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* 1 \ U % v THE BANKERS CRM; OB Diamond Cut Diamond. gfc.< BY NATHAN D. URNEB. K-VII ' CHAPTER V. THE BBOTHEB OF ADELE, R. GILBERT ^y eighteen years' faith^ sooner left the bank (' 'GV''* ?r aione in nis oince -}j \ than the latter rub>p bed hi8 hands exultA" / ingly, and evinced fsj hie self-satisfaction J \ by a number of half*V an^^ble expressions, N In as he continued to ro Pace to and fro. Ijl 3j) "A good riddance!" UifL he chuckled. "By Jovel the old fellow's presence has been a sort of constant reproach, not to 'e mj possible menace, to me for years?a y sort of death's head at my golden ban|L fuet, as it were?and now I shall be rid z him for good. I begin to breathe ' freer already. Wonder if he'll act up to that hint I gave him about his daughter and old Croak. He's a fool if he doesn't. Sow to examine the old fellow's ac- j f oonnts!" And, passing Into a middle I ??3 aompartment, he drew ont the heavy J books, opened, and began to examine them, while mattering to himself. i A few moments hit or, however, there tu the sound of a door being opened ( and shut, followed by steps in the narrow | passage at the side of the windowed and paneled partition, and then a smart rap on the rear-office door. i "There they are!" thought the banker, aheerfully responding to the gnmmons; kot, as he opened the door, Mr. Boncourt alone entered. | "Glad to see yon, Boncourt," said Mr. V Marlowe, shaking hands, and signing the owcomerto a seat at a large, round, paper-littered center table, that stood > opposite to the vault. "Where's Adele?" i She's in the garden with Noel," said i *- Mr. Boncourt, removing a glossy silk fcat, seating himself with an easy, assured ir. and slowly peeling from his white, Vomanish hands the elegant kid gloves, without which he never walked abroad. jj| *1 told them would summon them vhen everything was* in readiness, Mr. i B?> Marlove." l; Unlike his Bister, he spoKe witn a sngnii 1y foreign aceent, but his features bore a strong ramily resemblance to hers, though east in a heavier, stronger mold. This is tantamount to saying that he 'was handsome, the only other difference beinj; that his complexion, unlike hers, was the mver6o of fair. But his face was absoC ' lately impenetrable, and he hod eyes, a mustache. and 6hort, curling hair that ffij^ were as black as night. HiB dress was so faultier ns to suggest '*' the handiwork of an American tailor, and the impression was somehow afforded that the slender, flexible proportions, so admirably clothed, might possess on occasion unexpected strength and activity. i:< In years, he might have been anywhere between forty-five and fifty-five. Mr. Marlowe looked a little surprised. "Why, everything is in readiness," said be. "I can 6end a servant to Croak's . fflce and hr.ve him here iu a jiffy." "But it's necessary that I should interview you first, as the Americans say," i C' : Mid Mr. Boncourt,1 placidly. "It refers i to the amount of the settlements, you i |wp". hnow." I Mr. Marlowe looked annoypd. "This was agreed upon "between us," Mid be, Kith some stillness. m- -True." \ "And I was to settle ten thousand . pounds on my son; while you, in cousidorstiou of the marriage affording you en ?Ifranre into mv son's social spherewere to settle twice us much on your sisals kei-" 1 Mr. Bonconrt lnnghed amusedly. "Exactly," said he. "How well you state the case!" i 0?.' "Thanks! Well, what now?" ] "1'es^e! it's a mere trifle. I simply find ' that I have been out in my calculations, f I can, in fact, only settle half that amount i on Adele. which will be ten thousand." "I won't listen to it!" exclaimed Mr. Marl ewe, his whole manner hardening. I "Sir, this is a breach of agreement?not f say a breach of faith! such a reduction full moiety! I won't entertain it for < an instant!" ' "Yes, you will." < The tone was lazy, but assured. Mr. Marlowe hesitated in a still angrier re- i ply. Still be was not afraid. "I tell you, I will not, sil:" he contin- J ned. "What! was not the difference in I the settlements more than made up in the advantages held out to you? My son, < Al?4 Jo I JUHW Ui ID aucij VUUV.HCU, w Cil Wryuaected, numbering among his intimates ' Sir Harry "Wilding, Lord Squanderall and other noblemen. Your sister, a widow, much older thnn he, and, in spite of her ' beauty, with no one knows what antecedK ?nts. And yourself " Bonoourt interrupted him with another .good-natured lnugh. accompanied, however, by a sign to silence. 1 "And myself?suppose you !et me speak ' for myself, Marlowe," said he, lightly. "I I ?&n improve on vour style. excellent as it i ,???