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THE BANKERS GRIME;! OB Diamond Cut Diamond. BY NATHAN D. T7RNEB. CHAPTER II.?(Continned). Gwendoline said bnt little notil they reached a shady spot at seme distance from the summer-house. Here 6he paused, and, without any preliminaries, related to him what her father had told her. Noel listened with an interest that quickly deepened into an air of troubled concern. "It is cruel?it is absurd!" he exclaimed, when she had finished. "Why, it has never been the intention that I 6hould occupy Mr. Alworth's desk, and my father knows it. As for my ultimately becoming a partner in the bank, that is a different thing. No, no; my father must have ha.l another reason than ?"? roonitinp lore and lUlO IVi WKf Q ^ 0 ?faithful services. depend upon it." "My fatner mentioned no oilier reason as being given by Mr. Marlowe," Baid Gwendoline. "There must have been one, nevertheless. Trust me, Gwenny, for discovering it before Monday, and inducing him to reconsider this piece of injustice." He grasped both her hands, and epoke so confidently, that she looked up with renewed hope and cheerfulness in her face. "Thank you, Noel, you are so good! yes, I trust you so much that I am already feeling better. Come, shall we not go 1 17 A JaIa vr**11 Vrt D&C&r luur ucamuui aucio niu icg impatient." Gwenny, what do you think of Adele?" be asked. She looked away from him as she answered, unaffectedly: "I think 6he is the most beautifnl and graceful creature I ever 6aw." There was no denying that, when actually under the spell of Adele's beauty, Noel waB wholly unaware that he did not truly love her. Then 6he could fascinate him. and be did notconsider?perhaps he did not even suspsct?the difference in their ages, with the preponderance on the wrong side. But when out of her influence and alone with Gwendoline, he experienced a change of feeling that was as indefinable as it was uncomfortable. "Every one says that; I know her beauty is indisputable," said he, a little pettishly. "But what do you think of my engagement with her?" Country-bred as she was, Miss Alworth was not childishly transparent. Search them as he would, the clear eyes which she turned upon him were expressive of nothing but surprise. "Why, Noel, what else should I think r than to congratulate you?" said she. "I feel quite sure that you should considei yourself most fortunate." And then she moved away. Noel bit his lip. He had vaguely hop^d that she would in some way manifest a regret. "At all events," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear, as he followed her _i *1 -T ?;il h* atiUJUg blic pat 111 X UV^/o U?j ahvuvi nut ww stistieJ after the settlements are signed. He had left me no peace. And if I have loved Adele at all, it was only after he had arranged the match with Boncourt.* ' Gwendoline affected not to hear. She / could not but have contempt for man or woman?especially a man?who would consent to marry without love; and she did not wish to be contemptuous of Noel Marlowe. They found Adele awaiting their return. apparently in good-humor. But before 6he had time to complete some merry bantering remarks, voices were heard approaching. Gwendoline would have bartied away ?t once, but juBt then Mr. Marlowe made his appearance at the door of the summer-house, accompanied by a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman, and followed at a sort of dog-trot by a tbick> Bet, slovenly attired, bow-legged little old man, whose chief facial characteristics were a pair of deep-set, glittering green eyes, and an enormous, almost toothless mouth. Mr- Mnrlowe's companion was Monsieur Boncourt, Adele's brother; his follower was Mr. Croak, the wealthiest and most successful attorney-at-1 iw in Highcombe ?perhaps in all Cornwall. Mr. Marlowe looked disturbed, ns though his interview with one or tbe other of these gentlemen had been not altogether satisfactory. But, as he saw Adele and Noel, he assumed an air of bonhomie, taying: "Come now, my dears; the papers are already awaiting your signatures. You doubtless " His glance at this moment fell upon Miss Alworth, end he came to a dead pause. Then bis face darkened with sucb unmistakable annoyance and dislike that poor Gwendoline stood not upon the order of her going at all, but, after a mut; . tered commonplace or two to Adele, went at once. She breathed freer when ag3in feeling herself alone. But. as she was hastening back to tbe house, she w jb made aware of a series of 6hoit, pad Iiing footsteps following her along tne g'J veled path. She turned to perceive th t she was being v pursued by Mr. Croak. "Stop, Miss Alworth, stop, I beg of you!" he panted, coming up to ber and trying to take her hand. "Something Titally important?a deeply interesting case,! assure you; let i n pieaa 11 on your own merits. Will you let me examine you?I mean, 6peak to you alone, -V.. for a few minutes?" His manner would have amuBed her at another time, but now it somewhat amazed her. "No, sir; I will do nothing of the kind!' she exclaimed, with a decisive ttamp oJ her little foot. She sped away from him, and did not pause until she again stood in her father's presence. She lost no time in telling her fathei what Xoel had promised, and expressing the hope that