Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

A WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. JF. , V | CHAPTER XXII. jj" A HASTY WOBD AND ITS FCNISHMEXT. Dr. Philips, whose recognized partner Brian became, had known him from the hour of his birth, and on this accountt and because, too, of the deep friendship fm- hie father took more' ViilUl Mliliiyu * V* 4MU avrrMv*, ? ? thap u6ual interest in him. "I want to see in you the worthy sue-) cessor of my old friend,"he 6aid ond day. "You can work out an honorably career, and you 6hould. You owe it inot only to his memory but aisoto that dear, sweet wife of yours. Let her be? ? 1t nmmiapri vour father your lUBpii axivu. f * when he was dying that I would act the fart of a friend to her. I don't believe can do that more effectually than by helping you." "The old rflfrain, Doctor. In all that ie done for me, I see Margaret a6 the prompting motive. This prevents any feeling of conceit on my part, and I am willing that she shall have the welldeserved credit, but, nevertheless, my windless sails flap rather dolefully." ^ ..^1- i. "Dr. Philips says I have a dear, sweet wife. "What do you think of that, Margaret?" : "That he is a man given to overpraise," replied Margaret, glancing up from the scarf she was embroidering. ' A mirto mon tVioilt/h " RhA arldfid. A ? Ci J U1VV UJUM) hMV ? ? ? T turning to her work once more. "So good to me and so good to you." He was standing behind her chair, and bent hie head to look into her eye6. Nervous under such close contact she started up, and made a pretense of arranging some books upon a small table. i The sigh with which his eye followed her awakened in her heart some twings of remorse for what, she felt obliged to confess, was an unreasonable betrayal of ill-huumor. "Come back to your chair, Margaret. jYou can be very cruel sometimes.' | "Have you any right to blame me, Brian?" A glance at his face made her regret this question the second it passed her lips, but before ehe could recall it tie had left the room, with the words destined to echo in her heart through many long, bitter days. "No, Margaret. No right at all. I eee your love is cot for me." i A few minutes later she heard the k?oun4 of his horse's hoofs on the drive outside, it was too late now. She must wait until his return. Then she would tell him how sorry ehe was. She wondered why the moments dragged so heavily, scarcely an hour had passed since Brian had left her; it seemed more like three. The sound of some disturbance down 6tairs came to her ears. With a nervous Btart she listened anxiously. There was no mistaking the hurried footsteps and subdued voices. Something unusual had happened. With a mind filled with terrible dread, and a heart beating to almost suffocation, 6he flew down the steps, along the hall, and into the library, and there No need to ask the matter now. During I a second, in which 6he seemed to die a I hundred deaths, she took in the white face " and still form upon the sofa, and then, without even a cry, but with an expression that fixed itself indelibly upon the minds of those who saw it, Bhe knelt beside this remnant of the life and strength of an hour before, and, taking the cold hands between her own, 6oothed and pressed them in her effort to bring back their lost warmth. Poor hands! a little while ago she had shrunk from their contact, ana now they were all powerless, too helpless to respond even to her touch; yet she would still hold them, and, perhaps, after a time he might XeeL She would lay her heart on his, he would hear its beating and might understand. Sh-i would "Margaret." ' She heard her name repeated softly; ehe felt a gentle touch upon her shoulder, and a strong hand lifting her from her crouching position; and she raised her face, haggard an 1 drawn with suffering, to meet Dr. Philips' sympathetic glance. "Don't give way," he said kindly, seeing the question in her eyes. "We must get him to his room, and meanwhile we may hoDe that things are not so had as they 6eem." "Poor child," he murmured after he had left her; "and poor Briun. I little thought, when I saw Mm so wen ana i strong yesterday, that to-day he would be so near death. A sad ending to his young career." While Margaret sat by Brian's bed, trying in the pain and remorse which filled her heart to overflowing to make the most of the few attentions she could lavish upon him, a thought came to her like a ray of hope. "I will ask him to come," she said under her breath. "I will ask him to come. Did you call me, Brian?" She bent over the bed and gazed mutely npjn the motionless face. No, Brian liad not called, and with a heartbroken Bigh she turned away to write the telegram which was to tell Wilson of Brian's danger. j And three hours later Wilson came. Well might