The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, February 19, 1879, Image 1
[: ' >.
ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER^
BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1879. NO. 37. VOLUME XXVl^pjjB
I The Old Fire-Place.
Mr. Will 8. Hays haB written the following
words and set them to music. It is dedicated
to Miss Stella McCullough, of Cincinnati :
Oh, well I remember the scenes of my boyhood |
That joyfully cling to my memory still.
A. murmuring stream filled the air with ite I
music
As onward it rushod through the woods to J
the mill,
The house where my grandfather lived. I remember
The day he was laid away under the snow,
And how we all gathered around in the evening i
The old-fashioned fire-place, long years ago. j
CHOBCS.
Gone is the homo and dear ones who lived j
there;
Never again in this world will 1 know
Those who sat smiling and talking around it, '
The old-fashioned fire-place, long years ago.
I've sat upon grandfather's kuee in evening;
I The family were gathered around too warm
hearth;
Tfco orano swung the kettle, the back-log was [
singing?
It l^okdd like the happiest scene on this
earth.
My grandmother quietly sat with her knitting, ]
And othora were rooking in chairs to and fro, 1
Tki hickory spark popped about on the carpet i ]
F?om the old-fashioned fire-place, long years
ago. 1
The oat in the corner aaCylently musing, j (
The old family Bible was opened and road ; i (
Then grandfather prayed, and we kissed one , (
another ,
And whispered "good-night." and went;
happy to bed.
j
The clock on the wall never tired of ticking,
The room became silent, the fire burned low, j \
ITbo loved ones were dreaming, but angels j
were watching j (
That old-fashioned fire-placo.Jonn years ago. | ]
THE UNLUCKY HOUSE. j'
"That is the place, bailie. A very '
unlucky house, sir ! I would not advise 1
yon to buy it." J
" Pooh ! You don't expect an old ; I
traveler like me to be influenced by such ;
a bugbear ?" j1
" That is between you and your own i!
heart, sir; but, to tell the truth, it was 'J
just because you have traveled, and i
seen many afl up and many a down, that jy
I expected you to be inllnenced by an ; 1
uncanny name. It is tho folks that have 11
* no changes,' that have no fore-knowl- j
edge. I'm not a superstitious man my- j'
self, but there are things worth minding j ^
?yes, indeed !" j'
The two men had checked their horses 1
before a large gray stone house, stand- 2
ing on the slope of a hill that would j <
have been dreary in any ayes but those '
of Scotsmen. Rugged ar.d blwak, with \ <
dumps of dark tir hero and tiere, an-l 1 *
patches of dull heather invading the *
brown bare bits of pasture ground. The .s
firs had been thickly planted round the '1
hou6P, and had in the course of three or j
four generations overgrown any attempt : 1
at gardening there had ever been. In i s
fact, nothing now remained of it except r
a weedy, gravelly walk that led to a j1
black lake, which spread itself toward r
tho moor, and ^as gradually lost in thii I
bogs and marches around. 1
" Those hills in the background and t
this marsh ought to furnish good sport, 11
Brodie." ! 1
"Ay, but birds and red deer know
many a thing beyonrt our kenning. The i
deer Iiave lett tne mns, ana rue Dims t
have found cannier placts to build than t
those dark, slimy sedges. Whiles they (
could teach us a lesson, if we were not 11
too Bet in onr own ways to mind them, i
I am speaking to ease my own mind, I {
bailie; I know well yon will do ju?-t as [ I
you liko." j 1
Bailie Allister did not auswer at ouce. r
He took in the whole gray, dreary land- I
cape, with the lichen-stained, melancholy (
house in the midst of it, aud then asked, : 1
abruptly: " What did you call the place, ! !
Brodie' t
" I never called its name at all, sir. ; f
More than a hundred years sjne "Some- | (
body calletl it 'Cross-basket*?avery.ji
proper name, for every generation lu:s
seen its basket and store crossed mor?- !
and mere, till at last basket, store, an i f
money-pouch are all but empty." ! ]
" Who is the owner now ?" 1
" SholtoMacNair. He's but a poor's
lad for a laird?aye dawdling about the j t
bills with a pencil, they say."
"I think I will go aud see him. ?
There is no harm in speering the price . f
of a place." i i
JLUU II uu juiu niii| uuuuwcnn, ?mi- >
lie; and it is none of ray interest to saj, t
Don't.' Still you rue ray own cousin i
four times removed, and I would Ik- v
loath to see you buy bad luck rritb good j
gold."
"I am not set on buying, Brodie. t
To tell th*1 truth, I knpw this lad's mother
twenty-five years ago, and I would t
like to see her son. Poor Grace Lari- \
mer! You'll mind Grace Larimer, : a
Brodie ?" t
" I mind her well, bailie. She has | <
been dead many a year now, and if you r
are bent on Fc?iug her son, a 1 good- 1
day'to you; it is little time I have for I
picking up dropped threads." j s
So the lawyer and his friend parted? < (
the one trotting gently back to the city; t
the other, after tying his liorso to the f
gate of the decaying house, sauntering , (
thoughtfully toward it3 entrance. 1
His summons at the door was answer- Ir.
ed by an old woman, whoso first greet- j i
ing was anything but hospitable: "Ye s
needna ring sae loud, sir; we're neither
deaf nor dead within." ]
" Can I seo Mr. MacNair ?" ; 1
" That depends on wha's spaerlng for \
him. The laird ennna be intruded on by I
every fine that has rnair time thnu gowuor i
sense."
Then a door softly opened, ?nd a ! i
yonng man in a loose, slovenlydress approached.
" Walk in, Kir," ho said, in i
a mauuer tint imlicn'cd at once ?h.>
nervousne s of f!to nelnse and Ih" ]
?courtesy of a natural gentlenui:\ '
There was a bright lire in the room l
into which ho precede 1 lr's visitor, !>uf '
I it did little to relieve the air of ut*er
decay and desolate neglect which was its i
prevailing character. The stone floor J <
was but partially covered with a ragged
earpet, the furniture was broken and t
rr^.th-eaten, the walls -were s'aineel with 1
I damp, and the dropping paper greeu , i
with mil^Cvv. The haiiio foH a Budden 1
chill, aud it was difficult for a moment j I
to ftate his errand. When at length it i?
was done, the young laird sighed and ' 1
answered : f
"Dead? Yts, sir. Sbc died a slow, t
weary death in this very room. Perhaps i
you were her friend ?" j'
" So truly her friend that I would fain !
Kn frifnfl f/i !:/.y r'liilil " nr)(l lie stool 1
I up ami offered Inn hand with a frank, ;1
hearty maimer quite irresistible to the ! i
sensitive young man. wax a youth, j I
indeed, npt to inspire a liking in a heart ! 1
linking him with tenth r memories. He j1
ha^ a bright spiritual face, eot in soft11
dark early hair, Nono hone, and Celtics i
blooJ, and that quick observation and i
sympathetic nature that is always reuly ' i
to take a hint or develop a resource. i
Consequently it \v is easy fnr a person
disposed to ba his friend to find out the j
best way to extend help. True, he hail j
a youth's shame about poverty, but he ;
bail alao youth's hope and youth's confidence
in his owu resources. He exhibited
with a kind of eager modesty
bin numerous pictures and studies of i
Scotch life aad eoenery, and the old man
kuew enongb and had traveled enough
to be aware that they showed signs of
great genius.
But it was not these pretentious works
that attracted him most; it was some
papers lying loosely on the table, covered
with quaint designs of flowers and
stars and dots and crosses. He lifted
these with the curiosity and the eye of
one who thoroughly understands a subject
and is greatiy interested in it.
Sholto blushed deeply, and nervously
trial to draw off his visitor's attention.
But the bailie seemed for a few minutes
quite absorbed in the work and in
his own thoughts. Then he ejaculated:
"Beautiful! Are these your designs,
Mr. MacNair?"
" Tes, sir ; I do a little in that way
sometimes. In fact, I am obliged to,
until I can get my pictures into a proper
market."