all would he well. She then asked if Mr. Marlowe hnd assigned Rny other reason for her father's dismissal beyond wanting his place for Noel. "Yes, ye'," said Mr. Alworth, peevishly. "I called after you to tell you, but you scampered off like a colt." "But here I am again," said she, smiling. "What was his other reasonV" "It wan?it -was that Noel bad fallen in love with you, Gwenny, and that?that jou and I had led him on." -What!" She was confronting him, ap pale as ashes, and with blazing eyes. Then the hot blood mantled her faoe and neck, aud the tears came. "Oh, father!" she sobbed; "and yon kept this back from me? Yon permitted me, while knowing this, to crave a boon of Noel?" She sank into a ohair, bnrying her face in her hands. CM A ITER HI. FA THEE AND DAUGHTER. It was gome momentR before the eontrite old gentleman conld make his peace ior the humiliation his weakness had caused, but he succeeded nt last. "It is over now," said Gwendoline.dry; * ..<? fo fVior Via onTA und Ulg iiCl CJVO. A^u?, ~W never keep anything back from me again. Tell tue now;'did Mr. Marlowe say anything else?" "Only one thice more, Gwenny." What was it?" "He said we might have Jasmine Lodge Back : g iin, with all the tare-free happiness we desire, if?m " "Oo on, father. If what?" "If?if yon wonld only consent to nar ly Mr. Croak." Gwen burst into a clear, ringing peal ot fenxhter. " t "wh. bow comical!" she cried; and then. waiving an cdd sort of questioning in tier father's scrutiny, she grew grave. f 'Come, we will forget abont it," she con- ! tinned. "Now, for the romance of the ' forgery in detail. ; But the weak old man had been turning .he Croak suggestion over in his mind ' luring his daughter's absence. ' "nciu on, uweunyr 6aia ne. ponder- ' jjgly. x;o2t iet*? it; off the "handle. Did you ever think how miserably, ab- ' lectly poor we are. my dear? And then ! Croak, to be sure, is no loiiger young, and 1 le's a bachelor, and they do say that old 1 Dacbelors, as a rule, make doting hus- , )and9. Besides " "Father, stop!" ; She was standing beside him with flash- j " eye6 and buroine cheeks: though the lilusn who vruoiiy ior nun, nor ior berself. ' "Indeed, indeed I didn't mean it!" J itammered the old man. "Forgive me the ! mercenary thought, Gwenny! I am so iistressed, so broken down!" "Poor papa! Of course, you were only 1 loking. There, there; think no more of | it, and go on with your promised story." | After a long pause Mr. Alworth seemed 0 collect himself for the required effort , of narrative and condensation. I "It was a year after your mother's | ieath, my dear," Baid he, slowly, "and rou were consequently but a twelve- j month old, when I concluded to retire , from the firm of Alworth, Marlowe & Co., of which I was the senior partner. ( 1 was then living at Jasmine Lodge, with ( qo servants but my gardener aud your | good nurse, Madge Riggs. Jasper Marlowe, the junior member, and Mr. Gilbert | Marlowe's cousin, was a good-natured, | careless fellow, completely under his j relative's domination. Gilbert lived, as ( qow, in this house, with hie little boy . Noel, and troops of servants. The child's mother had died shortly before of neglect and a broken heart. Gilbert, before ' marrying, had been engaged to Harriet Loop", one of the sweetest girls of Hithe, 1 but suddenly left penniless by her 1 father's death. Then Gilbert had summarily jilted her, to marry the richer rirl, who become the mother of his child 1 before being driven underground by Gilbert's brutal treatment. Harriet Loop 1 disappeared. Broken-hearted by her un- 1 worthy lover's treachery, she vanished j from her native place, and is, perhaps, loiuz sincje dead." . 1 T r\r\r\ In Citron fin JL UV/i AiniiiVi uvv^. v ? line. "You mny well say that, my child. A nard, hard"need woman! Well, we had j all been in the matrimonial mood at | aearly the same time. Jasper married a , fine, spirited young London work-woman. With their one child. Cuthbeit, about the same ago as the little Noel, they lived | in the pretty cottage now occupied" by its , Dwner, Lawyer Croak. Such was the | family statue all around at the time 1 j *peak"of. It was only disturbed onoe by a fierce quarrel between Jasper and Gilbert, by reason of the latter, by that time , a widower, trying to muke love to his t cousin's wife, and getting caught in the attempt." Gwendoline looked shocked and indignant. What An abominable man Mr. Mar lowe must have been in those days," said ?be"To be sure, to be eure; but not a patching to what he is now, I'm thinkinsr. Ho was only recklessly bad then, now he is deliberately bad. But Gilbert made apologies, the quarrel soou ended, and he once more resumed his ascendency over Jasper. Well, I had long been ?pp*rehensive of Gilbert's mad private | speculations involving the firm, and had | before this announoed my Intention to , withdraw. Little by little I had taken Dut my original investment, and my share of the shrunken profits. "At last I had my entire fortune, ex:lusive of six hundred and fifty pounds | ret in the partnership, deposited with i Soundman & Goldberg, a popular London banking firm. I had always made mj deposits through the agency of Mr. j Croak, whose business often called him j to London, and in whom I had the most implicit