The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, April 29, 1891, Image 6
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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