Margaret eav, as her hand rested in his sympathetic clasp: "I felt so sure that you would come. Tour presence gives me strength and hope. I feel that he will be safe in jour hands." ~ "As safe as these hands can make Ifclrn, Mrs. Leigh. Please God, your confidence will not be misplaced." | Margaret herself scarcely realized the iexteni of this confidence until she had taken Wilson to Brian's room, and waited with a suspense that amounted to agony the opinion which she felt would mean so much. She watched his face anxiously, but It revealed little, and only by u subtle Intuition did she understand ihat he considered Brian's state most critical. With the last gb'arn of hope dying from her heart, she followed him from the room. "The truth," sho pleaded, pressing Iher hand to her ejes. "The whole i+nith Ah' vnn hesitate. That is more cruel still. I can bear the truth best." I "Poor child," he answered. "You must (not give way to this despair. Yet, since you ask me io:- the truth, I will [not deceive you. Brian's condition ia jmost precarious. The odds are all lagainst him. He has but one bare chance." "He has one chance," she repeated, snatching at this straw of hope. "Then, Doctor, we will make the rr.ost of that ore chance. He cannot fight for himself: we must fight for him." "We will tight f<r him," was "Wilson's reply. "Your courage and bravery must ."Win, and I shall exercise all my skill Aid-d ! - ^ r;> _ ana an my experience ror Mm. I enall1 wire immediately for a professional j nurse, and since we are to work together j I need only remind you of the necessity t to keep your health and strength." t "Let me slay with him," she replied, ^ with an effort to compromise, "and I t promise to be docile in all elsd. Ah, I see Bertie. He has heard." , Yes, Bertie had heard; and Bertie, as ^ asual, could not hide his feelings as he rj gave Margaret messages of sympathy from the friends whose hearts were s oever more tryly hers than in thi6 hour r of her trouble. 1 CHAPTER XXIII. the shadow of death. Two days passed ?^d no change came. The sun lay worm and bright on the lawn outside. The birds 6un? their v same 6weet song. The "breath of flowers ^ perfumed the summer air, and the un- T equal battle between life and death still ? went on in the darkened room. Bertie sometimes sat up to relieve t Wilson and the nurse, but Margaret p gave way to none. "It is only the beginning," she said, 6 in answer to Wilson's expostulations. c '"Let me stay now. After awhile I wiil T sleep." And "Wilson, yielding, she ] spent three nights in a weary vigil, but t when the fourth came nature would g stand no more. v Sho could no longer endure the rav lngs of a delirium which brought the t past so sharply and vividly before her. ,? 1!?* 4v.? u OXIC VJUU1U XiWU Iiowu tv tilC 0IV4UCUU ^ S leadings for love in such weak and ^ roken sentences, nor hear her own re- t proach, so doubly cruel, repeated by his f unthinking lips. t "Oh, for the power to live it over k again," she cried in the anguish of her heart. "Oh, for one moment of con- g eciousness in which he might under- ), stand." fi The sleep Induced by bodily weariness u was deep and long, and it was quite late the next morning whtn Margaret reach- i) ed Brian's room. s "^Jeon met her with an encouraging 6 smile. "He has been very quiet," he said, noting the question in her eyes. "I managed to snatch several hours' sleep." a: The hours passed slowly. The silence si was unbroken except by the humming of ti the bees outside the window, for even a Brian's complaiuings were stilled for l'< the time. Once he murmured Margaret's 1< name and 6he felt hi6 eyes upon her face, but there was no intelligence in d them, only the dullness of delirium. c> After a little while he began once more d to give expressions to his fevered fan- Q cies. * It was always Margaret and the shad- J1 rttrr Haf-nraim thom ATnrfrarAt. rpnrnn.p.hina ** or repulsing him, or Margaret helpful and encouraging. E And Margaret could only sit and listen; though when his sharp cry rang t' through the silcnce of the room, "Mar- r; garet, I can't see you; where are you, j< Margaret?" she placed her head beside him, and answered In low, wretched ac- 6 cent9: g "Here, Brian; close beside you. Can't v you feel my hands? They are holding' n yours." i a Did her voice penetrate that dull n brain? For one second she thought so. But no. The heavy eyes turned from ^ her face. t] "Han-is! Who said hands? Oh, yes; I remember now. You said it, Margaret.