trust. My business was about ( wound up with the Marlowes, when I one \ day announced to Mr. Croak my inten- | iion of drawing out my entire funds from , Soundman & Goldberg's hande,eighteen j thousand pounds, for the purpose of in- | resting them in American railroad se- i suritiee, and requested him to accom- < pany me to London for the purpose of | identifying me at the bank. ?" J ' -i --A no buiu uv luuiu mil gu uuuot", ?ui | . would .give me a letter to Mr. JameE Hartwell, a prominent London barrister, who would identify me at the bank. He i would have the letter ready for me tc j catch the 11 o'clock train on the following day. When T called the next day he i had already written the letter, but it had | been stolen out of his desk. A forger | had got possession of it, hastened to | London twelve hours in advance of me. | presented his forged draft, secured Mr. Hartwell's identification, and made oi! with my ?18,000. That was the gist of it, ' Gweuny. I was already beggared." "Beggared! You could do nothing?" 1 "Nothing of any avail, my child. With I a duplicate letter to Mr. Hartwell, I rushed to London, but the ruin had beeD to cloverlv wroueht that the banistei ' sould do but little formo. He could cnlv furuish a description of the forger, who 1 bad doubtless been disguised when personating me, aud that availed nothing. The bank had paid the money, and it wae 1 gone!" "But the bank was responsible," broke in Gwendoline. i "Yes; but bankrupt. It had suspended 1 3n the morning of my arrival in London. 1 md neither Soundman nor Goldberg has ;ver been worth a guinea since. The lorger was just on time; I was a day too 1 late!" "Through Mr. Croak's delay with the | ' letter of identification you asked for?" "Precisely." Tiie old man paused, bnryiiig his face in his hands. "But go on. do go on, father!" ex- 8 :laimed Gwendoline, now wrought up to t high pitch of oxcitement. "Surely iherfc'6 much more to be told." CHATTER IV. 1' KR. ALWORTH FINISHES HIB STOF.T. 6 "When I returned home, crushed nnc . broken, from London," continued Mr. A.lworth, feebly, "Croak and the Mar- . lowes at first pretended the utmost gym- pathy. "A week after the forgery, Jasper Marlowe was suddenly missing. He did noi < return. The rumor spread that he hac , deserted his wife and child. I did no: J believe it at lire*. It seemed whollv unlike Jasper. But one evening Gilbert ' Marlowe came to me at Jasmine Lodge, saying, 'Jasper was the rascal who got 5 away with your money, Alworth; he con- ' fessel it tc me, and is now beyond th? f seas, with my assistance.' " ' Gwendoline looked astounded. "Yes, my child, such was Gilbert'* cold-blooded announcement. He went j on to say that Jasper had confessed to using my money in paying horse-racing ' debts. Theu Gilbert added: 'But I don't I know anything about your money. ] only came to say that I will henceforth ! "ow l.noinaoo a# fViA firm o 1 nno ' and to assure von that the proud old nam? of Marlowe is still, publicly, untarnished.' I tried to strike him, but mj head suddenly left me, and I swooned iwav. I wa9 carried to bed, and remained unconscious for or.e week with brniu fever. They pulled me through, after a fashion. When at last?broken down and with the sad realization that I could never again be, mentally and volitionally, the man I Liu been?when at iast I was slowly convalescing my physical health. I was v sited by Lawyer Croak. "His manner toward me was chjineed to * harsh an (I peremptory one. TTe~aftBked tne if I vas prepared to meet the mortgage of six hundred pounds, which be held on Tasmine Lodge, and which would fall rtne on the following day. I felt that J sLou'.d die if compelled to give rp no ueautiiul flower-girt cot^ " r. \ "So I told him yes; that six hundred ] ind fifty pounds of mine were still in Gil- j >ert Marlowe's hands. I would obtain he money on the following day, and lift he incumbrance. " 'You are out in your reckoning,'he ;neered. ' Mr. Marlowe hag been looking >ver the old firm's accounts, and snys here has been a mistaken computation? hat, in fact, instead of his owing you, r'ou are slightly in his d6bt. Look sharp, ^.lworth, for if you don't have my money or me in time I shall certainly foreclose md sell you out.' * "Thenhe went awny, leaving me stupeied and all bat distracted. Weak ns 1 vas, I managed to get dre6sed, and at mce sought Gilbert Marlowe at the bank. . will not recall the miserable interne* hat ensued. It ended by him showing ne the books, and in some way making >ut that Croak had spoken truly?in hii forcing me to sign an agreement turning >ver tne entire rickety concern to him, ind his offer to engage me thenceforth is his head clerk, at a salary barely inf. icient to keep body and soul together, jut accompanied by the permission tc jccupy his garrets there gratuitously, with you ana your nurse. Then began the ill-paid servitude, which Marlowe *oo Viimcolf dincnlvad to-dav. "On the following day, trna to hia threat. Croak foreclosed, and had Jasmine Lodge put nnder the hammer. With Its two acres, it was well worth five timet the face of his claim, but. by his devilish shicanery, he managed to buy it himself for eve hunfiroasau eighty pounds, since then it has trebled in real value, and h< a as made a small fortune in letting it, furnished, to seaside sojourners; this Boncourt and his sister being the ninth >r tenth careless tenants that have occupied it. "I bronght you here with Mrs. Biggs is our housekeeper. You weie eleven rears old when she died. Since then, mj ihild, I have been your care, rather than is it should have been?God help me!" Gwendoline embraced him tenderly. *But there is still more to be told,* >&id 6he. 