~-"l??in its way. for myself, then?with no connections whatever; a Frenchman i>y birth, but cosmopolite bv choice; a ft?mbler?blackleg, you would call it in *hifl accursed country?almost from my boyhood; and a determined aspirant?for m rto.nlll.Vc rpftSOTlR to th0S6 Vfil'V ftKKO? dations which ray sister's marriage to ^our son will procure for me. So much for myself. QgWbat of it? It has l.een no secret to yon from the very tirst. I have keen perfectly frank with you. I will be till franker, and avow that my heretofore frankneBS was d'ctated solely by policy. Tirom theSrst you understood my scheme, why did you tako it up?" ' Mt. Marlowe hemmed and hawed witbcnt making a reply. f 'oma: vonr motives for takine ud mv #cbemi while knowing my character?1' "Mr. Boncourt went on, pleasantly. "I will tell yon. Yon merely thought "of the twenty thousand pounds I promised as my sister's dowry. It wns a merceuary un-derhtauding* betweon us; nothing more uor less." Bed in the face, Mr. Marlowe was about to interrupt, when he was motioned to ilence. "A moment more," continued Mr. Boncourt. "You hare alluded to my sister'i same in manner Approximating invidiousness. You plaoed yourself in personal peril wben you did so." h "Sir, sir!" I i . "Be uuieL Of all the world. Mr. Mar- 11 p lowe, my fiBtcr i* tne Bo;e creature l value bo much as a heart-beat. The slightest slur upon her womanly name would at once challenge my resentment. Your son must marrr Adele, not merely because he has successfully wooed her, but chiefly because she has come to love him. A severance would cause her distress; Adele must not be distressed. "Wait yet a moment," he went on, again hindering an attempted interruption. "Adele's past has not been sunny, but I can afford to speak of it as frankly ae of my own. There's nothing like being sure, cf one'6 ground beforehand. You have spoken of her age. That is nothing. She is perhaps ten years your son's senior, but she will pass anywhere for twentythree, and she is in the flower of her superb beauty. You have mentioned her widowhood. But she is not a widow. She is a divorced wife. You start?you Englishmen have stmit>laced|prejudice8 on this score. "Where is the difference? In this instance, at least, it shall avail nothing as an objeciion. Over seventeen years T\~ ago we were in iifuuurmu. uu \uu uiouciate the date with anything peculiar in your own family history? You gave a singular start. But no matter. While there Adele, though a mere girl in years, escaped from my guidance long enough to get married. .Ronceville wasn't the fellow's name, either. He wns a fellowcountryman of yours, and of good birth. I wouldn't have minded his being a gambler, though he was a cheap, poor one, by nc means ornamental to the profession; but he was also a drunkard and a brute. In a few months I took her away from him and kicked him into the street. America is a convenient country for getting rid of bad husbands and worthless wives. She obtained a divorce, but not before her child was born. Three years later, in San Francisco, her little boy was lost in the streets. He has never since been found. That is all of Adele's troubles I need touch upon. I have told you this much for a purpose. I would show you that when your callow son marries A dele he does not marry a foolish girl, but a woman of the world, who, in spite V? flnH hflf an? parent youth, has thought, struggled and suffered profoundly?also a proud, noble an<2 ambitious woman, who can and will Liake a man of him. There you are!" Sir. Marlowe drew a long breath. Stupefaction was his first sensation; to this nad succeeded a sort of wondering admiration for the sublime assurance that had prompted the remarkable avowals he had listened to; and after that he grew sullen and enraged. "So," be cried; "and, with this additional knowledge, you have the unconscionable brass to ask me for an abatement by one-half of what you promised to settle on your 6ister?" "To be sure, Marlowe; I bet on the wrong jockey at yesterday's handicap, to my sorrow. Ten thousand is all I can go, even on Adele." "I tell you, sir, by heaven! I will not listen to it. Indeed, after what you have Baid, I voald not have the match go on in any event. It would stain the Marlowe aame!" "It is stained already, in vour personstained beyond cleansing, clid the world but know it! Come to terms! You are in my power!" i The words were still devoid of harshaesB. but they came out as keen and :? sieeiy as u rupici ^nuuijj nviu a iu>? scabbard. ""What do yon mean?" exclaiced Mr. Marlowe. "You had a cousin?a certain Jasper Marlowe?" "Y-e-s; he is dead." "But think; was he dead, say, seventeen years and a half ago?" "N-n-n-o; I hardly Buppose that he was." " Certainly not. At about that time 1 made his acquaintance. He was fond of dorse-racing; so was I; he fell ill of a malignant fever; in fact, imagined his death approaching. I had done him a signal servioe; in return, he took me into bis confidence. He mentioned?indeed, sxhibited to me?a certain remarkable paper bearing your signature. How do you know that it is not now in my possession?" "Heavens and earth!" gasped the banker, falling back in his chair, with an sishen face. "Come," said Mr. Boncourt, airily rising, and resuming his hat, gloves and cane. "Really, my dear Marlowe, we should not keep Adele and Noel waiting in this way." CHAPTER VI. A. GARDEN PARTY. /*QTrifi in fhrnnoh tlin crnTr^on at the same moment that Mr. Marlowe and Mr. Boncourt were issuing from the Btreet