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TRE MYSTERIOUS GINEE i | An Exciting Story of the Wai 1 of 1812. B* JOHN K. MUSICS. CilATTEK XXI.?Continued. Capt. Monteilh tie meanwhile, fir.dinj : f* n tolficc: *rv fn /?nr?fpr farther witl 1 " . tbe Americans, hr.d returned to Lis ves I Bel. "Mr. Burnett," said our hero, "keep th? ! glass Used on the port where Miss Gatrel I site." I "I have been watchirg her." "See that she is not moved. Anc j could you strike tbe ship with anotbe: | hell near her prow, so as not to en- i danger in any way tbe life of Miss Gat- j tell?" "Of course I could." "Give them their time, thirty minutes %nd eo more." Before half the time was up the manof-war bad trimmed her sails, rounded j to, and was wearing out of the harbor at . rapidly ns she could. Captain Monteith has doubtless con- I eluded that it will pay him better to rut the risk of a discovery from the short J than to lie concealed fcehind that headland and be exposed to our avenging long gun," Captain Al!on remarked, a? | he watched the departure of the ship. "They have had news from Baltimort j --of that I am sure," said Mr. Burnett. "A'cey evidently are airaiu icings nre i turning ont well over there, and the} want to lie low until they receive fuli j particulars of the siege. I suppose the] ! will not put to sea now?" This was a new thought to our hero, and it bronght a new fear to his heart j If they sbould put to s^a with Ola Gatrell aboard, would there ever be any hop< j of seeiug her again? Major Uridges was also on board th< I man-of-war, and he was the deadly enem? j of Captain Alton and Ola. Mad he beer fthungry tiger or an angry serpent hi | would not have been a worse enemy o; ; the unfortunate girl. "Oh, my God!" the lover groaned, as h< B8w the vessel standing out to sea; -"will they cast anchor or go on? It would hav< beeu better to have allowed them anchor?go in our harbor than to have driver thein entirely nwav." "It would have been fatal to our plani to have allowed thein to remain so near They could have plainly heard our hammers at work, aud could have easily in- ! terpreted the meaning." "So they could, so thev could," 6aic the anxiou6 lover, "but what will they d< cow. Are they going to stand out to sea?' "They may, but surely they will r?turn." "And yet they may not " "They are bound to return, Cnptain. aven if they should have information thai the battle at Baltimore huB gone against them. They would not desert the lane i forces of Major Bridges and leave then cere to ue sacrmceu uv tuu Auiotituus. "Ob, no, I guess not, and yet I feel e: very apprehensive," 6aid the anxious lovei who was wringing his hands and walking op and down on the works. "Cap'n, why couldn't we a sent ons into her Btarn an' Bunk 'erV" asked Simon "She couldn't a got eont o' port ef we'd t bed a few whacks at her." "No, no, Simon, not for the worlc would I have that done," said Captair j Alton, who still wrung his hands in impatient auxiety. "You forget who is 01 t>oard that vessel, Simou. Remeinbtr I Miss Gatrell is on board the man-of-w.:r and we dare not under any circumstanc< endnnger her life." "Oh. ya-as, Cap'n, I hed furgot that leetle bit o' infurmation, tba-at's sartin tut I reckin' it's somethin' yeou doan'j forgit, Cap'n?" And Simon winkec knowingly to Mr. Burnett, who 6tooc with folded arms gazing off after the de* parting vessel. "TJT ?. ?1 V JLl ttDW I OilC I U?V.UOU liVA iVirnc* W w- ( anchorage. Isn't Bhe near it?" asked - ' Coptain Alton. . 7 "Yes." "Is she going by?" It was a supreme moment. Every om ' held his breath, then, with the aid o: the glass, a splash of water was seen. i r "She has cast anchor," said the desert er. "Thank God!" ejaculated the lovor. i He wa ted untd he was assured that th< e6sel had actually made her anchor fast ?nd turning about descended from thi parapet. Mr. Burnett and Simon followed him "Now, Mr. Burnett," said our hero whose mind once more grew clear anc active, "let us lose not a moment. Le: the boats bo m good shape, and th< swords be beaten out of the bars of steel and everything got in readiness." "We have done all we can until nightfall," said Mr. Burnett. "The boats are ready," said Henrj Small, the carpenter, who had coiue uj at this moment. "I crot some o' the fish i rmen, and we fixed everything; got 'en ! til in trim." "If the swords were made and th< pistols fixed?" "Nothing can be done at them unti' nightfall, said Mr. Burnett. "Jacl Hatchet is repairing some of the old pis tels, putting locks and Hints in them, bu he does not dare to make a fire in hit forge until night." t Oaptain Alton determined to c:;ll 01 Jack in his shop and see what progress b< was making. He foundheipsof iron ani Bteel, corn-knives, pruning and reapir.j hookfl, waiting the dark shadows of nigh to be converted into weapons of war There were a few old swords, relics o i the revolutionary struggle, which hit j been gathered up, sharpened, and prepared for service. The blacksui'.th was at work upon tw< core of old pistols, trying to make then serviceable. Borne lacked locks, somt flints, some barrels, and some handles But Jack was in his element in this busi aese, and he wa9 rapidly turning then out. one at a time, making