" Why, these designs are exquisite.
To whom do you sell them ?"
" John Orr buys all I make."
"No wonder their sewed muslins have
such a sale ! Sholto MacNair, if you
will come into the city and design for
mu ffnr twn vpfirs. von will have
money enough for Rome and the Rhine.
What do yon Bay ?"
It was qnite easy to persuade tho
voung man that his pictures were not
masterpieces, and that he ought to devote
two years to the drudgery of moneymaking,
in order that he might devote
many years after them to travel and
3tudy." But at length the bailie sucseeded,
the wretched home was aban
cloned, and Sholto took his desk in the
designing-room of the great sewed
muslin firm of Bailie Archibald Allister.
It was about six months afterward
that Lawyer Brodie called one evening
an his cousin Allister. There was business
of an important nature in the call,
but after it had been completed their
jonversaticn gradually drifted into a
less personal and less selfish strain.
"How is Sholto MacNair getting
ilong, bailie?"
" He is doing well?saving money and
tvorkiug hard.'"
"Humph! It is the fourth generation
; maybe the curse lifts a little by
;his time. * ' Onto the third and fourth
generation'?that's how it reads, bailie."
" I never rightly understood the mat:er,
Brodie. This Ranald MacNair was
i lawyer and a judge of the court of
session "?
"A sconndrel and a murderer of the
vorst kind, bailie. My grandfather sat
jeside him on tho bench for twenty
rears."
Then there was a pause, but Bailie
blister knew better than to break it.
Ee lot the spell of the flickering fireigkt
ami of the sc-nsitivo expectant sience
tell upon the heart of the old lawyer;
and presently ho Raid, in a low,
houRhtful voice, "I'll tell you, bailie,
s-hnt I know about it, and there is no
me knows more, for we have done the
UacNair business nearly eighty years,
hough I am free to say it is quite
igainst my ordinar to talk about my
ilientfi.
"This Ranald MacNair was a blaokooking
Hiphlandnian, and son of Donild
Dhu MacNair, as fierce and bad a
nau as ever ruled tho MacNair clan. I
mve naught at all to do with the qnar el
betweeu him and his father and elder
brother; he aye boasted that it had not
jeen 'a dry quarrel,' but in tho?e days
be dirk settled every dispute north of
he Grampians, and civilized folk hardy
cared to interfere.
"Anyhow Ranald came southward
vith a dark name, and, strangely
mougli for such a fierce spirit, he enured
a term of law with the house of
Ualdwell & Faulder. Some folks just
lated his dark faco and domineering
vays, but my grandfather took to the
jroud Highlander wonderful. I don't
mow what for, unless maybe that David
tfaoMtrister hated him, and David and
ny grandfather were born foes.
" They had no personal or particular
juarrel/bnt David and Ranald had; for
jolli of them fell in love with bonnie
Vlaggie Faulder?just as mad in love as
wo such proud, set-in-their-own-way
ellowB were like to be. Maggie kind
)f favored David, and Renald swore
f he married her, he might buy ft dirk
vith the wedding ring.
"Then old Faulder sent Maggie
iway to some southward friends, and
David and Ranald went on to the roll of
lis majesty'p attorneys, and both of them
:ettled down to pleading causes and atendiDg
to other people's business.
" But they were always watching one
mother; and when David wfts put up
or some rich county office?clerk of the
oils, I think?Eanald was furions, and
'?-?Kr?fV? fimo onrl <ynlrl frpa\v in nv/?ov
o defeat liim. I suppose ho did it.
Lnyhow, 1 .is opponent, Jjviiob Laing,
von, and David w;js out of place and
jocket. Soon after, .Tames Laing was
ound dead in his office, witli a dirk
hvough his throat.
"Suspicion gathered swiftly and ceruiiily
around David McMaieter. He
vas, as I have said before, a passionate
md proud man. Jt could not be denied
bat he had spoken very bitterly of his
>pponent, and many a threat uttered in
LUfjer was now remembered against
lim.
" His arrest and imprisonment seemed
dmost to deprive him of his senses. Ho
lenied his guill. in the most solemn
erm?, but conld give no account of himielf
during the hour in which the murIer
had been committed, except that he
iad been in liquor in his own room,
rbis apology added little to his defense;
md many, even of his intimate acquaintuices,
believed him to be guilty.
it t*?i?i ? i ? e i.i
" xrouaoiy ueuticiaeui tiio wcii'&uuwu
hatred between the men, the prosecution
elected Ranald McNair to conduct
their case. Nothing so exciting as thiw
trial had agitated every circle of society
*ince the lauding of Prince Charlie.
Houses were divided, friends quarreled,
and immense bets were laid on its issue,
" While it was pending Maggie Faultier
returned, aud Ranald was now
doubly anxious for thr success of his
prosecution. If w.n wonderful what
acumen and industry and eloquence he
brought to bear on it. His Mimming up
*nd final speech electrified every rue.
There was a ro'.emu and awful stir of
ipplause at its close, and everybody
joasidered the verdict settled.
" But the judge was a juf>t and merci:ul
man, and ho did not put the question
to the jury that night; lie thought, you
*ee, that it was only fair to let the men
lave time to look at both sides coolly.
Still, Ranald was sure of his verdict,
md greatly elated at the sensatiou he
:iad mado, especially as Mr. Faulder
stopped to congratulate him; and even
the beautiful Maggie, pale and tearful
is she was, faltered out socio words
which ho took for a compliment.
"He had his dinner in his own chfimbors,
and then in reflections after bis
own heart passed several hours. In
them he fell asleep, for toward midnight
he was aroused by a shako so powerful
that he would have leaped to his feet,
Duly that two brawny hands held him
tight in his chair.
" In a moment his senses were all
alert, and bo saw, bending over him, a
gigantic Highlandman, in whof=e thews
he knew even his strength would be ae
that of a baby.
" 'Yon are a Campbell, I know by
yonr plaid. Now what do you want with
me ?' asked Ranald, fiercely.
" 'Sit still, and don't move nn inch,
while I tell you. I killed James Laing !
1 killed himbeoausc, while ho was shooting
on the braes of Angus last year, he
wronged my sister so deeply that I be
i liooved to kill her too. I watched unti
all his now followers had gone; then
| walked into his room and put ray dir'
! through his throat. I had wn n^s t
| right, and I righted them; but yon ma:
, you frpoke against to-day knows nothin,
of the matter. I don't want to murde
j him too. Tell the police that the ma
who killed James Lamg is Alexande
[ Campbell. They can look for him i:
i Bute; maybe they will find him, am
1 maybe they will not.'
"Without another word he was gone
and Ranald was too shocked to detai
1 him, even if he had the power. How
| ever, ho made no spontaneous effort
! and when reflection came ho determinei
! not to do it. He could not bear to giv
up his triumph ; he knew the temper o
j popular feeling, and was sure tha,
David's innocence assured, David woul<
i become the popular idol. He had labor
j ed for his ruin?how could he now giv
I up bis object ? And then he thought o
j Maggie, and that thought decided him
No, nothing should now induce him t
! retrace his steps.
| "The next morning in court he ha<
; another chance to clear his soul. Th
I prisoner had roceived from some persoi
I in the press a paper assuring Mm tna
! Rnnald had been notified of his inno
I cence, anil would proclaim it in th<
court. David begged the officer to pas
this paper over to Ranald, and he eager
ly scanned his face while he read it. Th>
| two enemies looked a moment into end
i other's eyes, and then Ranald, with i
j scornful smile, tore the paper into frag
I ments.
"So David wafi sentenced that day
I and in due time hung with all the cir
j cumstances of barbarity and indignity
j then common to the last act of the law
! If Ranald felt himself a murderer, h<
| did not show it, and no visible judg
I ment followed his crime. He ros<
! rapidly in his profession, married Mag
j gie Faulder, built yon house at Cross
basket, and was finally made one of th<
| lords of session.
" But long before this somo peopli
! had begun to notice that he was i
i haunted mau. I say ' some people,
i because there are men and women tha
| are just lumps of clay, and never eei
any thiug beyond their own meat anc
j money matters."
