the north, especially the west, and the people up there are delightful; they are so much in earnest, so thrifty and industrious, and yet so kind and hospitable. You'd like Chicago, papa, 1 know you would, and you'd like Mr. Julian too." "Perhaps, perhaps," said Colonel Chenier in a tone of doubt. "I suppose he is too young to have been in the Yankee army." < "Oh, he was with Sherman all the way to the sea," said Rosalie quickly; "he remembers all the little towns along the line of march; he spoke of Dalton, Resaca, Calhoun, Kingston and Marietta; ho was a mere boy, but he went through it all." A grim, ashen shadow settled over Colonel Chenier's face as her words called up the memory of his burned up home and devastated plantation, his slaves set free and his fortune dissipated by the breath of that army of Sherman's. "He was one of the house burners and woman insulters then, perhaps." fViof? lio'a fAA KJUf ll\Jf uo nuuiuu y uu vumv, www much of a gentleman to ever have been guilty of such acts," she quickly ex-, claimed, her voice full of earnest faith In the young man's innocence. "He is a proud, honorable, conscientious man, not at all what I imagined a northerner to be; but, in fact, papa, all the northern people are different from what we have thought them; they are really charming." "They were infernal vandals when they marched with Sherman, no matter what they are now. Why, don't you know that one of them stabbed A delaide in the arm with his bayonet?" "But he was some low down hanger on of the army, or some foreigner; he could not have been a representative northern man." "They were all of a piece; they stole with one hand and carried the torch in the other." Colonel Chenier was growing excited, and Rosalie artfully changed the subject of conversation. She inwardly resented having Edgar Julian classed with the common vulgar soldiery; but she did not wish to antagonize her father. She felt sure that if Julian could have a talk with Colonel Chenier he would win a way to his respect. A sense of high duty urged her to present the young man to her father in the most favorable light, but innate maidenly modesty fofibade any unseemly haste to become his defender. It would be hard to discover, and still harder to define, the amount of advantage that the simple fact of Julian's visit to Provence gave him in holding his own in the estimation of both Rosalie and Colonel Chenier; for, although the latter had never seen him, the cross and his words at second hand from Rosalie were sufficient to win for the young man a favorable prejudice in the old soldier's heart. Still there was a great barrier to pass. Colonel Chenier nursed an implacable hatred against the men whose acts?in his judgment altogether unjustified by honorable rules of warfare?had rendered hiin almost a pauper. The chains of poverty galled him and kept alive his enmity toward those whom ho habitually called Sherman's thieves. Against them he charged up all the toil, privation and humiliation of these "reconstruction years" through which he had dragged himself, a pitiable and despondent cripple. He often said that tho man who Bliot him in battle, if ho could ever find him, should have his forgiveness and friendship; but the vandals who burned his house and assaulted his daughter, who devastated his plantation and enticed away his slaves, should never bo recognized as fellow citizens by him. Aunt Marguerite used Colonel Chenier's season of grief to the effect of bringing about a reconciliation between her husband and her brothe r. A trouble had arisen between Mr. Roosevelt and Colonel Chenier over political differences inanv vears before. One had been a Whig, the other a Democrat They had come near fighting over tho question of the war with Mexico. Mr. Roosevelt ardently opposed the war policy, Colonel Chenier just as fervidly defended it. The result was a rupture. So, after tho great calamities of personal disfigurement and hopeless poverty had fallen upon Wilton Chenier with tho ending of tho rebellion, Mrs. Roosevelt had labored hard to bring these two foolish enemies together. Her husband finally consented, but Colonel Chenier, her brother, rejected tho offer. Now she had adroitly approached the latter under cover of his domestic bereavement, and had reached liis heart while it was laid bare. Rosalie added her sweet influence, and the stern man was conquered. In short, the result was, as wo have said, a reconciliation It was finally agreed that the remains of Mrs. Chenier should bo taken up and removed to Savannah and entombed in lovely old Bonaventure, and that the Chenier family should go to Roosevelt Place, to remain there until preparations could be made for Ihe trip