door, for the purpose of 6eeking the affianced lovers. Thus all three proceeded to the summerhouse together, and this led to the meeting, already described, in which Gwendoline Alworth had so markedly attracted the angry notice of Mr. Marlowe, and from which she had so precipitately made her escape. "What brought that girl here?" said Mr. Marlowe, routhly: for he had not wholly recovered tne equanimity so relent ly disturbed. Both Adele and Noel hnd noticed his mm mnerliness toward Gwendoline, and S'oel, especially, with secret mortiflcation. "Can you refer to Miss Alworth, father?" said he. "I presume she was simply consalting her pleasure in being here; wo were by no means averse to her company." "On vhe contrary," said Adele, "I, at east, found her charming. Miss ilworth seems to be as amiable as she is pretty," Mr. Marlowe saw that iJl-temrer wns jut of order, and he had a veritable iveathercock's knack of conforming to a :bange of wind. "I merely feared she might have interrupted something interesting," said he, with a smile. "But come; our business in the office can be expedited, and after that we shall have tea. ' "Why not have it out here in the garien?" suggested Noel. "There's a long table yonder, under the grapevine arbor, which "only needs to be covered ondlaid." "The very thing," said liencourt. Adele clasped her fan delightedly, with both hands. "It will be so agreeable," said she. 'Alphon=e aud I often take tea in the open air at Jasmine Lodcre." "As you choose, then," said Mr. Marlowe, as Adele arose, and took Noel's irm, "The business in the office won't take more than half an hour. You enn apprise Miss Wihford of your plana for supper, as we pass tnrou?n tb? nail. By the way, what can have become of Cronk?" The lawyer had mysteriously taken bisr departure. "He may have swallowed himself," obeawArl T-' rn/^o 11 i r? rr Vin lnn-var'a DCi ?UU * kuv AlA " J VA * chief facial exaggeration. "Our contemplated business, without h'm, 'would be like Hamlet, minus the Dane," s ud Xoel. But at this moment, the lawyer, the cause of whoso disappearance will doubtless be recalled by the reader, cnme in view, down one of the shadier walks. "The deu.-e, Croak! a little more, and Vftn wnnlrl fti-tunllv 1inv? mai^n ns *rnit " 6ai(l Marlowe, peevishly. "A French monarch got off that before you were born," said Croak. "Business is is your sphere, Marlowe; stick to it." "But where have you beeuV" "I've Decn endeavoring," replied croalt, iu a grave, matter-of-fact way, "to make love to Miss Alworth." Allele and Noel burst out laughing, but the banker only smiled thoughtfully, while Bonconrt turned his me^sariUL; look on the misshapen lawyer, with renewed interest. The business of drawing up the settlement papers, and Bigning and attesting tb?m, took n little louger than the banker had predicted. Neither Adele nor Noel paid much attention to their contents, but occupied moat of tbe time with chatting agreeably, while the joung man e*. r r ,'i i;,1i r,r pi am e a tne uses 01 tbe articles of office furniture to her, especially exhibiting the great fire-proof money vault, inside and out, with a good deal of pride. "Why, it's roomy enough for a dungeon in there!" said Ad'ele, when they had come out of the vault, and were standing, apart from the rest, in the narrow passage on which it opened. "Why are the great jron doors hidden away in this cramped place, instead of opening right out on the office? I suppose these rear windows separate us from the conservatory. One might peer throngh them, and know of all the treasure that was being stored away." "But the window-panes, you see, are thickly coated over with paint," said Noel. * "As for the iron doors opening in nrr.tr T vam ftf tVift r?ri a i r> nl tuio " UJ, A ViUi KV1* ? V w V - VMV va object. The vault was built long before 1 was born." The lawyer alone. in drawing up th? forms in accordance with certain amended memoranda handed him by Mr. Marlowe, seemed to remark the dimunition oI the amount settled upon the lady; he had known of the original intention, and, moreover, the change was apparent enough in the banker'^ rough notes, where tha written number "ten" bad been, rather freshly substituted for "twenty" as a prefix to the "thousand." But even he made no verbal comment. He merely looked oddly, first at the banker, who Beduously avoided his scrutiny, and then at Boncourt, who returned the stare with lazy indifference; and then went on with hia writing, with an air of total unconcern. The papers were at la6t executed, and the business at an end. "Did you tell Miss "Winford about tht tea?" Mr. Marlowe a9kfid of No?l, as tha party were quitting the office. "Yes. She promised to have it ready by half-past five, and it is now nearly six, But here is Miss Winford," They were all standing at the entrnnct of the*rear passage, leading through the conservatory. As he epoke, nnd as th?r rest of the party turned in that direction, the housekeeper was seen standing there. She might almost hive stepped out from in amonc the nlants and flower-pots that were