" A haunted man, Brodie! What d(
; you mean ?"
" Just what I say, Allister. The mai
j he had hung called him from bed anc
j and board and bench, and he was com
pelled to go. His face turned gray a*
ashes with terror and mortal agony; anc
j the servants told strange tales, of crief
and voices and of fierce struggles,
which left their master more dead thar
j alive. Tbe doctors gave these attacks
I some grand Latin name; but the mar
I was far beyoud their help.
| " One night he was awfully wretchec
' on/l focflnco nml insiRfpd r>n linvinc nnH
| the company of bis eldest grandson, e
: bright lad of three years old. At mid'
night there -was the old struggle andthf
; old cries, and the child ran sobbing dowr
the great stairs, half crazy with a terroi
: that he never could explain; for it was
not likely he could describe in the language
of this world things that belcrged
j to another one."
" And Ranald MacNair ?"
" Was found dead this time, and his
j room is locked to this day. The little
i lad present at that last awful struggle
I was Sholto's father. He carried the
memory of that hour into every hour oi
his life, and I think tbat ho cever eithei
hoped or tried to avert the poverty and
j sorrow he believed to be the just judg|
ment of his house. He was a pious mau,
but held the wori l's goods with a loose
j grip. Sholto, you say, is prudent anc
j world-like ?"
" I have nothing against him but hif
[ constant hankering after work that wil]
never pay him. Nobody cares for historical
paintings and picture castles,
Brodie."
" No, no; and why should they ? Tel
: him to paint portraits; every one think!
j his own face makes the best picture."
But in a few months Bailie Allistei
j had a still graver cause of disapproba
; tion. Among the girls in his factory
was one of extreme beauty, known gen
, orally by her companions as " Ladi
Jennie." Popular nomenclature ii
1 ?,i
rureij wruuy, auu jcumoo mawij
| ty deserved the title given her. SholUn
I admiration was so marked that his ok
friend could liardly avoid interfering ii
the matter. So ho made the inquiriei
he thought jjroper, and then askee
Sholto to come and dine with him.
Siiolto was quite prepared for th<
discussion, and when Bailie Allistei
\ proposed that he should now go t(
Home and pursue his studies, the proposition
had been foreseen and consider
ed. He answered, quietly, that he hat
been preparing for such a step some
that he had finished designs sufficien
for the house's need until his plac<
could be properly filled, and that h<
j was now only waiting for his marriage
which would bo performed the follow
| ing week.
" You know who you are going tc
j marry, SholtovI suppose?"
"Yer, I know. I was afraid sh<
would not have mo; but she is an angel,
and has forgiven all."
" She has heard, then, of the wronj
i your grandfather did her house ?"
"She has heard that Ranald MacNnii
deliberately kept, back factr. whicl
| would have t-aved her great-uncle fron
a shameful and early death; but sh<
knows that Sholto MacNair had neithe:
part nor lot in that sin, and that hi
would die himself rather than hurt i
hair of her head."
| "She is but a working girl, Sholto.'
"I am not fit to touch her hand
bailie, she is that nobly born; and ]
hope, for my mother's sake, you wil
bless our bridal."
So Sholto and his wife went to Rome
and the old bouse of Crossbasket grev
every year mora dreary and melancholy
looking. Nobody asked to rent it, no
body asked to buy it, and tho mars)
grew so upon 1 be garden every year tha
people begin to prophesy the placi
would eveutually b>> swallowed up bi
the bogs and water.
For sf>n>e time little was heard o
Sholto. The bailie thought it a goot
Bign. "The lad," he Haul, "is happ;
with Iiis wife, and busy with his brush.'
Events justified this opinion, for Si
Thomas McGilvery, lord provost o
Edinburgh, having gone to Italy in th<
j seventh year of Sholto's absence
j brought back with him a wonderfu
j painting of tho broken-hearted Kinj
James entering Edinburgh after th<
I woful field of Flodden; and Sbolti
^ZaeNair was tho artist.
Far ami wide tho fame of the worl
spread, and Bailie Allister and Lawye
Brodie went purposely to Edinburgh h
i pee it. "A wonderful picture," the;
both allowed, but tiio lawyer grumblei
a little at the subject. "It was just a
easy," he said, "to choose a triumph a
a disaster. But. the MaeNnirs are kin t
ill luck, I think."
Perhaps the lawyer never paid an;
| thing that ha 1 so speedy a refutation
' for the verv next day theyhailie nnu a
j offer -which cnuaed him to write t
Sholto and urge his immediate return t
Scotland. In a few weeks after thin h
i was riding once more out to CroBsbas
i ket; but this time Shclto and "Lad
i Jennie " and their two daughters wer
with him. They wandered through th
old honso, which even in the bright sm:
! shine had an eerie, mournful, uninhal
iteble look, and Sholto grew strangel
) silent, and Jennie shuddered and gathei
> ed her ohildren cl^se to her Bide.
/ - B
il It was the last time they were ever to
I see the old walls, for Sholto bad sold
k house and lands to the city for ?80,000,
o and the house was to bo raxed, and the uf
a marsh drained, and the hills and deso- 25
g late fields laid out in pleasure-grounds
r for the burghers of the great city,
a ? ? be
* A Sewing: Girl'd Romance.
3 A sewing girl in this city, writes a
Springfield (Mass.) correspondent, has he
) had a romantic experience that is worth da
q the telling. Several months ago a man fa
.. at Dubuque, la., advertised in an eastern
Massachusetts paper for a wifa. kr
ij Among the swarm of anewers which he th
e received were two from two girls in this <Jc
,f city, who replied just for tha fun of the
thing. One of them represented herj
self as a young widow, and her lively wi
.. account of herself and her circumstancos m<
e was very largely fictitious, especially 12
f that which told (very incidentally, as if Bh
it was of no consequence) of the snug te<
0 sum of money left her by the dear de- a 1
parted. She never expected to hear of ?a
3 the matter again, but that was fhe one ue
e letter out of all tho advertiser received ce
! which struck his fancy. He wrote to av
t tho supposed " widow" (who, in fact gi'
i. had never been married, and who was th
a then earning her living with her needle); on
H photographs were exchanged; the letters bo
. grew more and more affectionate, until wl
e the young woman, realizing that the art
j affair was no longer a joke, wrote to her m<
1 new-found admirer and told him frank- wf
. ly of her humble circumstances. fo]
* Of course he admired her all the
more, and at last came from Dubuque
' to this city to claim her for his bride, th
" Instead of the sleek and intelligent- lei
looking and manly individual whom she at<
' had expected from his letter and his lei
photograph, what was her vexation to th
.* see a person of decidedly seedy appear da
_ ance, wearing an old slouch hat. and br
] appearing altogether unattractive. Well, foi
' she refused him, and he, chiding her ho
bitterly for so doing after the pains he th
3 had taken to win her, returned alone to tai
x Iowa. I suppose lie hadn't left the th<
. house before she was sorry?such is tho iir
^ flexible character of female affection? ho
5 and it is certainly true that she was very ye
j sorry, indeed, before he had put a thou m<
sand miles between them. Ho wrote no Q<
j more, but the distressed young wo- ab
man wrote, or got friends to write, of
j to the pastor of the church he at- re;
I attended and to various persons in Du on
buque, to find out what sort of a man So
j this was?something she ought to have cai
I thought of in the first place. The re- fo*
j plies were uniformly complimentary, th<
and every one only increased her regret foi
' that Bhe, a poor sewing girl, had re va'
j fused a "good match."
