The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, August 31, 1892, Image 6
A RESCUE.
#T X/OCJS X. CRH.L, JR.
ad Heart Bailed forth on the sea's calm boBom
To fathom the depths of joy;
She longed to drift as a faded blossom
Where sorrow doth ne'er annoy.
She plead to heaven to charm and thrill her
With infinite strains of cheer;
No answer came?while the damp windschill her
And the storm is drawing near.
fcr weary form, ar. it weaves and totters,
Is beckoning now?'"I fail!"
Bard Love, a sailor who 6kims the waters,
_ Caught sight of the drooping sail,
ana quick as iconpui xo ine rescue ubbucb j
And clasping the fainting form.
Be speeds away while the lightning flashes
And dreadfully blows the storui.
He onward sped to the land of Beantv,
Away to his palace home,
To sweetly live in the bonds of duty,
Pull free from the mad sea's foam.
Bad Heart iB saved from a sad-like ending,
No more will she ever rove;
The nuptial bells in their silent blending
Have wedded her life to Love.
Richlasd, 8. D.
BETRAYED;
A DARK MARRIAGE
MORN.
A Romance of Love, Intrigue ana
Crime.
*
BY MRS. ALICE P. CARRISTON.
CHAPTER 1.
FORESHADOWING.
4^" mercy's safie,
$2 AC$Yyyj? aY' my dear fellow.
JJffftgSljLLj^n^what has happened?
"* am El*
gene ? completely,
AtRw] j^lCfcpgiu t terly rained,"
^AjBf Jrcame back the an*
j^xSjjg? ewer in a heavy
jfeiBiByBSfci groan, as thespeaker
bnried his face in
his hands. "Oh! my
"But, tefl me, what is it?"
wfkjf)pleaded his friend, now fairly
| i Kay Fielding removed his
m hands, and in a broken voice,
J bat without looking his ques1
tiooerin the face, 6aid:
"The president himself came to me
this morning, and after a few kind words
and oantioas questions, intrusted me
with a very important commission and a
large sum of money, at the same time as
Buring me that on the I ait ntui execution
of the trust might depend my future advancement
in the bank."
Well?" asked Eugene, breathlessly.
"Well, I have been unable to consummate
the matter. *
"Good heavens! how is that?"
"I am short a hundred dollars of the
mount the president gave me."
"What! is it lost?"
"Yes, it iB lost; but, understand me,
Eugene, it is lost in 6ucb a way that I
cannot possibly explain it as an accident"
"That looks bad." mused his friend.
Then, after a moment's consideration:
"When were you to make your report to
the president?
"When he comeB down to the bank in
the morning; that is, between nine and
ten o'clock.
"And you 6ee no way out of your difficulty?"
"No way whatever, unless, indeed, I can
get one hundred dollars between this and
eicht o'clock to-morrow morniDfir. In that
case I might still have time to complete
the transaction and be ready to report."
"Between this and eight o'clock tomorrow
morning," mechanically reTeat
ed Eagene.
"Yes, but what's the use of talking?
"Where em I to get one hundred dollars,
or even half that amonnt? You see for
yourself, old fellow, I'm fairly done for."
Eugene Cleveland's face instantly became
as white as his friend's. He saw
and fully appreciated the gravity of the
situation. But what was to be done?
Even if it were to save his life he
eould not have got altogether twenty-five
dollars of his own money, much less
four times that amount. And leaning
forward with his elbows resting upon a
desk, he gate himself up to profound reflection.
Preeantly, raising his head, he put the
question:
"Does ant one else know of this loss?"
' -".Not a living eouI but yourself,* was
the qu'ck reply.
"That'? well; I'm glad of that.*' And '
again he became silent.
\4 .This lasted BC long that young Fielding
"watt forced to 6peak.
ono onv Tuarr Atif nf if?"
I/VU It JUU OVW ?UJ rw %mj *?? v .?
asked, anxiously. "Remember," be
Rasped, 'it's not only my own bread nnd
butter that's at stake but my sister's living
is also in <1 aDger."
For a moment Eugene did not respond;
"indeed, be hardly eeeasd to hear M- ;t
Jencth, with ;a;d:
j? *1 ,M ?at one way. I must go to
*u'y uncle, the director. The one, you
know, who obtained this situation for
me."
"What! Do you think he will help us?"
asked Bay, in great surprise.
"I c n't say,' rejoined Eugene, slowly
shaking his head, while a peculiar, an
almost frightened look, c:ime into his
face. "1 c.in't say, but I can do no less
' than try. And?and?yes, for your sake,
*> J T*11 A* ?!,? K;q
Xkny, nuu. iui iucba b, x 11 uu ^uat vu?o ?v*j
evening."
