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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER. BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 18, 1877. NO. 6. VOLUME XXV. Storms. At night, witliin my lonely room, So shelterless and high, I dread tlie storm winds when they coino And sweep the earth and sky ; They seem to shake the feeble wall, As with a giaui s rr' And oft I look to see it fall In desperate alarm. But if in ill the darkened sky I see one gleaming star, I smile to hear the rough winds try My confidence to mar ; Or if the moon, so calmly bright, Between the clonds appears, Then, though the storm be at its height, I bid farewell to fears. Or if by day the storm winds come And drive the clouds with might, If for one instant shines the sun, I know that all i* right. still when these are out of sight i I see tho blue of Heaven, No terror can my soul affright Of winds and storm clouds driven. I know then that the storm I dread Shall have no power to harm, And that the darkness overspread Need give me no alarm. , 'Tis so of other storms that come My spirit to appall, No evil shall by them be done While Heaven iR seen through all. MARGARET. A corridor at the eud of one wing of a lar( rambling house in the north of England, barred window and a closed door. In the pa s&ge a fair haired girl with the light of ind Njnuauit; J?U* am aiv;a uvtvimv v,|vc, nuvvxat upon the boards, and pushing biscuits at sweetmeats underneath the ill-fitting d<xj which disappeared as fast as they were place there, showing that there were human nam to seize them on the other side. Within, a other girl as young as the first?not twent certainly?groveling on tho floor like a wi b last, with dark, disheveled hair almost hi ing the spark of insanity that desecrated h glorious eyes, and devouring the precious mo sels that her visitant placed within her reai with the avidity of a hungry child. The roo , in which she crouched was not. comfortless, b had evidently been prepared for tho recepti< of such inmates, and the carefully guard window and cushioned walls showed that tl mansion in which it was situated was occupii by one who made it the business of his life receive such unfortunates into his profession care. In plain words, a private Innatic asvlni " My poor Leah!" whispered the fair liairi girl outside, " do you know that I am here, ai that I love yon ?" The soft clear voice was not unheard, f Leah raised her head for a moment, and s listening, with the dark cloud of tangled lis thrown back from the low forehead and d< ep chaded eyebrows. But the look of atteutii JJiiKSeu ttWttV umturt aw ia}/u.?i> an u. xiava u'tu and in another moment her .head was dov again on the floor, and the softly set lips, th see mod made only to shape 'ove's whispei mnrmnred stupidly and hungrily: " Mor more !' ' "I am going now," said the soft voice ngai ' bat I will come and see you this evonin with tho nurse. Do you hear ? Do you unde stand ?" There was nothing but an inarticulate mi) mur in reply, though she listened in vain ; ai the fair haired girl rose witl* a sigh from h knees, and passed from the desolate corrid into the more habitable and cheerful part the house in which the physician and hi> fami lived, having learned from habit to look lighl on the empty human shrines of roason tli were sheltered beneath the same roof. " t?nc is so neauuiui : saiu iuu j^iri iu in pelf as she went down tlio stairs. " I ho God does nor let her know what she is now, she wonld die. as I should do." "My dear Margaret," said her mother, loo ing up as her eldest child entered the rooi "I hope yon have not been among the p tients again?" "I have only bacn to see poor Leah." sa Margaret FemVick, in the same soft voice whi N-as one of her greatest charm-t. "I must i that, you enow, if it makes her less unhappy "Let the child alone." said Dr. Feuwic " She .ill do herself no harm, if she does r body else any good. But you did not wo xipo'a Brooker's fceliacs to give you the key hope, Margaret? The door was locked, course ?" " I talked to her through the door, that w all, answered Margaret, simply. Jt'apa, < yon think she will ever be like other peoj again ? It was only last week she was sittii here with us all, and I was teaching her play the accompaniment to her soncs!" ''I know a'.l that," said the physician, "b she is suffering from an acnte attack of deme tia now. She is very young, and tnav get coi pletely over it, but then she will ho altva liable to a relapse. A sudden tronhle wou do it at anytime." "And she has money, too!" sighed Mi Fenwick, half enviously, "as if it was a sin th so much good material for happiness should wasted. "Didn't you say she had money?" "Thirty thousand pounds, I believe."sn Wier husband, dryly, "but I think thero n thirty thousand good reasons why nobo should envy her." ****** ? It is five years since Marg .*et Fenwick ku at the corridor door, whis-iring soft words love aud sympathy to th' unhappy girl insit She is living in Lo'don ?ith her motli now, for Dr. Fenwick has been dead sometin aud the establishment at Horewood is brok up. The gentle charm of her loveliness is in its fir ft flower, and, as sho lingers over t letter which is* in her hand, the clear light happiness is irradiating her brow and laug ing back from the soft sweet eyes The wor that a man writes to his promised wife cot be answered in no more fitting wpv : "MyDea.re8t Child : I have got nil t way to Wales safely, and the whole family collected here under the paternal roof." needn't say that one thing is wanting to n and that, I hope, will soon be supplied, for. course, you will come down and spend Chri mas with us. My father and mother bo want words to express their anxiety to see y and reosive you as a daughter. Write and s how soon you can come. " We are very quiet here, but there are o or two new people in the village. .A Mi Fourier has taken the White Honse, and h daughter is a regular acquisition. The c lady is not much, bnt Lean Fourier plays a sings divinely, and is unusually good looki into the bargain. The girls are mad abc her. ? "You can tell how hard up I am for ar thing to tell when I am forced to write abo "strangers. I suppose you would get tired of if I were to keep on telling you that I love yc ". . but I have very few other ideas in my he just now at any one time. Besides, isn't much pleasanter to toll it with your dear ha in mine? Your own Abthdb Abhtox.' " Leah Fourier!" repeated Margaret to hi self, dreamily, "I hopg she wont rememt me. I wonder whether mad people recoil< anything that has passed when they are we Thas would be the most wretched part of w aU! Leah Fourier is singing " Si tu sayais," a Arthur Ashton is leaning over the piano, l?x ing into her magical eye*., with an expressioi well, which would mei.. a good deal with so r>\nr* knf trviiph ia morolr o Margaret tries to believe, with Arthur Ashfc She has been at Liwyn-y-mawr a fortnif how, and has found Leah Fourier almost constant ail inmate of the housoas her.