Never a word came from him, and at
last she swallowed her pride, reopened
[ tho correspondence herself, and told j>T
r him how she had misjudged him and jrt!
t how sorry she wasthat she had. Prompt up
ly camo a manly reply, from which she ^
discovered that when he visited her here, sjj,
L he had intentionally made himself as hn
. unattractive as possible, from a romantic cji
notion that she oucht to take him for u,,
what he was and not for what he wore. mj
I Of course they were married, and the
poor sewing girl has for her husband
one of the leading citizens of Dnbuque, jjji
, and for her home one of the finest man
j sions in Dubuque. This true story tjc
) ought to have a moral of the negative sn
j sort?namely, that young girls are not to ftu
f infer from it that it iB safo for them to esj
. answer matrimonial advertisements, for ftn
j where one case of this sort has, like this, ne
a happy issue, there are ten which lead 8t(
to unhappiness or something a great deal ^
j worse.
' { A Priest's Death at a Wedding, jjj
i j In St. Francis Xavior's Roman Catho- bo
[ | lie church in New York a large company ng
J had gathered to see united in marriage wi
j Charles Brennan, a son of Owen W.
i Brennan, and nephew of the late ex- co
I | Sheriff Matthew T. BrennaD, with Miss th;
j Meta Peetsch, daughter of Henry T1
Peetech, a wealthy tobacconist, living in an
r East Eighteenth street. The Rev. dii
. Father Alphonstis Pelletier and tho of
r Rev. Father David Merrick, the pastor ba
. of St. Francis Xavier's, were standing hk
r in front of tho altar when Mr. Brennan eel
j and Miss Peetsch and their two brides- we
. maids and two groomsmen walked up in;
4-1.? oi'oIa TIiott trarn crY&oic*(\ TT'afV)Pr
J | Pelletier, who began a brief dieconrso rei
i j on the solemnity of the marriage sacra- ' m(
* ! ment. Without warning and as ho wis str
1 i saying ; "You must give up father and | thi
! mother," he tottered forward and fell ou
5 [ between the bride and the groom, an
r I uttered one groan, and was still. tie
) Tho congregation aroEe by a common of
. impulse when Pastor Merrick and an
- assistant clergyman hurried to raise tho
1 fallen priest . They ascertained at once
, that ho could not 6tand, and they car- j do
t lied him in their arms into tho bap-1 "1
; tistry. He remained unconscious, j th
; Father Merrick hastened ont and asked I su
, tho congregation to bo seated. Then ho ' ra(
[ said that Father Pelletier was subject j hy
j to palpitation of tho heart; but he did I ea:
) i not know that Father Pelletier was dy- I toi
iog at that moment. Then Father Mor- I toi
j j rick took up tho marriage ceremony ] by
where it had been broken off, and fin- "i
ished it. As ho pronounced the bene- ap
; diction, t..o assistant priest, who had ye
remained in tho baptistry, came from a I
i: side-uoor, and, holding up a hand, au- ed
i nounced that Father Pelletier had just th
i breathed his last, ki]
3 ? In
r O
^ Poor But Respeetaljlc. ^
> ! This is tbe way it is played: A man | th
past the primo of life, poorly dressed
? and haying a mournful quiver in his pe
voice, takes two old oyster cans, partly mi
[ fills them with sand, does them up in wr
1 neat shape, and selecting a house he im
calls the ladv to the door and says : tir
" Madam, I am old and poor, but I'm it
I not a thief. I found theso oyster cans wo
. on the street, and won't you bo good vti
. enough to keep 'em till the owner It
! j calls ?" dii
t i "Why, the owner may never call," j in
Q replies tho lady. mi
jf " That's so; but I'm not able to buy Al
milk and crackors even if I had oysters; j iu
f j you'd better keep 'em awhile anyhow, on
] I If no one comes the cans are yours." i gu
r j Sometimes the old man makes a quar- j 1
' | fer, and sometimes only a bite to eat. Qi
c The owner does not arrive, and the | de
f j family prepares for fried oysters for I wl
3 [ supper. When tho paper is torn off j is
t | some folks laugh?and some don't. | /D<
i J Some any they'll hunt over every rod of |
r I ground in tho United Spates but that j
3 | they'll find tho old man and make him j
3 i cat t he last grain of sand aud the can to 1 ?JC
boot.?Detroit Free Press. j i)C
I us
J "Pith ami Point." j
y Success is much like starvation, It's \
1 nothing when you are used to it. | jjj
8 The hungry crowd always goes for a ; v?
s frej lunch before the napkin rings. j ca
0 : fiinl.q nih minnnflPfl <o Lave, in com- ! v*
mon with all living creatures, certain it
7 I reasoning faculties, and yet they are er
'? ' the moBt flighty. , ' 151
" | TasselR aro coining in style again.?
; Fashion Paper. Yes, wo noticcd thorn ?
Q on the corn, last autumn. ?
i_ What a grand idea it is to congratu- U?
y late ourselves on haviug escaped dau- Rr
e gers -we are really too pusillanimous to &
0 risk encountering. cjj
i- Ho rose to a point of order, but the M
) presiding oflicor sat down on him, ero di
y he had a chance to bloom. No flowers g(
r- of rhetorio were gathered at that meet- of
ing.?Now York News. ot
TIMELY TOPICS.
The total amount of silver coin 3
;cd in the world is estimated at
i0,000,000.
Peter Fisher, wjo carries the 1
itween Rome and Lowell, N, Y.,
ice a female rider in a circns.
The New York Herald, under
nd-lirm "Always With You," c
lily the names and addresses of f
tnilies in the city who are known t<
>rthy of charity, and also prints
lowledgments of the snms received
em, which vary from five cents to
illars.
A table of wages and the coBt of livi
th the price of staple articles of c<
erce, going back as far as the 3
00, has been published lately,
ows that the wages during the t
enth century were about fiftv c<
tveek. In tlie next century they
need some fifteen cents, and con
id to advance ulowly until, in the
ntury, they had reached $1.87. '
erago for farm labor at presen
pen at 83.80 per week. Wheat in
irteenth century averaged sevei
0 cents, or eight and a half days
>r, a bushel. Now wheat is woi
lolesale, about 81.46 a bushel, or
d a half days' labor. In six centu
jat has nearly trebled in price,
iges have increased more than se\
Id.
The commune of Samnaune, on<
e most remarkable, as it is one of
ist known, in all Switzerland, is 6
3d in a valley, 0,000 feet above
rel of tJje sea, and almost cut off ii
e world. The inhabitants fetch tl
ily supply of provisions from Mart
uck, on the other side of the Inn,
r a greater part of the distance, se
nrs in all, they have to carry ev<
* ~ U?-? />U?~i nM fU A n^ann mn
ILJg ULI tliUil UttUiXO Uiuc o 100^ ;uu
ji paths. They get their letter,', fi
e Austrian village of Banders, wi
rolves a walk fur the postnp.n of
urs, four thither and six back. F
ars ago the members of the comm
)t together, and, being of opinion t
?rman was on the whole a more de
le language for the ordinary purpc
life than their mother tongue, t!
solved thenceforth to speak Gen
ly, and to teach it to their childi
thoroughly has this purpose b
rried out that, with the exception <
v old people, the Bomanisch spe?
sir native tongue, has been complel
gotten by the inhabitants of
Hey.
Mglit 011 r Colorado Train.
F. H. McDowell writes to the Bos
ansrript his experiences of raib
ivel in Colorado. He says: Night d
on us apace, and with it came a di
I snowstorm. A heavier engine '
ortly added, onr train lightened of
;t three cars, and we started on
mb up throngh the Veta pass and o
a Bocky mountains. For twenty-i
lea our grade averaged nearly 1
ndred feet per mile, with curves
enty, twenty-five, and thirty degi
rown in for variety; but oar little
ie hugged the rails closely, and a
i more than an hour brought us to
mmit, 9,339 feet above the sea lc
d over 1,000 ieet higher than the hi
b point on the Union Pacific railrc
d formerly the highest on this co
nt. The air was light and frosty as
>ppedout upon the platform and ami
e flakes of falling snow, but it wai
ich purer than the malarial atmospb
at we had been obliged to breathe o
few days before oa the Atlantic i
ard. that we filled our lungs agdn i
ain with this true elixir of life, t
is exhilarating almost to intoxicati
Through the rapidly-falling snow
uld just distinguish the twin pet
at are 13,020 and 12,720 feet in altitu
ley looked like two ghostly snowrn
d seemed to smile complacently at
jcomfitnre over an unexpected fr
the wind as it pelted us with h
sketfuls of snow. Rushing down
mntain side to the wost, with
lioes reverberating through the can
i caught over and anon glimpses of
? trees and rocks, that appeared tc
joying a race as to who should 1
\ch the snowmen way back among
juntaiu summits. When the 1(
etch of tableland on the west sidi
3 Rockies was reached, we drop
tselves back in our reclining ch
d dozed away until a long, ehrill w
' awoko us as we drew up at the stal
Alamosa.