S. "God bless yon, my dear fellow," exv
claimed Kay, grasping his hand end
shaking it warmly, "yoa are, indeed, a
trne friend," aDd the tears which he
conld no longer repress, started from his
eyes.
Tanng Cleveland, since he had fonnd
it nasessary to work for a living, bad not
been a frequent visitor at his ancle's
house, for he could but notice that his
august relative in no way exerted himself
to make his calls agreeable. He had,
therefore, of late, resolved to wholly discontinue
his visits; but not for' th?? reason
alone.
His uncle, the Hon. Sherwood Elliston,
bad recently married a second time;
and on several of his later visits Euirene
had seen his new wife, who, he conld but
acknowledge to himself, interested him
profoundly.
On t e occasion of his first
ner, wnen sne~ entered the rooin antt
came slowly toward him, he was so
atartled by her wondrous grace and
beauty that he almost forgot to rise from
bis chair.
* This glorious being, this magnificent
lady, wbb bnt twenty-five years or age.
She was tall and blonde, with deep-set
eyes under the shadow of sweeping, dark
lashes. Thick masses of hair framed
her 6omewhnt sad but splendid brow; and
she was lichly, even perfectly dre^ed,
her elegant garments drnpitg her like r.n
antique statue.
In the days of her maidenhood herenemies
au<l rivals h d nicknamed her "the
goddess," beciuso they hated her, and
w?h?rt to insinu te that she put on trrund
ire. The Dame they Rave her, however,
vas marvelously suitable.
When she walaed you would have
imagined Bhe had descendrdfjom a pedestal.
The po e of her be id was like that
of the Greek Venus; her delicate, dilating
nostrils seemed carved by a cunniug
chisel from transparent ivory. Then at
times she had a startled. < Imost wild,
look, Bnch as is seen in the hunting
nymphs, bhe used a uaiurallv tine voice
iritn great effect, and had most assiduously
cultivated a taste tor art.
8Le was nntur.illy so bucitnrn, one was
compe led to gue*s her thoughts; and
Euuei.e h d not l>ten in ber society long
before he found hmise'f jefieciiug as to
wtiat van pass sg >u tbat Belf-conotntered
?ul.
Inspired by his innate generosity?foihe
qnickly conceived the thought that
she was not hnppy with his uncle?and
prompted as well i y his secret admiration,
which every iut-tant was growing stronger,
he took pleasure in heaping upon her
the attentions be might have paid a
queen; hut she always seemed as indifferent
to them as to the voice of her husband.
or anvtbinsr else about her.
Ibis conduct only innamea tne yoaag
man the more. He found it almost impossible
to keep the lovely siren oat of
his mind for a moment, and so at length,
for honor's sake?not only because she
was his uncle's wife, but because he himself
was, and h;id been for years, pledged
to another?he had resolved never to see
her more.
nrVl ofof/ilv loflv Vl an.
E eared all Hlon? to be indifferent, uhe
ad not been Blow to note the effects her
wondrous chirms had produced on Her
hnsband's handsome and agreeable
nephew. As yet, however, she had made
no sign.
The evening came, and in due time
Eugene, with a strange feeling about his
heart, ascended the broad steps leading to
his uncle's stately mansion, and rang
the bell.
He was admitted, and, being known to
the servant, was at once shown into the
drawing-room, where both Mr. Eiliston
and his wife were seated.
After a few moments of general conversation,
Eugene, with u somewhat embarrassed
air, begged that he might see
his uncle alone on very urgent business.
Mr. Eiliston looked greatly annoyed;
but, nevertheless, arose and led the way
to the library.
"Well," he 6aid, in a disagreeable tone,
as he seated himself in the most comfortable
chair in the room," what is it now?
Are you in trouble? I suppose bo, and
want some money to help von out, or you
wouldn't have come to me."
"You have guessed nearly right, my
dearsir," responded Eugene, looking up
quickly. "I am in trouble, and unless I
have $100 this very night, or, at least,
before 8 o'clock to-morrow morning, the
gravest consequences are likely to en
sue."
"I thought bo." said the older maD, in a
dry, hard, unfeeling tone; "and this ie
exactly whf.t I have expected ever since
I helped y ou to the very desirable situation
yon now fill at the Atlantic National
Bank."
Then, after a moment's pause:
"You were brought up to a life of ex.
travagance and idleness. Your father,
when he 'was worth no more than three
hundred thousand, lived as though he
were a mi lionaire; and at Inst, losing everything
by a single venture in Wall
street, like "the coward he was, blew out
his brains.
"No wonder, then, that you, his son, are
the man you are, and the more one doeB
for such as you, the more one may."
"Uncle!" exclaimed Eugene, with
flushed face &nd flashing eyes.