-olf. ] then, as Arthur said, the girls ai> mad a In her, and there certainly is an enehantm somewhere in her glowing face before wh few are able to stand. The song is ended, and Margaret Fenwi< j'uwoc strolls after the singer into tho c servatory. " If I wore yon, Margaret, I should go ai them, really," says Arthur's eldest sister, i laughing. " Leah would flirt with the footm I believe, if there was nobody else in the w It was just the same when poor Charlie wai home." Margaret tries to smile, and to keep her w fill eves turned away from the conservat door, but she cannot help speculating a li ai to tho difference between " poor Charl and his brother. As to Leah herself, she lnrd!y form a calm rational opinion, so i fcrent is this Leah from the girl with the v eves, whose poor uncertain fingers she 1 I ; helped to find tlieir old familiar places on the piano at Horewood fivo years ago. She feels rather than knows that the past is not all a j blank to Miss Fourier's brain, bnt no word of | recognition has passed between tho girls, and j it is plain at an,.' rate that nothing of that : | dreadful episode in Leah t> life is suspected by ! tho Ashtons. Ten minutes?a quarter of an hour goes j I slowlv bv, and Leah saunters back into the ! drawing-room, with a spray of maidenhair in | her hands, and tho passion of her song still ' half slumbering in those deep mysterious eves, j ; "Mr. Ashton is going to be land enough to see i me home," she remarks generally for every- I j body's information, and Margaret feels the same ! j sudden chill that had come to her the night j I before for the first time, when her lover had 1 ! undertaken the same surely unnecessary duty, j i It is almost a relief to her to remember that j this is her last evening with tbo Ashtons, and that the next day Arthur is to take her back to i London. I Nevertheless, the chill comes back to her heart more unmistakably than ever next night, ! for Leah Fourier, and the conservatory, and j j Arthur Ashton are all left behind. He found | that he could take another week's holiday, lie j j tolt} her, and she could not be selfish enough 1 j to propose that he should spend two days in i 1 traveling, merely for the sake of taking her j home. So their good-bye was said at the little I Welsh railway station, but something fell out of his pocket as'he was taking her ticket, and she could not help seeing that it was a bit of maidenhair fern. It was a pity that it should be crushed under a stranger's foot before he could recover it?but then there was more in the conservatory ! ] * *' * * * Four, five days without a letter, during which ' j time the chill never leaves her heart, and then I 1 there comes what she has been looking for. He j j asks her if she is good enough, unselfish j j enough, to forgive him, and ad-Is. of coursc, j I that he can never forgive himself. ' Well, Leah is his, body and soul, if he ; i chooses to take her. Would he choose if he ! knew of the corridor at Horewood, and had ?e I seen the lips he loved cloying themselves with j a ; sweotmeats that soft, compassionate huids j thrust by stealth within their reach V She puts j c- away the thought from her with a shudder, ; >g , calling upon God not to tempt her to come held , tween him and his happiness. If it can all be t r. i hidden from him it would be a sin in her, of all j 2d i women in the worlJ, to say a word which might ! 3s j dash the cup from his lips. She would drink ' ii- , her own cup instead, ana irv ;o sweeten u, uy v, | the thought that the man she loved was happy J Id ! with the girl for whom she had once felt so | d- [ divine a pity. er The months go quickly enough by, now that : r- j Margaret no longer counts how" many tliero are :h | between the seen and blossom of her liappi- I m I ness, and she knows that Arthur Ashton must nt ; have brought his bride back with him by this j >n i time to his London home. Margaret shudders ! 2d as she remembers that there is still a secret ! lie | hidden from Arthur Ashton in Leah's mysteri- j 2J | oils eves?a secret which she aloue can read,and tc J would give half her life to be able to forget, al J Would it ever happen that he should come to n. her and curse her for having hidden it from ad j him, to revenge herself ? id j That she is revenged, God knows how nn- i j willingly, Margaret sees the first time she holds \ or Arthur Ashton's hand in hers again. He has I at ! written to ask her if ho may come to her.: lir , and satisfy himself of her forgiveness, and her j Jy love is dead enough in her heart for her to be ' in [ able to tell him "yes." She has even ceased j ie. to wonder at the dreariness of her own life, : m i and is vaguely couscious, as he takes her hand, at of the same great pity for him and the woman j s, I who had supplanted her, that tilled her heart e, j as she went down tbo staircase at Horewood, j j leaving the cold corridor aud the locked door u, j behind her. g, " You have fonud out how little I was worth >r- your regret V" ho says,forcing an uneasy laugh, | as ho sees that the old quiver ho remembers in ir- , her lips is there no longer. id t " No, not that," answers Margaret, simply, j er j " but it is quite true that I regret nothing ; or | nothing at least that''? She stops, knowing of j that it is. too late to tell him now what she does | Ely j regret, and what she tries to persuade herself i :ly i she is mistaken in regretting. "You must be I at very happy?you are nappy, are you not ?" she ' i asks, anxiously. r- ! " How long* do you expect a bridegroom s po I happiness to last?" ho asks, in reply, with an I or j affectation of levity that tells Margaret she has ! I been .sacrificed in vain. "Leah has been talk- ; ik- i ing of coming to see you for the last month, do ; m. | you know ?" ia- "She is very beautiful," said Margaret, irrelo- i vantlv. " Is she quite well ?" ii(l " Well ? of eour.se she is," he answers, in uot j ch quite so even a voice. " Why should she not do be well?"' '." Margaret's heart turns sick with the liorri- j :k. hie apprehension that he has already learned to j 10- suspect a reason why. "I only meant that I | rk should be very glad to see her," she answers in i , I what she strives to make her natural voice, j of Will you tell her so from me ?" " You knew her before that time you er.me to j as stay with us, did you not?" ho asks, looking at i do her with a keen, inquiring glance. " Why did | )!e j you never tell me of that ? Qg I " Yes ; that is, I met her years ago," answers . to | Margaret, hesitating. "I did not think the re- j J membered me; but I knew her again as soon as ut | I saw her." n- "Did you ever quarrel?" the bridegroom | in- asks, a little puzzled by her manner. ys "Oh, no," replies Margaret, with a shudder, ild I thinking of the crouching figure and tho I ereedv. clutching hands that she had stolen up i pa. the long corridor to soothe into content, at " But she was always a strange girl; and I be ' nover understood her quite," she adds, rather ! lamely. tid " Yes?strange?that is the word, is it not?" ire I he says, eagerly. " She'? nervous and depressed dv : sometimes, you know, hut that is nothing, j j She used to "be that- -that is what you mean, it not?" . i It goes to Margaret s heart to see the wistful j look with which lie waits for her