Hydrophobia In Winlcr.
With most people the idea of i
gs is intimatfly associated with
leatud term." In fact, canines v
rabies are nlmost looked upon i
mmcr institution. Eminent med
;n who have paid attention to case
drophobia have declared that the i
se has its origin in the action of
lee heat in the canine s pnysicni i
11. The theory is, however, now :
t'io fact that hydrophobia is nc
season complaint," but is liable
pear iu canines nt any timo of
ar.
Several mad dogs have recently tr
up iu New York State where
ermometer was at zero, and one
lied at Blue Bell only a few days s
December last also a mnd dog
rerbrook viciously attacked a ho
lich a few days I-iter showed sign
e rabies and ! a 1 to bo destroyed.
" My idea is that hydrophobia is
culiarly a summer disease, but tin
xy bo looked for as much in cold at
irm weather." said a prominent vc
iry surgeon. "In the winter," he c
med, " whon everything is frozen
is very difficult for dogs to proc
iter, aud intense thirst is almost
riably the forerunner of hydrophol
is also held to some extent that
=e:ise may iu some cases have its ori
a wjuit of food, or a<?ain from the i
il being k(">t in too close conflnemi
togeiker, v jilo wo look for rabid d
the summer there is uo reason
ners of canines should not be on tl
,ard equally in the winter."
Cases of hydrophobia are frequenl
lebeo when the thermometer is th
grees below zero, but in the sumu
ten it is up in the nineties, a mad
very rarely seen.?Philadclp
:cord.
Trouble About, n Name.
The Silver Star, a Nevada paper, t
w tbe pe.vple of a district in Hi
ildt county are troubled over a na
follows : In Mouut Rose miu
strict., Paradiso mountains, a vill
c-nrmur infn Aviofct
in icuuuuj p[uuug uiw
ncli can boast of having moro na
an any place of its size in the 1
180. Tho business men of tho pi
11 it "Spring City" and " Spn
lie;" tho postoffice department nai
" Siskron;" the county commissi
s, following the example of
incrs, named the precinct and to
lip " Mount Rose," and people gei
lycnll it "Rung Eye." We aro
rmed that the majority of the r
snte of tho place are in favor of
ime of " Spring City," and, in acc<
ice with their desires, Wells, Fn
Co. have designated the place
wing City in their list of offi
ornt Rose, the name of the mil
strict and township, would be a i
)o3 name for the town, but hundi
people prefer "BuagEye"to
her name yet given the place.
The Sorccries of Science.
A BONO BY AN OLD SCHOOLMASTER.
HOW
?3 Day by day, in this wonderful ago,
' Id announced Borne wonderful invention
Fit to puzzle the brains of a sage
nail And far past my poor comprehousion.
was You can talk, by the telephone wire,
SeaB o'er with wonderful celerity;
To the phonograph they that aspire
the May their voices transmit to posterity.
)00r *n y?uth 'twaa 0Dce bought a vain dream
j k0 That the streets could bo lighted with gas;
ac_ To oxpect locomotion from steam
for Was accounted the hope of an ass.
ten A guffaw, as of yesterday, rings
In miuo ears from the days long ago
When, at what seemed ridiculous things,
ing, Our grandfathers laughed, Ho ! ho ! ho!
And I still have some fear in my miad
rear
jj. That this science will end in confusion;
Ijjj. That its marvels at last wo shall find
3nts To have been but Old Harry's illusion.
a(j. Wo shall suddenly wako up some day,
tin- In astonishment around us to stare,
last To find visions have vanished away,
The And the good old times still as they were,
t is
the days on which memory dwells,
jl-y. When the hedgerows were sweet with musk>
]a. roses !
rth, What if cesspools wero sunk close to wolls,
two And our pigsties right under our noses ?
ries From your sewers what good have you got,
and Beyond fevor germs and bacteria ?
ren- Till they mado us drain, typhoid was not.
And we'd no such disease as diphtheria.
} 0j. Now, if night'a to be turned into day,
the The electric light will Ire rise,
itu- I've no doubt, with its dazzling display,
the To some novel disease of the eyes,
rom 'Gainst the new light I stand by the old,
leir Though their sheon by comparison suffers I
ins- Oh, for your good old days, dip and mold,
and With your tinder-box, matches and snuffers!
von - I'unch
THE TICKET AGENT.
rom
tich
iftv Western train's gone, madam," paid
* Farmer Brown, coming into the waiting
. ^ room of the little deDot.
gj" "The train I was to take?" I said,
* gasping.
k " Yes, madam ; too bad, but can't bo
Qa^ helped. Harness will give out some,eD
times,you know," said he sympathizingeon
"When is the next Westt/n train
?h due?"
' " Not till six o'clock ; you've got five
'tkQ hours to wait. Be dreadful tiresome.
Bnt there's a nice family that lives in
t'other part of the house; s'pose I tote
you in there? I know Mrs. Holly'll
. give you a bite of suthin' to eat, and
she'll be proud to let you rest on her
spare bed. Fine woman, Mrs. Holly is
?1 know -her. Won't you go in and see
las her?" V
fv, " No, (hank you, sir ; I dare say that
I'll be quite comfortable here."
ver " ^aa* ^es as ^ou P^eafle* now *
one mn8t k? goin'. Hope you'll git to your
two iourney'8 end S?fe- Good-bye."
, And Farmer Brown left the room, got
into his wngon and soon "disappeared
' ~ down the dusty road.
j./ I had been visiting a friend who lived
the 'n a conn^;r7 settlement, some five or
?ej six miles from tlie solitary building dig^
nifled by the name of depot, and when
the time came for mo to return homo,
n?j' she placed me in care of a neighboring
we farmer who was going to a distant vilon
lage and would pass the station.
3 B0 During onr ride we met with an acciLOre
dent. Part of the harness gave way, and
we wero detained such a length of time
jea. that, as the reader knows, I was too late
an(j for the train.
jjaj. After Farmer Brown left me I amused
on< myself by rending a newspaper which
some one had left lying on the seat.
Finishing this, I studied the design of
[t]e>' the wall-paper, counted the panes of
en' glass in the little window, and wondered
0llf at the tidiness of the whole apartment,
ejtk Then a thought struck me. " Oht
uge probably the place is kept clean by Mrs.
the Holly, over whose virtues Farmer Brown
the waa so enthusiastic. Wonder if this
l0U same worthy female would give me a
Ay! glass of water?"
) he And I tapped on the door communijrst
catiDg with the other apartments,
the "Come in," said a cheery voice, and
;vel entering, I found mysolf in one of the
j 0f prettiest, cosiest rooms I had ever seen.
The most delicious tint of buff was on
airs j the walls ; cool matting covered the
his- ! floor, muslin curtains, festooned with j
tion ivy, hung at the windows, pictures and j
flowers and all the dainty belongings j
that make a room look so homely and i
pleasant.
nad And, most charming of all, there lay
the in a white-draped cradle a rosy baby,
pith fast asleep, with rings of golden hair fallis
a ing over h 8 white brow, and a great red
ical velvet rose clasped in his dimpled hand. |
s of Over him bent a woman of twenty-two
3iii- or three years?a little mile of a
in- woman, witli a bright, dark face, vividly
iys- colored big black eyes, and wondrous
met dark hair wound in heavy braids about
)t a her stately head.
i to She arose, with a smile, when I entile
tered.
