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V HIS DEAD SELF. BT MARY SHAW. &n lOTig-flettd hopes he is still intent In the dear old home -where once -we played; Tie 1 -who shrink, he is innocent? The sad-faced young dreamer I betrayed. He comes and goes along darkened wayB, Sings the old songs we together sung", Dream3 the foolish dreams of long-dead dayi Whon hope yet lived and I -was young. k fitting ghost of that long-lost time, He dwells back there with life's fairest thing Dark eyes, soft lips?oh, dt ar Gc d of mine? Love's sweet promise and exchange of rings. In that world-lost, nook bless'd hope still live Faith, love, and truth abide v.ith him; Jdl 1 have lost fond memorv gives Safe refuge in that lono Eaen dim. mC.P.Ion, X. C. IB! ran* urn An Exciting Story of the Wa of 1812. BT JOHN R. iTCSICK. CHAPTER XII.?{Continued.) Mrs. Hatchet stole noiselessly away ( the room of the wounded man and foun him still qnietly sleeping. Then si returned to the piazza. Both listened t the noise and confusion all along tt line of earthworks. There were Ion roices and the hurrying of footsteps c men. "The spies have again been at worl Mrs. Hatchet." "Then they cannot charge him wit being a spy." "Who? "The deserter of the Xenophon?th? mv6terious cuaner who drove the man-oJ war from the harbor." "But Jack believes he is a spy." "He cannot be, for Griffith sa d he wn ft prisoner locked up in the guard-house and it cannot be." "It don't make no difference who it iB, Mid Mrs. Hatchet; "theie is great dange to ns." Ola agreed with her, but felt som little relief in knowing that that Strang man in whom she had gie.it interest wai now above suspicion. ' In the noise and confusion the two wc men did not notice that the guard, whici had been left at the house, had forgatte: their duty and were hurrying down to th parapet where the excitement and confu lion was. The house was entirely unprc tected, and the women at the mercy of th marauders who might be bold enough ti enter the home. Captain Gatrell's house, the reader wil doubtless remember, stool on the hill a the extreme north end of the village, am was just within the line of earthworks There was a ravine spanned by a foot bridge between the house and the village This isolated house was some distanc * -ii ?j v. u~uiu any oiuors, sun ciwhi u raided without any one elso in the villag being any the wiser. After a" while the excitement seemed t die away. The women were about turn Ing around to go into the house when th discharge of musketry in the distance wa borne to their ears. .What doe9 that mean?" Ola asked. "There is fighting down there." For a few moments a sharp firing wa beard and all became still. Then cam a hurried tramp of feet, and the voice o the Yankee S.mon was heard to say: "Come on, boys. Con?arn their pic turs, we'll make 'em think old Nick's eou to-ni^ht!" Ola could hear the Yankee with abou fifty others leap the breastworks an hasten away through the woods in th direction of the firing. Again all became silent and Ola an Mrs. Hatchet re-entered the house. The 6tole to the invalid's room and found hir till asleep. All through the confusio; and uproar of that terrible night he ha lept. Mrs. Hatchet at last prevailed on ou heroine to go to her room and retire Days or anxiety ana nignts or waKeruj cess had almost exhausted the poor girl and her own room seemed so neat an quiet when she reached it that she though ehe could sleep sweetly. She threw herself on tfce tied witnoc removing her clothes and in a few mo ments was unconscious. The midnigb hour came and Bilence still enwrappe the Gatrell mansion. The church clock in the steeple ha just ceased striking twelve and tbe las echo was dying away among the distan bill's when there came to ihe window tho tame dark face which had peered in o v" the lovers. There was a diabolicnl gri: upon it, and tho eyes gleamed with fiendish delight. The window was noiselessly opened and a second figure appeared at his side Then a thin ray of light from a dar lantern appeared through the window The head and shoulders of a man wer thrust into the room, and he noiselessl wriggled his way inside. His companio bela the lantern so that the rays fell upo the face of the sleeping girl. The mas who wore the uniform of a British office] walked noiselessly lo the bed whc-re th sleeping girl lay, and, saturating a hand ' kerchief with a liquid from a vial, hel it a moment to her face. Her breathing seemed to cense, anc lifting the apparently inanimate form i | his Btrong arms, he ran to the windov leaped through, and joined his com panion. They hastened with their fai captive to the parapet, scaled it, an were hastening through the woods whe the sentry hailed them. "Come, Bill, run; they're goin' t shoot," said the abductor, who carried tb insensible Ola in his arms. Both set o t a run into the woods. Ilvi-'.