"There! there!" cried the other, hastily,
"don't let us have a scene here. I can't
let you have the money?in fact, have
none to throtf away; so there's an end to
that. I've an important engagement with
the governor, at the Fifth Avenue Hotel,
relative to the United States Senatorship,
for eight o'clock, and as it is near that
hour now, I must be going. But don't
disturb yourself, I beg.
"If you've nothing better to do, you can
amuse yourself with the books?a very
diverting pastime indeed, as well as in
' * l it - t. -11 1- -
Btructive;" ana, oustnng imome nan, ue
seized his hat und cane and harried from
the house.
But Engene hardly noticed his withdrawal;
he was almost stunned, 60 bitter
was his disappointment on account of his
friend.
And, seated there in a great arm-chair,
he looked fixedly before liim, nor noti<ed
that the door bad aguin opened and
closed, and that he was no longer nlone.
It was the beautiful wife of the would>
ce Senator who had entered; and, after
she had almost reached the youn? man's
side, she stopped and looked curiously at
him.
Then, once more 6he advanced, nnd as
she drew near suddenly took his head between
her hande, and, rasing his face,
imprinted a burning kiss upon his feverish
lips.
He started, and gazed up into her eyes
a!mo3t with a look of terror, while a
crimson blush mantled his cheek. And
as the regarded him with a peculiar smile,
he drew back a little, hastily exclaiming;
"What! who did you take me for? Did
- did you think I was your husband?"
"Oh, no, indeed!" she laughed; "I am
scarcely likely to make such a ludicrous
mistake as that. No, my friend, I knew
perfectly well who it was I kisped."
Then, after a moment's silence, and
speaking in a more serious tone:
"I know etill more, Eugene; I know
that yon are in trouble, and I think I can
help you."
He started, and gave her an eager,
searching look.
"Yes," Bhe went on, "I believe I can
help you. $av, Eugene, do you lote me?"
and, t?king one of his hands in her own,
she seated herself upon a stool at his
r ....
itet, and looked up w.th a liungry?with
an almost famished?gaze into his face.
"Love you?" he Asked, strangely agitated.
"Love you?" ,
"Yes. love me, as 1 long to be love J,"
she Raid; "as?as I could love you."
"You are beautiful, wondrously beautiful,"
he murmured, rapidly; "i nd there
are thousands much more worthy of your
regard than I; but I?I believe I could
1U>0 J UU * D1JT UiUVU il JWU nvum wuij
help my friend."
"Oh! nnd bo you want tbis money?this
hundred dollars?for a friend?"
"Yes," rejoined Eu ene, quickly; "nnd
if I am not able to give it to him before
8 o'clock to-morrow ndoming. it will kill
hiB Bister? ns sweet a girl, Mrs. Elliston,
as ever breathed."
The lady lrownei.
'What is 6he to you?" she a6ked, abruptly.
I
"Nothing whatever?I swear it," he said, 1
earnestly. 'She is simply the sister of 1
mv friend, and I know ber to be a good
and worthy girl?that is nil."
Cora Eilieton rnised herself a little,
and, quickly drawing his face forward,
again pressed a burning, passionate kiss
upon his lips.
"Swear to love me as I love you," she
whi pered, rapidly, eagerly, "and you
shall take the money sway with you this
very night."
"But why should you care so much for
me?y?*u, wbo cau commund nverything
your heart may desire?"
"Because I love you so muchl" was th?
Inntmt r6Dlv.
She pronounced these simple words in
such a deep, impassioned tone, f*:at
Eugene trembled and grasped the arms of
the chair to still himself.
"Mrs. Elli6ton!" be at length faltered.
"What, Eugene?" and there was a
Btrange tone in her voice.
"Heavens! in fact?nothing!" he B^id;
"for this is a declaration of?friendship,
I hope; and, believe me. your friendship
is very precious to me."
Sbe let go his arm, which she had
seized, and, in a hoarse and angry voice,
eaid:
"I am not your friend!"
"What?what are you, then?"
His voice was almost calm, but he recoiled
a little, his head coming in contaot
with the back of the chair.
The explosion, so long pent up. now
pur6t forth" m earnest, ana a nooa ol woras
uoured forth from the beautiful woman's
lipB with inexpressible impetuosity.
"What I am i know not! I no longer
know if I :.m myself?if I am dead or
alive?if I am good or bad?if I am
dreaming or waking.
"O, Eugene! what I wish, is that you
and I may never leave this room again?
that no one mar ever euter here?thut the
day may nevrr ri9e again?thut this night
may never tinisb?that I should wish to
feel always - always?in my head, my
heart, my ent re being?that which I no*
feel, near \ou?of vou?for voul
"J. siioum vusn to De stnc&eu wun some
sudden illness, without hope, in order to
be watched and wept for by yon?oared
for, as you care lor that brother and
sister.