quite serviceable weapons out of them. "Well, Griff, I'll hev all these thing! ready by night, an' then I'll go to beatin j out the swords. Dun know what kinde: j of an out I'll make of it, but I'll pit some , thing what'll begin to look like cutlasses.' "You can't do it all by yourself, Jatk.' "No, that's so, I can't, Griff; but I'v? cot fifteen or twenty blowers an' strikers An' then thar'b anvils enough for all of ub Oh, we'll hev everything red hot au' i goin' as soon as it gits dark." There had been rigged up three or foui more forges, and Gritfith felt greatly en couraged, especially when Jack Hatche ! assured him that he would have every ' thing ready bofore daylight. Mrs. Hatchet at this moment came bi i the shop, and Captain Alton, feelingtba be had neglected the w ounded sen captain 6tepped out to ask how he was. "He's purty bad, Griff," she answered j 'He's a-ravin' a-most all the time, an' ] i don't know that he'll live till niornin' I'm goin' down now to see the doctor, an j git him to come up." "Has "he lucid intervals?" "Loose intervals?what d've mean, ; Griff?" "Does he come to himself at times, and seem to know things?" /M. V..1 ? nlvApl tima an' I VXJ, Y Ub j UUl, HO TCJjr BUUlk. II1UO, ou be sutfers bo much pain that he can i hardly 8'and it, when he does come to himself." "I will go at oi'ce and call upon him," i aid the Youthful commander of Manoa. j Mrs. ilatchet went to the doctor's ' house and rousgc^t&flt professional ceu- j tl?man from a'sweet sleep into which he had fallen, and telling him the oondition ' of the sea o iptain, urged h m to come at once, and hurried ksck to Captain Gatrell'8 bedside. . Griffith found the "frdanded man yerv i ' ' ' i-. ^sr* --r v - . -i*"" - ' ' v / .. . ..rs; feeble. He was restless and feverisli. His eyes were closed and he paid no at- i tention to his visitor until he laid his hand on his aching forehead, and asked, "Do you suffetmuch pain, Captain?" The dying sailor opened his eyes, gazed a moment at our hero, and said: "Griffith, Griffith, my lad, have you | come b..ek?" "Hes rational now?he knows me." | said the young omcer to mmselr. "He j must know that his earthly existence is | drawing to a close, and if he has any j more secrets concerning Ola ho will j surely reveal them." Speaking aloud, i he added: "I have not been far away, | Captain. I hepe you feel belter." * Vnw cViiriniiito. I'm pettincr tetter: I'll | 6oon be in port, piiipmate." nnat mean you, L?r.ts!n?** "It's been a long, tedious voyage, and very tiresome, Grift, but I'm neaiin' port, and I'll soon cast anchor forever in the harbor where storms never come. I'm tired, GritT. oh, so tired! this old stormtossed hulk needs rest, and reEt soon will come." The doctor came in at this moment, ! felt his pulse and gave him a strengthening cordial. "Doctor, can he talk a few moments?" the Captain asked, taking the physician aside. "Yes: if he has anything of importance to say he had better say it at once." "How long will he live?" "I cannot 6ay. It may be an hour, and it mav be two or three days yet." "Is lie rational?" "At this moment he is, but in three minutes his mind may be wandering again." Capt. Alton went to the dying man's 6ide, and, taking his hand in hio, asked: "Is there not something more of Ola's past life you wish to reveal, Captain?" "Ola?Ola?oh, yes, Ola!" said the eea Captain, opening" his eyes very wide, while an unnatural light beamed from them. "It was a very dark, stormy night. It has come again. Ho, ye, my l?,l? fn?lnn cnil nr trp'll folln- i tier! Steady, lads, steady! Ch, thr>t was a heavy sea, but 6he shipped it gallantly!" With a sigh Griffith turned away and ; left the room. "Don't go far; he m iy come to himself I in a few minutes, Captain," said the doctor. "If you wish to learn anything of j him you ha-.l better learn it .-.t once." ' I will be within call " And Capt. Alton went out upcn the rear porch. chapter xxn. on a beconnoissanci. Captain Alton had scarce reacned the porc h when he discovered two men hurrying across the bridge which spanned the brook at the foot of the hill. A single glance sufficed to tell him who they were. "it is Simon ard the deserter of the Xenophon." said the young officer to nimsett;, ""and irom me manner m which they -walk, and from the anxiety of their Sfaces, there seems to be something of importance on their minds." He descended the broad steps from the porch and went down the path to meet them. "What is it?" the anxious young commander asked. "Captnin Alton," Baid Mr. Burnett, "there is another violation of the armistice. " "What?" "The land troops are on the movo." "Leaviac camp?" "Yes." "Then this must be looked into at once." Captain Alton gazed at the sun and found it still an hour high. Thi6 had | seemed to him the longest day he had j ever known. It seemed a (iiy Ahich I would never come to a close. > "Mr. Burnett," he said, turning to the j deserter, "I am going to leave you in command of the fort, and with a small ! party I am going out to recounoiter." "Is this like a commander of a post, Captain Alton? Would it not be more in order for you to remain here, and send me out to reconnoiter, or Simon, or some on? else?" "2so, not under the circumstances. You