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HnmH Florence V> Ij^^Aufhor of-"The Mouse fl? I Copyright, 1895, Iry I W CHAPTER XVIII. E Continued. was about eight o'clock that night fn they learned that a schooner had Ke ashore in the bay itself, within mile of the inn. She had lost her lering-gear in the storm, and the Ice of the wind had driven her upon le sands at the edge of the marsh. It as high tide when the disaster hapbied, but it was thought that the I Hup was in no danger of breaking up, Hid that her crew would all be got off safety as the tide went down. The Ce-boat from Courtstairs was already Bi its way to the wrecked vessel when Hie news came to the inn. I Through the snow, which the wind lew straight into their faces, Nell Ind half a dozen of her neighbors Inade their way across the marsh, the pfcn carrying ropes and lanterns and Itho women restoratives for the halffrozen crew. It was a long and weary mile. The ground was hard with frost, the snowdrifts were already getting deep; the flares set burning from time to time by the crew of the wrecked ship flickered uncannily In the darkness whenever the snow ceased for a short time. But the journey was not a fruitless fnl -' o/infn narc r|OHll out. J. lit; liitfli Ul LUC DCUlm CI o Kp themselves for the most part, and all j|V used to the sea, succeeded, up to their waists iu water, in launching a boat Hi and bringing the crew safely to land. W The men were so benumbed by the U cold that they had to be helped along J as they limped and stumbled over the snow to the inn. There, however, they were soon restored through the kind* ly offices of a host of willing hands. Every creature in the neighborhood had heard, by this time, of the unusual event of a ship wrecked m their own bay. and it was through quite,a r large crowd that the sailors made their way into the little Blue Lion. Even Mrs. Lansdowne, the wife of the most prominent country gentleman of the neighborhood, had heard of the new excitement, and had driven over, having picked up the colonel and ./ Miss Bostal on her way. On hearing that there was little hope of saving i the schooner, and that in any case the ^ sailors would lose their kit, Mrs. Lansl downe put into George Claris's hands, for the benefit of the men, a sum of money which at once became the starting point of a collection, to which most of the crowd contributed something. - Even the colonel, whose poverty was Droverbial. irave a shillinir. although ^ his" daughter watched his hand with >- anxious eyes as he volunteered the m^L coin. Altogether between live and six pounds was collected; and < George Claris tied the money up in a canvas bag. and locked it up in the till be. hind the bar. There were whispers in the crowd that George Claris's house wrs not the safest place in the world <' to keep money in. but even the wliis3^.' I perers had no doubt of the honesty of - ? Claris himself, while many were even Y~': 1 K^d of the opportunity of showing *' * .'5- tbeir confidence in a man who had uu r '>*? . doubtedly beeu for some time under U-.-*" a cloud. It was Nell, however, who watched this proceeding with the deepest auxV.;f " iety. Her agitation was so evident, as she stood just within the doorway whiehl^d from the bar to the back of r, the inn, staring at her uncle, that one or two of the crowd looked at each other significantly. Suddenly the girl took a few rapid steps forward and touched the innkeeper's arm. tv "Uncle," sakl she, in a low voice, :p ' "Uncle George, wouldn't it be better to seud the money into Stroan by?" She glanced at the men who were ^ crowding in. and noticed one of the tradesmen of the town, "bv Mr. Para I mor?" I* *r Her uncle frowned, and Mr. ParaI * mor shook liis head, with the kindly intention of showing George Claris that his friends were on his side. "? 1 "No, no, Miss Claris, leave it where it is, where it'll be ready to hand," ^ said he. As Nell drew back, without a word, 9^^^. -- but with a curious look of constraint Mm and trouble on her face, a little tigure "\v: appeared at the door, and in her prim tones Miss Bostal, whom no emergency could induce to step over the threshbold of an inn, called to her: ' "Nell, Nell, come out here, and speak to me." Nell looked at her, hesitated, and was on the point of disappearing into the interior of the house, when Metr. '. > who was passing towards the bar-parB? Jor, with a tray full of hot drinks, offi^ oiously dragged her forward with one Eaf strong hand, while she carefully balg? anced the glasses on the tray with the m ,' f HU . J|^^^B^^Hieodora, don't you loud HnB9w^^BMffi|m3^SHfl3^KaAtelthat :rt- oF-TH.e i&PaipE ; Tati |, S^^'"'t:miu||i''ll'W' 1 /ardent ' on ihc Aarstu" etc- , tobert Bonner's Sons. 1 was hardly sufficient protection against j the falling snow. 1 "You had better get Into the car- i rlage, Miss Theodora," suggested Nell, i coldly, ignoring the lady's question. j "But I want an answer first, my j dear. Never mind the snow. I only shiver because I am not used to the ] night air. You know I never go out after sundown, and not often before." ( But Nell would give her no answer. And Miss Theodora, when she was at i last constrained to get into the car- ] rlage then, regretted to Mrs. Lnns- 1 downe that London had spoiled her dear little girl. i It was now past closing time at the j inn, and George Claris, with great dif- j ficulty, was clearing his house of its crowd of customers. Those three of i the sailors who liad suffered most ] from cold and exposure were to spend ] the night under his roof, while the ] rest were taken to Stroan by newfound friends who offered them hospi- < tality. George Claris locked up his l house, having already sent his niece ] and Meg to