-gfc- ??. CHAPTER XIII. GRIFFITH ALAUMED. Capt. Alton's course was. beyond doub . open to criticism. No man of muc military experience would have taken tb great risk which he did. He was one of those impulsive, dasl lug fellows whose success as militai men is dash and audacity. There migl be ten or a thousand foes before him. i knew not, and yet with half a dozen ra recruits he plunged on, perfectly heedles ^ of what was teforo him. or into whos hands he might fall. The mound was rock and une*?n. H: toilowers stumoiea over the sllp^ei rocks and fell at every few paces, "Come on?come on!" he called, evei few moments. "W? must take them i and learn something of thesu spies." For half an hour tho little band < brave but reckless heroes ran, tore, ar plunged through the wood, over the rougl uneven stones made slippery by the r< cent rains. "Griff," said Jack Hatchet, who h' kept at our hero's sid?, "them fellers our'n ar' laggin' behind I think ye s goin' to we<tr 'em out." Griffith pausod, for the struggle thro-f the darkness, brambles, and slippe ro K naa cm ms owu wuu buu.t. "Jack," tie paid, after panting a m ment. "we can't be far from tie beach." "No, Griff, I reckin not; ef re'll ie< listen ye'll bear tbe waters roar and das fcgin the rocks.fc The surf-beating waves conld t niiviriir hfiar.l fiom where thev stood, bj dc ^uaod of their companions reache their ears. "Jack, they have stopped." "I gness 80, Giiff, unless they fell i far behind they can't catch up." "How far are we from the works. Jack! "TVe must "he 'bout four miles." "What, so far?" "Yes, Griff, it's tbut fur anyway. Eag] Bock is jest ont on that pint o' land, an it's a little over four miles from Msnoa 1 Eagle Bock.; ? l nave acted very loolisn?very rnsn? ? in coming so far, when our village is in ht danger," said Captain Alton. JAt this very moment the enemy may be massing it some point for an attack." gl "Well, Griff, ef ye think there's Rny t* danger o' that," said the blacksmith, wa'11 ftliAn* on/1 frit hnrOt tn town jist r.s fast as we kin." "But our companions'/" Ey 31ngo! I "hadn't tfiougDt o' 'em." j" Baid Hatchet. "Well, I rcckin may be we t0 * kin pick 'em up on the way back." They stood several moments irresolute, listening to the dashing waves. B- "Jack," said our hero, seiziugthe black- w smith's hard rough hand in his, "don't you hear something?" Ji "Nothin' but the waves beatin' agin the Z1 rocks." was the answer. tli {"IHsten carerully. Don't you hear something else?" Bi " Tears to me like I do hear an awful ?? walkin'." "That is it, Jack. There's a large body of men somewhere. Now, whether they j / are friends or foes, it is impossible for tj, me to decide." "Guess it's impossible for any one to _ decide, Gritf; but thar's more on 'em than come with us, so we kin gue6S who it i6." 0, "Yes, Jack, unless our friends have tv v * a tim.A /.or, .r ueeu lo-cuiuivcu, u-, tr but that these are enemies." Bt The two Americans turned about, and began carefully retracing their steps. The ta ? | slippery stones and rough, uneven ground d made travel very difficult. . Despite all n, '? tneir caution tney stumniea ana maae 1# considerable noise. w o "Halt!" whispered our herw laying his cr . hand on the orm of his companion. a Both stopred and tried to pierce the bi darkness with their eyes. sc ' Jack Hatchet held his thumb on the , hammer of his rifle rendy to send a ballet d< to the heart of the first enemy he should discover. The Captain had only his sword Jt . and pistols, but tney were ri liable, and ? in this darkness of more value than a th " gun. They heard the irregular tread of men !e s hurrying, stumbling over rough, uneven it , ground. The Americans found it impo's' sitle to see these men, and of course had m " no idea who they were. Ci > "Jack, they must be marines," said the *h " j Captain. ai e I "Mayn't they be oar fellers?" P* e "No. There are at least forty or fifty s of them, and there were bat four or five ke who came with as." ^ k "Couldn't more a come arterwards?" Bt: h "Not very likely," suid the Captain, wi q "Those in camp would not leave without e orders. It would be decidedly dangerous . I for tliem to do so." k The body of men moved away. anJ all A e [ was again silence save the dashing of di 0 ! the waves against the rock-bound const, pc "Which way'd they go, Griff?" asked ] Jack. t "They moved back toward the fort." "Then they are between us and town?" at J "Yes." th * "That's plaguy bad," growled Jack. G L i "When we start thar we'll meet 'em com- ' ^ g ; in' back." e | "Yes, bat we mast follow after them," ur e j said oar hero. "It may be a large party T1 j marching to surprise the village and ep 0 ' carry it by storm." . i This thought was calculated to make nt q ' our hero not a little uneasy. He urged 6V a Jack to follow, and with remarkable ra- 0f ! pidity, consideiing the darkness and un- w< APflntiaec /\f t"h/i fViAV fnr I 11 ; vtvuuuao vi >"w | iu i the fort. Jack followed our hero as be-t I 0f 8 ! he could and managed to keep pace with i f0 e him- cl ,f 1 Occasionally, one or both of the Amer- G j icans plunged into some ditch or wei:t ' iei . j sprawling over some great moss-grown i th t rock, receiving slight bruises or injuries, wi l but r'r.ug vctiout a murmur to continue it I the *c;aai )'.2 j?sr :he hills and rocks. th d ! Ihey v ,;e cjiipelied to make no little ! ^ e noise, and Jr^q isatly paused to ascertain v. j if they were Jiwovered. d Although burning to '.'jAjh the villare, y 1 vyhich he believed to ho luia.itened with BE n [ an immed;ate attack, hi ;? t^rced to be bo a very careful, for there w. ? no knowing J j how many of the British soldiers or maj rines might be stationed at any