are not acquainted with thiB country as I am. You know not the forests as I do, . and I cm go in safety, and will Le able to make a better report than any one else. There is something mysterious going on, nnd we must know what it is. We are working for victory now." 1 Mr. Burnett soon convinced himself 1 that whf.t Captain Alton wished was for . the best. They went back to the village, ( and there Caj tain Alton selected a dozen men to follow him. They were ail well armed with unerring rifles, and each in his belt had a brace of pistols r.nd a knife. Captain Alton, in addition to his sword, had only hiB pis* tols, but these were long aud very accurate, being almost equal to a ride iu range. Among the dozen men selected were Tommy Ruffles, Sam Perry and A1 Jones. Tommy Buffles, tho little tailor, had | forgiven Captain Alton for having won tbe affections of the cirl wbca: he loved and he 'was much concerned about t&? abduction. Tommy was not tho bravest of tha brjive, but had the pluck to consent, even to volunteer, to accompany our hero ou the expedition, which was so fraught with danger. Ho was a little nervous, it is tree, but ho would not allow any one to notice it. 'How soon do you intend to go, Captain?" asked Mr. Burnett. "I will go at once." "Will it not be dangorona to go before the 6un is set?" "No; the:e's a thick forest ontfce north which will screen us during the reconnoissance as well as midnight. There seems to be an effort on the part of the British to go to the beach, and I intend frustrating this design." "(.' an you do it witu outj one uuttu men?" "I can try, nnd I think I shall encreed," answered the Captain. All we;e ready, and with the brave young commander at their head the Americans sallied forth. After crossing the earthworks on the north of the village they had to ro over a narrow tr.;ct of cleared land, and plucged into a dense wood with a tangled under- | growth amounting almost to a jungle. "Keep a sharp lookout," cautioned Captain AltoD, who took tLe lead. "There is no knowing whero tbe British are at present, for beyond a doubt they aro moviug." Slowly and cautiously, the American! crept np the hill-side among the thickets and trees. "Halt!" , Captain Alton in a very cauiious tone gave the command, and the entire party, now deployed as a line of skirmishers, crept more 6teadily up the hill-side among the trees. ! i The ground was stony, rough and an- | i eveu. Great bowlders of rock had, centuries before, broken from the bluffs above and rolled down the hill, 6ome I even reaching the ravine at the bottom. At the top of fhe hill the Americans | halted. The weather was very warm, and, slight as the exertion had beeu, they were I reeking with perspiration. They were in a dense forest, wli-jre scarcely a breath of air could reach them. "GritF, where d'ye intend goin'?" asked A1 Jones. "I hardly know," Griffith answered. Ii "I don't inteud stopuint.' until I have as- 11 cerlaiiurt sonieiniug of the secret moves of the British." i "Won't we r.in right into 'em?" asked Tommy Unifies, somewhat neivously. "I don't know hut we may," Captain Alton answered. "We came out here to find something of these s' range nets of i the British, and it is possible that we in y come in contact with thc-m before we return." "But they're a hundred to ooe." "Tbnt mnkes no difference," growled i the stonemason. ' We'll male it the most interestin' period o' their existence Bf we do." Tommy Ruffles Baidnothing. Though it was evinced that he did not relish this most interesting period for tbeir foes, he kept hiR place with iron resolution, and determined to die rather than shrink from his post of duty. The little command of Americans were in the thickest part of the wood, where an object could not he seeu a dozen paces away. Captain Alton really depended as much on his sense of hearing as upon si^ht. After listening a few minutes they began to advance. Slowly and cautiously, like beasts of prey stealing upon Bomo sleeping victim, the Americans crept through the wocds, over hill and dale. At every few rods they stopped and listened, then continued still more cau. tiously through the thickets and woods. Their course was due north, and they | were getting between the right wing of the British army and th? sea coast. They came to a small, narrow valley, in the center of which was a cleared spot of ground, where was a small mound. Upon this mound Griffith halted and told his followers it would be better for them to rest and listen. If the enemy were making any m<?re they could doubtlees hear them. "Griffith, what d'ye tnink them thar Britishers are goin' to do, any way?" asked one of the villagers. "T finn't lfnnw "Rfln' brit it certainlv tnB the appeaiance of concentrating their forces toward tho coast, as if thet hid an idea of going aboard the man-of. war." "Goin* afcoard the ship?" "Yes." "What fur?" "Donbtless to leave tho coast." "Why, law bless me, Griff, let 'em go," cried the villager; "ef they're tired o* llanoa, an' wmt to give it np, don't try to hinder 'em." "If the prisoner on board the man-of? war was safe in Manoa we would have no objections to their raising the siege at any moment; but if they should 6et sail with Miss Ola G&trell there