'More of the family history." "Ah, I understand. Well, Gilbert al 5Dce tried to ingratiate himself with the 1 rru? 1 Uil? ????;?? XT^al leBCITea W1JLU. JL uo uuic m\jU51UO, Aiuoi Mid Cuthbert, became inseparable. They were of about the same age, and strikingly resembled each other. "But Inabel Marlowe would never gel >ver her dislike for Gilbert. Even when the news came of her recreant husband's ieath a year after his flight, she repulsed Gilbert even more decidedly than before, though he had recouped his fortune, and would gladly have married her. "I thick she would even have left High:ombe in anger, to escape his importunities, but that, about this time, both chiliren fell ill of scarlet fever. Mrs. Marlowe, on the doctor's advioe, took them to Penzance, accompanied by a nurse. They grew worse, and Gilbert hurried ifter them, The next news was that Cuthbert had died, while Noel wa6 recovering. "This was the truth. There was a sorrowful return, with but one live child, tnd the other a corpse. "One would have thought that the loss she had sustained would have granted hei at least a brief respite from the pressure af Gilbert's unwelcome suit. But it was aot eo. He continued to urge it so passionately, so persistently, that at last he drove her away. "find Hftv ?h? disanneared from he> cottage. It was supposed that she had gone back to London, bat she has never sinoe been seen. Gilbert, who was wellnigh maddened by her flight, lavished time, money, and patience in prosecuting the search for her. but in vain. "Then Miss "Winford appeared, with recommendations. She was engaged to look after Noel and the household, and has been here ever since. That is the whole story, my child." After a long pause, Gwendoline asked: "How did Mr. Marlowe manage to reinstate the business here, father, after it bad become eo run down?" "His habits changed, for one thing. He grew cautiouB, shrewd, abstemious and far-seeing. Then, in less than a year af. ter my misfortune, he borrowed a large sum from Mar. -Croak, which ho at once invested in the business to great advantage. Oddly enough, the loan he effected lorTesponded precisely in amount with what had been stolen from me?eighteen thousand pounds." "Strange! Why, fatlker, I should say it was!" The old man laughed bitterly. "Gilbert Marlowe culled it a chance soincidence." said he. "Well, well; pertiaps it was." Gwendoline knitted her pretty brow? in thought. Then, perceiving her father's despondency returning, she began tc ixriatia ...Vmnf thn nlacfl in eome Light housewifely duties,"humming <t cbetrful lir. Presently, again taking her hat from Is peg, she laughingly placed an open jook in hor father's lap, and announced tier intention of quitting him o~ce more :or a short time. He looked up inquiringly. "I shall only ran down to the shore tc see Aunt Joan," she explained, smiling. 'It yet wants two hoars to t6a-timc. You will be a dear, good papa till I come lack, won't you?" "Oh, I 6ha'nt go a>>vay," be 6ighed, ai she kissed him and disappeared. Ten minutes later, nhen Mr. Alwortfc was debating as to whether some one had just knocked at the doo'* ~>r not, ho wa? slightly startled by perceiving the stout, thick ivy vinos just outside the dormc-i window pulled down with a sudden jork Ha rubbed his spectacles and locked at tLe ivy curiously. He remembered that a little boy had cnce climbed to the top of the roof b} that moans and been soundly thrashed by Mr. Marlowe for the trespass. Then the thought of thieves entered his mind, but withoci causing him aauch disquiet, o secure did he feel in his own destituLon. rhen, were his old eyes playing him al6e, or was that a face?a bronzed and carded face, eager and inquisitive? ooking in at him from the bushing greenT it was gone in an instant, even if it had >een there at all. Tben rubbing hie glasses again, he urned his head, to perceive Miss \Vinord, who had already entered, and closed he door behind her. "My kno:k was not answered," said she, so I made bold to think you in a doze. came to Bay, Mr. Alworth, that I saw a ;trange man lurking in the garden. But 'on look startled, sir." "Man lurking in the garden, eh? Bless ue, Miss "Winford! and a man's face was u?t peering in at me from there;" and he jointed excitedly at the ivy. "That is, I bink there was. A wild, a lost face?a 'ace that seemed to recall old memories!" "Oh, Mr. Alworth! are you sure?" exclaimed the housekeeper, clasping her linds; and yet her manner expressed ather annoyance than alarm. "Hardly possible, I think." He.e a paper, weighted with a pebMe, *ame in at the same window, dropping ightly at Miss Winford's feet. "Eh? What was that?" said the old penlleman, bestirring himself, and rubbing ais glasses afresh. "Didn't something 8y into the room just f heu?" "A Ivrnfcftn lenf nfirlmna." said the housekeeper, placidly. "There is a high lea-wind