crowded directly behind thepaintedover panes of the rear office-window, had a hiding-place been afforded by them, which, however, did not seem possible. MI chanced to overhear Mr. Noel's last words," eaid Mies Winford, with a slight 'courtesy. "Supper will be found awaiting you in thefc grape-vine arbor." "What a shocking disfigurement you? housekeeper has undergone!" whispered Adele toner lover,as the party were pass* ing into the garden. "Yes, poor, dear woman!"replied Noel. "But I can remember her only as from my earliest recollections, and therefore only think of her goodness." At this juncture, a second mysterioug disappearance of the lawyer whs no ed. But even Mr. Marlowe only remarked, this time, that, it Croak did not turn up before the table was cleared, he should go home hungery. They found the table laid in the arbor, ? ?J fV*OT? OUU UiUiC DUUOKUUUQ1 IJ ^lUTiUUUlUi ?mua? had been looked for. The coachman, and a preen grocer's email boy, both freshly white-aproned for the occasion, vera in attendance. There was a more varied and generous accompaniment of wines than had often accorded with the banker's ideas of hospitality. A soft sea wind was cooling the air, after the heat of the day, and the repast was soon agreeably under way. When the dishes were being removed, and fresh wines, with cigars for the gentlemen, brought on, Noel remembered something of interest in the countrv newspaper thit ho wished to read to Adele andBoncourt. "I mast have mislaid it," said he, aftei a vain soarch of his pockets. "Ah, nov.I reir<jmber having laid it on the table iu the nincc. I will run and eet it." "Nevermind, at present.- saia Aaeiu detaining him, by a playful gesture ol her fan. "It is growing too dark for you to read, without straining vonr handsome eyes. See: the fire-flies are beginning to twinkle in the gloom. I want some, mon ami." "Some what?" said Noel, with a puzzled look. "Some fire-flies, to be sure; some fireflies, and flower*, too! quick! catch and cull them for me!" He Baw that she was in earnest, eo, like the dutiful lover that he was, he laugh* ingly arose and was soon chasing through the garden, hat in hand, in jureuit of thi fire-flies. He was presently, however, willing enough to delegate this interesting pastime to the servants, whose nimble eflort? proved much more successful than h'e own, and to turn his own attention to the dower-gathering, exclusively. In a little while Adele had lying on the table before her a heap of pretty blooms, together with a large number of the captured fire-flies, wh:ch she fuither se:ured from instinctive rambling by imprisoning under an inverted wiLe-fllass, after which she gravely proceeded to make use of her acquisitions in a very novel way. "Is there no othcrfairv-like caprice that I can gratify?" cried Noel, laughing. "Shall I not order the walks to be strewn with table-salt, for sleigh-ridirg, as was done for the Pompadour, or some othei favorite, in the royal girdens?" "It is hardly necessary, till I have exhausted this one," she replied, smiling. Meanwhile her delicate finders were busy with the flowers and the fire-flie6, together with numerous t-lender grassspears, which, after moistening or gumming with swoeteiied wine, she utilized in some deft but mysterious way in binding insects and blooms together in fantastic foims, nnd by which the fire-flies were caused to emit their phosphorescent pulsations much more brightly and incessantly than if left to their natural instincts. At last she crowned her fair ha id with a wonderful chapiet of intermingling DowerB and insects, tne latter glittering like veritable gems of fire, andliqhting up tho soft blooms that surrounded them with a clear end starry luster. "How wonderful!" exclaimed Noel, in unaffected admiration, while even the banker grew interested, and Bouconrt looked on with lazy complacency. "Was there ever anything so beautiful? You look like a princess of elfland!" She laughed, and then encircled her throat with a necklace that was in keeping with the wreath, after which she also added flower aud fire-fly bracelets to her wrists, nnd a brooch, or bouquet of the same odd and striking formation, to her breast; the whole effect being rich and novel in a high degree. "It is like an enchantment?a tropical dream!" cried her lover. "Could anything be at the same time so lovely and so outlandish? From what odorous a?d houri-haunted region did you 6natch this accomplishment, Adele?" "From both Mexico and Brazil," she replied, smiling. Then, restiug her elbow on the table, the loose, lnce-frothed Bleeve of solt lawn floating back and down, to the apparently unconscious revelation of tlio gleaming, perfectly-modeled arm, she began fanning herself gently, in a manner tnat c.msea tne twinKimg nttie goiaen disks at wrist, tbrout, breast, and nmwr\ fn flnnh nxul llntttr with redoubled brilliancy. "Ah, but Brazil wan the true paradise for 6uch displays!" she went ou, musingly. "The fire-ily is much larger and more dazzling there?indeed, a regular species of beetle, I think. The ladies, in g.irden parties, even faBtcn them to their necks and shoulders with tiny golden chains, and thus iliey wander in and cut of the folds of lace, with trucks of fire until, at times, one's whole person will Beem to burn with them." At this moment they beard arinpr at the gate, which had been locked, as was the custom at about tbat hour. Une or tee servants Drougui worn a gentleman wished very much to see Mr. Bonconrt, if he could do bo wi.hout in* convenience. 