is no telling when, if ever, she would be released. Besides, her most bitter enemy is aboard that man-of-war." "Oh, yes, Griff; it is that scamp Bridge! what I heeril about a year ago. She met him some'ars, aud be kinder fell in love with 'er, didn t he?" "Ee pretended that he did, but snch an infamous scoundrel as he iB incapable of 1 loving any one." Ben, who was a very inquisitive fellow, continued: "Didn't ye hev a little fnes with him once, Grill?" "Wo have exchanged 6hots, and within the last few hours crossed swords." "I thought I heerd somethin' r.bovt tbet afore, but I guess I've forgot all that I did hear." "Quiet!" commanded the Captain in an under tone. "Unless my ears deceive me, I hear the tread of many feet." a-.iv ? j r- - r I All Deoame quici ae ueiuu, mm 111 u xcw moments the tread of feet became more audible. "Thar's some 'un, Griff; Bure's you live, thar's some 'un goin' round through them woods." "Remain bejf?don't move," cautioned Captain Alton. "Unless my ears entirely deceive me, the British army is marching down to the coast." The villagers from Macoa scented, and Captain Alton, accompanied by Tommy Ruffles only, crept over the hill in tha direction of tha sounds of marching men. CHAPTEH XXIII. A SIGNAL. The quick, uervons eir of Tommj Ruffles was painfully strained. flis'eyes were opened to tneir widest extent, and he jerked his head from side to side, as if he expected some British sharpshooter was about to blaze away at him "Griffith ? Captain Alton ? d'ye see anything?" "No, Tommy: we will be as likaly to discover them as they us, and more so, for they t'.o not suspect our being so near them, while we know just where they are," Captain Alton answered, in a measure to assure his somewhat timid companion. "B-b-but, G-G-Grlff, we are but a handful and they a great army." "They have no knowledge of our numbers, and so long as they are in ignorance of that fact we are safe. They may think lhat we have an army concealed in these woods, and we need not tell them that we do not number a score." "It will soon be pitch-dark." "Yes; but tbat will be to our advantage,* the Captain said. "While it is yet light let us ascertain from whence come those sounds of marching men." The sounds they heard were but a short distan- e away, and de^pito all his efforts " rrt to taie matters coony, xommy numes, nervousness increased. However, he had worked himself up to that pitch that, had be known it was certain death to take a forward step, he would have kept at the side of b's companion, who was advancing fearlessly up the ascent among tho trees. The sun was down, and a dark-graj' twilight was stealing over the face of nature, which was considerably intensified by the black bnncbes of the dense fore6t. They once more halted and Captain A.lton siid: "Tommy, do you remember the old road which leads from Belfast around those bluffs and highlands to th6 beach?" -Yes." "We must be near it, are we not?" * Yes, I don't think it can be very fai awav, but it's gettin'so dark, Griff, we kin hardly see anything." "We'll find tbe British on that road Tommy," continued the anxious Captain, who was paying little attention to the iatenee* of the hour or me new danger 11 might eugei.fler. "Now hold vourbreath, Tommy, tip-toe and follow me." Although Tommy was quaking like an aspen, and would ha-i given everything be possessed at that moment to be safe at home, he sot his chatterin? teeth close together, and followed his leader. They crcpt forward until the sounds of marchins? men seemed but a few rods away. "Bait!" a voice in the darkness commanded. The command was evidently addressed to the marching column, for it immediately came to a stand-till, as did the j Americans. It was too dark to see any- I th.ng, but they were near enough to the column to hea/ what was said, even in an ctrdiDary conveisation, by the officers in command. "Cnptiiin Cntler," said a voice in the darkness, "why this halt? Why not march right down to the beach? There may be more demand for haste than we think." "We'd better be a little enjeful how we plnnpe dova into that darkness to the beach, (specially as we go without orders." another voice answered. The Amer cans now listened w.th the most iuten?e eagerness in Lopes that they niipht Ket some of the enemy's plans. "The Yankees are shut up in their boles, and won't dare venture out," tb? Erst speaker answered, "and we won't b<3 bothered bv th.-in." "There is eo telling: thepo Yankees are wide awake. It would be just like 'em to have every foot of ground between this mid the bench guarded. Thoy are a set d' groundhogs, and can burrow in the earth in five minutes. 