" Excuse me; but may I troublo you
irn- for a glass of water ?" I paid,
the "No trouble at all. Pray be seated,
was Excueo me;" and she left the room,
tgo. Presently she returned, bearing a
; at salver, covered with a snow-white uaprse,
kin, containing a glass of water, a glass
s of I of creamy milk, a saucer of luscious
atrawbrrries and a plate of sponge-cake,
not | light as a yellow foam.
it it " Pardon me," ftho said, smiling, " if
3 in I take too great liberty; but, you see,
tor- Farmer Brown told me of your being
on- obliged to wait so long, and I thought
up, you might be hungry."
ure " Why, how very kind you are I" I
in- exclaimed, in pleased surprise,
bia. "Not at all; it is a pleasure to me.
the If you are hot and dusty, perhaps you'd
gin like to bathe your faco. If so, just step
mi- in here."
snt. And she lod the way into a little white i
ogs bedroom?the very heart of cleanliness
vhy and purity.
leir In a little while I was a very different
being from the cross, dusty, hungry j
? in mortal who had sat in the hot waiting!
irty room. I found Mrs. Holly a perfect :
ler, ittle gem of a woman, and, after the [
dog manner of our box, we soon became as
hia ! well acquainted as if wo had known each
i other for years. And while I was lying
I languidly upon the comfortable sofa,and
i she seated in her low chair stitching
ells j away at her baby's dress, sho told me
nm- J the one romance of her lifo.
mo I "I have lived in this little depot all j
ling ! my days," she began. " fatlier -was
iig? | agent here; and ho served the company
mce | ho long and so well that when he died
mes | tbey kindly allowed me to remain in his
mi- : place with the samo wages, too I .For,
laeo i you see, I was seventeen, and my father j
ing-: had long before taught me telegraphing j
ned i and all tho other work. Abont a year I
ion- after rav father's death I becamo ac- i i
tho i qnainted with .Taek?Jack Holly, my
wn- j husband," and Mrs. Holly looked up ;
aer- and smiled.
in- i ''Jack was one of the best engineers on
e.ui- ! the road (and is now, ton), and overythe
| body considers him an honest, likely
^rd- j young follow. He thought tho world of
irgo me, and we became engaged. But you
i as know how girls are I The weakest of
ces. them make u strong man tremble."
ling " A weak girl held all his heart strings
rery in her email, white hand ?" I said.
reds "Yes; audi dare say I often pulled
any .Jack's heart strings rather hard; but he
mut gentle and patient when I flirted
<H B
?. ? HLii m
with the country lads, and when I wi
wild and wayward he did not remoi
strate. But one day there came alon
a city chap who engaged board for tl
summer at a farmhouse in the neighbo
hood.
"This Clarence Devarges, as he wi
oalled, was handsome, well dressed, as
had that polished, indescribable air thi
is so fascinating to most silly girl
Jack was kind and well mannered, bi
he didn't have a bit of style abont bin
but' style' was what I doted on in thoi
days. So I snubbed Jack, and smile
on Mr. Devarges when he offered h
attentions. I flirted most dreadful]
with him till even generous Jack wi
displeased.
"One morning, looking somewhi
grave and sad, he came into the tick*
office. The passengers had gone, ar
the train was moving out. Jack's trai
had stopped to take freicht.
" 'Well, bow long is this thing goir
to last ?' said Jack.
" ' What thing ?' I snapped out.
" * Why, this affair with Devarges;
see it is going beyond a mere flirtation
''' Pray, what of it ?'
" ' Only that I do not wish my futui
wife's name joined in with that of a'Jack
paused here, and added earnestl;
' Well, I warn you against this fellot
Who knows what he is ?'
" 'Mr. Devargesis a perfect gentl
man, and that is more than one can 8?
of some others,' I said, hotly. 'An
Mr. Holly, in regard to your futu
wife, I believe I do not aspire to th
honor, and?here is jrour ring.' I dre
off the golden band, and handed it i
him,
" ' Nell, do you mean this ?' inquir<
Jack, with white lips.
"'Yes, I do. I'm tired of your car]
ing and criticising,' I said, pettishly.
" ' So be it, then. Good-bye,' sai
Jack, and without another word he le
the room.
"To tell the truth, I hadn't meai
half I said, and every minute expect*
that Jack would kiss me, and we'd mal
a p. A mist oame over my eyes as
watched him fast disappearing agaii
and I would have indulged in a good cr
but just then ' the special' came uj
pnffing, and the president of the roa
came in. He was a kind old gentlemai
whom I had known since I was a w<
girl.
"'Good day, Miss Nellie. Ever;
thing prosperous, I hope. Will you d
a favor for me ?'
' Certainly, sir, if I can.'
Ht TT7a11 ana wo moyfl nnr>
f T CI If JUU DODj nuvu nv wm
ing down, 1 met a gentleman that owe
me Borne money; he paid me 8900, an
now I do not know what to do with i
as we are going into the woods to sc
abont layirg ont a new railroad. W
shall be gone two days. Don't want 1
take the money with me; will you tak
charge of it while I am gone ?'
" ' If you will trust me.'
" 'Bless my soul! yes, of course; her
is the money. Must huiry away. Goo
morning.'
"Scarcelyhad portly Mr. Sayregor
away before Mr. Devarges came saui
tering in.
"' Got quite a little sum there, haven
you, Miss Nellie?" eyeing the bills i
my hand.
"'Yea,' I replied, laughing; 'M:
Sayre has made me his banker. Looi
Nino hundred dollars 1 How rich
would be if it were mine 1'
" 'You deserve to have much mor<
and doubtless that pretty face '11 wi
it.'
"Somehow this bold compliment faile
to please me, and it was with coldnes
that I said:
" 'Take a chair, Mr. Devarge.'
" ' No, thank you, Miss Nellie. Iha^
an appointment. But will you alio
me to call on you this evening ?'
" 'Well, I scarcely think I will be !
home. You know that mother and si:
tor Lulu are away, and a little whi
ago I got word from grandmother saj
iug perhaps I had better come and sto
1111 Lil?Ub W Mil JLlCI,
" It was true that I bad received sue
word from grandma, but I had n<
thought of accepting it. I hoped tbi
Jack would come and make np, and <
course, I didn't care to have Mr. Dcvarg<
call on me at the same time.
" ' What will you do with that mone;
Miss Nell ?' carelessly inquired Mr. Di
varges.
" ' Oh, I shall put it right hero in th
drawer. No one knows about it, and
will be perfectly secure.'
" ' Dare say; good morning,' and wit
a courtly bow, my admirer left.
" All duriug the day I busied myse
About my numerous duties, and whe
night came I put on tho dress Jack like
best, and anxiously waited his comin;
" Seven o'clock ; eight o'clock ; nit
o'clock ! The last train had come au
gono, and my duties for tho day wer
over. I put out the light in the tick<
office and wont into the sitting-roon
and watched and waited. Ten o'clock
Half-past ten ! No use waiting an
longer?he wouldn't come.
" I went to the door, opened it an
looked out. There seemed evorythin
wiered about the whole landscape. Eve
the shadows seemed alive. Tlie sk
was beginning to be overcast, and tb
moon peeped out of an inky black clout
The frogs down the river were croakin
dismally; the wiud seemed to wbispc
and moan.
"I shivered out witha nameless dreac
and closed tbo door ; went to bod au
cried myself to sleep.
"I had slept au hour, perhaps, an
then awoke with a sudden start, feeliD
a great difficulty in breathing. A pai
of the quilt lay across my mouth,
thought, but ou roachius? my hand t
remove it, I found that it was a hand
korcbiof saturated with?what?" Chk
roform!
" A thrill of terror passed over m(
Who had dono this ? Was there som
one in tbo houso ?"
n T i.nlf n?ncn on,! ntarmf, mrv A
was dark except a little ray of light fal
ing through the partly-closed doors.
"I silently arose, and just then almoi
screamed in fear when a sudden soun
smote upon my ear. It was only th
clock striking the hour of midnight,
placed my hand upon my heart to sooth
its fierce throbs.