point. jC; r ! Atone, of these hult6 they heard voices \ th [. j conversing in low tones. Beyond a j a . I doubt, these were a part of the marines | w< I, ; or soldiers ien 10 guard sumo uuiiu. j n( d ! "Do yoa hear them, Jack?" the Captain I in it I asked. ! hc I "Yes-" i it 1 "I wonder if we cannot crawl np the 1 i- i hill and get near enough to catch the f it meaning of their wordsi" cj d j "We can try." h,( I "Come on then. Be very cautious, and i ^i d ; don't move a stone or scarcely breathe." J ;t j Slowly and carefnlly over thd uneven ! t>, [t j ground they crawled. The displacing of j 0t ,t 1 a single stone might make sufficient noise j ve n j to betray them to the enemy. ; t0 u | They did not even dare to whisper, and j ar a scarcely breathed. The voices reemed to j 60 I come from a sort of a ravine, to reach j fe , j which they were forced to climb to the | >. | top of an embankment. 1 k i The young Captain was in the advanre ' \'i . j of Jack, and that individual had no little i th e difficulty to prevent some of the loose j v rocks rolling down to the bottom of the I a ravine below him. j W( q | alters was tne tngcjist awkw.irflest ! , j feller in existence," said the burly black- ; r| j smith as he clambered up after t?ie Cap- i C j tain. I t0 . } Griffith reached the top of the ridge, ! ar d ! and then with his left hand seized and I checked his companion. I, I The enemy were iust below them, and sv d ! when he got Jack to understand he must ' 0I r, j lie low and wait he crawled slowly for- ! ai [. | ward, inch at a time, until he was on the ' ^ ii j very verge of the precipice, where he j ca d halted to reconno ter and listen. j jj, e | Long he gazed into that dark abyss, and I by degrees his eyes seemed to become | c j more accustomed to it. He saw faintly j e ; outlined one or two objects, but whether | ^ fl they were men or animals he could not ! 0I determine. jj They might only be massive p:eces of etone. But, no; they wero moving. His hand , was on his pistol in a moment, and ho was be j] in the act of sending a shot among them, ; th ie b"?t on a second reflection he decided not ; th to do 60. He might be facing a foe tea I times his own number, and there might | ' be others near eLOUgb to surround turn I ^ and prevent his reaching the fort. [ w ie "l he fort is now tbe plac? for me," said ; w our hero to himself. "I must get there ' W; j, before they concentrate their forces foi I an attack." or Griffith Alton had enough military j in knowle<\u i to know that surprises are usually effected just about daybreak, ! 01 ' where the attacking party may have the advantago rf tbe nigbt to get a position, q 7 and the advantage of daylight to c!o their n fighting. The British could not concen. vt . trate their forces at the fort before dawn, w! ". and be bad yet two or three hours to reach tii I his post and" get the militia ready to re' ceive them. fe 3~ It is needless to say he was almost mad Wi , with anxiety. Several times be was on ^ tbe point of bursting all bounds of pro?. priety and rushing headlong through 1 every obstacle at all hazards, but bis , better judgment controlled him, nnd be ?, j listened and watched until the dark forms j b< had gone clown the ravine. ! bi How mauy there were of them he did ( if< not know. He saw but four, and was not j to even certain he had seen so many, for the i ?i.nn ; ^ were gone he touched his companiou's arm j G and bade him rise. i tfc * Wheie uo\^l Griff?" asked Jack- j b< it i hl we win follow (Tils riage tor some crs? j w tance, as it leads in the direction of the d< fort." "All right, Griff, but take keer ye don't hi tumble into the ditch; it's dark as* a 6taek ti f? o' black cuts along here." "I shall carefully feel my way with my s< sword," said the officer, who took the ii i# lead. 01 I They conld travel but slowly at best, w Q and Griffith, having missed his footing, b< fell into one of the ditchea, so laming 0 , bis kiiee th&t fqr a fevr jnom?nts _he w V' k* mipeueu to sit ana noifi it Between nis in as. They were again on the march, however, thongh Griffith wai compelled to limp owly along, when they heard the heavy amp of feet on their advance. 'Griff, d'ye hear that?" asked Jack. "Yes." "What d'ye make out o' it?" "The party of armed men who passed \ are on their return," said Captain Aln, after listening a moment. "Why are they comin* back?" "T /Irtn't tnn-w?T />nnnrttun(if>rRtftnd it." "By jingo, Griff, ain't they comin' this ay?" "No, they are coming down the ravine, ick," 6aid Griffith, considerably puzed. "Here, let us lay down behind ese rocss ana listen to tliem as tney go T. Maybo we can catch something as iey go along. Look sharp; don't let a ngle thing escape, but don't let them ;t a glimpse of you." "Have no fears o' that," said Jack 've got my eyes peeled, an' ef you say, kin jist knock over them fellers fast as .ey come along." "No, no; by no means. Don't try that lay low?whist?here they come." All was quiet save the tramping of feet rer stones. Not a murmur came from tat dark line of shadows as it filed down ie ravine, Btnmbling, shambling, and apgering along over the uneven ground. Their march seemed anything but miliirv, and yet Griffith Alton thought that iey might possibly be marines who were laccustomed