answer, striv- | ?" i ing to put away from his thoughts the awful j fear which she knows has already overshadowed j iel" j his life. 10> "I think she was always nervous," she ; j answers, wishing that she dared say something to comfort him, if she could do so without a 1 "2 lie. " But of course, now that she is happy, there is nothing to be anxious about in that." j " Tell her how glad I shall be, if she likes to .j? ' come," she says, earnestly, when Arthur uc* Ashton takes her hand in iiis again to say ! good-bye. ho " Yes, I will tell her," lie answers, but all the j is unreal cheerfulness lias died out from his ! I voice. "It will do her good to have a friend ! le, ! like you-some woman to whom she can talk." \ of , Margaret does not answer, for the tears are , ?t- | filling her eyes; but it needs no words to tell ; th | Arthur Ashton that the heart he has thrown ' on away is large enough for ? hat he asks of it. j ay Tlie months go by, but Leah Ashton still only i talks of coming to see the girl whose placc in ne i life she has taken from her; so that Christmas rs. | comes around again without Margaret having | ier i seen her rival, since tho evening on which Id Leah came out of the conservatory, with the ! nd , spray of maidenhair in her hand. There is a j ng > reason why Mrs. Ashton should stay in her own iut house now,and Margaret is not surprised to see I in the paper one day that Arthur Ashton has : iv- | auotker cause for beiutf " verv happy. She >ut almost persuaded herself that lie may be so by ' it | this time, and writes to tell him of her hope, j in. with her dear love to his wife. She did not think I ad that such a letter required immediate acknowl- j it edgement, and opens his reply a little anxiously, nd hearing that it has beer, brought by a spoci'al 1 messenger. Br- " Come, if you can, at once?she is asking >cr 1 for you. God have mercy upon mo! A. A." | Ho isjwaiting for her at the door as she 11 v drives up, and even in the gas-light she cau seo it upon his brow an awful dread that his prayer will not be heard. " You are not afraid to see her V' ud Margaret puts her hand in his by way of j jk- j reply, and her very touch seems to give him i_ | courage. me i " She is not quite herself, you know?not j gy, | sensible, I mean?but the doctors say that is j ' common. And your name has been on her lips ?ht &U day. She will be calmer when she sees you, 1 a* ' will she not ? ' 3ut j " Yes, yes," says Margaret, choking back her aut' tears. " Only take mo to her at once." cut j She kneels by the bedside, disregarding the ich I presence of t e doctor and nurse, and her soft i arm ct/.ilu Wirwrlv T nnV.'a r^n,.L- .uin tl... :k's 1 old days. ou- j "Dear Leah, I am here," she whispers. ! The heavy lids open, and tho dark mystery 'ter of the wonderful even, blurred and scorched lalf ; with the lurid fire that Margaret remembers so an, ' well, is turned full upon her. ay, ! " Don't go away," Le&h whispers.ina hoarse, i at ' exhausted voice. * " They are shutting me up alone again." ist- j Her husband is standing at the foot of tho ory bed, with horror-stricken wondering face, but ttle she has no eves for him.. ie " " It is so dark and miserable, Margaret, but can , I will be quiet if you stay. Make thom let you dif- : stay, do you hear ?'' irild I The weak voice rises almost to a scream, and tiad I Margaret%iee in vain to Boothe it. " Yes,dear Leah,I am Margaret. Dear Leah, vou know that I lovo you! Oli, my poor darling, you know tbat I love you!" Tlio surgeon, who is standing opposite Margaret, shakes his head solemnly as she raises her eyes to meet his, and the shadow of death begins already to steal o*er the room. Even the lips are chill and pallid as Margaret touches them with her own, and the feverish grasp of the poor, weak hand dies into impotence in her 1 warm fingers. The dark, tangled hair falls over the shapely t?row and thick, curved eyebrows just as it used to do, and Margaret does not know,until .bo is told, that it is veiling tho face of Ihe dead. And there is no ueed for her to pity Leah Ashton any more. An Oriental Ruler's Cruellies. i When tho French finally minced : Constantino, one of the Algerino cities, < in 18-18, the palace of Hadj Ahmed ex- j cited geuoral admiration, and the women : of his large harem caused unusual i curiosity and compassion, from the tales i spread of his cruelty to them. He sprang from a wealthy family of the i place, and bad been kliulila under the Bey Brahamel-Iiubbi, but exciting the jealousy of that ruler, fled to Algiers. There he won the good-will of the pasha, and in 1826 became himself bey of Constantine. His cruelties were the theme of every tongue. A summer-house used to be shown in his garden where he was accustomed to sit and smoke, while his harem, all attired in their finest array, passed one by one before him. They were required to keep their eyes cast down, their arms folded across their breast in a modest attitude. One day one of these women, as she passed through the garden, plucked an orange. The Hadi Ahmed ordered her hand to be nailed up to the tree. One of his four wives was an Italian girl named Aiclia, carried off, when a child, with her brother. She was a queenly young woman, and, after the French occupation, was instructed, and in time married a rrencn omcer. jner j influence Lad been great with tlie Hadj 1 Alimed, yet vrhen her brother, after ris- 1 ing to a high rank in the army, dis- ] covered finally that his sister was in the ] harem, tbe Hadj Alimed put him to 1 death for daring to ask to see her. j One day some of the women found a j pipe, and, to divert themselves, dressed < one of their number in a turban and : robes, and set her up to smoke while i they waiticl upon her. Hadj Ahmed ] burst in upon this childish scene, tore : his mock representative from her seat of honor, had her mouth sewed up a? a , punishment for daritig to place his p'pe , within it, and ordered her to be put to : death. 1 From time to time, during his rule, two men would be seen at night, one bearing to the height overlooking the 11 _f J.I.. T> 1 ? 