to tho ancestral estate in Provence. Aunt Marguerite cleverly humored this Provencal dream, whose fanciful threads had, as she discovered, wound themselves about the imaginations of father and daughter; she made everything serve her turn, in fact. Rosalie had bocome her idol, and to keep that idol near her was her constant solicitude and 6tudy. [TO ltK OONTINl'KP N'KXT WKKK.] JV&y*- April 17th is Easter Sunday. piscdlancous grading. GIUNT'S CHANCE. How His Reappointment to the Army Came About, in 1861. Grant's advent as a Union volunteer was made in a very humble manner, according to the following story by an old comrade: "In 1861, Captain , of the Eighth infantry, was directed to repair to Springfield, Ills., and begin the duties of mustering officer. This was some time in April, toward the latter part, I think. Now this officer had just come in with his regiment from Texas. He had not been east before for many years. But he had no time for visiting. He at once obeyed his orders, and three days after their receipt found himself at the State capital of Illinois. "It was in the earliest da'ys of the war. The adjutant general of Illinois was a young lawyer named Mather, who died only a few days ago. "One warm morning toward the last of May, Captain was wrestling with a particularly obstreperous muster roll, when the adjutant general came in and said, 'Captain , do you know anybody named Grant?" " 'No ; I think not,' was the answer. 'I haven't been east for an age, and I was never here before.' " 'Well, observed the other, 'there was a man here this morning to see you, who said his name was Grant, and that he used to know you at West Point and in Mexico.' " 'Why, it can't he Sam Grant,' was the reply. 'I knew he was out of the army, but I haven't seen him since wc parted in Mexico.' " 'He said he would be back,' said the adjutant general, as he closed the door. "An hour thereafter Captain saw a shadow between himself and the window in front of him. "A man stood there, plainly clad, his face covered with a heavy brown beard, and lie wore a not very new soft hat. " 'Why, don't you know me, Tom ?' he asked. '"It's Sam Grant, isn't it?' said Captain , as he rose up and warmly shook hands with his comrade of old West Point and Mexican war days. He hastily ran his eye over Grant. It was clear that he was not prosperous. " 'I've come here to get something to do, but I've no influence,' said Grant, "and am becoming discouraged. Can't you give me something to do?' " 'Why, yes,' the captain replied, 'I need some one to help me with these muster rolls and you know all about them, don't you?' "The other man nodded. " 'Well, then, take that desk over there. I'll give you a hundred dollars per month, which I am allowed for a clerk, and perhaps I can help you to a commission.' . Grant nodded again, hung up his hat, and so began his service to his country in the great civil war. "He told Captain his story, and said he blamed no one but himself for his troubles. 'If I can but get a chance, Tom, I'll vindicate myself. I'll redeem the past!' And the captain, looking at Grant's swelling veins as his face flushed up, said to himself, 'If I can help Sam Grant, I will.' "So they worked 011 together, these two old comrades, till Grant's chance Anally came. "One hot summer day dispatches that set Springfield simply wild came to hand. General Polk was on his way to Cairo, Ills., with 20,000 men. The war department directed that every available man should at once be sent to the front. "There were 3,000 men in camp. Captain reported to Governor Yates that afternoon that he was ready to muster into the United States service the Nineteenth, Twentieth and Twenty-first Illinois regiments of volunteers. Uniforms and arms had been issued to the men that morning. Nothing but the muster in and making out of the field officers' commissions remained to be done. " 'Who are you going to appoint colonels and lieutenant colonels of these new regiments, governor?" inquired the captain. 'I ask because if the news be true, these officers will have to lead their men in a fight in fortyeight hours.' "The room was full of candidates for the places mentioned. They knew the captain had been in every fight in Mexico. Ho they listened uneasily to the next words of the veteran. " 'Have you any suggestions to mako?" the governor slowly said. 