to traveling on land, it toox some rime to get Dy, ana tnen, ith his companion at r.is neeis, ne ossed the ravine and proceeded through thick forest, intending to cut across a t of headland and get into the villag? ioner. "Jack, yon know the way thoroughly, > yon not?" he asked. "Oh, yes; I could go it blindfolded," ick answered. "Well, take the lead and let us get iere as soon as possible." "All right, sir; come on," said Jack, ading the way. "Ef ye say trot, trot is." "No, not quite so fait, and a little ore cautions, Jack," answered the aptoin, keeping pace with him. "Alough we seem to have the enemy our backs, there may be a straggling irty yet in front." "Don't ye be afeared, Griff, thst I won't ;ep my eyes peeled," said the veteran, ho kept stalking along with giant rules over uie tocks ana mroaga me D0d8. "Keep your ears open, too, Jack." "I will " He stopped so suddenly that Captain Lton almost ran against him. From the rection of the fort there oume two re>rts in qaick succession. "Griif, they're at it," said the blackoitb. Captain Alton listened. If it was an tack there would be more firing. But ,ere was not another 6hot fired, and riffith came to the conclusion that there net have been more spies in the camp. ".Now tbat it e too lato,' lie saul In as idertone, "we know beyond a doubt that be deserter of the Xenophon is not ? iy." Jack, who had been loudest in hie demciation of the deserters, made no anrer. After waiting a reasonable length time they again started through the >ods to the fort. Both were 6ileht, and ere was a burning anxiety on the part' our hero to reach his destination. The . ?i n ?1,~ ... us. n, lilt) lutuierv, mo iu un large, the trust confided to him by the overnment, ami greatest of all, bis anxty for that lovely being who was more an life to him, 6eemed to tire his nerves th an impatience wholly unendurable. As they were hurriedly tramping rouch the wood? his uuick ear c.iupht e souna 01 lootsteps again cdmlnglfr irdthem. "Jack, stop." "Yes, Grill', I hear it," sai 1 the blackaith, halting. "I gness it's anotliei itch o* 'ere. coin in' down here." "Lay low and let tbem pass." Crouched behind giant oaks the Amerans waited and listened. On toward em, passing within a dozen p.ice3, caina small party of men. Whether there ire twe, three, or a dozen, they could )t exactly tell, but they were traveling a great hurry aud seemed bearing i tavy burden. "Did they 'it ye, Luke?" one asked. "No." Captain Alton at once came to the conusion that some one of the marines had en wounded and they were carrying m away. His first impulse was to charge them. it tnen ne rememosreu tuai mere were hers near, perhaps near enough to prent his accomplishing his purpose and endanger his return to the fort. His lxiety to reach the village he had been i foolish to leave overcame every other eling. ".Bill," one of the men passing by wni sari to say in an undertone, "there's ankees out in these 'ere woods, ain't ere?" "Don't know, Luke." "Better look sharp, for I believe the sods are full o' 'em." "Well, we've got plenty marines 'ere to atch 'em." " 'Urry hup," said another, who seemed be carrying something heavy in Lis ms; "we've got no time to be 'angin' tck 'ere." Again our hero was almost incline.! to roop down upon thim. There wv-re lly four or five of the Britons at most, id he and Jack would be a match for em; but then he reflected it would iuse delay, and it was of the utmost lportance* that he reach the fort. "i his small pquad passed on, and our ;ro and Jack again started toward virion, which was now cot over two or ree miles away. Suddenly there arose 1 the night "air, in the direction the ritons had gone, loud unearthly iriek. It was beyond a doubt a female's voice, id bo wild and shrill did it sonurl upon e ears of the Americans that it brought em to a dead halt. "Jack, who is that?" asked our hero. "It's a woman." At this moment tnere came another Id cry. "Help! help! help! for heaven's sake, ill nooody come to rescue me?" The awful cry seemed to be smothered it in a groan. n*s if some one was holdg a hand over the epe iker's mouth. "Jack, I've heard that voice before." lr alarmed hero said. ""Who is it?" "It's a woman, an'it sounds like Mis9 atrell." With his blood almost frozen in his :ins, Griffith made no answer; but heeling about he started in the direccm from whence the cry had cou:e. Ail thought of the port, Manon, or dense had passed from his mind, and ha j as only intent on le ching the person j ho had given that shriek for help. CHAPTER XIV. "FIRE IF TOL' DARE!" Captain Griffith Alton always remem:r.d that night as the most trying of is life. In those few hours of darkness ? seemedlolive ages?ages in narassing, rincnting vexations, doubts, nnd fears. He did not know to a certainty that iq cry he heard was uttered by Ola T.? fnnt if eoornr.fi imnoKSihl? tat it could be her voice, lor he bad left er at her Lome, safe from all harm. He ad even detailed a special guard to atch her father's house, aud had no cml't but they were 6till there. 