15esides, it is more 'n we dare do to take the command so far awav from tho point we were to hold at all hazards, without orders from the Major." "That may be so. The Major ought to have left us'some parting or;lers instead of slinkine away like a coward, as he did." "He's aboard?" "Yes." "D'ye know why he left, Captain?" "I've heard there was a woman in the steesomo w*y." "Poor exouse." i - . . _ -- V ^ "Right you are. Cap'n. When a mar starts out to for the king, he must leav? women out o' the Question." "1 ecfio ttiat sentiment."Griff, Grilf," Tommy Ruffles, who had A been listening very intently, whispered, "they are talking about Miss Gatreli." "Yes, beyond a do?ubt," the Captain returned in a whisper scarce above his p breaih Although Griffith wag assured that nothing they had said had been heard, he was anxious to hear all the British had to 6av, and fearing they might be discovered, cautioned Tommy against talking even in a whisper. , , "nnrmnr fVm rnomentarv discussion be between the Americans they in ? measure lost the thread of discos- bl sion between the British, and when o) they cnme to listen to them they were on a a different topic. rp "When'11 the detail start?" "In a few minutes. Lieutenant Wheeler .1 is to report. Ah, here he comes now." Some one approaching the officers Jc said: ?J "Captain Cutler, I am ready now to re- cc CeifA yrtjjv 'Xiksr'." rrl "Very well, Lieutenant, po down this n( road and see if the way is clear." "How far shall I go?" "We want you to go to the beach?to the ^ water's edge, and signal the Bhip to send "] in a boat for the dispatch." g] "Yes, Captain." in "You know what the signal ia to be?* hi "No." iE "Three rockets." "Have you the rockcts?" "Yfls; here they are." ai "Will not the signal be seen by the w Americans?" bi "What difference will it make? They p( won't dare to leave their holes, and we |r can give no other that would be seen after nightfall. Discharge the rockets one after another, and a boat will be sent ashore; then give them the dispatc'-." "I Tould (.ive much to see that dispatch myself," our hero thought. Was the information to be conveyed to the ship good or bad, Captain Alton asked himself, again hoping by careful listening to be nblo to gather the information from the British officers, but they failed to allude to it. "Lieuter ant, how many men are you going to take with you?" he noxthearJ some one ask. "Sixteen will be sufficient." Captain Alton st rted violently. Ati idea had entered his mind like an electric shock, and he seized his companion's arm. The idea was conveyed to his com panion, anil iommy was inmost uu mo eve of speaking out, so suddonly did the br.lliaut thought strike him, but he restrained himself. The plan conceived by both in a second's time was to cutotf this detachment of Britons, make them prisoners, and capture the dispatch. "Captain Cutler," said the Lieutenant, "why need there be so much delay in this matter? Why not let the three rock- M ets which are to signal the boat from the man-of-war also signal you to come t( up with your command?" "That would not be in accordance with ordera. You must inform the boat wheu ?( it pulls in the conditiou we are in, our *< exact position, the danger that thieatens, and rend this dispatch to the Major; al then await hie orders." (] "Very well, Captain; I understand." "Is it not dark enough now? I think there is no danger of your being discov- r< ered while crossing the beach." g "Yes, sir, it is, or will be by the time h we have reached the beach." v fnnfnin Alton thought he could almost see tfie military palate which the Lieu- 1. tenant gave on his departure. Griffith Alton touched Tommy's arm, Sf and by the motion indicated that the? k were to retire from the scene. Carefully tl they began a retrograde movement, re- a] treating slowly and cautiously so as no! to broal: a twig or rustle a leaf. [70 BE CONT1MUED. I ' VI A The Parisian Boulevards. Half the life of fashionable Paris is ff out of doors on the boulevards. About ^ them centers the brightest and gayest ^ portion of existence in the liveliest capital on the Continent. Broad, shaded,' a exquisitely clean, -with asphalt pave- j. ments whose smoothness arouses m the v visiting New Yorker doleful memories p of the stony terrors of our streets, they t] tre the most delightful and satisfactory c; streets for pleasure seekers iu the world. w The continual gayety and animation that u they possess are something unique. The a; open cafes,the ceaseless stream of loungers on the sidewalks and the throng of ^ superb equipages with loads of beautiful g women at certaiu hours of the day, all a: bdp to give the scene its peculiar fasci- ^1 nation. te The gay life of Paris centers about the g boulevards; the life of the boulevards El ccnters about the cafes. These are everywhere. Brilliantly lighted, with mirrored walls and crowds of well at dressed customers sitting at the little fc marble tables inside and out, they constitute a feature of Parisian lift that no other city can parallel. The cafe is the home of the typical Parisian. At the cafe he cats, drinks, reads, gossips and has his being generally. His house, if he has one, and his suit of apartments, if he hasn't, are merely places to sleep in. Monsieur lives on the bright boulevards and in the luxuriantly appointed resorts on them that de-light his soul. He helps to make the daily boulevard spectacle that he enjoys with a pleasure born of | his race. Take away the boulevards and be would be in despair. Deprive him Df the cafe and he would go crazy of ennui. The Boulevard des Italiens is the most ; strictly fashionable of the paradftstrccts of Faris. The Boulevard Montmnrlre is. . , perhaps the most gay, brilliant and typically French. The iucessantly talking [ throng, standing, sitting or