| 0 Don't you know you said it? Your hand; p would be in mine. Do you?think of? the night? And I said?ah, I?said? f, what did I?say?" y His voice sank away in an unintel- q iigible muttering. A few seconds of ^ silence and his mind wandered again. a He was fighting his old battles now, and calling upon Margaret for sympathy' j, and help. h And in an anguish that could find no other expression, she buried h?r face j in the pillow bc6ide_him. T "I can't bear it, I can't bear it!" sr.e j cried, passionately. ^ "Bear it," repeated the weak voice, j "Bear it? Ah, no; I can't bear your contempt. You are?so hard; 60 hard?. upon me. No right to?reproach you. No right?at?all." Her head 6ank j. lower. She could find no answer to these bitter complainings. T Suddenly she felt a hand upon her ^ shoulder, and raising her miserable face r she saw Wilson standing over her. "Will you come out in the air for a i few moments?" he said, with quiet authority. "The weather is pleasant, j Thomas will take care of Brian." With a sort of mechanical obedience ( she followed him to the broad piazza,', where the pure air, warm sun and odor 1 of sweet flowers seemed doubly grateful after the close atmosphere of the 6ick room. ( He was silent for some seconds. Evi dently he found it difficult to put his ' thoughts in suitable language. ' She saw and understood his hesitation. "I know what you would say," she broke in, covering her face with her hands. "I know so well. You have heard Brian. You understand. And you must realize now what a hard, unkind, undutifui wife I've been. "What a " "Hush," he interrupted, in a strange voice. "I must not allow even your lips to say such unkind word6 ubuut youreeif. They are not deserved. You lay too much stress upon what he says, forgetting that it is only the raving of delirium. Brian has made me his confidant ?nd I feel that I can judge. "You cannot know all," she answered, pressing her hands together. "You ; cannot know of the hundred little thing9 i ?the motions, expressions, word6?all ] meaning so much. You cannot know of '-* T J- T-l- ? ho. , them, out 1 UU. iurj on: ?I?1.JO j fore me, and the last day?the very last , day?I Bpoke unkindly. I shall never forget it? never. I saw that it hurt "nirn. I intended to (ell him I was sorry. , I had no chance. They brought him j back so. Now he cannot know; he can* i not understand that I would suffer any 'pain for a moment of consciousness to < tell bim I am sorry. God will not granb me even that?not even that." , ' "Why will you think of all these ( things?" he asked, presently. "Is, it not ( Human to be a uttie unwind sometimes? 1 Then look at the other side also. < What you have done for Brian. We must not bewail the past, but go on I bravely to meet the future, promising ourselves always to do better and bet- 1 ter. You want to go in now?" i "Yes, Doctor. I feel stronger, and I J thank you." The days passed, bringing but little perceptible change in Brian's condition. But the crisis came at last. Gradually the fever spent itself, and the tired frame, wearied with its long struggle, 6ank into a stupor so deathlike that only the faint heart beats told that life was still there. Uargaret knew that tie would either waken with a new lease of life or pass Into that deeper sleep that knows no waking on this 6ide of eternity. She "watched and waited, and prayed for the ions; hours to pass. The shadows of night, which seemed to have held the anguish of years, gave pioee to the light of dawn. Ihe lines of blue grew deeper and deeper in the eust, the rim of the rising sun rested upon the bruW of ihe hills, and the distant crowing of a cogk, welcoming the open'ng day, came like a clarion note through the silence. it i ear. He turned I uneasily. Margaret was od her knees iu a second, a feeling half joy, half fear clutching at her heart. She bent her fa<;e cloie to hi6. _ Perhaps he realized her presence, for I le turDod again and moaned slightly. ( iis waking mind was struggling for | ompreheneion, his eyelids trying to ! hrow off the heaviness that held them j lown. At last they opened slightly, j hen wider, and their slow wandering ; ;aze fell upon Margaret's face, a face j rhite and drawn from long and anxious j patching, but revealing a story of love. Those eyes were not slow to read. "Thank God," murmured Brian, with j in effort to overcome his intense weakiess. "Margaret, you ? love me ? at ast?" With a cry of passionate joy she burial j ler face upon his breast. "Oh, Brian, so much! so much that I ould not live w.thout you." "Thank GoJ," he said again, in a coo^'filr qKavq a wVitcnor rpt j 'ibrating with such inexpressible happi- j less that it reached Wilson, as he stolo j ilently from the room. "Youjhave found your true place at last, ; ay darliug, ray wife. Your true resting ilace. It is a weak defense now." "It is my cho6en rest and support," > he answered, with brimming eyes, atehing and holding in its place the reak arm that had tried to clasp her so j io tt7qoL- nnw hilt. it. will JV XV AO nvua ~ >e strong soon.. Let me lean upon its trength always. Let me have your . leart, as you have mine, fully and en* irelr. Phi II ceald Uus uai? * rl?d to tell you tms, as I sat by yon uring those hours when you could not j inderstand; how often I laid my heart ipon yours, hoping you might hear its >eating, and maybe realize that it was ull of love for you! You did not know 1 ben, but you know now, and?you may [ ;i*s your wife." Brian could not speak, but his eyea IIpH -with finrnathinff strancrelv like ' ears, as she held her loving, blushing ace for the long, tender kiss he left pon her lips. Neither spoke again. With his hand n Margaret's, Brian was content to lie till until overcome by weakness he 1 lept. CHAPTER XXJ V. BA.CHEL'8 C0NTES8I0X. Brian at first was content to lie still I nd watch Margaret, but as he gTew ( troqger he would ask her to sing or : ilk to him, and then would she tell him gain and again of the bitter reg^t and jmorse which had filled those three )Hg miserable weeks. "How cruel I was," he whispered. "I id not know what I was eaying. I j ould never reproach you. You have j one more for me than I can ever speak f. Always my true, loyal wife. Always making sacrifices for me. It was j uch a dear, tender heart that I longed or just a tender spot in it." "A very proud heart," she correoted ently. " n?ianmntimoa And had it been a aousand times more proud I should foret it all in the joy of possessing It at 3.61." "You have possesBod it all the time," he confessed, burying her face from his lance. "It has been yours since we ' ere together at S'conset, Brian. I did ot realize it myself, but now I know, nd am glad of the suffering that taught le." "Ah, darling, that I have been bo ] lind. When you married me I bought " "Yes, Brian, so did I think. My sense f justice felt outraged by uncle Stehen^s will, and 1 persuaded myself bat 1 was marrying you iv luaa.*.- aucuuo | or that, and all the while my love for ou was pleading so much more elo- ( iuently than my love of justice. I have j ;ept it back so long I wish you to know j .11 the truth now." Hi6 eyes filled with an inexpressible oy, as he lovingly stroked her bowed I iead. "Rachel has made her confession at ast," he said, softly, "and Jacob would rillingly live over his sufferings again or the pleasure of hearing such sweet Fords. He is very happy now, for h^ i eels that this is his true wedding day, | md hie life lies betore mm. August was nearly gone, and he was inly able to sit in his chair and allow ler to wait upon him. They were together so one morning rhen a messenger arr.ved from The Cedars with a note for Margaret. She ead it hastily, and, with a radiant face ind the words "I am so glad," handed t to Brian. "Good news," he said, taking it from ler hand and reading the word6 aloud: "Another Bertie came somewhat unsxpectedly with the sun this morning. Vlice hopes you will pay your immedi. a rocnonts tn his lordshiD. "Bertie, Sr." "Bertie is evidently in the fifth heavoo )f delight." commented Brian. "Carry ny congratulations, Margaret. I suppose you are going." Margaret, of course, fell in love with :he tiny bit of humanity, and fully igreed with Alice that Cuthbert Barton luniur was a very fine-looking young nan. She even fancied she discovered i likeness to Bertie, though not u par;icularly striking one, as she told Brian ifterwanl. fipnteniber came in very cool and the nvigorating air seemed to infuse new .ife into Brian's veins. "You will not be able to Impose upon Be much longer," he said to Margaret, 3ne morning. "I'll be strong enough to rebel ugainst your tyranny soon." "As soon as you like, Brian," she answered, looking up from the roses she bad placed on tho table beside him. "I think I've played nurse long enough, [f you do not get well very soon you will grow so fat and lazy that I'll never L?e able to get you out of that chair." He looked up into the face, which tiad never seen.ed more sweet and lov*?.!?. and catchine her hand held it a prisoner within his own. "Never mind," he said, "wait until I im out of this for good. Then I mean to take my dear little nurse in hand ind make her fat and lazy, too. I want to see some roses in her white :-heeks." "I don't think you will ever be able to joax them there, Brian. It is not their element, but the nurse feels that slio desires some petting and coddling; sho has given you so much. What can ?he Jo for you now' Head?" "No," my dear; talk. I am a great trial, am i not?" "Oh, yes, a dreadful trial," sho returned with a half smile. "But," she added softly, "I could never do without my iruu. He caught her hand as she uttered the Inst words and drew her unresistingly to his knee. Then came a sharp and unexpe. ted interruption, in Bertie's voice: "Hello, there! I don't want to disturb such interesting proceedings, but 1 would like to know how so<m the public may t> Admitted. Such ?