" Stepping along, carefully avoiding a
obstacles, I reached tho door, opene
it, aud glance.i into the sitting-roon:
No ono was there, but som6 one was i
tho ticket office, for I saw a light an
heard a voice. What did they want
Tho money !?oh, the money left in m
charge. Somebody was stealiug it, an
what should I any to Mr. Sayre ? M
God! I might bo accused of taking i
myself, and thus lose honor and pc
eition.
" 'Rather lose life,' said I to mysdl
t T *-".'11 fknf mnnnv Tinfr.n flpnfcll
JL YYlli UblVUU LliULI A. ?
imil I looked about for somo weapon.
"Under tho stove was a large iro
poker. Seizing it carefully, I starter
slowly toward tbo door. The light fe]
upon the ruirror, reflecting my figure
and I've often thought since, with a sic!
feeling of horror, what a picture of dcf
peration I was, clad in ray flowing, whit
night-dress and my hair all unbound
my face white as marble, and eyes di
lated and glittering with a strange
steely light.
"'God aid mo I' I said with whit
lips, and then opened the door of tb
office and stole softly in. A man wit
his back toward me was at, the other en
of the room. Ho had forced open th
drawer, taken oat the money, and wa
looking gloatingly ftt th? crisp gxw
> I
is bills, when 1 stole behind him. I hf
l- jnst raised the poker to strike him wh<
ig he glanced around.
le "My God ! It was Clarence Devargei
r- "'Hans: it! Now I fuppose I wi
have to kill this pretty '? He seiz<
is me by the throat, and muttering a fa.ii
id cry, I sank down. Just then Jack, n
it own Jack, rusbed in. I heard oath
s. blows, fierce struggling?then all w
it dork.
a, "For the first time in my life I fainte
36
id <1 Whan T rdcmrflfoil .Tn/it'o farfl m
18 bending over me, and Jack's voice utte
'y ed loving words. I pat my arm aroun
16 his neck and cried like a weak baby.
1,1 Aren't you hurt, Jack ? '
a* <? ?Not u bit, dearest. Devarges
disabled, though, with a pistol wont
!d in his leg. 'Tisn't very severe, but
lD will prevent his escape.'
" ' But how came you here ? '
'g "4 Why you see, when we parted th
morning, Nell, I thought I'd never si
you again; but to-night, after I can
* home, I made up my mind to con
' 'round and try and ' make up.' It w
pretty late, between nine and ten, wli<
re I came, and who should I see prowlh
- around but Devarges. Thinks I, ' Wh
y- does he want? If he's come a-courtin
v' why don't he go in instead of peepii
in ine wmaow t x ratner tuougun j
e" was a scamp, because when I was in t!
l.y city yesterday the chief of police to
me that they had reason to think that
r? noted gambler and black-leg had cor
at up in these parts. He gave a descri
'w tion and it suited Devarges perfectl
to all except a mustache. And by t
way, Nell, that silky mustache you
muoh admired was false, and fell off
our scuffle.'
p. '-'Well, as I said, I saw DevArg
prowling about, and I thought Is
id what he was up to. He looked in at tl
ft window at you, and I heard him mutte
' The deuce take it I She is at hot
^ after all! What the deuce made h
say she was going to her grandmother'
ce Now I suppose I'll have to wait till n
I pretty bird's asleep.'
So ho sat down under one tree ai
I under the other. We both saw yc
?? when you opened the door and look<
d out. After you had been abed about i
1> hour, Devarges forced open the oittini
;e room window and crawled in. While 1
was in the offlce lighting the lamp,
7- also got in at the window and conceah
myself in the closet, and?well, yc
know all the rest."
" 'Jack,' said I, tearfully, 'you'
forgive me for being naughty and wa;
^ ward, and you'll believe mo when I sj
? that I loved you all the time, won
you ?'
;e "Well, Jack said he would, and v
6 have been happy ever since. And th
10 is my story?my only romance."
;e ????
A Wonderful Swallow.
e The Toronto Mail is responsible fc
d the following yarn :
" A case whioh will doubtless proi
e of some interest to the medical profet
1- BlUJl, UUUUJ I (JU 111 VUIB UlbJ UUUJJg It
past week. On Wednesday last M
>t Fred Perry, of the firm of Perry
n Grand, King street west, complained <
a disagreeable tickling sensation, a<
r companied with more or lees pain, c
. j the inside of the left foot, immediate]
j over the instep. On retiring to rest tl
following night he made a careful e:
3 amination of the limb, when his attei
q tion was directed to a small, red, water
pustulo, resembling an ordinary pimp]
1(j on the surface of the skin. Oarefull
8 manipulating the part, he detected
sharp-pointed substance, which, on be
ing extracted, proved to be a horse-hai
re about a foot in length. Had the foreig
w body been a needle, there would, <
course, have been no difficulty in m
^ counting for its presence and present
j tion on tho surface of the body, as it
]e well known to surgeons that needle
r. when swallowed, invariably reappear:
due time at some of the extremities, ar
* are thrown off without any injurio;
consequences to the system. There
jj. somethiug, however, very singular i
the case of Mr. Perry. It seemed a
, mnst, incredible lhn.fc a slender hors
,8 hair, twelve inches in length, shori
have traveled from the stomach (for
_ must havo been swallowed) through tl:
g' muscle3 of tho intestinep, leg and foi
without its prtsonce being felt. M
jfl Perry is unable to give any satisfactoi
jj. explanation of this curious pheuomeDOi
but thinks that ns lie was iu habit of s!ee]
^ ing among buffalo robes while eojoun
ing in Manitoba, some years ago, 1
if may have swallowed the hair in que
n tion."
;tj Now the question is, whnt did M
. | Perry swallow ? Not a bair from tl
'g buffalo robes, for tho reason that, if 1
cj had, tho hair, when found, would n<
,Q havo proved to b9 a horse's. A horse
At hair twelve indies long could only con
3~ from Lis toil?rarely from tho mane, i
j that length?and it would be difficu
y for a man to swallow a horse-hair tweli
inches long under any circumstance
There is a popular superstition that
_ horse's hair will, in water, turn into
thread like snake. The3o wrigglin
v little reptiles, however, are only to fc
*e seen under peculiar conditions of tb
I animal economy, brought about by eve
^ doses of fourth-proof corn-juico <
? Jersey lightning. Was it a snake tl
gentleman extracted from his foofc?i
Turf, Field and Farm.
M
d Near-Sighted oess aud Far-Sightcdnes?
d Presbyopia, or what is common1
g known as far-sightedness, is found t
rt supervene earlier with those who a]
I constantly at woik than with other i]
0 dividuals, and, as soon as it does, coi
vex glasses should at once be rcaortf
). to, without which the muscles of accoE
modalion would be fatigued to no pu
po3e; at first, thoy should be ufod f<
e working in tho evening, after the f
tigue of the day; but a long-sightt
U person should only use spectacles ft
[. looking at near objocis, nnt at far one
Work requiring close applic ition favo;
?t the development of myopia, or nea
d ! sightedness, precisely in proportion i
!0 1 the conditions of illumination are bai
1 ! and, if the action of thono causes coi
^ i tinues. the mvonia must increase unt
! vision is lost. If tho eyes ?re fatigue
11 ; by bail artificial illumination, blue c
(11 slightly-Hmoked or smoke-colored jrlas!
t. ; es are nsefnl; ml. in order to avoid tL
n lateral rays, they tihoald 1)3 largo an
d i round. In case of persistent irriiatioi
? : all work should bo abandoned, and a
y | examination made to see if there bo an
il j disturbance of refraction elc.
y ~~ "
it: Voices Restored,
>- ! There is no mnchino which can fc
I more curiously repaired Ihnn tho humn
'. ! frame, s ijs a New York papei
,' j Science ar.d ingenuity restore tho beat
od promontory of tho face; Icnglhe
n { contractod limbs and furnish eyes goo
d ; to look at if not to look with. And no
II we read of a lady of local celebrity i
), i New Jersey, whoso voice was quite lot
k ; by an accident which iujnrrd tho bone
i-1 of the nose. Surgical ability patients
e exerted bap so mended tho matter tlu
I, I tho other night the happy lady snug i
t-1 a concert quite as sweetly as ever. Poi
, ! sibly tli is novel Rort of work can bo ca:
lied ranch futtber. There aro man
e persons of groat musical aspiration
c but without voicfl at all commensurate
h and majbe tiu? f<?mo ingenious turgec
d can cbango M?oir v onl apparclup, at
,0 make tbem siusejs of tho prime soi
lb Thin might be a great relief to conce
B gorru, equally so to evening putii
id ITEMS OF INTUKKST.