1??? nrim, ?f VUUUJ ui tilt; ivuuiuci u iuu? vkj.x w|/vm c*w cach end, the other a white sack from which smothered moaus escaped. Halting at three stones, the box was placed on the middle one, the sack slipped in, one end of the box raised, and the sack shot out down a precipice of six hundred feet. Some hours later men approached the sack on the rocky bank of the river, opened it, took out a woman's corpse, and conveyed it to the grave. This monster lived many years aftei his overthrow, and died an object ol horror. What Farmers' Sons Ought to Know. To those who prize the freedom peculiar to a life in the countrv. and also the security of a steady occupation, the pursuit of farming in this country offers great advantages. Every talent that the most gifted young man possesses may be exercised in connection with agriculture, and the more finished his education the better will be his chances of gaining culture from his surroundings and acquiring influence with his neighbors. Already a large portion of the permanent wealth of our nation is in the hands of farmers, and every facility is offered by our laws for any one who wishes to secure a farm for himself. The introduction of machinery for almost all kinds of farm work, the multiplication of meanB of transportation, and the great lemand in cities and towns for the best farm produce, makes it necessary for a man to know the cost of each crop he raises that he may devoto his time and labor to that which pays the highest per cent, on capital invested. Hundreds of farmers annually dispose of their wheat, potatoes, apples, corn, cattle or horses at the market price, without knowing j the actual cost of production of any i crop. As a natural consequence they j go on year after year in the same way; j while by knowing exactly the cost of rafs- j ing a bushel of wheat or a ton of hay or a i pound of wool, they could soon decide j where "their profits lay, and discard the j crops which experience proved to bring j them only loss. Now to know the precise cost of auy ; farm product, it is as necessary that a 1 farmer should keep accurate accounts as ! lor a merchant or manufacturer. To no j class of business men is a practical j knowledge of book-keeping more valuable than to our farmers. Because many have succeeded without it in the ' past does not alter the case. A higher j standard is before the farmer now. I Their produce must be of good quality to meet with ready sale, and to insure that success now demands that capital be invested in good buildings, machinery and improved kinds of grain, fruit and live stock. They need to know the exact returns yielded by all such investments, which cnn be ascertained only from a complete and accurate system of accounts. Let us impress upon young farmers, stockdealers and fruit-growers the vast benefit you would realize from a course of ; business training. Better give a year of I your time now to this study; you would | be more than repaid for your time and ' money iu five years. Surely it is time tho leading industry of our State and j country was conducted on the same ! principles that control less important ' interests. Wasted Benevolence, The beuevolent old man looked out, from the window of the car, and wliis-: tied to a newsboy. Three dashed in at' the front door, and four in the back. The benevolent old man bought a paper j of the smallest boy. In making change j the 1ml dropped two cents. He went l down on his knees in an instant and soon found the money. However, he did not ceaae searching. Suppressed sobs were heard, while lie dug his fingers in the holes of the mat. The passengers became interested. "What's the matter, my boy ?" said the benevolent old man, j loweriug his glasses anil peering over i their rims. "I've gone and dropped a ; dime, an' I can't find it," whimpered the i boy, as he thrust his hand under the j seat. " Dad'll wallop me when I gets J 'home." "Never mind, let it go," said I I the benevolent old man. "Here's an-1 other one." The boy took the coin | meeklv, and. as he passed the conductor, j remarked " sold again." I % Ferocious Attack on a Paymaster. One of the most desperate daylight attacks on record was made in Scrantou, Pn., a few weeks ago, by a pair of masked robbers, upon Paymaster Bessell, of the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western railroad company, and bis assistant, Captain Carling, while on their way to i pay the employees at the Cayuga and Brisbin collieries. The murderous affair occurred within a stone's throw of j the Brisbin mine, at a short distance \, from the main road, between Hyde Park |! rind Providence, almost in the midst of a J; thickly populated settlement, and shortly : after one o'clock in the afternoon. Pay- j master J. H. Bessell and Captain W. H. L Carling were driving leisurely along, in I n buggy in which they had the money j , forthe men, amouuting to twelve thou- J sand dollars, and on arriving at a point I of the road which is crossed by the railway, and guarded by a gate on each side of the track, they halted for the purpose of Mr. Carling getting out and opening the gates that they might pass through. The captain was just in the act of re moving tne lap-rooe irom nis Knees, j when he and bis companion were startled by the sudden appearance of two masked robbers, who had been crouching by the ( roadside in wait for them, and now 'prang up and pointed pistols at their j lieads. The men were closely masked with something that completely covered ( their faces, so that it was impossible to !?et even a glimpse of their features. , They were quite close to the buggy, being no more than two yards from the liorse's head, and their appearance fairly | unnerved the paymaster and his assist- i! mt for a moment. They made no de-1 maud, and it was evident from their de-1 termined demeanor that it was their in- j tention to murder and rob the men in !. iharge of the miners' pay. In less time j than it takes to tell it, one of them dis- . charged his revolver at Captain Carling's head, which, fortunately, was inclined . backward, owing to the position he had : taken to get out of the buggy. The bullet glanced along his loft cheek, and . plowed its way through the skin of the temple, leaving a ghastly mark, but . fortunately going whistling harmlessly . beyond its intended victim. Such a sud- ( den shock, thrilling situation and narrow escape from instant death, fairly . stunned the captain for the moment, but summoning up his accustomed coolness and courage, he was out of the buggy in an instant and he cried to his companion: "Shoot them?shoot them [lown !" The horse, frightened by the report of the assassiu's pistol, plunged forward, making it a difficult matter for Mr. Bessell, who was still in the carriage, to take aim at the assassins, but before the words were elioken his revolver was leveled at the highwaymen, at whom he fired. It wa3 a close struggle. The 1 r.?4.1 ??> ii muruerers were uuw uu iuiluci uh tuuu five feet from the buggy in which the money lay, but it required more than the heroism of even a highwayman to approach it under the determined guard of Paymaster Bessell, who held his ground firmly and kept firing at the would-be assassins, who now, seeing they were foiled, turned and fled in the direction of Ohurcli's Corners. Two Mysterious Characters. In the city of Brooklyn, N. Y., there is an old man who never fails to be in a certain place where he can see the clock on the city hall when it strikes the hour of nooii. For many years he has invari ably been present, and Ins coming is regarded by the people there as a sure indication of tbe near approach of midday, so the old Brooklynite has become the object of much interest and the subject of many a romance. Baltimore, Md., so far as known, lias no eccentric resident whose daily task is to watch the clock at noonday, but within her limits resides an old fellow scarcely less peculiar, and whose idiosyncrasy is not unlike to the crazy Brooklynite. The name of the Baltimoreau is Francis Farthing. He resides in a tenement on Eastern avenue, between Eden and Caroline streets. Probably fifty - two years of age, he is bent in form, furrowed in feature, morose in temper, and of a forbidding