-ivilities " " You are extremely impudent," cried Margaret, startim; to her feet with a brilliant blush. "If you do not learn better manners I shall drop your acquaintance." "Please don't, ma'am, I need yourpro tection sadly. My respected father ha? just sent rue from his presence with a parting injunction to visit n certain gentleman who is credited with warm quarters. I prefered coming here. And, by the way, Brian, I've been commissioned to inform you that you hav? bei?n indulging your laziness long enough, and, therefore, you aro expected to pay your respects at The Cedars to-night. " 'Tell Margaret to c ome and bring her nusiwnu UldUg, uic "V?-40U1 mj venerable father. So, Margaret, please dojis xou are bid," i * * . "I wish you could ibe more ^Ugnifled, Bertie, f or a husband and u father you are sadly -wanting in that quality." For answer, Bertie laughed. "How . are you, old fellow?" he asked, taking Brian'6 hand. "Able to assert your1 authority?" ".sot quite. I've just teen warnin/j Margaret that the t.me is not far disj ^ lauf when 1 shall assume the reins of government.'' "She looks quite miserable over the prospect," returned Bertie, with his eyes on Margaret's laughing face. "I saw Wilson when I was in the city a day or two ago. He inquired very particularly about you, and Margaret al6o. told him you were doing finely, and that Margaret was as unmanageable as fever." ? "1 shall be revenged for that, sir. 1 Wa6 Dr. Wilson well?" 1 "I can't say he looked very well," an- < ewered Bertie, with some hesitation. ( "He works too hard, I think. He is : certainly very pale and thin." ""Why not write and Invite him here for awhile?" said Brian, turning to Mar- 11 garet. "This air would infuse new life 1 in his veins." < "He needs It certainly," observed Bertie. "He has not seemed quite natural for some time. I'm afraid he is losing hie old happy spirits." "We will ask him to come," said Margaret, quickly, "though I fear he cannot give ub any of his valuable time. When I think of what he has done for J-ou, Brian. I do feel so grateful to him, and I should like nothing so well as to ilnd him such a true, good wife as he deBerv?s." "Margaret turned matoh-maker," mused Bertie. "She becomes more in* tcresting and original every day. I will tell WilBon to get himself in readlhess, and meantime, my dear, I hope you will search diligently for the particular woman destined to become his blessing and torment at the same time. Now I mu6t be off. I suddenly remember that Alice sent me for some mixture for that young hopeful of ours, and if I don't hurry, he may bawl his head off." "You outrageously unfeeling man. If I bad known you were on any buch errand, you shouldn't have staid here a second. That poor little innocent may be actually suffering for his medicine." "No more than you, my dear," laughed Bertie. "It is simply the Barton temper asserting itself. Even father recognizes it, and while he accepts retributive justice in a meek and lowly spirit, it sometimes gives way to a mild ejaculation, such as 'thunder' when Bertie grows particularly demonstraHnnr/iror T'll OO f. t.hfl HfiPOCtion and say good-byto you until to-night." A day or so later, Margaret sent to' "Dr. Wili-on a warm and pressing Invitation to spend at least a few days atElm(wood. Wilson found the letter awaiting him when he reached his rooms after a: ' Jong day's work, and, though his fane >rightened at the sight of it, he did not i kccept the tempting pleasure offered, , and his regrets, not himself, found their way to Elmwood. The letter found a plac* In a corner of 1 his desk, and It was still there when J time had whitened his hair and his eyes I were dim from something more than | sweet old memories. CHAPTER XXV. | AFTER TWO YEARS. Two vears have passed, and brought their inevitable changes. The seasons have come and gone. The flowers have bloomed and died and bloomed again, and once more Elmwood is crowned in the full beauty of the month of roses. It is late in the afternoon, and for Borne time Margaret has been waiting Brian'6 coming. Her eyes are fixed alternately upon the long drive and upon the little face sleeping peacefully in her arms. Maternity, that perfect oompletion of woman's nature, has given her a new grace and dignity, and left upon her life the impress of a happiness that even the shadow of old sorrows cannot lessen. Indeed, the sorrows are never remembered, except in a philosophical sort of way, and in the realization of all that she hoped and expected she feels that - * * * 1 -J they nave Drougnian am jut* rewmu. '' Brian has fully redeemed his pledge, and, with a life full of higher and nobler purpose, is walking faithfully in his I father's fo itstepp, and winning the same honor and respact. | He comes home with a light heart this I