'By Jove! I don't wan't my troops destroyed because their officers are untrained.' " 'I have in my office," said the mustering office, 'an old soldier. He was at West Point with me, and we served together all through Mexico. He knows his business. I recommend him for a commission as colonel or lieutenant colonel for one of these regiments. "There was a hurried consultation among the candidates. "'I will give your friend the commission of colonel of the Twenty-first regiment upon your recommendation. Make out his commission, general. What is his name ?' " 'Ulysses S. Grant,' said the captain. Half an hour thereafter Captain handed the colonel's commission to Ham Grant, saying, 'Here's your chance, Ham !' "And so it was. The rest is history."?Washington Post. FISHING FOR POKI'OISKS AT IIATTKKAS. j There is only one fishing-ground for porpoises on the Atlantic coast. It is just below Cape Ilattcras, and the sport takes place during the winter season. During the summer these curious mammals?for fish they are not? i are scattered all over the ocean, but I when cold weather comes the prey on which they feed?menhaden and other small fry that travel in schools?go southward and assemble in vast numbers in the shallows about the locality mentioned. The cape affords a harrier against the fierce winds from the north, and in the waters below it these little fishes seek a shelter. There accordingly the porpoises congregate. Usually there are about twenty men in a porpoise fishing camp. There must be a sufficient number to manage four boats and as many great seines. The boats are distributed at three stations | along shore. Two of them are togetht * ...i.:i? (in. tiiif/l io <i tnil<? IT 111 OlIC nunc iiiv) mi... ... ........ above and the fourth a mile below. Each boat has a seine on board. Lookouts are continually stationed upon high bluffs to watch for game, and they signal with flags when a school of porpoises is coining. Suppose the porpoises arc coming down the coast. Warned in time by by signals, the men at the station farthest south row their boat rapidly out to sea, dropping the seine as they go. If the thing is properly managed they have been in time with their net to head off the first of the animals. As soon as the school or most of it lias got past the station farthest north, the boat from that point is run out in like fashion, dropping its seine on the way. Thus the porpoises finds themselves hemmed in between two fences of net, each stretching a mile out into the ocean. They might easily escape by swimming seaward save for the fact that meanwhile the two boats from the middle station have put out a mile from land, not dropping their seins on the way, but extending them lllO I UVUUiai* WWAVMUMf "I have had some peculiar customers," said an old Broadway jeweler, recently, to an attache of The Jewelers' Weekly; "but there was one case which I believe no one can duplicate. I have a large patronage from the men about town?the gamblers and racing people. They are very liberal buyers of jewelry when fortune favors them, and they select first-class goods, and in most instances appear to be excellent judges of quality. "The individual of whom I was about to tell you was a man who first came to my store about four years ago. He was a very shabby young fellow, whom I watched cautiously when I passed him a pair of cheap solitaire earrings in compliance with his request. He hardly glanced at them, and asked for something better, and I took the first, and brought out a a pair that were a shade higher in price. These he pushed aside also, and asked for finer goods, until I had shown him everything in my stock except a pair of earrings worth $900, which I did not care to permit him to handle. "I was a little out of patience with the fellow, and pointing to the earrings in the showcase, I told him the __J L. 1?. in a line parallel wun uie enure auu i joining the two extremes of the other seines. In this way is made within a few moments, a rectangular pen two miles long and one mile broad, in which the luckless beasts are confined. They could easily get out, of course, by breaking through the nets, inasmuch as their strength is enormous, but they do not think of that. The porpoises thus inclosed are surrounded with smaller seins and drawn in shore, where they are kept thus in a little room until the fishermen wish to kill them. Sometimes as many as 200 will be secured at a single haul. The fishery is very profitable, because there are several products of the porpoise which are valuable. The skins afford an excellent leather. Upon being stripped ifrom the animal the hides are salted down, tanned crudely and sent to northern markets, where they are used in the manufacture of shoes, traveling-bags, and other goods. The leather has a particularly fine grain, and boots made from it are given a water-proof quality by the natural oil of the skin. However, the highest-priced porpoise leather, which is very costly indeed, is obtained from the unborn young. It is of a most delicate texture and exquisitely