Men of scents?Perfumers.
'' A cornstalk never complains of hating J
PJ the earache.
;c| Specch has been restored by use of %
f* chloroform.
3 When a mule weeps does it ghed
ag muleteers? ?
We've seen storms that'were hail fel-^>j
cJ. lows well met. a
Persons of abaDdoned^habita?Dealers 1
as in old clothes. I
r- A photographer belongs to the tine f
d type of humanity.
final min?rs rlarfl not fl&T nothing hnjf "k
been made in vain.
j In cold weather thermometers are
down ia the mouth.
Chief Joseph wears coal black hair
banged on his brow.
is 'Why is the letter B like a hot fire! . (
ee Because it makes oil boil.
16 Two solar eclipses invisible in this
16 country are down for '79.
f8 A paste-pot doesn't denote time, yet . i
311 it is known by its stick.
at Why is a lazy man like a magician ?
g( Because he works by spells.
ag Succeed in satisfying others, and you* ; v*jfl
ha own contentment is assured.
he Eighty thousand inhabitants make
Id Richmond, Va., a bustling city. V-f^j
a " Give him the rest of it in a pailM ia
ae the latest slang among the gamins. .; v *
y" There is a man in the moon, asd -a '
^ man and woman in the honeymoon. >
bo A bird-fanoier calls his canaries
in " Riches," because they have wings.. >
A prima donna is naturally a timid ' v.$jj
es creature, for her art is always in he*
ee throat.
1:6 The boats on the Erie canal, engaged
sr: in the grain trade, are valued at$20?ae
000,000. $
?r | Some people never mind anything', '
for the very suusiannai reason mat mey , .
v have no mind.
1(j "Oh come, come, hay weigh I" as
m the Impatient farmer said to the man at '.JM
?t] the hay scales.
in A new book, like a fresh lobster,
g. doesn't benefit a man nntil it is road
ie snd digested.
I It costs Russia nearly $125,000 a yeav
id to Lave her newspapers supervised in the
>u interest of order.
A good report lingers on its way, bat ^
II an ill one flies straight to where it can ,
J" do the most harm.
lZ The year 1878 will be notable for the
death of distinguished persons in nearly ^ M
7e all communities.
ia A man sometimes seems to be asleep ^
when he is merely rocked in the cradle
of the deep thought.
The orange growers of Florida ore
turning their attention to the makingof - ^
)r wine from oranges.
,e When does the rain become too fa- y,'^
5 miliar with a lady ? When it begins to . Sag
te patter on her back.
r. A Nebraska physician says the crce?r '
6 sive use of the potato is one of the
jf causes of diphtheria.
2- Shero Ali Ins 3G0 wives. His afDiir
|n with England, therefore, is only a
J change of battlefield. . jMHjftfauffl
16 The true empire of genius?its
?" eign sway?must be at home anif|pJK
the hearts of kindred men.
[g A deaf mute stole a coat the other day*
in order that he might be taken into *
g court and obtain a hearing. ^
, Advertising is always in fashion.?: .
r> Yonkers Oazeltc. Because it shows up
jj the styles.?New York News. ''fS&k
ol Color blindness is one of the frequent
c- results of abuse of alcohol and tobacco,
a- according to Mr. Favre, of France*
ifl The man who unexpectedly sat dawa
p? in some warm glue thinks there ? more M
'n than one way of getting badly stuck. .v-'JS
A rich gold mine, which shows" eviv
dences of being worked in past ages,
. has been discovered on Mount Laz&r- ^
asco, Mexico.
e_ " The course of the weariest river vf|
ends in the great sea and if you've a
it tough, torpid liver, we advise yoo a
- rfnntfir tn ffid.
IS ^
3t The candiuates of the muses
r Whose thought-fires fliaker and fade ?
' Where fancy with feeliDg fuses, . -.'2
7 Their sconces should rub with"poom-aid. . >'
^ At all ages novelty bath claras in- -v?rg
l2[ deed, but in mature life itia tinged with ?||
" sadness, owing to the premonition that g_
we are drawing on the last resources.
There is many a rich stone laid up in , ? J
r, the bowels of the earth, many a fair
,e pearl laid up in tbe bosom of the sea,
10 that never was soen, and never shall bo. - "V
at During the last year 5,314 books have & <;
's been published in England ; of these 0 %
le 3,730 are wholly now, and 1,584 are new
it editions. This number exceeds by 250
It the total of the previous year.
76 It tabes a man a long time to learn t
?* how to fall down grace mlly and satis- . -1
a factorily to himself. Nine men out of * >J
a ten are inwardly dissatisfied with the - * ^
8 undertaking after .they have tried it, ?
16 and always get up very much disgusted. ?
0 And it don't seem to comfort them a
r* bit if they happen to cast their eyes rj
around and see how some of their - *
ie friends appreciated the performance. ^ *??
EXERCISE IN PRONUNCIATION. .
There was a youngfellow named Cholmondeley
Who certainly acted quite dolmondelef, < "'J
' When hia girl said'' amuse me,"
|y He stammered "excuse me," ' ^
;0 And then he apologized holmondeley.
re His friends said hfo first name was Beanchamp.** J- ^ :
3. (To pronounce it yon never can teauchamp),
a. He resided at Greenwich
, And Uved upon speenwich
u An.! ovfiVhnUflB wh^n ha could reauchamp.
r* The jealousy of dogs is notorious. *
Some of them, especially household
;,r pets, will show a great dialifce for young
; j children who come in to share the nffc-c- j?fts
: tion or carcsses of their master or mis3r
j tress. One dog began drooping', upon
the advent of a baby, refused food and '
rs | died of starvation, or, rather, by sni-**'
r" cide. A fierco dog in Paris sullenly en- '
I* I dured the presence of a child six years,
' I and then, as if his pent-up feelings y
j? j could no longer endure tho rage and
envy within him, ho found his way to f-.
(l tho bedroom, where the mother was w
undressing the child, siezed it and tore *
it to pieces before the unhappy woman
^ j could rescue it. - ?'
>> ^ ~\'?
n Patience. ^
y Since the days of the sorely afflicted ,/>4
Job, patience has been a virtue well > ; 1
i worthy to be practiced by all. It is tho ... a
I patient plodder that acquires greatness *' ]
ie | rather than tho giant intellect. Tho
n : greatest inventors of this or any other ' >? .
r. j age, have only become so by patient
i-j investigation and trial. The astronomer ^ V
n ; must have patience as his eyes wander
d ! among the countless multitude of stara?
w ! that gem the canopy of the .heavens. He .v.j
n j can not learn the names of even the sen- *
:t j tinels upon the outskirts in n singlo
night. So with tho scholar. He can 1.
y | not advance through that which has cost. ;
it I otliors years of study in a "singlo day. -
it Sir Isaac Newton thought long- end . *?
s* well on the subject of gravitationl J" '
r- Franklin studied deeply into the causes
iy that produce the lightning. The finest V- 4>
b, writers have advanced step by step
iUrt wB*.!Atto afflrtflfl /\? \ -U
3 , lliiUU^li bUO TH11UUQ W4..
m tion until they have attained to super!- * ;
id on'ty. Then let every ouo be patient,*
fc. whetliev in aicknesa or in health, and,
ft our word for it, you Till feel Wetter ftr ;
m the effort* "
/