evening, and seeing Margaret, leaps from his carriaee to take her in his arms and kiss the two faces with warm and tender love. "Are you very tired?" she asks, lookIn? into his eyes. "So, so. It has been ^arm in the village, but here It is quite delightful. Poor Mrs. Ellis is down a!?ain for good,; I fear, this time, anl Brown has an attack of influenza. He is more frightened than hurt. I think, and more trouble- | ieome than either. He fancies I am not giving him sufficient medicine, and insists on taking a double dose. His wife has quite a time with him. , "What have you been doing with yourself, Margaret? Not trying any of yesterday's experiments, I hope. Give ane Marguerite; she is growing quite jheavy. You must not try to carry her any more, dear. I will take her to Milly and we will walk to that hill to see the ?un set. It i6 really superb." When the baby had been given into ithe care of its nurse, Margaret linked [her arm in Brian's, and they walked toward the place he had pointed out. "I have a piece of news which will Jplease you, I know. Wilson has at last made up his mind to come to us for a [week. We may expect him about the 21st, he says." "I am so glad," Margaret answered,. 1 m.,c> mnl-n, Wlin genuine It-'enuy. nv muoi, muuv it such a delightful week that he will, want to repeat it. It is really quite curious, I think. But, do you know, I never naa sucn a strong desire to see any one married as I have to see hiru?1 1 know it would make such a happy1 difference in his life." "I suppose j*ou think that the only1 happy state for man?" ! "1 hope you do," she replied, meeting his laughing glance. "It should be, and, as a rule, I think it is; the exceptions are individual cases. To ray mind a poor, lonely old bachelor trying to persuade himself that he is fortunate in having escaped the evil of Jiatrimony is a most doleful and pitiable spectacle. Ah, how glorious!'' The last words were uttered as they reached the summit of the hill and th<> full splendor of tho sunset burst upon them. Thej* stood for a row seconds in silence, watching the globe of fire sinking in a s. a of golW. Then Margaret Stole more closely to his side with the words: "It seems to hold the peace of benoiiction, Hrian." "A benediction," he repeated, slipping his arm about her waist and holding her to his heart. "Ah, may we always feel the peace of such a benediction, darj ling. May we always stand together as wo are standing now, through better f and through worse; ever firm in each other's trust; ever strong in each other's love. And when our suns snail set, may our skies be as calm and as tranquil as this glorious one before us. ?Oh. tranquil sunset of the soul, When all the Jar of earth Is past; When storms no longer round us roll, And heaven Is near at ihm , We know, thounb fail and faint we may. Calm suiiset ends tho longest day." [the end.] SWEDEN'S SHOW. \ i nternational exposition at 1 STOCKHOLM NEXT MAY. 1 ( 1 Flie Four Northern Countries, Swe- { den, Norway, Denmark and i Finland, Will Join tc I Make It a Success, ( ONE of the leading events in : Enrope next summer will be ] the great Scandinavian Ex- : position, which opens in l+n/tlrVs\lm TlPXt MftV. tC COn* ;inue until October. For almost the irst time in history the four northern countries?Sweden, Norway, Denmark ind Finland?speaking in part a com- : mon language and having for over fif- I teen centuries been historically connected, both as allies and foes, having a close relationship in the folk-lore, J INDUSTRIAL AND MANUFACTURES Bt traditions, poetry, music and the traits that distinguish the descendants of the old Norsemen?are found united as one Nation for a peaceful rivalry in the pursuits of art, science and industry. The distinguishing trait of tho Scandinavian character in reflection, and the idea of tbis exposition, the greatest and most complete ever planned in any European country, with the exception of the Paris expositions, has required more than OSCAR II., KINO OP SWEDEN*. twenty-five years to find a realization, it having been first suggested in 1870. During this quarter of a century it has been talked about, written about, been the pet subject of royalty, statesmen, artists, men of affairra and the people generally. The promoters hove had a herculean task before them. National jealousies and idiosyncrasies bad to be overcome, a thousand and one objections arose, but finally every was smoothed over and plans and details agreed on. The beauty of the bnildiDgs ns they are now rapidly assuming form, the situation of the exposition and the enthusiasm shown by the Nationalities interested, all make promise that the exposition will be in every way a success. It is no exaggeration to state that the influence of the World's Fair at Ch'cago on the future expositions of a similar