mottled in black and white. For bookcovers it is a much admired material. Every one has heard of porpoise oil, which is used for watches and other delicate machinery. It is one of the most costly oils known, because only a few ounces of it is gotten from each animal. It is obtained from the jaws only, being dried out from the bones after the skin and flesh have been removed. There is another sort of oil, of very little value, procured from the fat beneath the skin and from the liver and other viscera. Hides are worth from seventy-five cents to $2.50 apiece, the latter being paid for the best skins of unborn calves. A school of 200 porpoises represents about $500 to the fishermen. Nobody has ever attempted to make use of the skeletons, which are scattered by tens of thousands along the shore below Cape Hatteras. They would afford a first rate fertilizer mix- i ed with phosphate.?Phila. Press. FIRST THINGS. The first bell rung in America was erected on the first church ever built in this country, early in the year 1494. Columbus landed at Isabella, in the inland of San Domingo, in December, 1493, and soon built a church. Shortly afterward a new city was begun in the royal plain of La Vega, or the city of the plains. The church, with its bell and all the other houses of Isabella, was then removed to La Vega. In the year 1542 the new City of the Plains was destroyed by an enrthnuake. About a 'quarter of a century ago, in the branches of a fig tree which had grown up among the ruins of the belfry tower of the church, a bell was seen, which proved to be the original bell in question, and this historic bell is now in the city of Washington. It is of bronze, 8 inches high by G J across, bears the letter F in old Gothic characters, and has the image of San Miguel on its surface. The first use of the period in punctuation was in the Fourteenth Century. The colon came into use about 1485, the comma about 1520, the semicolon about 1570. The first ink was in all probability the black fluid obtained from the cuttle fish. The first compounded ink was a mechanical mixture of water, guui and lampblack. The first chemical ink was an infusiou of galls in sulphate of iron. The first compound vegetable ink contained a great deal of carbon pigment, and it is this sort of ink in which the oldest manuscripts have come down to us. Pliny and Titruvius give practical receipes for making ink. The first mention of steel pens is believed to have been by Wordsworth, in December, 1806. He and his family were living in the house of Lady Beaumont at Colerton. He begins: "My Dear Lady Beaumont?There's penmanship for you! I shall not be able to keep it up to the end in this style, notwithstanding I have the advantage of writing with one of your steel pens." As early as 1830 steel pens are believed to have been known in New York schools. The first printing press in the United States began its civilizing work at Cambridge, Mass., in Harvard University, in the year 1639. The first American-made illustration is believed to be found in Tully's Almanac of Boston, in 1698. The first American copper plate portrait published in this country was in Increase Mather's "Ichabod," published in 1703. The three first engravings were Paul Revere, Benjamin Franklin and Isaiah Thomas, who distinguished himself at the battle of Lexington. The first game of cards of which there is any record and the first time cards were used by a Caucasian, was in the tent of Richard Cuuir de Lion when he was in camp near the walls of Acre, during the Crusades. Cards were first played in Europe on the return of the crusaders, and were at once used by gypsies and necromancers to foretell the future. Card playing soon spend all over the Continent. There j^'e documents in German which mention that Rudolph I, in 1275, was fond of the game. The cards which Richard was supposed to have played with were made of ivory. Canvas, papyrus and silver were the materials used in the manufacture of playing cards before paper was known. The first mirrors of which there is any record were in use among the Israelites in the time of Moses and were made of brass. \\ hen the Spaniards first landed in South America they found mirrors of polished black stone in use among the natives. The first mirror of solid silver was made by lraxitiles in the time of Julius Cscsar. In the fifteenth century the first glass mirrors were made in Germany by a blow-pipe and were convex. Ihc first manufactory of glass mirrors for ! sale was established in \ en ice early in ' II... Oi.ntnrv | MIC niAllA UUI v v J . The first match was the product of ! the ingenuity of John Frederick Komj erer, who early in this century was imprisoned in the penitentiary