'J he Captain did not dream that they ad left their post and joined an expedion to scan the woods to- the *pies. And yet, try as he would to assure him;lf that all was safe, he found it almost npossible to do so. That strange, wild ry, that voice which, despite the fact, as wild and unnatural, had about it Huetbiog which resembled the voice of la, and he felt within his soul that it as Ola- < . . .v - It was an impure tnai grimed him, an impalse which is alw ays Eafer than reason. The young Captain, Btill followed by his faithful attendant dacK, was Hastening over a level stretch of beach in hope of beading off the British, when they suddenly came upon four or five men who were coming toward them. "Here they are, Griff. Now, by gfavy, they're our'n, or wo'11 hev the most tarnation scrimmage ye ever heerd on." It was not light enough to distinguish features or discern objects at any great distance. The party Captain Alton and Jack had so suddenly come upon had discovered them as soon as they discovered the party. Before Jack had cocked his gun, their guns were on the two Americans, and as they were not more than twenty feet apart a volley would certainly have been iatal to the Americans. But Jack's voice saved them. "Jack?Jack Hatchet!" said one of the men, and in a second every gun was owered"Si Cole, by jeminyi wny, Diest et it ain't our own fellers, Griff." So it proved. It was the remnant of their party which bid fallen behind. "Where have you been all night?" Grilfith asked. "Just doJgin' about," Cole answered, "tryin' to keep out o' the clutches o' the Britishers. They've been all around us." "How many have you 6een?" "We seen but very few, but we heard a precious sight o' noises all around us. There seemed to be two or three thousand on the march a stumblin' an' fallin' over these rocks." Griffith knew that the fellow's imagination had greatly exaggerated the real number of the enemy. "Have you seen any others of our men?" he asked. "No; 'twas too dark to Bee anyone. We could only hear 'em goin* by, an' we hid every time." "Did you hear that 6cream?" "Yes, we did, and every one o' us say that voice was just like Ola Gatrell. I could a sworn it war her " "How far away was it?" "Not a ouarter across the beach." "Did you 6ee them." "No." "Come, let's after them; let s rescne her!" cried Capt. Alton, trembling with excitement. "But there's a hundred Britishers at least " "I don't care if there are a thougind, I must know if that was Ola who called to me for help. Come on, or go home." With this Capt. Alton hurried away across the beach, which was momentarily growing lighter. "Boys," said Jack Hatchet, in a low, earnest, quick tone, "guess he means business. I don't intend he shall go alone, neither. Let's after 'im, an' if he goes to wadin' through blood to git the gal he'll hev company." Jack was gone, and after a moment or two of hesitation the others followed. It was momentarily growing lighter, and the form of the daring Captaiu could be seen disappearing into a dense cloud of fog which was rolling in fiom the ocean. They ran on and overtook him. For a few minutes they were struggling through a mass of dense fog which seemed to make the darkness greater than it was during the night. "Griff?Griff?where are ye?" asked Jack, feeliug his way. "Here I am." "We're comin'." "Halt?listen a moment and maybe we can hear some sound of them." "All right, Griff, that'll do, for be plagued ef ye kin see anything." For a few moments there was a dead Bilence, save where the sea rushed in and broke upon the rocky coast. Then there ! came a faint trend of feet, growing loader and louder every moment. It was the martial trend of 6oldiers. Captain Alton knew in a moment that it must be the s .me large party he had been dodging all night. "It's them same fellers what we've been hidin' from," s iid Si Cole. "Yes, the same'uns we've been hidin' from," put in Jack Hatchet. "I wonder if they have the captive who uttered the shriek?" said Griffith. "Dun know?tney're comin' this way, an' I expect they're on the march to the fort." "Boys," said Griffith, "we're but a handful, vet a haudful of determined men can accomplish a great aeai wnen they arecombined. Hereisaheapof rocks and bowlders; let us take our position behind them, and rs they come up fire on them, charge them, and drive them izio the sea, or recapture th.it unfortunate <yivl He spoke in such a rapid manner that his wo:ds seemed to thrill all of his followers. They aRS?nteu, and hastened to the rocks, behind which they ensconced themselves. The column of men cnme slowly forward, straggling and sprawling over the rocks in a most unsoldierlike manner. The fog w.is too dense for them to be seen, but from the sound of tLeir footsteps it was apparent that they were coming directly toward the pile of rocks. [TO BE CONTINUED.] The rifle with which the regular and citizen soldiers of the country are equipped is much inferior to the rides used by the soldiers of tlis clue' countries of Europe and will be displaced by another pattern of modern power very soon. Experiments upon a new r.fle are now making by the Gov x ?*ii_ t+c eminent m ilii duuuoao* j.k caliber is thirty instead of forty-five and the velocity of its bullet is 2f20( feet per second, almost twice that oi the present bullet, while its penetrative power is much greater. At a distance of 500 yards it will pass through sixteen inch pine boards one inch apart, j Toe deepest la&o m the world is; Luke Baikal, in Siberia. Its ar"""* over 0,000 square miles makes it 5 equal to Lake Erie in superficial tent; its enormous depth oft twcen 4,000 and 4,001 feet n its volume of waters almost eqni that of Lake Superior. Although surface is 1,350 feet above sea love bottom averages over 3,00J fee: Y the same level. 