"Oh, love me?lovo me, Eneene, and
yon shall want for nothing while you live.
I will ponr gold into your Jap as freely as
you would give wiiter to the thirsty. Do
you hear me, d rling?"
A strangfe, mixed feeling soon took
possession of him.
He was fearfully fascinated and drawn
toward her; and yet the thought that this
woman would buy his love, and pay for
it in dollars and cents, repelled iiim.
And then, all at once, a sweet, trusting,
child-like face arose before him.
"I can make no such bargain with you,"
he said, in a tone of decision. "Mv attentions
nave long been engaged elsewnere,
and it is no part of my character to prove
false where I have sworn to prove true."
The lady Btarted to her feet.
"You dare to taunt me witli a desire to
wrong my husband? You?" 6he exclaimed,
fiercely.
"I 6poke only for myself," he rejoined.
In a conciliatory tone.
"No matter; you spurn me and the lova
I have felt for you since the fir6t moment
mv eves beheld your face," 6be cried,
even more wildly.
"I do not 6purn yon, and I have no
wish to offend yon,* was biB earnest reply.
"But I think it right to tell jou that
what you propose can never be."
"I care not, "she almost hissed between
her beautiful teeth, "you shall rue this
ryght?aye, rue it bitterly, to the last day
of your life." And before he could fram?
another sentence she was gone, and he
was once more alone in the library.
CHAPTER tL
AFTER ViLOUJ>S A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE.
Eugene Cleveland, left alone in the
library, sat for some time plunged in
thought.
The whole scene that had so recently
passed had been more than a surprise to
him. Never, even for a single moment,
had he so much a6 dreamed of what wa?
really concealed in the apparently cold
heart of thut strangely beautiful lady.
She had gone away angry with him?
#?mV4#nntr onorrtr What UATil^ fiVlA Ha?
It waB in ijer power to work him infinite
hum. Would she use that power
against him? Could he doubt it?
But 8he loved him. Ahl he could not
help seeing and believing that?loved
him with an intensity that was truly
frightful?the very thought of which
thrilled him, yet made him shudder. And
loving him as she did, would sbe not relent?would
sbe not even return to him?
Thinking thus, Eugene took a book, and
as he idly turned the leaves? waited. For
what?
An hour passed; there was another
slight sound just without the library door.
He felt a sudden pa'pitation, and a secret
wish that it might prove to be Mrs. Elliston.
It was his uncle who entered.
He advanced with measured stride,
looking very important, and touching Eugene,
who had quickly arisen from hi6
seat, on the shoulder.
'I hen, lomewhit impressively, he said:
"Well, young man!"
-Well, sir."
"What are jou doing here now?"
"Oh, I was juBt looking over this
work," holding up the volume he still retained
i> his hand.
"Reading, eh? Urn' Well, sit down
there?iH down, I say."
Eugene sank back into his easy chair,
while Mr. Elliston threw himself on the
6ofa, aiad let one foot rest on the stool his
wife hid so recently occupied at the
young man's faet.
"Weil, well," he repeated, after a long
cause.
"Well, sir?" said Eugene, not very well
knowing what else to say.
"What the deuce!" growled the other.
"Is that all you can think of? I thought
yon wanted me to give yon, or, at least,
to loan yon, a hundred dollars."
Eugene started, changed color not a
little, ond looked up at his nucle with
breathless inteiest.
"Understand me, young man,"* said the
great man, very impressively. "I've no
idea what you, who under tne circumstances,
are receiving a very liberal sal.
ary, can possibly w.int of a hundred dollars,
and I am not now going,to stop to I
inquire. Moreover, you are not to suppose
its my regular habit to loan money
to every poor :el tive who mf?y see fit to
make a flfcjiL.nd upon my pu.se.
"But," he added, alter a pause, "for
some reason that for the life of me I
can't comprehend, my wife has condescended
to take nn interest in this matter,
and if you are not too consummately
Eroad to receive the sum as a gift from
er, why, it's at your disposal, that's all."
Eugene, who had once more started to
his feet, fairly gosred for breath, and
was obliged to hold on to the table foi
support. He made an effort to speak, but
for the life of him con d not utter a word.
"Forty devils.'? exclaimed hie uncle,
gazing at him with undisguised astonishment.
"What in the world is the matter
with you? Is there anything 60 very
fn a &pft'hep:f?d woman's
(akiug pily on buch a one as yott,
??ering the assistance you crave?"
"1?I?it's so very unexpected, you see,
B'j,"
"Hum. So that's it, eh? Well," offer'
ing him a hundred dollar bill, "hete'M tfcfr
money, and I trust you will prove very
grateful to Mrs. Elliston for this nark
mark of her favor."