appearance generally. He has few friends or associates. How he lives is a mystery to his neighbors, as for six years, during which time he has : lived alone in one place, he has never : done any work, nor has the postman ever been seen to bring him a letter. He ; takes one drink of whisky daily in a | saloon, for which lie always pays in coppers, and his frugal meals lie buys at a restaurant near by, paying for them always in coin of the same denomination. He goes into his room, it has been observed, nightly at eight o'clock, and emerges as promptly on the hour of half-past ten the next morning. He always takes the same path going for his meals, opens the door, a swinging one, with his left and closes it with his right hand in a peculiar way. But all these actions are the least noticeable of his movements, and had it not been for one proceeding more pronounced than all the others these might not have been noticed. Regularly at one o'clock every day he passes out of his low-roofed domicile, walks to tho corner of Eastern avenue and Caroline street, faces about and walks to the corner of Eden street and Eastern avenue. Then he turns up Eden street to Bank, crosses Bank and takes a stand j within a short distance of the pump at j the corner of Spring and Bank streets. I There he stands enumerating aloud each ' person who comes to the pump to drink i until the number has reached seventeen. Then he turns away, and walking by the i same route as before, going to the corner of Caroline street and Eastern avenue, ! he returns to his house. This he has j done for over two years, and perhaps for i a longer period, but that is the time his ! movements were first noticed by his neighbors, who have come now to regard ! him with but little curiosity. One day not long ago while lie. was counting at J the pump a reporter spoke to him. The : old man looked up and resumed his self-1 imposed task of watching and counting, j. but said never a word. So old Farthing ! leads his life of mysterious regularity, 1 and enters himself as the rival of the j ?1Pt?AAlrltm r?1 r\/?lr 1 mail WilU WdlAJLlCD LUC ?J1UUU1J11 Women Farmers In the West. NnmberB of strong, healthy, ami ablebodied women are earning a good liveli- j hood, and laying by a competency for the i future by farm life on the plains of Nc- i braska. Many of these femule farmers | have taken up their farms under the | "land lawn," which are applicable to both men and women, and, notwithstaml-1 ing the grasshopper scourge which has afflicted the State, many a widow with a < dependent family is to-day cultivating: her farm, raising her herds, tending her dairy, and thus providing for her family and securing for horself a compctency ! that cannot be gained in the factories or salesrooms of the East, not even in the ' school-rooms or "behind the foot-lights." I CATS AT A FIRE. The Story Told by flic Servant ( iris?Behavior of the FclincM. The Bervnnt girls who escaped from the Southern Hotel, St. Louis, while il was in flames, tell a singular story aboul their premonition of a fearful disaster, The girls occupied three different rooms on the sixth story, and about elever o'clock, after they had all retired anc most of them were asleep, a cat came, scratched against the doors and moanec pitifully. As a cat had never before been seen in that part of the house manj of the girls were frightened. Lizzie Leaiy, a girl strongly superstitious in her inclinations, woke up the other inmates of the room in which she plept, and told them there was a cat ai the door acting strangely, and she coulc not drive it away. She expressed a be lief that it was the sign of something terrible going to happen, at which the other girls laughed and ridiculed her, When they opened the door the cal Knf vnfnco/1 nnmA in finrl in f moment retreated down the liall as i badly frightened. Abont twelve o'clock all the girls ii that room were awakened by the noist i)f cate at the door. On opening the dooi they discovered four felines crouching ngainst and scratching the wall, anc moaning low, as if in terror. They pro' cured u broom and endeavored to dxiv< the disturbers down the hall toward the stairway leading to the floors below, bnl they rpfused to go in that direction. While making the effort to drive there away the door of the adjoining rrom, where the other girls slept, was opened, whereupon the cats made a frantic rust into the room, flew under the beds, where they crouched together. By tliif time a dozen of ITne girls were awake anc highly excited over the strange action o! the cats. The .-fits refused to move from thei] position under the bed, neither blowi nor persuasive calls having any effect or them. All the cats were recognized ai those belonging in the cellars and on th< lower floors, where they were used ai mousers, and their sudden advent to th< sixth floor, together with their unac countable actions, very naturally arousec the fears of the servants, and the mor( nervous ones could hardly be persuaded to retire to bed again. It was concluded to allow the cats to remain under th< beds, and in a half hour quiet was agaii restored. When the alarm of fire cam( the cuts were still under the bed, crouch ing, and there they staid until the girl; were rescued by the memorable courage of Michael Hester. It is said that all the girls now have i firm belief that the visit of the cats wa< a warning of impending danger, and tha' they were sent there by some mysterioui agency to give a timely premonition The proper theory, doubtless, is tlia occupying that part of the lower build ing where the fire first started, and wher< it spread and groaned and cracked in i smothered way, perhaps for hours befori the general, alarm -was given, the cafe became terror-stricken and sought safety by flight to the upper stories. The; stopped at the servant girls' rooms be cause that was the highest point tha could be reached. Prnr-hininlinn hv the C!znr. The czar jssued the following procla raation to the Bulgarians, on the day oi which the Russian army crossed th< Danube: "My troops have crossed the Danube To-day they enter your territory, when they have already seven times fought fo the amelioration of the Christian inhabi tants of Turkey, Russia still bears th< same love nnd solicitude toward al Christians in Turkey as when she securet the liberation of Servia and Roumania I have confided to my army the missioi of securing the sacred rights of you: nationality, which you have acquired fr centuries of suffering and the blood o martyrs which has soaked your soil Russia's mission is to build up, not t< destroy. She is called by the decrees o Providence to conciliate and pacify al and denominations in those oarti of Bulgaria inhabited by a mixed popu lation. Heucefortli the Russian armi will protect every Christian against al violence. Not vengeance but strict equit; will guide our acts." The proclamation promises also equa protection to Mussulmans but impartia justice upon known participators inatro cities. It urges the abandonment of in testine dissensions and announces tha as fast as the Bussiaus advance Turkisl rule will be replaced by regular organi zations in which the