'Did he give his name?" said Bonoourt, without disturbing himeetl "Yes, sir; Captain Rollingstone." Neither the banker nor NoeJ could remember to have heard the name before; while Adele suddenly threw her novel ornaments away, and looked annoyed. "Oh, Eollingstone, indeed?" said Boncourt, studiously abstaining from looking at his sister. "An acquaintance of mine, Mr. Marlowe. Would you object to his joining us here? He must be just up from London, and both thirsty and banned up." Mr. Marlowe had no objection to any friend of Boncourt's, though he himself would presently be obliged to desert the party. So Captain Eollingstone joined the party, was duly introduced, and lealed. He was a placid, carelessly dressed man, the traces of whose original good looks, that might at one time have been considerable, had been almost wholly disfigured by the apparent inroads of long, persistent and hard dissipation. Adele had probably met him before, and her only recognition now was a freezing, scarcely perceptible nod, after which she at once turned end engaged in conversation with her lover, as though unconscious of the new-comer's presence. The latter, however, with the most perfect indifference to her action, settled woftrilr hfhind a bottle of win& . and, after addressing a few commonplaces to the banker, began to talk exclusively to Boncourt about certain racing events, past and prospective, while frequently helping himself to the wine with an eager and trembling hand. Boncourt seemed to take a sort of insolent and negative interest in the newcomer, but Mr. Marlowe soon looked bored. The banKer, indeed, presently asked to be excused, on the plea of having letters to write, and left the table, after promising to return before they could tnink of departing. CHAPTER VII. MB. MARLOWE'S DILEMMA, "While ostensibly bu6j*ing himself over Mr. Alworth's accounts in the office, Mr. Marlowe was continually brooding over his private interview with Boncourt, and the mortification and apprehension it had caused him. "To think of my being in the power ox this iwlvety, self-poisoned, veteran Bcoundrel, such as his own avowals make him out to be!" he ground out between his teeth. "It is maddening! But softly; am I really in his power? If so, why didn't he refuse to make any settlement whatever on Adele? He can't really have that document?the sign manual of my idiocy and ruin?in his possession, or he would assuredly have pushed me to the wall." He was timidly interrupted by his housekeeper, who wanted to know if the cook and housemaid might go out visiting, or wonld be required at home by the presence of the guests. "les, yes; let their go, ma'am; and pray don't disturb me again," said the master. "Do you lock up the house, and go to bed. I will see to bidding the guests good-night, besides admitting the servants when they return." Miss Winford thanked him, and he was once more left alone. He was seated on Mr. Alworth's high stool, with the account books spread out before him, but still found it difficult to take his mind off Boncourt and his implied threats. At Inst he strnck the books impatiently with his clenched hand, and wheeled in his seat. "What a stark, staring, driveling idiot I was to give in to that fellow so soon!" he j went on muttering. " \\ ny, even 11 ne nas the paper, I might safely defy him! With my reputation opposed to his, coald I not wiiistle him down the wind, and even save poor Noel from this divorced woman, wilh the caprices of a Spaniard and the manners of an odal'sque? Fangh! I will break with them both to-morrow. Croak will help me out. Still, if I only knew whether he had that paper or not!" He tnrned again to the books, and was really beginning to forget the exasperating issue, when, just as the office clock was striking nine, he was aroused by a sound of the street door being opened and Bhut, as though with an uncommon degiee of cantion. "Why, I heard Miss Winford put down the night-latch," thought he, risinc and passing through the railing-gate into the rear division. "Tush! it must be Noel coming back to look for the newspaperhe spoke of. No one else in the garden is provided with a night-kev." He was about to return to his interrupted employment, but suddenly paused again. The steps that were passing through the hall did not resemble Noel's. fXO EE COKXIX L'ED. 1 What the Groundhog is. ^ At na^iiwnl liiofrtrrr au \JL bug Uttbumi uuiui y )book show that the groundhog is a genUa jof the squirrel order. It is from sixteen fto twenty inches long, without counting iour inches of tail. The body is brownish gray above and reddish-brown below, and the