1,Wait i3 a wonder any of us ever ac , ' plisli anything. Until noon each; we think what lots of work we inf ed to do to-day. Afternoon, we' boj i::g for to-day, and sj/oil the rc the day's work in hoping and plan for to-morrow. Not one man m does more than half a day's work day, and yet- we ooiuplaiu aud v every day that we work so hard. Met are laziest in the morniug, ?nu do their best work three or hrmrs AfrAr thev cet up. The wo on tho contrary, can Jo better ivor Drst three or four hours after ge up than they can do at any other of tho clay. If anything hnp^et. interfere with the first part of woman's dav, the whole day is le | la;' qjz fa.r oil woi.'l' i-i oon/vu*rUwl j To devote one s bcu. ?o some j* | higher than one's self, this is th< | s-wer of the ages to all who woulc, perpetual interests, and live in ( energy which is imTnnTfn] ' \k.y&ui-^v. j ARCTIC ANIMALS. HOW THEY LIVE IN WINTER AND IN SUMMER. The Polar Fox and His Prey?Arctic Whales and Bears?The 3Iusk Ox, Walrus and Reindeer? l Seals and Fishes. i I "And why not tell how they live in the fall and spring!" one may ask, queries Lieutenant Schwatka in the Brooklyn Citizen, but when I say that in the coldest parts of the polar regions there is hardly any fall or spring, but summer rushes into winter at a rate we can hardly comprehend, while winter jumps into summer with a suddenness that would sprain the back of the clerk of the V.A f A TAIIattT lfo WCttlUCI 11 UC UtlCUi|JlCU IU A1S14VS.VV A wo changes in these cold regions; -when I explain this fact it is clear to see that no one "would be callcd upon to give a spring and fall catalogue of Arctic diet for its wild and savage denizens. EIDER DUCK. In summer, as would be expected, the polar beasts and birds have the easier time in procuring their food compared with winter. The polar fox then finds an abundance of eider-duck and dovekie eggs, and occasionally catches the birds themselves, while in the winter time he has to skirmish around pretty lively among the ptarmigans and polar hares to keep his appetite down to zero. If a "flensed" whale, or one that has had its blubber stripped from it by the crew of a whal ing ship, floats ashore there Reynard is sure to be in for a royal feast, while be is usually surrounded by a perfect polar menagerie of white bears, wolves, wolverines and others, all living in comparative harmony, for the simple reason that in the huge carcasses there is enough for all and ample to spare. But, as a usual thing, if such an enormous chunk of meat as that floats ashore in the Eskimo country the people are remarkably diligent about camping alongside of it, for then the problem of dog fooi for the winter is settled, while if a tight pinch comes in their own diet they are not averse to whale meat iD the least. But usually when the Arctic whale is"flensed" of its blubber, or fat, of a foot or two in depth it sinks and only floats ashore when the gases of putrifnetion are developed, and then its tfesh is decidedly "gamey," if not worse. The polar whale, on its part, lives on a small marine creature not longer than a grain of corn, millions of which are needed to make a meal or even a mouthful for this monster. This miDute clio borcalis, as the scientists call it (not near so long as its name), or '-whale grit," as the whalers, less poetically, style it, often abouuds in such enormous Quantities as to changc the color of the sea to n deep olive-green. Through this mas3 the whale laches its way, right and left, the back part of its teeth (which furnishes :?iusk ox. tho whalebone we are so used to seeing) being covered with a sort of hair that interlaces to form a sieve or net when the hu^e beast ejects an cuormoas mouthful cf water filled with grit, "thus catching the clios by the myriads at each suction and ejection of the water in its nintith. This is its foctrl iu the fall, win tor. spring and summer; but what the ciio lives on 110 oue hes yet informed us. The fox, on its part, occasionally furnishes food for the Eskimo, but as the Eskimo is not an animal we are not called on to show he is ied either in the summer or winter. Still it may be interesting to note that no less a distinguished Arctic explorer than Sir John Ross has partaken of the polar fox and pronounced the meat of delicate flavor and excellent quality. The polar bear, besides refreshing himself on an occasional whale, docs a good deal of fishing on a smaller scale, and in the summer months when the salmon are running up the Arctic rivers to spawn this boreal bruin can frequently be seen where the shallow rapids and ripples , r the ntlet >r on e na* '' dden r un' ' Icimo - ? j caQ hem but ' '* an a y alicent r do* over 0 icc s not ison, furtone i. 3 the with nters walepre ' rincs - -. i (Ding ! anil | ' re to . us ; ! the 1 O T i UU 1 I great- 1 i Hall \ avel- i gbe. ?take r j& fore 1 jbt, as c ' . | - . w; 'i" . .... /*?