at llohen asperg, in Germany. He invented the j Inciter match while in his gloomy dun! geon. There were no pat out laws then, j and the Herman government forbade i the manufacture of matches on the | grounds of public policy, because some i children playing with them had caused | a fire. Komercr was ruined by Yien! nose competition when he was released, J and died a pauper. In 1842 this law j of Germany was repealed, and in 1848 a match manufacturer of Vienna had ! already amassed a million dollars, j I'p to 1802 the Viennese manufactu! rers controlled the match business of ! the entire world. i Thiuty-Fomi Stokiks limit.?The I Odd Fellows of Illinois are preparing | to erect one of the grandest structures to be found in the country at Chicago, j It is to be twenty stories high in the i main structure, with a central tower 1 fourteen stories high, making the | building in all .84 stories or, 550 feet in ' height. It will be provided with four stairways and 18 elevators reaching to the top story. The ground floor will cover an area of 4.8,000 square feet, or one acre, while the aggregate of all the | floors, not included in wall partitions 1 and corridors, will exceed 300,000 1 square feet, or something over eight acres. One of the floors will be a drill hall with an area of 8,000 square feet. price, anu ue miiueuiuici^ asncu w see them. Thinking that he might make an effort to grab them and run away, I lifted them from their velvet case and walked around the counter, holding them up to the light, as if my change of position was actuated by a desire to show the stones to the best advantage. "He examined both stones very closely, and almost took away my breath when he said he would take them, and at the same time pulled out a large roll of bank notes from his pocket. He counted out $900, and after I had wrapped the earrings he bade me good night and hurried away. I was nonplussed. The man was a mystery to me, and I often thought of him, until one night about a month later when he came again. "He wore a shiny silk hat, and his shabby clothing had been replaced by neat but very expensive garments. He saw that I recognized" him, and after a few words about the weather, drew from his pocket the earrings I had sold him, and said that his wife disliked the settings, and he desired new ones. I showed him several other styles and he soon selected one. "Then he told me that he had expected a large amount of money, but had been disappointed, and finally, in a very frank, business-like manner, asked me if I would lend him $500 until the earrings would be re-set. It looked a little like pawnbroking, but I believed that the man was in close quarters financially, and after critically examining the stones to see that they had not heen changed, I gave hiin the money. "At the time when I had told him the earrings would be ready, he came, paid me the amount borrowed, and twenty dollars for the settings, but insisted that no allowance should be made for the old settings. He thanked me for the favor, and went away. "A week later he came again for new settings and a five hundred dollar loan, and he continued haviug those stones reset at irregular intervals for nearly four years, each time asking for the money, and always paying it at the time appointed for the delivery of the earrings. "During our long acquaintance I learned from him that he was an inveterate gambler who played high stakes, and that the diamond earrings I i 1 ?Know K/\nr?V*f AO a n?VQt. IIuu ungiuanj uccii uisu???v i? mvw? egg for days when luck was against him. He feared that a pawn broker might change the stones, so instead of raising money on the earrings in the usual way, he adopted the novel scheme in which involved me. "Who wore the earrings? Nobody. He carried them around in a chamois bag. Did I not not find it troublesome to have him borrowing and returning money so frequently ? No; I liked the fellow, and, aside from that, it paid me handsomely. His last visit here was a couple of months ago, when he left the earrings after taking out their twenty-second setting, and took away with him $500. "The night they were to be finished I received a request from the man to call at his rooms. I found him alone in a cheerless little hall bedroom, dying of pneumonia. He was very grateful to me for having been his banker, [ as he put it, and asked me to see that he was decently buried, after telling mc to keep the earrings for the money advanced and for the funeral expenses. "I complied with his request. Have I the diamonds yet? No; I sold them last Christmas for twelve hundred dollars, and they are now worn by one of the most fashionable women in the city." PANAMA HATS. Panama hats are so