walking, has \ . in enogy ol pleasure, an air ot reciuess jujoynient in the Boulevard Monmartre ihat the Boulvard des ilaliens does not show. Along the fashionable boulevards ind on the fine streets that cross them ire the handsomest houses, stores and places of amusement in Paris. The 1 bread avenue des Champs Elysees and J11 the avenue du Bois dc Boulogne are su- / perb driveways that arc thronged on fine days with the richest and most elaborate turnouts in France. The scene is one that even our Central Park in the height cf the driving season cannot equal. But | " Paris had a Baron llaufsmnn to make I .. her beautiful.?JS'ew York Mail and Ex- 11 cc vras. ... o* an No More Old-Time llojr Killinqr. yc "An olu-time hog killing,1' muses the | ^ August (Ga.) Chronicle, "ii, har.l to fiud now. Meat is bought too cheaply from '? the West. The prairie farms, where corn j ac is burned as fuel, raise hogs too easily to j "J1 allow Southern farmers the luxury of ^i killing and curing their own meat. You go to the packing houses of the West Qu and drop a porker into the slot. In tn fifteen minutes he comes in clear-ribbed 3tl and sugar-cured lots?with a can of pure lard thrown in, and all the hoof, hide and tallow present accounted for. The lu poetry and plenty of the old plantation ! gc have given way to the steam-packing I Tl ipills with their millions of pounds a ha asinoiith." ov FALCONRY. j REVIVAL OF ONE OF THE NEW [ DIVERSIONS. ictnresque Description of the Sport 1 ?How to Train a Hawk for i i Field Purposes?Amcri- ] can Birds ol Prey. I i A rainbow had been shattered by the linraer of Thor, and the fragments ! ere scattered over the western sky; a 1 ood-red highway ran in a straight line i rcr the sea to the sun, which rested like ( ball of molten metal on the horizon. ' here was a sudden rushing sound, and 1 )lt from heaven struck in the midst of ' lc sun path, scattering a shower of ( wels that reflected back the sunset hues : the sky. An instant later an Ameri- ' in osprev rose from the waves with its 1 listening prey in his talons. It was a ' )ble sight?a grand plunge, an uner- < ng aim, a skilful and quick recovery; ' id as I watched the bird rise higher and ] igher over my boat, and thought what 1 i-orwl rind nxMstir. and intfinselv interest- ' g sport it -would be to discard our I Doks and lines, our creeping and crawl- ' ig and disgusting bait, and to substi< 1 ite a ring or perch of ospreys, hooded < id belled like the falcons of old. II ] as an enchanting fancy, and nothing | at the grim necessity of being com&llcd to make a living has deterred mt < oni carrying out the idea. ! ISCXDERSTANDLN'G WITII A "HAGGARD." The ancicnt sport of falconry is about ) be revived by a number of wealthy len in New Jersey, where, in the open suntry, there are excellent opportunities. )r fun with hawk and dogs. . Falconry was introduced into England bout the fourth century, and flourished uring the Middle Ages and the Renaisince. From the peasant with his sparjw-hawk to the crowned king with his erfalcon, all were pasionately fond of awking. What were then considered ast fortunes were expended upon the ultivation of this sport. The grand laster of the order of St. John of Jcruilem sent twelve falcons annually to the ings of France. A French knight of le order conveyed the birds to his monrch, for which servicc he received as a resent his traveling expenses and money piivalent to $15,000 a year. Louis ill was daft on falconry, and always ent hawking before going to church. Jbert de Luynes made a fortune by his jientific training and treatment of the irds. Baron de la Chastaigneraie, chiel, ilconer for Louis XIII, cared for 14C irds, and employed 100 men to assisl im in their care. England and Germany were enthusi- | stic on the subject of hawking. No j idy or gentleman, noble of ecclesiastic, I ,'ith any self-respect, would appear iD | ublic without a pet bird mounted upot ; lie gauutleted wrist. The officiating J /imn tnrtlr tlinir liirds tfl rhurcfc itii them, only leaving them perched ' pon the alter steps while engaged in the | ctual church service. i i Formerly falcons were divided intc ; i vo classes, noble and inferior. The ( erfalcons were the nobility in the bird ristocracy, and the others, the falcon, le hobby, the merlin, etc., had to con- I ;nt themselves with riding on the I loved hands of esquires and people oJ j I nail importance. i i The United States is trell supplied i ith birds of prey, none of which prob>!y are not susceptible of being trained ir the chase. That they can be trained )' j knew, having as a tad reared many, jd taught them to come at my call and i be gentle in their behavior, not pinchg my wrrt when perch5ng upon it. his is half the battle, and any one witb me and patience cau do tl-c rest. In selecting a bird try to sccuro a atlfVlov tll.lt ic ? tlxit line K/i/jii I ng enough out of the: nest to hop from lib, but is as yet incapable of flight auii insequently unable to provide for it! vu wants. Paupers are always servile, id as this youug bird must live upon iur chanty he will he wore easily tamed an a haggard, thai a i'.'ll erowt rd that is perfectly competent to hunt r himself aud supply his own wants, j id is consequently