/* *i^tr MnMnBMnHnmMUHMHHBraHBwnMMi ~ ' a cliff or precipitous ice-hummick, hurl the missile against the head of a walrus? and enormous brute, twice the size of the bear on an average?and so stun him that bruin could rush in and complete the destruction at leisure, and thus secure a month's rations at a single coup. Many of the Esquimaux of my acquaintance also spoke of this curious but effective way the polar bear uses when circumstances are favorable. The most common food of the icebear (as the Germans very appropriately call this beast) is the common seal of the Arctic regions. This latter brute is the wariest animal of the north, and both Eskimo and polar bear have to display their keenert strategy to catch it. In the summer, when the snow is off the ice of the ocean's shore and islets, the seals can be plainly seen as black dots on the level ire. nrobablv asleen. but alwavs near x? * r? * - their holos, which lead down through the thick ice to the water below, and into which they can throw themselves by the least movement. Bruin, seeing one afar, walks up as near as he deems it safe, and then begins crawling on his wary prey. The seal, if it be sunny and pleasant, takes short naps, relieved by shorter moments when it is scanniug the vicinity for signs of any enemy's approach. During these times the bear is very quiet, and if not behind a chunk of ice or snow-iiummock,' which screens him from sight he is resting still as death itself, with eyes apparently closed, though really a corner of each is kept open, and in this way he hopes that the seal will take him for a hummock of snow, and which his white coat readily helps him to assume. During the naps he hitches forward with greater or les3 rapidity according to his nearness to the seal and consequent fear cr being heard or seen. When quite close to his prey his approach is very slow, and when but ten or twelve yards away and Mr. Seal is in the depths of a good nap Bruin make3 a rush and with a single stroke of his powerful paw MIXK. knocks the smaller brute senseless ant] so far away from the hole ia the ice that it cannot escape by that way, even if the blow is not fatal at once. In the winter time the ice is covered with snow,and this is "hollowed out" by the seat into a little snow-hou3e covering the hole through the ice, and connecting at the top of the dome with an aperture about the size of a silver quarter, called the ''blow-hole," for it is through this that the seal breathes when in want of fresh air. Here the polar bear watche3 for many a long hour if necessary, end when the first few pufis or snorts of the seal are heard, he crushes in the fragile dome of the seal's snow-house with his paw, impaling the creature on his curved claws, and proceeds to show how polar bears, at least, can subsist in the Arctic winter. The seal, on its part, lives oa fish, and one who has ever had occasion to come in contact with the countless school and myriads of fishy creatures that swarm in the Polar seas can readily believe that the seat is well provided with its favorite food. What the fishes live on no one knows altogether, but that they have enormous supplies on which they can live, even in the perpetual ice-cold water of those dreary regions is well attested by the immense numbers that are known to exist there, making the Arctic and subArctic seas truly the fisheries of the world. The sea-horse or walrus lives on clams, fish and an occasional seal, but if the flavor of the meat is to bo taken as a criterion two-thirds of the diet is clams. No one has ever seen the walrus at the bottom of the shallow northern seas digging for these bivalves, and just how he does it is not well known, but that their long tusks are employed in this work in some "way 19 undoubted. Captain Hall says that they come to the surface after digging each clam and spit the shells out net hokTA KlOn OI tueir LLIUULii^>, ao tuuog OUCiiO UOTW W.VU found on the thin, recently formed young ice in the fall of the year where the walrus has stuck his head through to breathe; ARCTIC FOX. but this seems too much like a horse walking down to the river for a drink after eating each grain of corn in his crib; both would starve to death on this plan, and not for want of corn or clams either. The musk ox and reindeer live on moss about the whole year. In the summer this is easy to get at and in profuse quantities, especially in the low,flat valleys of the Arctic streams aud their tributaries, as well as in the rocky portages that lead from one lake to the other, in this country that is so thoroughly studded with lakes and lakelets. in the winter time the problem is not so pasr. for much of tho ground, and especially that very part of it where the moss is in the greatest quantity, is covered with snow. The tops of the hills and ridges are kept more or less clear of it by the tierce gales that rage in the fall and spring when the snows arc falling, and this gives sparse picking to the reindeer and musk oxen at this season of the year. This is enough to keep them alive, evidently, but certaiuly they do not grow fat on it. In the fall of the year the reindeer are literally as fat as pigs, and great masses of tood* noo (as the Eskimo call the reindeer fat), sometimes weighing twenty to thirty pounds, can be stripped from the carcass at this season. But in the winter all this has disappeared and the meat is of a hlnisli slnte rnlnr that is Tint invitincr of. ill by comparison with the tender, juicy .teaks of the autumu months, when the eJ meat is fairly marbled with fat. The nusk oxen do not vary so much aa tho eindeer, however, and they are never rery fat in the summer or very lean in the vinter. The wolves live on hares, ptarmigan, eindeer and musk oxen, but on the atter only when they are old or decrepid >r have been wounded or disabled by rrM ^/.wvrtr*y, ?.irru+^mm* ';>?