native inhabitant: will be summoned to take part under th< supreme direction of special authoritiei and Bulgarian legions will be formed t< serve as the nucleus of a local armec force destined to maintain order ant security. The proclamation concludes "Follow faithfully the instructions o the Russian authorities. Therein li< your strength ami security. With humil ity I pray the Lord to grant us victory over the enemies of Christianity and t< send down His blessing upon our jus cause." Fanners' Needs. Mind must be the emancipator of th< farmer. Science, intelligence, ruacliin ery?these must liberate the white bond men of the 6oil from their long slavery When I look back and see what has beei done for the farmer within my brie memory, I am full of hope for the future The plow, under the hand of science, ii become n new instrument. The liorsi now hoes the corn, digs the potatoes mows the grass, rakes the nay, reapi the wheat and thrashes and winnows it and every day adds new machinery t< the farmer's stock, to supersede tin clumsy implements which once bourn him to his hard and never-ending toil When a farmer begins to use inacbiner ? 1 r\? ntlmf mor* on/ IIUU BLUUJT piuccooco UI wi;uv,A iiivuj ?*^v to apply his miiul to farming so far as In cau make it take the place of muscle then he illuminates his calling with a ncv light, and lift*; himself into the dignity of a man. If mind once gets the uppei hand it will servo itself and see that th< body is properly cared for. Jntelligen farming is dignified living. For a farm er who reads and thinks, and studies am applies, nature will open the storehouse! of her secrets, and point the way to a lif< full of dignity and beauty, and gratefu and improvable leisure.?J. G. Holland Truths (Jucerly Told. Science is a first-rate piece of furni ture for a man's upper chamber, if li< has common sense on the ground floor., Advice is like a doctor's pills; hov easily he gives them?how reluctanth he takes them, when his turn comes. Some injudicious folks, instead of en couraging the highly-charged mind anc heart, in blowing off verse and bombast would sit on the safety-valve. Truth gets well if she is ran oyer In a locomotive, while error dies of lock jaw if she scratches her finger. ACROSS THE DAJWBE. ' [ How the Russians Ertiicttfd llifc l'lutHRRfc Of i A tlie Rivet*. . j A special dispatch gives the following i.! account of the passage of the Russian p j troops across the Danube at Simnitza: n TT?/1nr' +Viq utiIIatcj nnd f.ftmnrislrR tViArfl fi t j were collected, about six o'clock at night, si L i boats and men. At eleven o'clock they s< j began to ctosb. Both during the cross- a [ | ing and afterward they suffered seriously b , from the fire of two batteries, and from ci r rifle fire. b One gun standing alone fired with ci steadiness and precision and created d , some damage, but, although the men b J suffered, the boats went and came unti f< j! men enough were collected to hold their L own when morning dawned. Still the ri Turks made a feeble resistance, for re\ sistance must surely be feeble which canj 'not prevent 208 boats from passing to y and fro on a broad river. DragomirofFs a t division of the Eighth corps was the first tl | to cross. The Turks fired the last round a ^ a little after one o'clock. On the Turkish side the bank presents low cliffs and steep declivities, and be- tl , hind that more gradual ascents, but al- ti . ways forming perfectly defensive posi- tl r j tions, which were, in fact, only feebly r | contested. On the right of the Russians opposite [ Sistova, all day, three battalions of field a I artillery, firing slowly, helped to crush the 1 j! opposition of the Turks. To the left of v the landing place, concealed among wil- 0 ' lows, were more batteries, and farther b left still, horse artillery. From that h ' position a whole fleet of Turkish crafts r | was visible. One of them was a war n vessel. Its inactivity was unaccount- tJ j able. v I Between one and two o'clock the next r f day the first Ifussian gun was ferried 1< over on a stage supported by two pon- t! r toons, and by that time the column of ti j wounded ceased to pass. Tho character r { of the resistance may be estimated by the s j fnct that so far as known there were only p j 140 wounded, and giving a fair proporj tion for the killed, it may be said that p j the Russians loss was about 200. c Though the Russians crossed at Sim- \ j nitza easily, it has not been so higher up a j the river nenr Turnu-Magureli, where c I their attempt failed. We must therefore s [ suppose that Simnitza will become the n . chief point of passage for other corps h [ than th'ose originally destined to cross n 5 there. As matters stand oue corps only, v _ the Eighth, will have gained a march on y j the Turkish army. p j The Russians wisely drew a thick veil -n around their movement at the last c t liioment, placing sentries on every road, p 5 and suffering no man to pass. They then t< j. passed higher up the river than was ex- c , pected. s """""" a j. The Cossack and His Wliito Scarf. 8 The Cossack cavalrymen are all com- j! 3 paratively young men and have young ' * wives. Whenever they set out on ? 0 a campaign, they buy a white scarf or t 3 handkerchief to take with them. At the 8 7 close of their period of service, they re F J turn to their villages and are met by the ? - whole population. Now a wife who has t been unfaithful to her lord, kneels down " before him in the road, puts her face in ^ the dust, and places her husband's foot . upon her neck. This is a confession of J! - guilt, and at the same time a prayer for ' * i forgiveness. If the husband then covers I 8 e his wife's head with the white scarf, itj ? means that he forgives her and agrees to ^ . j forget her fault. If the white handker- v b ! chief is not produced, the woman returns 0 r I straight to her father's house without ' - j again entering her husband's dwelling, n 3 Mia a uivorce is pruuuuuceu. a. ?iu tw j 1 respondent recounts a tragical story : ^ 1 which a soldier told him on the Danube. I . A returning Cossack was informed by a v i malicious neighbor before he reached i r his home that liis wife had been unfaith- j 7 ful. His comrades perceived that he had f all of a sudden taken to drink and dissi. pation, although he was not a man given tl ) to these vices. When he reached his c f village his wife, as he feared, came for- i 1 ward,knelt down, and put her face in the ! ^ s dust at his feet. The spectators saw him j - look at her as she lay in the dust for a a 3 long time. Two or three times he pat his I 1 hand in his breast for the white hand7 kerchief as if be were going to cover the o repentant woman's head?two or three I times the movement was restrained. ^ II Finally, as if driven by a sudden impulse, -' he drew his sword, and with one stroke d - j severed her head from her body. The pun- j 11 ishment for the crime was two months' j c i; imprisonment, while the malicious neigh-1 -1 bor who had taken the trouble to inform | v 9 j him beforehand of his wife's misconduc ti 31 was sentenced to Siberia for thre | 3 j years. ) : ? | fi 11 Marriage Under DifBcnItios. 