nature in Europe in an architectual sense can never be fully estimated. Of the large expositions Bince the World's Fair closed which have taken place or are to take place in Europe at a future date?the Bordeaux, the Buda-Pestb, the Berlin, the Malmo, the Swiss, and now the Stockholm Rmnaritinn?all show in their artistic and architectual planning a certain indescribable influence from the white dream city of 1893, while still adhering to each country's individual taste in art. In former European expositions the rule was to gather everything under one roof, but now they seem to recognize the idea that separate buildings, while increasing the preliminary expenses, add to the beauty and attractiveness of the expositions and also increase the revenue. At Stockholm the Industrial and Manufactures Building will occupy a space of 500 square feet. The towers it ^4^22 " ART PALACE AND MACHINERY I will have a height of ll>0 feet, two of them being provided with elevators. The other buildings?such as the Art Palace, the Northern Museum, the Electrical, Military, Naval, Historical, Mines, Horticultural, Agricultural and Transportation Buildings?will all be of a eizo to give u harmonious appear ince to the whole group of buildfngfl. E Che Art Palace and the Fishery Build- ei ng are already completed; the Mann* p: 'actures BuildiDg aod Machinery Hall el will be finished before winter sets in, w ind the remaining buildings will all ft je completed before next March. The t] grounds will be laid out with all the e: skill of the landscape gardener's art T lided by nature. e Another important event of the ex- tl position period will be the dedication o Df the new Royal Opera House, a mag- d nificent structural pile, even in com- v parison with the Grand* Opera House ti in Paris. Stockholm has been called p the Venice of the North; and, in o truth, no capital in Europe is more o beautifully situated. The exposition fi has been placed in the handsomest part of the suburban park-like snr- li roundings. In a general view of the C Stockholm-Exposition the beauty of a the location is at once seen. With its S two sea fronts, one on the Deergarden c Park Sound and the other on the salt p r s fftiiilh WK?" j riLD ING?STOCKHOLM EXPOSITION. J - J water of the Gulf of Bothnia, and its ! charming continuance to the royal ] park of the Deergarden, it will be not alone an exponent of Scandinavian art and industry, but also an exponent of Swedish landscape nature for which Stockholm is celebrated throughout Europe. The exposition will have two principal entrances, one by the new boulevard over the Deergarden Bridge, and the marine entrance from the harbor. ^ ? Xlii-k T> nrvomr/lon AT!. UOEQILlg ill KJJ l HO .ucci^ui uvu vm trance, a vast plaisance laid out with lawns, fountains, and flower beds j meets the eye. Straight ahead in the far distance is seen the picturesque ' front of the Manufactures Building, with its towers and dome. Broad avenues cross the plaisance, leading to the various places and buildinge. On a terrace close by the idyllic sound is situated the principal restaurant building. Following the sound promenade to Framnae, the Fishery Building is seen, and a more suitable place could not have been found. Built partly in the sound, it is surrounded by a pontoon bridge, forming a charming marine promenade. Further out in the sound has been constructed an artificial cavern on the bottom of the j 6ound, which will be one of the great , attractions of the exposition. Descend- j ing to the bottom of the cavern the J visitor will, through the electrically , lighted waters, through the windows , of the cavern, obtain an insight ioto , the existence of the fauna and the liv- ( ing creatures of the deep. ; The Art Palace will no doubt be architectuallv the most beautiful of , CROWN' PRINCE OP SWEDEN. : the buildings. Erected in Moorish ( style, its marble-like walls reflected , in the grand canal at its side, with its , rich mural decorations, and the contrasting with its close neighbor, the Machinery Hall, it will form an attractive architectural group. The interior of the Art Palace in the space reserved for sculpture, will be laid out us a tropical garden, in which the murble treasures will find a suitable j [ALL,?STOCKHOLM EXPOSITION. I ~ ~ I frame, doing away with the conventional museum-like appearance. From the garden pillared entrances will lead to the rooms reserved for pictures. The art exhibition will be universal. The most famous French, Italian, German, English and American artists will be represented. Prince * - ? . ngene, Duke of Nerike, the youn^B it son of King Oscar, himself rominent landscape painter, ifi aief of the art section, and recentl^^a hile in Paris be met some of the mo^H imous of the American painters, arJ^fl ley made the Prince the promise shibit at Stockholm nest snmmej^H he Prince also stated that he intenc^H d to visit the United States dcrin^H tie fall to invite American artists an^H wners of private galleries to exhib^H uring the exposition. The Prince ery democratic in his manners an^H astes, and, while he may visit Ne\i^H ort, he will expect to be receive^H nly as a private gentleman, frowmn?