feet and tail arc a blackish brown. The animal is fond of sitting erect, as a squirrel does, and it assumes that attitude when eating, holding its food in its paws. It cleans and combs its fur like a squirrel, licking and smoothing it dowu as a cat doe3. Most of the day, when not hibernating, it sleeps in its burrow, occasionally coming out and taking a look around. In the evening it goes out to feed upon grass, as well as fruits and vegetables, to which it often does much damage. In the daytime it never goe3 far from its burrow. When angry or alarmed it makes a gurgling or shattering noise with its mouth and sometimes it utters a shrill whistle, which has given it the name among the French Canadians of the "silflcur" or whistler. The bite of the groundhog is severe and it will make a desperate fight against a dog. Its hide is tough and was formerly used for whin lashes. The fur is of no value r and the flesh is flabby and rank, though the latter, when cooked like roast pig, can be eaten by a person who has a firstrate appetite. The groundhog, or "svoodchuck," as it is more commonly called in the north, becomes torpid during the latter part of October in Maryland. Unlike the other varieties of marmot, it is not gregarious in its habits, each family keeping to itself. It burrows on the slope of a hill or by the side of a big stone, making an excavation twenty or thirty feet long, which descends obliquely four or five feet, then gradually iiEing to a large rouud chamber, where the groundhog family sleeps and brings up its young. The little ones are born three to eight at a time. New England farmers make a practice of drowning groundhogs out with water. One story was found of a woodchuck that was kept tame in a kitchen, making its bed in a box full of straw in a warm corner. Nevertheless, when the cold 6casou arrived it curled itself up with it. i:?ii ?>.. > IIS ILL tits UUSU 1U Itz> OLUiiJttV^U ilUU tllUO composed itself for a winter's sleep. Some weeks later it was put on the floor by the fire and gradually thawed out, but, when put back in :ts box, it went asleep nrrain for six weeks more. The burrows of the groundhog are always bo constructed that no water can flood them.? Washington Star. there la no sweeter repose than tjval whAch ia purchased by labor. A FAMOUS HOUSE. THE BIRTHPLACE OF THE DISCOVERER OP AMERICA A Visit to the Old Homestead in Genoa in Which Columbus First Saw the Light ot DayBorn in Poverty In the various biographies of Christopher Columbus to the little town of Cogoleto, sixteen miles from Genoa, has generally been credited the honor of being his birthplace. Until very recently, says a letter fr<Jm Genoa to the Chicago Post, a humble mansion in the outskirts of this village has been regarded as the domicile v;hich first sheltered the CHRISTOPHER COLUMBU8. world's greatest discoverer. In a rear room of this antiquated structure the young navigator, as he gazed from the windows upon the blue waters of the Mediterranean, is commonly supposed to have first conceived his ideas of securing a nearer passage Jo the Indies and to have drafted his first charts for the expedition. But, alas for the reputation of historians and biographers, these statements so long accepted as the truth must now be discarded. Not Cogoleto but Genoa is the birthplace of Columbus. He was born in a stuccoed old house situated on a narrow, dirty street and known as 37 Via del Pontecello. It is a very thickly settled portion of the city, that in which the famous dwelling stands, and poverty?gaunt and haggard poverty?is soen on every hand. The house is five and a half TTHERE COLUMBUS WAS BORN*. stones high and is closely wedged in between those of a similar kind. Almost in front of it a huge arch, built centuries before Columbus's birth, spans the street. At present the house is unoccupied and the first story is boarded up in front, giving it anything but an attractive appearance. Two stories have been added to it since it was occupied by Domenico Columbus, the father of Chriscophef, and numerous other alterations have been made, but, fortunately, there has been preserved by the munici? palitv an exact draught of the old house, aud by searching among the the musty old records of the fifteenth century this may be seen by the traveler in the Genoa, and it will indeed be surprising if PORTRAIT OF CliM.MBCS. (FROM A RARE FAINTING.) among these papers are not yet to be found many documents that will throw new light upon the early life and surroundings of Columbus. The American Consul, Mr. Fletcher, kindly accompanied me to the old site, and 1 shall never forget the moment when I stood with him at the frout of the building and read this inscription which is engraved there on a stone tablet: ; Nulla domus titulo dignior. : Heic paternis in cedibus : nnoriHnm I wnristoiurus luiuuiku^ .. ; Prioianquejuventutein transegit. : which translated is: No house more worthy of a record. In tnest: paternal walls did Christopher Columbus pass his boyhood and eurly youth. A book has been published by Marcello Staglieno giving