"I?I cannot take the money, uncle, on
such terms," he said. "All I asked of you
was that, personally, you would lend me
the sum for a specified time. I do not
wish?in fact, I cannot, accept it from a
woman?as a gift.
"I sincerel* trust," he added, quickly,
"that you understand my feelings in tha
matter, and will fully apprecinte the mo.
tives that prompt me to decline Mrs. El?
liston's protfeied assistance."
"Wlint, you beggar!" cried bis un?U |
when be was able to 6pe:ik. "Too proad
to receive a present from my wife? I
should think, then, it was nboat time yoa
tto longer accepted ber hospitulity."
"I wa* about to wish you good-evening
and to withdraw," said Eugene,
mildlv.
"The Booner you'r? put of the houso the
better," giowled the other.
The young man, -with not the most
agreeable* sensations in the world, said
"good-nigbt," and look his departure.
It was now so lnte he did not think it
best to repHir to \oung Fielding's house,
and more especially >18 he bad no good
news to comoiunictte; po, with a desponding
heart, be wnndeied al out the streets
for sm hour, and then slowly made his
way to hiR own room, where, without undressing,
be.threw himself upon his bed,
not to sleep, tut to think.
For a^Aoui'ho lay tbere, scarcely moving,
and had it not been for his wideojten,
staring ejree, which were intently
fixed upon tbe ceiling, one might have
IhoiU'ht him plfepia?; as it was, he more
closely resembled tbe dead.
All at onco, with a glad exclamation,
he sprung out upon the floor, and turning
n.. rr.,c Vim hail left dllUtY
burning. Lurried 10 a trunk iD one corner
af the roonx. und. having selected a kev
irom among several on a ring, qulcJiiy
opened it.
After removing two trays, he thrust hiR
hand down into a co ner aad brought up
a leather-covered c.so, which, upon being
opened, disclosed a splendid cold
watch, set with jewels, nnd a solitaire
diamond ring.
"These will do for his business," he
murmured, softly; "but what is to become
of me? No matter, with Kay out of
this ticklish scrape, I can aliord to wait
for my beautiful enemy's next move,"
and then, alter putting away (he case
aud undiessing, he sought his couch and
was Bpeedily fast aileep.
The nt xt morning, some time before
eight o'clock, he call d at Fielding's
houxe; and on his friend's hastening to
the door to meet him, plticed a hundred
dollur bill in his baud.
"I hav? Bucccoiod. vau see." be simnlv I
?
said, "and now I will go and get some'
thing to eat."
"Stop! stop, Eugene," called Raymond,
as his frend was hurrying away; "you
must breakfast here; if yon don't, Meta
and I will never forgive you. Besides, I
want to ask you a queslion. What makes
you look bo deathly pale?"
"No matter," said Eugene, hastily;
then, in another tone:
"See here, Kay, I'll eat with yon if
Jrou'll onlv harry through your meal and
et me alone. What I want, above all
things now, is to 6ee you straight with
the bunk. Do you understand?"
"Of course, o: course; but tell me *
"Not a word until lunch time, tnen I'll
tell you everything."
"Well, you hard-hearted wretch, if
tliat O juui uiviuiaiiuui) v.uuav u*wm^, w?
he led the way up to the sitting-room,
where hie sister fooei joined them.
Meta Fielding was a sweet, innocent
little thing, of bat a tiitle more than
eighteen years?a girl that any man
might be proad to call wife or sister.
From the first time her brother had
brought Eugene to their home he had interested
her trreatlv. and. trath to sav. the
young man felt a wnrm regard for her; in
so much, indeed, that he had fallen into
the habit of spending at least half his
evenings in the apartments of his friend.
Breakfast did not detain them longthis
morning, and after it was over, they bid
the sweet little housekeeper gooi-by, and
hastened down town.
Eugene did not accompany his friend
when he went to carry out the mission
intrusted to him by the president the day
before; but he knew he had succeeded
when he saw his cheerful face as he entered
the bank, and went to his desk
about half an hour after the president arrived.
That morning Baymond Fielding worked
with a happy heart; but, from time to
time, ap he glanced toward the assistant
book-keeper, he was troubled to see a
settled look of gloom upon his brow.
"What can possibly be the matter with
him?" he asked of himself for the hun?
dredth time. MVell, I shall find ont at
one o'clock, tie will tell me everytiurp
then, ro I must ha7e patience and wait.''
Bat he wue to know something about
it even before that hour.