to-day." As she spoke she hid the missive with tier skirt, and presently secured it nnperceived. This, too. thonehshe had seen more than the flight of tile piiper; even the swift vani6hiug of the hand that had thrown it. "Yon must hnve leoT mistaken about ibe face in the ivy, sir," said she, quietly advancing to the wiudow and learint.' >ut, during which 6he detached the paper from its weight and read some wortls scrawled upon it. "Yes," she continued, Irawing hack, "it was all fancy on your part, s r. A mas might crawl qp between * \ 5 t i the wall and the vines, wlinout lieiag perceived from the gnrden, but it would be a feat of exceptional agility. I ain Bare yon may only have thought you saw a face here." "Very likely, very likely, Miss Wit/ord," said the old man, returning to his book, and already forgetting the subject. "Ah, this is a precarious world, Miss Winford!" She stood looking at him irresolutely. She liked the old man and his daughter, and with far more cause for doing so than either of them could have ajy idea of. Should she now say what she had come to say?merely to warn of the lurking stranger's presence, and to tell the Alworths to mnnifest no alarm thereat, bnt even to keep the knowledge of it a secret?and what this air-borne missive, addressed to the old man himself, had rendered doubly significant. "No," she muttered to herself, atter a pitying study of the bowed and venerable I "Tho Rpp.ret were hardlv safe in his keeping, much as it might inspirit his wronged and suffering heart. Gwendoline to be sure, is discreet. But no; better let them be hopeless till hope is assured." There was a knosK at tne door, and sjio slipped out behind Mr. Croak just as that unique individual was bowing himself into the room. The words scrawled upon the mysterious missive, which Misa "Winford had decided to withhold from the person foi whom it was intended, were these: "Old and Dear Friend: Bea'- your crosa with patience lor yet a little while; the duy of earthly reckoning is almost at band. "The Dead Alive." [to be continued.] Dial Tricks and Catches. Did you ever try to call off the numerals on the face of your -watch without looking at it? If not you will be surprised to learn how difficult it is to do it correctly. The other night a gentleman, under the inspiration of a modest wagei made by a friend, attempted the feat. This was the result of his efforts: /0< "First," he said, "there is one IM TT fnrA* TTT tVirpp TV.. UL1C ) tv> U XI y fcnw, kUivv f - . - y four; V,, five; VI., six; VII., seven; VIII., eight; IX., nine; X., ten; XI., eleven, and XII., twelve. There, what's the matter with that?" "Nothing," was the rejoiaef, "except that yon are not only wrong, but very far from being right. Look at your watch and satisfy yourself." Out came the timepiece and thia is the way it looked: "Well, I declare," he exclaimed, "that is a revelation to me. Why, I thought there were only Roman numerals to indicate the hours, and the fact that there were second hands on the face never entered my head, that little dial, of course, wiping out the VI., which I thought was there. Yes, I lost the money squarely." "THE CHARMED CIRCLE." One of the most simple yet puzzling tricks which may be illustriattd by the same figures is called "The Charmed Circle." It is sometimes known as "The Mind Reader." All the paraphernalia required is a sheet of paper and a pencil. On the paper make a circle of figures from one to twelve. The trick is to tell any number in the circle thought of by another person. This is how it is done: After a number has been selected by your friend, ask him to add one to it when you strike the paper- Then you continue striking and be the couuting until twenty is reached. Then you will be on the number he has chosen. Care must betaken, however,in hitting the figures to be sure that on the eighth stroke you touch twelve, and then move around the circle to the left, tauching each number in regular order. It is an unfailing source of mystifying amusement. It can be made more confusing by distributing the first seven strokes around the circle promiscuously, but do not fail to touch twelve on the eighth and proceed as directed.?New York Herald. The Oldest White Man. The olde3t white man, probably, in | the United States whose age can be | clearly authenticated, is Eli Gray, who 1 resides at Roxbury, Delaware County, j N. Y. The records in the Town Clerk's office at Weston, Fairfield County,Coun., attest the fact that Mr. Gray was born in that town on December 16, 1785, and I ? . Li 1 Vnvlr wnue yei a youiu reuuvcu w State. Jay Gould's father was the first male child born in the town of Roxbury. Mr. Gray says he remembers the date of the occurrence, October c?, 1792, and he was intimate with the family until past middle age. Mr. Gray's mother, as is also shown by the town records of "Weston, lived to be 120 yef.rs old. A half century of Gray's life was spent on the Gould homestead, near Roxbury. Gray was small in stature during his prime, but was wiry and "nervy." lie is the father of two children. His wife died a lew years ago in the Delaware County Poor House. At the age of forty Mr. Gray adopted the course of "squatting" upon unoccupied land, and he took an active part in the anti-rent troubles