| n all attempts to 'make fo?S an^H eatbers of his royal rank. Dm The exposition will also have a poHj itioal significance, as next year Eint^H )scar will celebrate the twenty-fiftl^B nniversary of his reign as ruler o|H iweden. The jubilee will be the oc^H ooion a orrn.r?<l dflmoniiitration on th^H iffrt of the Swedes, and also by the^J oyal families cf Europe, who have alH ignified their intention to visi^J :tockholm during the jubilee period^B King Oscar has, of course, taken ;reat interest in the exposition, bothM .s an artist and as the ruler of theH onntrv. As Director-General of theH xpositioD, the King appointed Mr.H Arthur Leffler, the royal Swedish Com-fl aiseioner to the World's Fair. ThaH President of the exposition is Baronfl Famm, the Governor-General offl Stockholm, and the Secretary is thefl roll Vnrtujn i/inTTm.1ififc. Thore Blanche.^1 In the United States thousands oi Swedes are making arrangements tc rieit Sweden during the exposition. )f the societies going over, the most mportant will be the American Unioi >f Swedish Singers, of which Lyran >f New York, and the Glee Club, o Brooklyn, are prominent members Che President is Mr. Charles K fohansseo, editor of the Swedish news japer in New York, Nordstjernan Che union will be the official bearer >f congratulatory addresses to Kinj Dscar from the Swedish-Americans.? !tew York Times. 'Largest Man in the World. Mr. Wilkins, an American who rc <oTitlv orViihitflfl liimRelf in the Or 'V*"V ~? ? ? shenm, the most fashionable variet; theatre in Vienna, has been pro aonnced by the anatomists of the Vi ;nna University, with Dr. Zncket sandl at their head, the largest mai oi whose size there was a ecientifi record. Especial weight is given t THIS MAN IS EIGHT FEET TAIX. _ B ibis declaration of the Vienna profes-j jors because the Vienna Anatomicafl Museum possesses the largest humanfl skeletons, and the founder of this in-fl jtitution, the late Eofratb LangerJ ind his successor, Dr. ZackerkandlA ire considered the highest authorities! on the subject of giants. They pro-H aonnced Mr. Wilkins remarkable, nofl only on account of bis great size, bufl also because his development is enfl tirely normal, while, as a rule, giantA are not well proportioned and they of! ben buffer from 6ome weakness. Iifl parting the professors told him that he would examine the skeletons of th^| museum he would soon be convince^! of his own superiority. The horroi^B of the grave need never worry hiu^l for, unless he makes special provisioSB igainst it, his skeleton is most certai^^H ly destined to ornament some anato^H ical museum. He is eight feet tal^| and our engraving gives a very go<^| idea of his height, for here he is shov^H standing beside his impresario, a m^Hj five feet ten inches tall. A Rainbow Face. Hfl A strange case in which local dc^H tors, as well as scientists from the eu^H rounding country, are interested LUat Ul VJOUICUV UiUibU) vuivi VW| Belvidere, N. J., who drives the pu^H lie ice wagon at that place. Ae t^H sky changes the face of the color^H man takes on a different hue, and it^H said that his face is slowly assumiBB the hues' and colors of the rainbc^H The doctors who have examined t^H man say they are puzzled, and only explanation they can give for strange freak of nature is that it^H caused by the chemical action of sun's rays on the ice which is handj^^H by Smith daily. Mrs. Smith, mother of the young man, tried wash the lines from his face, but co^^J not do so. She is superstitious, ber husband, and fears 6omethin^^H lioiinon tr> her Eon. but^HS Sul"iS >.*> ? ? goes about liis work as usual,^^^H minding the attention he is attra^^^H ?Chicago ChronicJe. We Eat loo Much A writer in one of our medi(^^H^H nals calls attention to the fact^^^KH excessive use of salt is a most dietetic error, and vet one^^^^H curiously, is seldom referrei^^^^^J writers upon dietetics. The^^^^^J sion drawn from observatioifl^H^^fl by Boussingault is that the^^H^H chloridc of sodium, or comn^^^^^fl by human beings is rather a Vinhit. than of necessity. naturt^^^H probably exhibited the same in regard to the amount of chlorid^^H sodium placed in our food as reference to the other salts requiflH by the system. 1 Emperor William's latest fad telegraphy, and he is spending sev^^f hours a week learning to send n^^| sages by dots and dashes. He has^BE ready made considerable progrets^BB an operator of the key ffi - 1 ^