It was a little Dast twelve, when, on
casnany looking up, tie saw Mr. Elliston,
Eugene's uncle, enter the bank. It was
not a "bosrd day," and he was therefore
somewhat surprised to see him there.*
The ere at man did not stop iq the bank*
ing room, but passed through to the
President's private apartment, where a
quaiter of an hour later, Eugene was requested
to present himself.
He obeyed the summons at once, but
was scarcely absent ten minutes. When
be reappeared his face was deathly pale,
and there was a stern, set expression
about his features they had never worn
before.
Raymond was greatly alarmed, and
would have sprung to his side, but
Eugene made a hurried gesture to deter
him, and passing close by his desk, he
rapidly whispered:
"Don't look up; don't move. It's best
yon shouldn't appear over-friendly with
me. I've been discharged, and am going
at once. Come to tiibbs' lunch-room at
one o'clock. I'll be there, and tell you
all nbout it. God bless you, old fellow!"
And he passed on to his desk.
Briefly he explained to the head bookkeeper,
giving him no idea, however, of
the actual facts; and before one o'clock
^atiam V>in KftAlro vanairAil
UO uau tUlUCU UTVl UI D WVVAD,
what was due him, and had left the bank.
He went directly to the lunch-room,
where he knew the other employes of the
bank were hardly likely to come; and
having selected a table in a remote corner.
prepared to wait for his friend.
Raymond did not keep him long waitins.
Soon he entered the spacious
room, and catching a glimpse of him in
the far corner hastened to h s side.
"Sit dcrwn." said the discharged bookkeeper;
and as the other took his seat,
"what will you have?"
"Oh, anything, exclaimed Ray, impatiently;
"it doesn't matter. But, I say, be
quick, nnd tell me all about it."
Having given his order to the waiter,
Eug.ne did tell him nil; in fact, omitting
very little indeed.
When he had fin'shed, Raymond's face
was almost as pale as his had been wheo
be came from the President's room less
than An hour before.
"And all this has been brought about
through my consummate carelessness,"
muttered Raymonl, regretfu1ly.
"No, no, my dear fellowr exclaimed
Eugene, hastily: "you , shall not take
blame upon yourself that does not belong
to you. I tell \ou this would have
happened some time anyway; the thing
had i>ot to come. It was inevitable."
"You are going to be at home to-night?"
asked Ray, abruptly, after a long pause.
"Yea." __
"I'll cm on you men."
"Whatr Shan't I see yon before?that
is, directly after banking hoars?"
"No; I shall be engaged then."
"Oh, very well; and aBlsee yonr time's
up, R-jd as I have a little matter of my
own cn Irand, I'll leave yon 16r the present:*
na-3 so they parted.
ITO BE CONTINUED.}
How to Resuscitate ttPfefadn Drowning
The Cincinnati Laucet-Clinic tranlates
a valuable paper of M. Laborde, communicated
to the Paris Academy of
Medicine, on a new means of resuscitating
a person apparently dead from
drowning. It consists in forcibly drawing
out the tongue, in pressing the jaws
apart and in pulling the tongue forward
aud backward in an energetic manner.
The value of this manoeuvre is due to
Us marvellous effect on the reflex respiratory
system. M. Laborde cites the
history of two subjects who were apparently
dead by drowning whom he restored
to life by this procedure- He
concludes that we should never despair
* "? :/ J ? i.u
\a cases 01 drowning, even u ueaiu u?
apparently taken place.
In commenting on this report of M.
Laborde, M. Mericourt said he approved
fully of the procedure, but believed it
would be imprudent to employ it to the
exclusion of methods of artificial respiration,
notably that of Sylvester. This
consists in laying the patient on his back
on a plaiu inclined a little from the feet
upward, raising the shoulders gently by
a cushion placed under theto, with the
head thrown back, when the operator
grasps the patient's arms ju9t above the
elbows, repeatedly raising them till they
nearly meet above the head, and then
lowering them till they firmly press for
a moment against the sides of the chest.
?New York Herald.
Farmiux With Fire.
A new land-clearing machine has been
invented, the principle being to root up
nil weeds and pass them at once through
a double blast tire by means of a traveling
engine. The iramc is mounted on
four traveling wheels, upon which a
steam en?ine is fixed. On the right side
of the engine is a blower and on the left
is a brick hearth litted in an iron frame,
which forms a fire-retainer.
By a gradual incline the weed9arc elevated
to the fire-retainer, which is kept
up to a great heat by a blast from the
blower, and after passing through the
?re the ashes are deposited on the soil.
The engine is said to becapuble of cleaning
lour to eight acres per day in a
thorough manner, and at less cost than
is possible with hand labor.?Cincinnati
Enquirer- # i
ODD HUMAN FREAKS.
OFTEN COMPANIONABLE AND
CULTIVATED PEKSONS.