of 1812. Going into the woods he would select a pleasant location, erect a log cabin and live there as loug as he could do so without paying rent. The ruins of several of these cabins can now be seen. Mr. Gray lives in a little hut near Roxbury and, though failing mentally and physically, can still give many reminiscences of olden times. The town of Roxbury appropriates $364 yearly for his care and maintenance, jay vjrouiu oeui. Gray a Christmas present of $50 last year and takes considerable interest in the old man's welfare.?St. Louis litpublic. Red and White Ash Coal. Very few householders know anything about the respectiv qualities of red asb and white ash coal. In many small cities white ash is all that can be had. ' ? * - 1 1 for range use, nowever, a goou reu usu coal gives out more heat and i9 more economical than anything else. Thf cook does not like it so well if she is in clined to be indolent, because it doe.? hot burn up so rapidly as white ash coal, and cannot be started 60 quickly; but when it is once started and burning it* lasting powers are surprising.?New York p Tribune, 1 ! A TOST TRIBE. U M. v IS-'* ? ?? ? GIANT INDIANS THAT INHABIT AN ISLAND NEAR MEXICO. Believed to be Man-Katers?Intruders Killed With Poisoned Arrows ?Older Than the Aztecs, but Now Becoming Extinct. "There arc 174 giant cannibals, men and women, living on Seri Island, in the Gulf of California, and not sixty miles from the mainland of Mexico," said George G. McNamara to a San Francisco Examiner reporter at the Palace Hotel. "What I say might seem ridiculous, but it is nevertheless a fact, for I have seen some of them during my travels in lfP|i 1 fIStSt ft V JLSERI ISLANDER?OVER SEVEN FEET HIGH Mexico. "Who their ancestors were or how long they have occupied the island is not known, but they are now becoming extinct. "I saw three women and one man and their appearance and manners gave me the impression that they are brutes by nature and brutes in heart and soul. It was just by chance that I saw them, as few of them venture away irom tne island except to sell the mats and shawls which they make from the skins and feathers of the albatross. They are cunning thieves, but otherwise their minds are dull?in fact they seem stupefied. They have a vacant stare in their eyes, and, when not serious, an idiotic smile spreads over their faces. "The island of Seri is about twenty miles long and at places ten miles wide, and I was told no Mexican or white man ever ventures near or attempts to land on it, as they claim the island is their domain and shoot the intruders with poisoned arrows or capture and eat them. They exist on fish and goat meat, which are plentiful. Low houses, built of shrubbery, arc their abode. Some live in 'dugouts,' or caves cut into banks. They roam about the island and lead the laziest life of any people that I have ever heard of. No one can really tell what their daily routine of living is, but it is a fact that the tribe is dying out, and it will not be many years before they will become extinct. mrwlfi rtf hiirinl is not known. but it was estimated that where there are now a handful there were several thousand not ten years ago, and if they bury the dead and do not burn the bodies, as cannibals do, the bones of their enormous frames -will cover a large area of the island. "The man I photographed is over seven feet in height. His face was a study when he saw the lens pointed at him, and he could not understand what was being done. He, as is all his race, was superstitious, but we overcame that obstacle by giving him a present of an old pair of trousers, which he immediately tied around his neck. The gentleman standing next to him is about six feet tall and he had to hold the Indian's hand. An old rag encircled the upper portion of the Indian's limbs, and it was tied around the waist. The blanket is made of albatross skin and feathers. The bow and arrows which he holds is the only weapon they know of or use. His legs from the knee down are not covered. The hat he wears is of straw, and he, as fTP A WOMAN OF THE SEHI ISLAND INDIANS, be stands there, is the typical Seri Indian. "The women _ wear patched dresses made of cloth, which they receive for albatross mats ar.d shawls. They are wrinkled and old, very few girls being among the tribe. The bowls on their heads contain broken vessels made of clay. "They are a wonderful people," continued Mr. McNumara, "and no doubt their past history, if revealed, will bring to light facts that relate to the magnificent reign of the Montezamas, or even far beyond the time of Cortez. In regard to his visit to the Mexican mines, he said: "I left Fort Towiiscnd enrly in December, and after traveling iu various States in Mexico, I arrived at Hei mosillo. I left there on January 10, ot horsphnrk with five natives. "We traveled by trail to Soyopa, a distance ol 140 miles from there to liacanora. through Ariveche, which is the lasi civilized town on the road. The conn try we entered is uninhabited; then was no trail to guide us, and we reachec the much-talked-of mythical mines by ni indirect route of about 125 miles. Tht mines were worked by the old Father} or Jesuits from Spain and the Yaqui anc ! ' : ;-.f ? yz-, ' - r Mayo Indian slaves up in 1820, whei ] the