named from the circumstance of their being shipped from the port of Panama, says The Galveston Globe. They are manufactured in Ecuador and the neighboring States. The material used is the fiber of the leaf of the screw pine, which is related to the palms. It grows only on t he slopes of the Andes. The leaves are on slender stems that spring from the ground. They are about two feet long, fan-shaped, and four-parted. Each of the segments is ten-cleft, so that when the leaf is folded, as in the hud, there are eighty layers. The fibers of these leaves are finely plaited, and each hat consists of a single I piece of work. The plaiting of the ; liats is of a slow and tiresome process. Coarse hats may he finished in two or three days, but the line ones take as many months. The work is begun at the crown and finished at the brim. The hat is made on a block, which is placed on the knees, and has to be constantly pressed with the breast. About 200,000 dozens of these hats are made every year. The price varies according to the fineness of the material and the quality of the work. They are valued at from $5 to $100. Panama hats are much prized for wear in the tropics, because of their lightnesss and flexibility. They may be rolled up and put into the pocket without injury. In the rainy season they are apt to get black, but by wash ing them witli soap aim water, uc.uiii)^ tlu'in with lime juice or any similar acid, and exposing them to the sun, their whiteness is easily restored. In Australia there is manufactured a hat which is said to resemble the Panama hat very closely. It is made from the unexpanded leaves of a native plant, which are immersed in boiling water and then dried. The fiber obtained by this treatment is plaited as in South America. t'nder the name of "ehattahs," a kind of umbrella hat or sunshade is i made in India of the leaves of a palm or of the plantain leaf. Chattahs are worn by the plowmen, cow-keepers and coolies of bengal and Assam. Tiik Kkmkdy for Worrying.?A correspondent relates this incident with its lesson : "Last night I had a long talk with a lawyer distinguished and able. He is now fifty years old. I re; marked as to his apparently vigorous health. 'Yes,' lie said, '1 am perfectly | well. Two years ago I turned over a J new leaf. I have broken down two or I three times in my life, and I knew that ; unless* did something I should break down again.' 'And what did you do?' I asked. 'I made up my mind that I wouldn't worry about my business.' 'And were you able, by this act of your replied, 'I was. No matter how hard a case I have, or how discouraged the outlook is in any of the business, I never let it trouble me out of the office. Why, the other night I slept twelve hours.' "I stood in astonishment before this wise jurist and strong man, in admiration for such determination. Not every man, possibly, has this power of will; not every man at the age of fifty can give up worrying. But I believe that most men by the supreme power of will could cause themselves to worry much less than they do." RESCUED BY A PIG. On an Arkansas farm lives a six months old pig who deserves a share of the laurels usually accorded to faithful and intelligent dogs who save life. The owner of the farm has a young daughter who has always been delicate. He gave her the pig when it was hardly larger than his own band, thinking it might amuse her. She raised the little animal, became much attached to it, and the two played together every day that" she was able to be out of doors. The other day?the father tells the story in the St. Joseph News?about five o'clock in the evening, I heard the * J r It.. l..naA T Irnnro norn souuu iruui iuc uvunc. * ?uvn something was wrong, and I dropped my work and ran. My wife said, "O, Nathan, I can't find Nellie anywhere! The last I remember seeing her, she was playing under the big tree by the gate." It was a whole minute before I could gather up my sense. Then I went and let out the pig. He ran around the yard, and stopped to eat some crumbs which Nellie had left under the big tree. All at once away he went, with his nose to the ground, running so fast that I could not keep up with him. He plunged into the woods, and I plunged in after him. At last he turned suddenly to the left, and went racing down the slope. My heart went down into my boots. At the bottom of the hill lay a marsh covered with a green growth, and I almost knew that poor little Nellie had walked into it, and was drowned. I hurried down the hill, but at first I couldn't see anything of the pig. Around a bend in the marsh, what do you think I saw ? On the bank, with his feet firmly braced, was the pig holding Nellie out of the water as best he could