Facts of Interest About Noted
Dwarfs. Giants, Bearded Women
and Other People With Abnormal
Characteristics.
MLMOST everybody i*
interested in the
human freak, perhaps
because there
/X4- .?i \ 13, 88iue irum iubcu/)}
?* \ riosity to see the unIjx&jfy
, \ \ usual, a comfortable
see-wha t-I-m i gh thave-bcea
sensation
^at causes ^e ^e'klti
Tgffib holder to become
.' more satisfied with
his present lot. Who,
^or iQStaDcei even
V 'V*?w^h the possibility
? V before him of untold
^ gold and a peaceful
old age, with no chance ot his becoming
a charge upon the community, would
"want to be a frog boy, for example? No
prosperity in that condition would
tempt, and yet the female freak who
makes a good living, no mater how repulsively
she may be physically, never
wants for offera for marriage. This sim
CAPTAIN AND MRS. BATES.
ply shows how fierce and eager is the
greed of gain at the present time.
As a matter of fact the freak is often
a most intelligent, companionable, and
cultivated person, who feels the unpleasantness
of bis lot keenly, but who
has been debarred from any other occupation
by his deformity. Of course, in
time the freak becomes callous, as it
were. He forgets that he is regarded
only with disgust and pity, that he is
looked on with feelings purely of curiosity,
and that he attracts only by
reason of the morbid appetite for horror
which is present and dormant in all.
There was a romance in the life of the
ossified cirl. The Zulu caief fell in love
o
with her and used to make her small
gifts. He used to work her embroideries
iu his native Zulu way and present
them to her. At la9t it was planned by
them to elope, and at the same time the
three-legged man was going to elope
with the piano-player in the museum.
But the ossified girl's mother found out
her daughter's little game and prevented
it.
MISS ANNIE J0XE3, THE BEARDED GIRL.
Miss Lucia Zarratti enjoyed a proud
distinction and a handsome income as a
result of beiDg the smallest woman on
earth. She died in 1890. She was
only twenty-one inches in height. Her
foot was only an inch and a half long.
She appeared before every court in
Euro pe, and she possessed many handsome
presents which had been presented
to her by royalty. She could be completely
hidden in a top bat, and an
ordinary finger ring could bo slipped
over her hand and be worn as a bracelet.
She died on the cars coming from East
San Francisco. Sae was a Mexican by
birth and she died a very rich woman.
" tmnlofa
Then tnere are tue luunajr u>t.
Tie height of the smallest is thirty
THE IRON-JAWED MAN.
seven inches. The one standing in the
middle is the largest and most intelligent.
He is a cross triplet and bullies
his smaller and duller brethren. At the
taking of this picture the Murray midgets
or triplets were twenty years old.
Miss Annie Jones was eighteen years
old in 1887. She was Bamum's bearded
lady and, in addition to her beard, she
has the most luxuriant hair of any living
* I i Vv" " '
woman with the exception of the Sutherland
sisters. She takes great pride in
hor clothes, -which are very pood, and
she also indulges herself in a strong propensity
to acquire many beautiful gems.
Big Eliza, the Kentucky giantess, is
daily growing fatter, and where she will
CHANG YO LING, THE CHINESE GIANT.
i.1 QVIA 4a T7?>rT7
Biup lucre ID uu aijuwiu^, uuc JO
pleasant and ngreable and laughs a great
deal. In fact, she lives the saying
"Laugh and grow fat." Big Eliza, despite
the fact that the market is overcrowded
with fat women, has made and
still makes a great deal of money. She
supports an aged father and mother
down in Kentucky, who are very proud
of their fat daughter.
Then look at the iron-jawed man.
Notice the expression of pleased contentment
on the faces cf the two men who
sit astride the barrel. The iron-jawed
man also pulls nails out of a thick plank
THE MtTRIlAT TRIPLETS.
with his teeth. He is strong all over
and has rather a good figure.
The tall and impressive looking Chinaman
holding the watch is Chang Yu
Sing, the Chinese giant. He was born
in Pekin in 1847, of a very good family.
Hs is over eight feet high and weighs
400 pounds. Chang is in every sense a
gentleman and a very well educated
man. He speaks English perfectly and
reads French. For a long time he was
in this country and was exhibited over
* ? -? ---a ? JiL .1 At..
toe lengtn ana oreautu ui tuc uuu.
Last year he went back to China and be
is now engaged in the tea business in
Hong Kong. When he was here he
went into society a little and had quite
a vogue among the ladies. He is very
good looking and is well proportioned.
Altogether Chang is a most attractive
figure.
The lady and gentleman arm in arm,
with an undersized man standing beside
them, are Captain and Mrs. Bates, who
are advertised as 7 feet 11| inches high.