Apaches "who lived in Chihuahut came and massacred all that di<J not escape. The country immediately round about is beautiful?low hills inside i basin something the shape of a saucer? with high mountains on all sides. Th? priests in those days only worked ort which paid 8100 a ton or more, so "th< people that were with me said, and bas< metal was not mined. "There is lots of land to be got then just for the asking. I went down ther< in the interest of a large company anc brought up some specimens of ore They are mostly copper plance and a: yet I do not know wnat tlie specimens will assay." The Richest Man in Inner Africa. We present here the latest poitrait ol the great Central African, Tippu Tib. Tippu Tib will soon be in Arabia again, his birth place, for he is a native of Mus cat. He is on the way to revisit thi land of his fathers. He was the son o a half-caste Arab, and his mother -was t full-blooded negro slave. In point of ancestry, therefore, many of the Arabs whom he has controlled as a master does a slave, look down upon him. He is the man described by Cameron as an African dandy, and of whom Stanley said that he was the finest gentleman he had ever met in Africa. Bj pure intellectual superiority Tippu Tib, after he went to the lake regions as s trader, gradually gained the supremacy over all other traders, until a large tract ? ?L?i:? t-? or country, exieuuiug num uiu^ugu, uu the Upper Congo, to Stanley Falls, acknowledged him as its ruler. He has supreme influence over all the Arabs iD the district he governs, and if so dis? posed he can be of much assistance to the Congo Free State in its efforts to mppress slave raids. For several years he lived at Stanley Falls, where he accumulated an immense quantity of ivory, much of which has TIPPU TIB. been taken to the coast by caravans ol 1000 to 3000 men. His home, however, is at Kassongo. At Stanley Falls h( lives in a mean little hut, apparentlj caring nothing for its discomforts,though he is rich enough, if he chose, to live ir one of the finest houses in Zanzibar. Gleerop, the Swede, who crossed Africa a while ago, visited Kassongo and reported that Tippu Tib's dwelling then was a fine stone nansion, which would compare favorably with any private res* deuce in Zanzibar. | Though in his dealings with whit< men he has been courteous, obliging anc generally faithful, Tippu Tib in the pasi has caused an enormous amount of suffer ing to the helpless natives of Centra ' Africa. He has made slaves of thousandi of them, and this has involved the de struction of many villages and the slaugh ter of many helpless natives. No oni supposes that he is actuated by anj motive thau that of self-interest. I He has now agreed to stop slave raid ing in the territory he controls, only be cause he s )es that it is his interest to d< so. He is a very shrewn man, and find ing it useless to oppose the advance o.' |the whites, he has decided to co-operat? with them, knowing that it is to theii advantage to give him abundant opportunity to carry on his trading enterprises I It is hoped that this able man, who L by far the richest person in inner Africa may be made a valuable agent in cariying on the civilizing work now in pro gre3s on the Upper Congo and in th< lake regions.?New York journal. Seen on a Late Train. I. ' She?"George, just turn that seat in front of us over, and we'll have more room." II. He?"It works mighty hard?it must be locked." m. Gentleman who had been occupying scat?"No, by gosh, it ain't locked I"? Munsey's Weekly. I?iceis not indigenous to America, but was early introduced from Europe. It is supposed to be a native of India, where it is the principal food of the inhabitants. It thrives only in moist or very wet soils, and in dry seasous the crop often fails :uid leads to famines in jountries where the people depend upoc thii grain for food. There arc still tribes of Indiaus in Mexico which believe in witchcraft, and the other week a woman was killed because it was contended that she drove ihe sun over into the United States and filled up the space with rain. A Shreveport (La.) beet of the blood red variety weighs forty-six pounds. It ?rew on Silver Lake soil. - - ... - "CONFLAGRATIONS. " 1 THE GREATEST FIRES OF A?J C1ENT AND MODEKN TIMES. Destruction of Big Libraries in Alex*1 andria?How Constantinople and Ancient Rome Suffered?Amer- y ica's Noted Burnings. Among the great fires of history, uo-< doubtedly the burning of the Serapaeuna library at Alexandria, in the year 640,bjj the Caliph Omar I., is most wideljn V mnnmpd. as the destruction of 500,000) volumes cut off much of the record ofi human knowledge at that time. The general impression of the importance and significance of this fire is, no donbt, augmented in great measure by thai alleged answer of this Saracen conqueror,! -J who applied to the protest against the! I burning with: "If these books arej ' against the Koran, they are pernicious) 1 and must be destroyed. If they agree with the Koran, they are redundant ana need not be preservedand it is noo \ generally remembered that Julius Cas^ajq burned a larger library of 700,00u volumes at Alexandria, known as th< Brucian library, B. C. 48, nearly 700 b?