by her clothing. I thought at first that she was dead, and she did come very Hear slipping away from us, but we finally brought her around. OVERCROWDED OCCUPATIONS. You wish to render your boy independent? Then give him a trade. The professions are overcrowded. Look at the increasing numbers of those who are studying for the law, the ministry, or the medical profession. Count the numbers of doctors, lawyers, and ministers who can barely eke out an existence. Scrutinize the advertising columns of any of our newspapers and see the overwhelming numbers of those who seek employment, having nothing to offer but willing hands and feet, ordinary intelligence, and very little education. Just look at the army of clerks and so-called bookkeepers constantly offering their services; indeed, it would be more i-?A iruiaiui lu stiy uc^^iu^ iui ciupivjment at anything that offers. These are the direct consequences of an overcrowding in those employments which do not require a knowledge of any mechanical trade. It is not so bad where these boys have parents with means who can help them, but when they have nothing but what they can earn, it would be well if false pride and prejudice were made to give way to their interests. The age needs intelligent, well trained mechanics. And see how they progress! It is not necessary here to cite examples of living men, who, after having thoroughly learned a mechanical trade, have, by industry, economy, brains and force of character, lifted themselves into enviable positions of business success, honor, wealth and trust. There are plenty who, from small beginnings, have attained success. All work is honorable and ennobling. The good mechanic is always in demand; be lays the real I foundation of business success, and his industry is an absolute necessity to the capitalists. The old objection that the mechanic lacks refinement is invalid. He is not excluded from true culture, and if many of those who now make the mistake of studying an unprofitable profession should learn a trade instead and determine to lead a refined life, it will not be long before this somewhat imaginary reproach is taken away. It is not advisable that all should rush into the trades; but the fact remains that they offer a good livelihood, steady employment, and a fortune to those who have the patience and industry to find it. Queer Antipathies.?-"Talking of peculiarities of appetite," said a citizen in conversation, "I know a man who has not eaten a mouthful of meat in twenty years." "A vegetarian, eh?" queried a listener. "No; he took a sudden dislike to meat of any kind and gave up eating it. But he could not tell himself what caused the change in his appetite." "My wife can never eat an oyster," I said one present, "without her skin ! breaking out with purple spots as large ! as dimes. She feels no uneasiness, but naturally does not like to be spotted like a pard." "I was acquainted with a woman out I West," said another of the party, "who ! broke out with prickly heat whenever ! she saw or tasted goat's milk cheese. | Her husband brought some into the house and hid it in the cupboard. I When she approached it she began to ! shiver and declared that she felt the > strange prickly sensation. " 'If I did not know that there was no cheese in the house, I should think I %# H'OO ' clin vnmnplrpil "Then her husband acknowledged that he had done it to test her. The physiological effect satisfied him that it was not in the imagination." A strange antipathy was t hen related ' by a young doctor present. "I had ordered a pair of new and fashionable trousers when I was taken I ill with a severe attack of jaundice. The garments were made and sent home but I was too sick to wear them, j and after looking at them and seeing I that they were just as I ordered them, I laid them away. When I was well I 1 was about to wear them when I recalled all the symptoms of my illness, I and I could not endure the sight or touch of them. I tried again and again with the same result. There is no law in materia medica to account for such j a manifestation." 6ST A gentleman not long since, in one of his rides in Southern Illinois, sought to make himself interesting to a good-looking mother of a sweet baby . . occupying the next seat in the car. After duly praising the baby, he rei marked to the mother, "lie's a real Sucker, (meaning Illinois born) I suppose?" "No, sir," said the lady, blushing; "we had to raise him on the bottle." The gentleman resumed his reading, and has not bragged on any strange babies since. BST" For chapped lips, dissolve beeswax in a small quantity of sweet oil and heat carefully. Apply the salve j two or three times a day, avoid wetl ting the lips.