au exact reproduction of the records relating to the homeot Columbus, and also containing a cut of the old building. But 100 copies were published. Mr. Fletcher, by considerable pains and research, was fortunate enough to procure two copies, one ot which he sent to the State Departmeut at Washington, and the othc-r, which he has in his possession, he kinclly gave me to look at. This book fully establishes the site of Columbus's birthplace. t ? . . ' t ~ ' The father of Columbus was a cheese vender and lived with his fatnily overhia p ace of business. In these close and unwholesome surroundings it is indeed a wonder that Christopher, a delicate boy, grew to vigorous manhood. And associated with the ignorant people among whom his lot wa3 cast, it is also remarkable that he should have aspired to anything more than the life of a vender. Yet Iron, the ranks cf the poor, squalid and ignorant have many of our greatest men sprung. The divine spark of genius is as likely to kindle a flame in the hut of the lowly as in the palace of the King. Mr. Fletcher has been flooded with letters from America, mostly from Chicago, making inquiries concerning Col ' '3. M&gsir** COLUMBDS'S liIRTHPLAC3 AS it STANDS TO-DAY. . umbus. Some enterprising speculators of the Garden City have tried to buy the old homestead, probably with" the intention of exhibiting it during the World's Fair; but they are too late. What a few months ago could have been bought for $10,000 has since been sold to the municipality and could not now be had for a million. The city of Genoa drove a very sharp bargain with the unsophisticated owner and got the place for almost nothing. Among other objects here relating to Columbus is the very fine statue of him near the depot. The pedestal is adorned with ship prows, and at the foot of the statue, which rests on an anchor, is the Trnoplinflr r\f A.morir?a Tt. io nnr. 6 ~e-.~ ? ?. -- rounded by allegorical figures representing geography, science, religion, strength and wisdom, and between them are re liefs from the life of Columbus with inscriptions. Perhaps the most interesting of the smaller relics of the great navigator are some original letters written by him to the Genoa Bank of St. George offering to give to the bank one-tenth of his revenue from property secured by discovery in the new world in tru3t for the purpose of reducing the tax on com and wine to relieve the poor of his native city. The letters are kept under lock and key in the marble pedestal of his bust at the palace, and only the copies are on exhibition. To see the originals a special permission must be obtained from the Mayor. Tree-Trauk Masie. The natives of the New Hebrides, who are still addicted to the practice of anthropophagy, afford one of the most curious subjects of contemporaneous study to be made upon primitive and savage populations. Nothing is more THE TREE-TRUNK MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. curious than their musical instruments. The accompanying sketch gives a good idea of them. They consist of hollow tree-trunks containing apertures connected by a vertical slit. These trunks are ornamented at the upper part with sculptures representing heads, feet, war clubs and ships. By striking each of them with a stick, the natives produce somewhat cadenced sounds resembling those of the tomtom. They perform their dances to the sound of these instruments, after having daubed their faces red and black. They have also three other musical instruments; a sort of trumpet made of a shell perforated at the side or extremity; a syrinx with six, seven or eight pipes, from which they sometimes obtain harmonious sounds; and a loug flute perforated at the lower extremity and consisting of a single piece of bamboo with three holes and a mouthpiece. These instruments are used only within doors in order to amuse children. Cleaned Out. "Lily, did you polish Polly's cage and clean him out, as I told you?'' J Lily?"Yis, Sor-r; an' I know he's clean out of his cn'.re, for I saw hiin liy out o' tli'i window!"?Jadqe. Mrs. Bindley Martin, of New York City, who is the owner of some of the tinest jewels among collections made by millionaires, has lately added to her stock something of rare value and historical interest. It is nothing less than a crown which belonged to the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, a velvet cap, with the insignia of royalty emblazoned in precious stones. Thirty-three steamboats navigate the Congo River. W -J . ^ . .vt-:? .JXl)U<r!'