\
,\1ME. 8QUIKES, THE BEARDED WOMAN.
Mrs. Bates was Miss Ann Swan and came
of a good Nova Scotia family, and her
enormous height whs a cause of great unhappiness
to her parents. She kept on
growing, and doctors were consjitea.
She was then taken abroad and European
physicians were seen. She was put in
irons, but all to no purpose.
She soon became a giantess. While
in the show business she met the captaiD,
who was the giant in a museum.
They were married in St. George's, Hanover
square, London, and the queen presented
Mrs. B.ites with a ring. Mrs.
Bates is one inch taller than her husband,
but when they aretogetherin public
she does not wish this to be noticed,
as she stoops. Mrs. Bates told the writer
a little incident that happeued to her
once. She speaks with great deliberation,
what is known as an English accent,
and a careful choice of words.
"I was sitting one one day," she said,
'in the-museum, and no one else was
there. I happened to be sunk in deep
thought and obiivious to the world about
me. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my
arm. I sprang up with a cry and found
a countryman of iny own, wno had entered
unobserved by me, and seeing me
sitting silent and immovable had thought
that I was made of wax or some other
substance, and had stuck a pin in my
arm to see if it was impenetrable. I
very soon gave him to understand that I
was made of flesh and blood, 1 can tell
you."
Captain and Mrs. Bates are now down
in Kentucky, and the captain is breeding
horses.
The lady with the beard is Mme.!
Squires, the bearded woman. She baa1
been on exhibition for a Ions; time. Her
bods are doctors, and in Boston have
become qaite prominent in their profes- '
sion. Mme. Squires came originally'
from Boston, and is a woman of ror/ch
cultivation and amiability.
Tbe last picture is the Princess Bunnahow,
an Indian giantess. She is six
feet three inches in height, weighs 694
pounds, and is a full-blooded Pawnee.
Freaks, of course, are numberless, but
the best known, aside from Jo-Jo,
Laloo, and the two-headed boy, are tbe
ossified man, the turtle boy, the frog
boy, and the camel girl. Their pictures
*n ho rpnrnduced
t?it IUU uupi?uauv wvr . -p- ,
here and they have been written about
for years, but it is interesting to know
PRINCESS BONNAHO W.
that Jo-Jo i9 quite a gallant among tbe
ladies. Indeed, tbe Albioo man was
very jealous of Jo-Jo, who, be said, easily
cut him out with the fair sex. Tbe
armless woman, who does everything x v
with her feet, said that she made a great
hit in London by nursing her child pub*
licly, supporting it with her feet. ?Obicago
Herald.
Tbo Ticket Seller's Parrot.
-
Ben Lusbie, who for fifteen year* was
one of the greatest features of Baroun's
circus in the capacity of4 'lightning ticket
seller," had a wonderful parrot, wbich
had been presented to him by one of the
canvassmen of the show, who was at one
time a sailor on a steamer plying between
Boston and Fernandino, in the Bahamas.
Lusbie used to have a way of quieting
th#? Bcramblinc mob of tic-cet-Durcbaser*
?- o ?--- - %
around the ticket wagon by saying,
"Don't be in a hurry, gentlemen."
'There's plenty of time." "Don't
crowd each other," "One at a time, genA
PARROT IN ADVERSITY.
' -:tvj
tlemea," aad such like expressions. The
parrot, which was perched upon the safe
in the wagon just Ijpck of Lusbie, got
to learn these little speeches after a season's
tour and often broke out in a piercing
squawk with one of them, much to
Lusbie's amusement. The parrot, which
was quite a little vagabond, broke loo*e-"
from her fetters one day and flew over
into a neighboring woods, near the circus
grounds.
A searching party was made up, and
ihey had not proceeded far before they
heard a vast racket, apparently made by
squawking birds. Hastening to the
scene they found poor Poll clinging as
best she could to the limb of a dead tree,
surrounded by a screaming flock of
c-ows. The parrot had only two or
three tail feathers left, and the hostile
crows were striking, pecking and plucking
her right and left. Hanging on a?
best she could the parrot was shrilly
screaming, "One nt a time, gentiemenrDon't
crowd there!" "Take your time!"
"There's plenty more left."?Indianapoiis
Journal.
An English Prizs Cow.
The accompanying portrait is the Polled
Angus "Achievement," which has taken
first prize in a number of the great cattle
shows in England. She was sired by
Evander, 37J7; dam. Abbess III., 3616.
She wa9 the seventh successive beifer
calf which her darn produced, and
through her goes back to the well knowo>
Easter Tulloch stock.
The Disiippearuucc of Rnstns.
f r.
K ifl ?V? /> \
"Baitaf, whar is | "Here I is!""
jou, chilet" [ ?Puclu.
v:-#