| fore the burning of the Serapseum v; library by Omar I. , ^ At times of sack and pillage, Jerusalem i has been burned time and again; thq j most noted instance being at the aieg? \ by the Romans under Titu3, during th< year 70, when a faction called thi 1 Sicarii set the city on fire in many placesJ and eventually 1,100,000 of the in *J habitants perished by fire and tM J sword. Constantinople has, like all Oriental cities, suffered severely from fires,a largo part of such losses being "undoubted^ due to the fatalism of the Mohammedan!; who bow to their kismet. Said a Sultan i 'If it be the will of Allah that my favor-i ite city burn, it is the will of Allah." 1 A great fire at Home, 12 B. C., caused < the Emperor Augustus to take measured - ' for increasing the defense against fire, which had been hitherto in the iiands ol bodies of police, numbering twenty orthirty, stationed in various parts of the city, and re-enforced at times of fires bj f companies of volunteers. He appointed new officers with the rank of magistrates, who were entitled to wear magisterial robes. Each was attended by two lio-i ,tors, and provided with a fire organise tion of 600 slaves. It is probable that this was not entirely satisfactory in itf operation, because six years later anotheq fire caused him to undertake further reforms on a scale fully characteristic ol i him who "found the city built of brick and left it with palaces of marble." H< increased the fire department to a scali i commensurate with the needs of the city. Seven thousand freemen were organized i into seven battalions, and one battalion i was quartered in ever? alternate ward o the city. These men made careful in> t spections of the kitchens, of the heating I apparatus and of the water supply in the houses, and every fire was the subject otf I judicial examination. The cost of thej organization was maintained by a tax oft twenty-five per cent, on the sale of! slaves. 1'-^ ! Two notable examples of contagions I stopped by conflagrations are the burnj ing of Moscow by the be* ieging Tartars,} ' in July, 1570,. when the plague was : Btnnned. and secondly the fire in Lon-j I ?-f r ? ?J ? don, September 2, 1666, which also! stopped the plague, and it has been unknown there since. This London fire I is properly called there the great fire ot modern history, because tho reforms which were started in consequence of it are living issues ia the municipal affaini of to-day. The fire was caused by an overheated baker's oven; and in the course of four days it swept over 436^ acres, burning 13,200 houses, 89! churches and St. Paul's Cathedral, caus-j ' ing a damage estimated to be ?10,716,-' 000, say $53,500,000. Under the di-' rection of Pepys the fire was stopped bjj blowing up buildings, which was, at the; time, the only method of reducing a fire that had grown beyond the capacity the small fire engines. These were onf large tubs, and threw a stream of wateij directly on the fire, as hose wa3 not invented until ten years later (1672) by Van der Heide. j The firs: devastating fire in America, was probably the one occurring at Bos-? ton, March 20, 1760, when 400 dwellings and stores were burned, causing % loss of ?100,000. Philadelphia has been remarkably free from conflagrations in comparison witlx other large cities. It docs not appear t<> have been visited by a great fire until July 9,1850, when a fire along the Delaware River front, at Vine street, extend-' ing over eighteen acres, caused a lens of life estimated as high as'thirty-three, in addition to 120 wounded, and a pecuni-: ary loss of $1,500,000. New York was visited by a severe conflagration in the southern part of the city on December 16, 1835, which extended over an area of forty acres, de-^ stroyed 674 houses, and causing a loss which has been estimated as high ag $30,000,000, on which there was only $8,000,000 insurance?an amount which ruined several insurance companies. > One of the first of the more recent con-i flagrations was the burning of Portland, Me., July 4, 1866. The fire was caused by a boy throwing a firecracker into a cooper's shop for the avowed purpose of scaring the workmen. In thi3 respect the act was an unparalleled success, the damage being about $10,000,000. The Chicago fire, October 9, 1871, wa^ one of the largest in all history, devastat. ing an area ot three and a half square miles, and causing a loss of about $190,? 000,000, on which insurance was paid to the amount of $100,000,000. Twc hundred and fifty live9 were reported lost in tms nre. Thirteen months later to a day, Boston was visited by a fire which extended orei an area of sirty-five acies, burning th< best mercantile buildings in the city, and causing a damage of $75,000,000, on which there was an insurance to ovex $65,000,000.?Scientific American. Qneen Victoria Is Superstitious. It is interesting to note that Queen Victoria openly avows that she is not "above" believing in certain omens, as is shown by Di. Xrause, who quotes from a passage iu the Weiner All/jtmeine Ztitunq. By command of Queen Victoria, Mr. Martin, director of the Institute for the Blind, has attended to the making a cradle for the newly born child of Princess Beatrice, of Battenberg. The cradlcl is to be made entirely by blind men and women. Tne Queen firmly believes that objects made by blind people bring luck.