1 . I At Belchertown, Mass., an Amherst i j i couple, named respectively Fry and ' 0 , j Boil, were married under rather exciting * circumstances. The girl's father didn't ^ * want her to marry the man, so the latter j } took her to a place where her sister was s j. employed till the wedding could be arranged. The sister, however, was also j., opposed to the match, because the same ^ fellow had previously made love to her, j, and so she locked ihe bride expectant in 0 "m her room. After a night's incarceration she jumped from the window and joined her lover at the hotel. The clerk of j gi j the house drove off furiously for a clergy- j ? man, and the Methodist pastor wus just j beerinninp: the ceremony when the sister | A j appeared at the window to forbid the j ~ a baus. The certificate was all right, however, and the minister concluded to | ^ go on, but in his excitement he read ! . most of the baptismal service, begin-! ' ning: " Whereas, all men are born in : 3 i sin," and repeated the names of the si ^ j couple he last married. The clerk held | the door so that the sister couldn't come p ' I in. On the following Sunday the girl's | j father came to the church door and ; t] s called the minister from his Sunday ' I school class to demand of him why he : ' I married his daughter, at the same time fl ; admitting her legal age. Meanwhile the j _1 groom has lost his place at Amherst, and ' a j left for parts unknown. ! n (iernian Cremation. ! si . ( i 1' It appears to be a fact that the Ger-1 c' ' man society for the introduction of cre* j mation has paid the sum of fifteen thou- f< 1 sand marks to the town of Gotlia to cov- d ! er the necessary expenses of erecting a j ! cremation apparatus. Strict regulations h 1>ivva til?n liflon nnbliRhed bv the police, tl - ordering the examination by competent 3 medical officers of nil bodies submitted j p J to burned, so as to prevent cremation j ? r j in all cases where the causes of death ^ 1 have not been properly ascertained. In ' order to still further guard aguinst j abuse, bodies sent to Gotha from abroad T.\ 1 are to be subjected to the same, or even ^ , i more stringent, rules before being re- i | ceived for the operation. At first, no j J j corpse iB to be burned unless the deceas- j ci - j ed had expressed a wish to that effect, < li I and the relatives have approved. I o 0 CONDITIO* OF OUR COUNTRY. trmrtii'n trieW-?l/niueiHiiblc Outlook f Cliltdrch fir Ullcle ftnm< A humorous writer to a New Yoi aper says j Yesterday I was sitting ly office vainly essaying to stab an o usive fly with a quill pen, when tranger entered the open door, cafeful sleeted a cbair and seated himself wil sigh. He was attired in a suit of rus lack, and in person was Jail, lank ai idaverous. Apparently he had ae< etter days?a good many of them. I llmly removed a slouched hat from h ome of thought, wiped his Corinthii row -with liis coat sleeve, and spoke i jllows : "Are you the proprietor of th mche ?" "Yes, sir; what do you wish?" " Well, I thought I'd dfop in and s> ou. I-want to draw your attcution little matter. Now, would you suspe Liat the United States is bankrupt bsolutely bankrupt?" " Never dreamed of flue! a thing." "That's just it< The people go < tioughtless and dnfetasa, and all t] ime the country is plunging madly do? he steeps of corruption to irfet^wral uin." "You don't say !" "Yes, sir; it's a solemu fact, andi bout time something was done about: ]he Goddess of Liberty is going aroui dtliout a cent in her pocket, and 2,00( 00 of her children are begging f read. Look at our prisons and poc ouses?chuck full every oile of thei unuing over with paupers and criu als, and for every individual with heir walls there are hundreds or-tai rho ought to be there. Look at o ailroads! Rates high and stockr, lo Dcomotives drawing more empty ca han loaded 'nes, shops running 01. hi ime, track hands all discharged, ai ails rusting from disuse. Look at o teamships! Full of rats aud rott< lauks. No business to speak of. Goh a Europe with little or nothing, ooi ared with the cargoes they ue'sj. arry, and coming back with let Wharves tumbling down and jijui-b way by piecemeal. Look at or/; .-j hanics; out of work; tools in the paw hop; children hungry; wives liopeles othing left but suicide or the joc ouse. Look at our merchants. Bui ess at a stand-still; counters cover* rith the dust of day before yesterday ardstick laid away for future referecc roprietor gazing wistfully out of tl rindow in search of the customer \h ometh not. Look at our army. * >ay, no ambition; takes them all summ o whip a band o? crippled squaw ountry too poor to pay them, ai oldiers can't light without cash. Wh< soldier pawns his sword for the nece aries of life, he pawns his courage ^i t. Then look at our navy. Bless yoi here's nothing to look at except a f< Id wooden hulks. We haven't a vess lint could cross Long Island sound in ummer's breeze -without falling lieces. Navy, indeed I Why a bin ion afloat in a washtnb, armed with Jolt's revolver, could sink our wnc avy_inside of fifteen minutes. No wo er Europe laughs at us. jnow wuat he remedy for all this ? Work, unt: Qg, unceasing work. By industry a hrivo. Let us one and all put 0' honlder to the wheel and lift the mir hariofc of commerce out of the bo ole of bankruptcy into the smooth lrg ray of prosperity and start it rollu nee more. By the way, I am out rork at present, and if you could lei le a quarter till I find a ]ob In my haste to get up I unfortunate psefc the desk, and when I reached t] oor with tho quarter the tramp hi anished, and was not. Black Hills Waifs. The following items are compiled fro lie Black Hills newspapers. They a haracteristic ot tne new iana 01 goia : Rumored advent of English capitals 3 make Deadwood alive. " Am Sick, for sale," was the notice < n immigrant wagon recently driven in )eauwood. Deadwood Sunday services are he ver the post-office. Deadwood emigration equals Dea rood immigration. Miners' wages are four dollars p ay. Real bears prowl about the minii amps. The prominent Deadwood hotels a ertise " All languages spoken." Ha1 bey conquered Russian ? Potato Creek pays 300 men well. Rich specimens of copper ore a aund on Box Elder Creek. Thfl Deadwood sheriff wants an own or n span of mules. Bear Gulch is yielding large quantity f gold. Thirteen hundred advertised letters lie Black Hills Pioneer. The capitals lie font gave out and the Pioneer pelling the .Tones with little"" js." The beautiful panorama of nature b iveen Spearfish and Dead wood is marr< y the suspicion that au Indian and rii jrk under the dense foliage. The very prospect pleases and only man ile. The poll tax is due and second-hai ewing machines are already for sale )eadwood. So advances civilization. The Black Hills Times will sell i ccount of 81.25 against one Smith ve heap. Fashion Notes. Holbein work is as fashionable as eve Eobin'8-egg blue is the fashional bade for tissue veils. Colored flowers are used in the coi osition of funeral decorations. The Corisande and the Sidonie a lie leading overskirts this summer. Red peonii _ ns natural uiiTl large fe, are among the fashionable artifici owers. i.Ia 3LLK JJUrHC'S UIU lusuiuuiiuic ugai ad ladies arc crocheting them for sin ler pastime. Many rows of machine stitching a Den 011 some of the handsomest summ Dstumes. Pansies are used in immense quantiti >r funeral -wreaths and memento mo lesigns. A novelty for umbrella and sunslia< andles is to have a small spy glass le end of the handle. The newest styles of parasols ha' agoda tops, and measure from eighth t twenty-four iuclies from the top le ena 01 me nus. Little girls under twelve wear prince jbes of white cashmere trimmed wil llovis lace, and bowa and ladders hite or colored ribbon. The Vouitiiui women of the fonrteeni untuiy wore dresses almost precise ke the scarlct skirts and " pull backs f the present moment. Items of Interest. The most trnthful man ends the day by lying or at night. Why is an angry man like a camel ? 