>^H^^HHfl|H hunters. They also occasionally catch fawn or musk ox calf that wandento^ Jj far away from the herd. The reindeer; . "I protect themselves by flight from a pacc . I of wolves, while the musk oxea form 4' fl circle, the calves and weaker ones inaider' and keep them at bay. Wolves aro alsa' I very destructive to Eskimo dogs wheoi I ever they are desperately hungry, but noc 8 otherwise. . v The Oldest Woman in England.. I Mrs. Morfew, "the oldest widow in I England," is now one hundred and fonjJ ' { | years of age and lives alone in -.a httlo ^ 1 cottage in the outskirts of London. - Slid, j still enjoys good health, has not, as ehtf says herself, "as much as an ache in hen little finger," and, with the exception of being a little deaf and having poor sightjj is still able to enjoy life. She can eaj anything, but her meat must be "cooke? to death" because she has only one toot? She spends her day in her cottage and if i > wheeled in a perambulator to the hous4 of a neighbor every evening to sleep! Her husband, who was a shoemaker^ died about thirty-five years ago *ndaha has lrved alone ever since. A gentlemajJ who recently visited the old lady thru ' <' describes his call: ( "Is Mrs. Morfew in?" I asked, anaj knocked gently at the open door. N& j answer. Thinking that there might bjj 7 a back room to which the old lady had retired, I knocked again, and againjj each time louder than before. For soma time all .remained silent, and then soda denly the heap of greyiih clothcs on tha old tumble-down four-poster began tot move, and soma one said in a far-away? unearthly voice, "Eh?" and once agaifiS as, somewhat staggered, I remained as the door, "Eh?" Then from the tanglea .-a mass there rose a small head, with d widow's cap pushed on one ear, wittf hair as white as the finest liar, and with! a face of a million lines and wrinkles/ H but still with a little flush of life, not unlike an apple that has once been! "pleasant to the eyes," but has now been "asleep'1 in the straw for manj davs. and has become shriveled ud and' wrinkled.?Chicago Herald. 1 _____ -r Dew Comes From the Earth. J Modern science has demonstrated that' the dew of which poets have sungJ likening it to diamond drop9, js w ' ; reality not dew at all, but the exhalation of healthy plants, true dew being evenl/ deposited upon the surface of the plant^ the under surface receiving more raois^! ture than the upper. Vapor rising from the earth is condensed by the cooler at-^ mosphere and deposited in the form ofj dew in summer and of hoar frost in win^ ter.?Brooklyn Cititen. . of tlic^test Style. ?Fliegtnde Bladtcr. J ',- ' i? i , A Glorious RlTcr. ;The St. Lawrence is a phenomenon among rivers, say3 Nature'? Realm. No, , other riv:r is fed by such gigantic lakes!? No other river is so Independent of th^ elements. It despises alike rain, sno^ VJ | and sunshine. Ice and wind may bd I said to be the only things that effect i^j '% I micrhtv flow. Something almost ad phenomenal as the St. Lawrence itself il the fact that there is so little generally known about it. It might be safety affirmed that not one per cent, of the J*| American peopl? are aware of the fact! ? that among all the great rivers of thie world the St. Lawrence is the only abso-jj . - j lutely floodless one. Such, however, is- s. the case. J ^ The St. Lawrenco despises rain and sunshine. Its greatest variation caused , by drouth or rain hardly ever exceeds a >'( j foot or fourteen inches. The cause oJ I this everlasting sameness of volume ii j easily understood. The St. Lawrence if j I fed by tha mightiest bodies of fresh) | water on earth. Immense as is thd volume of water it pours into the oceacji 1 any one who ha3 traversed all the inI mense lakes that fead it, and for th?, I surplus waters of which it is the onljj ! channel to the sea, wonders that it is not I even more gigantic than it is. Not one! wnfopo fhn fWft (VPAftf Ui V/p U1 buv w ft HtlV IAf V lakes find its way to the occan sava through this gigantic, extraordinary and wondrously beautiful river. No woaderj then, that it should despise tho rain and defy the sunshine. ? i Market or Marsh Gardens. ] .vla some of the earlier European worts on agriculture the name market gardener' is said to be derived from marsh garden er, probably because the principal vegetable garde us near the great cities weri^ located on low, moist or marshy ground^ Our modern lexicographers, however, do not, so far as we hare observed, recog-J nize the "marsh gardener" as the original of our market gardener, the latter being one who raises vegetables to be sold in a< market.?New York Sun. ; i i James P. Scott, sou of Thomas AJ Scott, late president of the Pennsylvania railroad, proposes, by way of expert* ment, to plant 1000 acres of rice neaf Kiwimmee, Fla. _ j /