independent, and, j ider restraint, fierce and savaue. Youn<r rdn that have just left their wild era- ] e on rock or treetop arc called eysas, t (1 are the most easily tamed and c lined; but they are apt to lack the u en^th and audacity of the bruncher or j Q e haggard. ' i; The brancher may be caught by the t: re of a pigeon or a quail, and the hagird by means of a decoy and a net. u tiere is a deadly enmity between tho u iwksand their nocturnal rivals, the c 7Is, and hence an owl is frequcntlr used " as a decoy to induce the haggards t? swoop down for the opportunity of a blow at their hated enemy. A tame hawk or falcon also makes an excellent decoy for his wild brothers. In the early spring hawks' nests can be found within twenty minutes'journey by rail or ferry from New York City, md young ones procured, which will prove interesting pets to.tho3C who caro to bestow time upon them. Should a demand for young or trained birds arise there are plenty of dealers in birds and inimals who would hasten to supply the narket with both the domestic and imported articlo, but if any of the readers )f this paper think of seriously trying :heir hand at hawking, they will enjoy ;he sport the more and understand the oirds the better if they rear and train them by their own hand. Hawks and falcons, being of wild and riolent natures, are at first insensible to both punishment and caresses; hence with an intractable bird want of light and food is the only punishment that will affect it, and it is of the utmost importance that the same person should ilwavs administer its food and care for Ihe bird's welfare. Having secured a jrancher, shackle its legs with the supple ;hongs of straps called bewits; tha befits usually terminate with bells. "With in old array buckskin gauntlet protect four hand and wrist, place the bird upon four gauntleted wrist, and carry it ibout with you night and day, giving it 10 opportunity for rest. If your falcon >r hawk tries to bite and fight you,douse ais head into a pail of cold water, and it trill quiet him, and then put on the eather hood, which will keep him n complete darkness. Three days ind nights of this will make the wildest bird inclined to be docile '.o i certain extent. Next teach the aird to take its food quietly, allowing 10 fluttering, fighting or undue excitement during its meal. Feed it with your tiand and never do so without whistling Dr {jiving the peculiar call, whatever it may be, by which you intend to summon the bird in the future* when you wiah it to resume its perch upon your CTwict Tf mill Uw f"hia mnnnQ lpfirn to recognize the call and associating the noise -with food, and food with its percb upon your gauntlet, will always fly tc your wrist when you call. Familiarize your charge with horses, dogs and etrangers. When the ruling classes wish tc strengthen their power over their jioorei brethren, they seek to make the poor dependent upon the bounty of the rich foi their supoort, and by thus destroying the independence of the so-called lowei classes, the cl-cs in. power retains theu position. Now exactly the same policj must be pursued with a way ^ard or fool lsh bird that prefers freedom md sellsupport to wearing a plumed hood on ita A DOUBLE STRIKE. head and bewits on its legs. With suet a bird, excite its appetite by forcing il to swallow pellets of tow mixed with j little wormwood and garlic. This-will increase its hunger and thereby make il more dependent upon its master, and consequently more docile, and the pleasure it derives from the gratification ol this artificial appetite will attach it mow f.losely to its master who feeds it. In a week or less the bird is tamed, and then you can commence with the draining. Take the falcon out in youi yard, or, if you live in the city and have no back yard, seek a retired spot in the park. Put a piece of meat on your band and, calling the bird, teach it to hop on your hand. By no means allow it to partake of the meat until it has inswered your call. Next fasten the neat to a lure made of a flat piece of wood and covered on both sides with the wings of the bird you intend to hunt or the skin of the animal you expect your hawk to pounce upon. Fnhood j your bird and show it the lure. If the bird strikes the lure, allow it to take the meat when it has answered your call and returned to your wrist. The string attached to the lure may be from ten to more than thirty yards in length, and when the bird swoops down upon the lure at the full length of the string and will then obey the call, you are on the road to success and know that the bird rccognizes the lure, and kaows that by inswering your call it will be entitled to the meat for its reward. This point gained, you need no longer fear allowing your bird freedom, because at >i moment's notice you can reclaim him with :he call or signal; even if he be soaring ligh overhead, at tue sound of the call ic will descend to his accustomed percb lpon the buckskin ga-iutlet. TIIE IMPLEMENTS OK FALCONRT. Yen: may now show T.iur bird living I jauie by letting the real animals or biri'3, : Kr tlio lnro flr nr mn ] n uli- I :app'jd by strings fastened to their legs, f your falcon takes these properly, binds he game well, and is obedient to