'Cause t.]? he's got his back up. jn An Indian woman is a squaw ; therefore an I Indian baby is a sqnawling. The Established chnrch in England has an , annual revenue of 836,000,000. IV V , r People who keep things in apple-pie order, do J" lltft always belong to the upper crust. j In fifteen years the deposits in English saviags banks have amounted to $585,000,000. ;n It is the man who wears whito linen clotheB le who is obliged to shin up fruit trees for the is ladies. tn "Another Cowhiding Affair" was the sensa18 tional head lino a Western editor put over a brief item calling attention to his lost cattle, jo The farm : should sow his P's, keep his U's warm, hive his B's, remember what he C's, take care of the Vs, teach bis wife not to Ts, pay all he O's, and take his E's. ee "My hotel is perfectly safe," says a Bich- i to inond landlord. Wires run from every window ct sill to the roof of the building opposite, and _ balancing poles can be had upon application at the office. A New York actress has been visiting Blackwell's Island to study misery. If she wants to Ml <?nnt/>mnlfl.ta misery m its highest and broadest lie sense ste should "watch a man pinning a fourth tcen-inch collar on a fifteen-inch shirt band, ile A man had blue glass put in his wife's sitting-rocnn?to match her eyes, he Baid. She fttartied the compliment by having red glass put ia hef husband's library?to match his .ts nose, she lie didn't seem to appreciate it. the compliment. id Old baohelore will read with subdued joy the ),- following epitaph on one of their order, written or by liimself: At threescore winters' end I died, A cheerless being, sole and sad; The nuptial knot I never tied, 11- And wished my father never had. m A female called for a Welsh rabbit at a de restaurant, and denounced the waiter because Or there was no part of a rabbit in the disb w served. " And no later than yesterday," said ' the wearied waiter, "there-was a man in here who growled because there was a hare in the lit butter; can't please 'em all, anyway. The brewers should to Malta go, nr 7 The boobies all to Scilly, " The Quakers to the Friendly Isles, The furriers to Chili. The littlo snarling, caroling babes, That break our nightly rest, lg Should be packed off to Babylon, ,e- ' To Lapland or to Brest n- From Spithead cooks go o'er to Greece, B ; And while the miser waits ir- His passage to the Guinea coast, 3i- Spendthrifts are in the Straits. sd Spinsters should to the Needles go, T i Wine bibbers to Burgundy, Gormands nhould lunch at Sandwich Isles, h? Wags at the Bay of Fundy. ^ Bachelors to the United States, ? Maids to the Isle of Man, er g _ Let gardeners go to Botany Bay, And shoeblacks to Japin. eD Thus immigrate?and misplaced meu !8. Will tlien no longer vex us, th And then all who're not provided for i; Had better go to Texas. ;w . _ ?? iel Thoughts for Saturday Night. l.a Expense of time is the most costly of j all expenses. * 'V L a as n mom gnaws u guiuieun, ou uum envy consume a man. n- To some purpose is that man wise who is is wise at another man's expense, ir- The hen of our neighbor appears to us ve a goose, says the Oriental proverb. ^ The man who can be nothing but seri! ous or nothing but merry is but half a j?" i mnn. 2f. | People seldom improve when they 0f! Lave no other model than themselves to id | c?pyufterOur natures are like oil, compounds ]y with everything, yet still we try to swim lie upon the top. &d A hesitating, tardy, or grim yielding ! to the wishes of another, always grates j upon a loving heart. The w oman who is resolved to be respected can make herself to be so even m j amidst an army of soldiers. re Many men profess to hate another, but , no man owns envy as being an enmity for no cause but goodness or felicity. 3n We do not know of how much a man in t0 capable, if he has the will, and to what point he will rise if he feels free. Id There is this of good in real evils?they deliver us while they last from the petty d- despotism of all that were imaginary. The old saying is expressed with depth er and significance: "On the pinnacle of fortune man does not long stand firm." Who shoots at the mid-day sun, though , he be sure he will never hit his mark, yet J as sure is he that he shall shoot higher re ; than he who aims at a brush. We gain nothing by being with such re i as ourselves. We encourage one another i in mediocrity. I am always longing to pp be with men more excellent than myself. ?Lamb. Bs God has made no one absolute. The rich depend on the poor, as well as the in ' poor on the rich. The world is but a in ! mere magnificent building; all the stones is j are gradually cemented together. There is no one subsists by himself alone.? e- j Fcltham. jg | About the Fly. re | When a Detroit woman answered the is j door-bell the other day she found a I stranger on the step. He had a bundle id ! in his hand, a smile on his face, and he at' said : "Madam, can I sell you some flyid ! paper ?" ry : " Does the paper fly ?" she asked. I "No, ma'am, but it makes the flies fly." " What do I want the flies to fly for ?' she continued. !r* i "Every fly, madam"? he was ex* >10 , plaining, when she called out: " I want you to fly ! I cau get along u- with flies better than with agems !" " But I am not on the fly," he softly re protested. "Our dog is," she grimly replied, and as so he was. He flew around the corner, al the agent flew for the gate, the roll of flv-uaner flew over the curb, ami a news ii, boy climbed a tree-box to be out of the n- muss ft lid shouted : '"She Hew, thou flyesfc, he Hied, and I re beliove the dog got a piece of meat with er that coat tail!" es The Dethroned Sultan. ri Mumd, Turkiey's dethroned sultan, lives, a gloomy man, in a palace on ]e Seraglio Point. His mother is constantly by his side. She tastes his food before it touches his lips, and she allows no one to approach him until she knows ' the object of the visit. His beautiful daughter, Blanche, the Circassian, whom he had reared up to an European educn lion in the family of his private physiafi cian, is with him also. As soon as was called to the throne lie had a part of the iiarem fitted up for her exclusive use iu a style of the most luxurious tli splendor una expense. Her apartment, ly whose embellishment cost nearly 100,000 " francs, was just finished as Murad was forced to abdicate.