<<l'ifcM^i>iK?Wi>;d-Hit***5' *? V = a - : * "WILD VIOUETS. They smell of the rain, the sun and breese; y Of the long, cool shadows of cedar trees; > Of the brook that sinks down its taomy ledge; I Of the bending ferns and the rnstling sedgey Of velvet moesee that keep the dew; And of sweet dead leaves that sweet last year knew. , They smell of the chill pure breath of dawn* Of wind-swept hillside and sun-swept lawn; ' Of rose-briar hedge and of winding lane; And?of dreams that will never come bacl^ 1 again, (These wild, pale violets, faint and sweet, That we buy in the crowded city street. ?Madeline S. Bridges, in Fuck. PITH AND POINT. A grave situation?A cemetery site. Measurses not men?The ladies* tailor. , Money is the life preserver that keep*' people up in the swim. A prison warden should not be judged by the company he ktvpi.?SBotion. Courier. , This is the season of the year when potted plants want the earth.? W<u7iinq-\ ton Star. The gas meter toils not, but as a spin-1 ner it is a splendid success.?Pitttburff' Dispatch. , While the girl of the period is shining' in the varlor, her mother is shining in! \ the kitchen. / A man may be positive in his negative; / and so may a woman for that matter.?-I.. Pittsburg Pott. . A man's experience is either something* he has or something that has him.?I Savannah News. Whales are not naturally belligerent; animals, but they -will come to blown r> ? once in a while.?St. Joseph Nemo*. The Italian organist comes monkeying , around the premises with the return of I warm weather.?Boston Transcript. A ten of diamonds at the present day; >-'] is worth $35,000,000. We furnish the; information to prevent the public fromj being overcharged. ?Monroe City New,' The sexton helped his worthy wife, He peeled potatoes well; He next peeled off his overcoat, And then he pealed the bell ?Washington Post. He (catching at a straw)?''So you do think it is at least possible that I could;' make you happy?" She?"Yes?if ij were going to marry for spite, you know." ?Life. "To what do you attribute your; ? -'p longevity?" asked an investigator dt a centenarian. 4'To the fact that I never! died," was the conclusive reply.?Ear-' per'* Bazar. Sergeant?"When you put the gun to emir uhmilder to flhont. vou must stand! eo still that a guide-post beside yoaj would look like a drunken civilian."?* Fliegeende Bladter. When you see a man dart suddenly across the street in New York City,now, you are not certain whether he has seen' a creditor coming his -way or there is a. live wire down.?Statesman. He talked the old raw dumb and blind. Then muchly to his grief The old man said?'twas most unkind? 1 "Go on. I'm not yet deaf." ?The Epoch, Banks?"I never have been able to ascertain why it was that the number of suicides increased fifty-nine per cent, in' the year 1716." Ranks?"Why, it wa?' in that year that the first piano was invented."?Life. "Did my poem go in?" He did timidly ask it; And, oh, 'twas a sin, That vile editor's grin. Ashesaid: "Yes,it's in? The waste-basket." ?Brooklyn Life. "Brethren," remarked the pastor, as the contribution box started around, "will you be kind enough to pat a needle and thread in, so I may be the better 'j able to utilize the buttons you so lavishly contribute?"?Washington Star. The Future Cashier: Teacher?''But, Hans, what are you doing with your shoes and stockings oil?" "The book wonts to know how, many four times five V is. and I haven't got enough fingers, so I have to count my toes."?FliejeiuU Blaster. Gimlet?"The old mail said last night; that I was the worst clerk he ever had,; and if I came around again he'd have the, porter fire me." Auger?"Well, what did you do?" Gimlet?"Do? What would any gentleman do? I handed in,' my resignation."?Neu> York Recorder' } Ho (after marriag )?"What? You have no fortune? You said over and over again that you were afraid some one would marry you for your money." She ?"Yes, and you said over and over again that you would be happy with me if I hadn't a ccnt. Well, I haven't ai ij cent."?New York Weekly. "May I have the honor to conduct ?fcr. tn snnncr table?'* juui uau5""-* " "? ?ri? asked a society gentleman of a lady from the country, who is staying with some friends whom she is visiting. "May you take her to supper?" was the response. "Why, of course, and you may take me, too. That's wiiat we came here for."? Mercury. . A Man-Faced Crab. "Have I got 'em again?" exclaimed a dapper-looking chap, as he jumped back from a case in the State Mining Bureau's Museum, over which he had been standing. "What's the matter?'' asked his companion. "Look," was the answer. The cause of this commotion was not j very large. Only a little thing, but as j queer a combination as crawls. It does crawl, too, for it was nothing more nor less than a crab the young men were gazing at. But such a crab I The body was not quite an inch long, but the body was what told the tale. It bore a perfect impression of the facc of a Chinese coolie; a veritable missing link, with eyes and nose and mouth all clearly defined. It seemed to jeer at oue, and the impish look it seut out was quite enough to send a victim of alcoholism up a tree. The specimen is a contribution of Arthur E. Rider, and is known as the Ileike kani, or face crab. There arc im mense numbers of these crawling imps in tbe iDland sea of Japan, and the Mining Bureau's specimen came from there. From out of the "chin" of the crab grow two arms on either side, while it has two legs about two inches and a half long on either side of the face, seemingly grow- ( iog out of the back of the head.?-San j Francitco Examiner. I ... ' - _ I