the all, you are safe to take him to the field ud try him on wild game, and if you re fond of field sports you will be more Iian repaid for your perseverance anil rouble in breaking your brancher. Although the word falcon is often .sed indiscriminately for any or all birds sed to hunt, yet in the language of falonry there are many distinctions, accordto Yarrel; for instance, 'tEe lemafle peregrine was exclusively called the fa^Hj con, and on accoant of her great size, ^ power and courage, was usually flown aiJ berons and duck; the male, often onlj V two-thirds the size of his mate, wa* | called torccl, ticrcel and tiercelet, and I was flown at partridges and magpies. J Soon after the Norman conquest th? | birds were regulated by law with nice distinctions; one style was for kings, as ^ we have before stated, another for princes of the blood, still others for dukes and great lords?fifteen grades in all, which reached down to the knave. Naturalists are as bad as the Normsrs or worse, and divide and sub-divide and quariel over the sub-divisions. In 1874 two well-known authorities published a list, one making six species of goeh&wkl (Astur), and the other thirty-one; the latter made only twenty-three sparrow- , hawks and the former forty-five. Accord ing to the latest authority at band, tb0 hawks differ from true falcons in noi : having a toothed or notched bill. The goshawk of the United States lions of our handsomest birds of prey; tb4 ihe crown of his head is deep black and 1 the upper parts bluish-slate, darker at the tail. There are no cross-bars on throat, but cach individual feather has an!1 artistically arranged dot or dash of color* It has dark tir?ced wines, a tail of till , Baraehue, with obscure bauds across ife A broad white stripe with flue black peni ciling running from above and behinr the eye adds expression and fierceness tf the face. Audubon loved to watci this bird and describe its bold, darini adventures as on strong wing it sailej over the American wilds that have, sindbecome populous towDS and farmiiu districts. It would take a volume describe each species and be unnecea~ sary, as tne only ooject or tms artiile 9 to attract the attention of the sportamd to the grand possibilities for sport vha would be opened by a revival of haws ^ iDg. The fair sex "would also have an op portunity, for "in" days of old, whe' v knight3 were bold," ^he knight alwaj : paid his court to his fair one bj H}? marked attention to the falcons. iJsiiij : the greatest judgment ia flying the bin * at the proper moment, never losing sight of it, encouraging it by calls, following it and securing the prey from tho deaul dealing talons, and with a caress as a roj ward for the lucky or skillful work, thi knight would slip the hood oyer tfci^ bird's head, and with all the grace lij;'. could assume place the falcon on thi slender wrist of his and the bird's mi* tress.?New Orleans Times-Danger at. The Heir to Austria's Throne. \ The visit of Archduke Francis FerdW nand to the court ot St. Petersburg said to be regarded with great ,*ati*?f faction in Russia and Auatrian Govern-j ment circles. The Archduke is heit pr<H Buinptive to the Austrian throne and there is a general belief that his visit hat i-i? !-1 Tltfl mafMAflA M <l matnmuuiai uujtxi. xuc tuiutia^y v? the prospective Emperor of Austria to a near relative of the Czar would out anj ARCHDUKE FHANCIS FRRDIKAKD. end to all danger of war between the two empires for many years to come. It was recently stated that the younjr Archi duke was to marry his cousin, Princefl Elizabeth of Bavaria, but the match seems not to have been definitely arranged. If the visit were merely of i political character Ferdinand would bi accompanied by some of the Austriai XTirtio + AM a a Yi a 10 ro^Vinr TTAimf* in tHi iUiUiOWiD^ UO UV ID lUkUV* science of statecraft. B Considerably uncertainty exists in public mind as to the identity of thfH heir presumptive to the Austrian crown^B The direct heir to the throne is Archdokflj Charles Louis, the Emperor's brotberfl| and then his eldest son, Archduke Franai^H Ferdinand, -who has resumed the desto^J nation of D'Este ever since he inherite^H the wealth of his uncle, the Duke Modena, amounting to ?50,000. Failjflj ing Archduke Francis Ferdinand, is unmarried, comes his younger brothers^ Archduke Otto, whose wife is th^H Princess Maria Josepha of Saxony. Tbe^Hj have one child, a little boy, who bear^B an extraordinary resemblance to hli^| great-grandfather, Kaiser Franz. Prino^B Francis Ferdinand was bom in 1863^^ The fortune which he got from the of Modena will pass when he becomeflj Emperor to his brother Otto. The Prince recently visited Englan^H and it was said at the time that he wishe^H to improve his acquaintance with th^f exiled Orleans family, who have sevcra^H rather good-looking Princesses to b^fl married off. lie is, like most of Ilapsburgers, a very distinguished-look^B icg man, is very carefully educated, ba^H considerable artistic attainments and said to be a good soldier.? Chicago PowBt Hnfl Unappreciated Attachment. SB A gentlemen of leisure, wishing tflfl leave the country, will trade (thoug^H very much attached to him) a fine w&tcfl| dog for a fifty four calibre revo^^^^H