bed; and, thoroughly tried < out, went up to his own room. 1 He had had a very hard day, and he < had finished up with an extra glass of rum and water. The consequence was that he fell off to s'leep as soon as he i sat down on the edge of his bed to ' take his boots off, and did not wake ( up until some hours later, when he sat ( up suddenly, and remembered, at the : moment of waking, that he had for- ! gotten to take the money, both his < own takings, and the collection for the sailors, out of the till in the bar. ] Opening the door of his room softly, ( in nrrlof nn+ tr> rTistlirh tllf> slpptlprs. he ' went down stairs. ] It was half past five on the following morning when the nearest neigh- i bors were startled by a loud knocking at their door, followed by the abrupt i inrush of Meg, the inn servant, in a i state of frantic excitement. "Oh, come, some of ye; do come! There's been awful doings in our i house!" she cried, scarcely articulate i between her fright and want of breath. "There's somebody hiding in ] the bar, and I can't get him out; and i Mr. Claris is nowhere to be found; and Miss Nell's fainted when I told i her; and, oh, dear, do come!" ] The woman whom she was address- i ing was at first too much alarmed to ] come; but two men, who were not far i off. hearing the commotion, offered to go back with Meg, and in a few inin- i utes the whole party were at the inn. ] There was somebody behind the bar, certainly?somebody down on the < lloor. The men stood hesitating at the j door. The sounds which came to their ears from behind the bar were more like the gruutings and growlings of a | beast than the voice of a man. "It's not a man you've got there. 1 It's an animal," said one of the men. And shouldering the pitchfork he was carying, he made a dasn into the 1 building. But as he entered, a wild figure sprang up from behind the bar and faced the intruder, glaring and raging. It seized one of the earthenware jugs which stood on a shelf against 1 the wall, and brandishing it above i his head, gave forth an unearthly j howl. vviiU JS ill >\ iiui is it: ouvauieu Meg. ' i "Stand back! stand back!" roared the creature, stamping and whirling its 1 arms about. "Stand back! I won't be robbed! I'H serve you ms I've served ] it?as I've served the devil! the devil! ' the devil!" 1 And with more stamping, more i shouting, the creature hurled the jug, 1 aiming at the head of the intruder. Lt was dashed into a thousand pieces against the door, which shook and rat- > tied under the 'blow. ' "Why, it's?it's George Claris himself!" faltered the second man, who kept outside, too much alarmed to go beyond the door. "Master?" cried Meg, indignantly. ' Whv hp rlmi't rirink' Hp'r ns ?nlipv a man as there is in the place!" She was sobbing, and trembling, and clinging to the iuan. "He ain't drunk," replied the man shortly. "He's gone mad, my girl. Look at his eyes." And as the girl looked fearfully through the window at her unhappy master, she could not doubt the truth of the man's words. At eleven o'clock on the previous night George Claris had been as sane as any in the country. At six o'clock in the morning he was a raving madman. CHAPTER XIX. Tt wnc limit n mnntli nftar thf> chin wreck which brought such strange consequences to the Blue l-ion and Its inmates that Clifford King, much against his will, found himself, for the first time that winter, at a dance. He . detested dancing, never accepted an jL^itation to a ball if he could help it, ffl^tneyer turned up if he found himBglllgtaA^led to accept. HHSB9ffi^Kntertainmcnt was an exHHBffiQj^^Lbeing given in honor of BWMs98^^of Otto Conybeare's the mines laid for BlHElB&^H^^Messful. however, pretty one liiwself s?-S/?%.~f&*^"v\Vff^>T^- 'J jy~ ' j^v. had had no opportunity of getting hold of Otto, or of apy one who could tell him who she was., Otto came straight toward him. "I want to introduce you to Miss Lansdowne," said he. Lansdowne! The name was quite unfamiliar to Clifford. But as soon is he was introduced the puzzle cp.me lo pieces. "I wanted so much to know you, Mr. King," said the girl, who was jleasant, unaffected and amiable-looking. "I can see you don't know me, ind yet I know you very well." "That Is not quite fair," said Clifford. "I do remember your face perfectly well; it is your name only ivhlch is unfamiliar to me. I am certain I have never spoken to you in ny life; you may be sure I should lot have forgotten if I had." "I live near Stroam," said Miss Lansdowne. fMiffnrrt started, and his face cloud ?d. "I have often seen you aDout there," svent on the girl, "and I know intimately more than one of your friends there." "I ha^e no friends there now," said Clifford, with a sudden change to grave bitterness in his voice and manner. "Well, you had friends there at one time, I think. Miss Bostal and her Father, the Colonel, would, I am sure, be rather hurt to know that you no longer reckoned them as your friends." "The Bostals! Oh, yes," answered Clifford, indifferently. "I know them, but Miss Bostal would hardly reckon tne as a friend. I lost my place in her ?steem, if I ever had any, by walking from Courtstairs to Stroam on a .Sun lay in a tourist's suit" Miss Lansdowne smiled. "Slie is an odd little creature," she said, "but she has a very good heart. To hear her deplore the disappearance sf a young girl whom she was fond 3f and kind to," and Miss Lansdowne looked steadily away from Clifford as 5he spoke, "no one could doubt the ilepth of her feelings." Clifford was silent for a few moments. Then he glanced at the face | ot the girl beside him, saw that it in- | nted confidence, and guessed that her last words had been carefully chosen, i "You mean that Miss Claris has dis- j appeared?" ' aes. iou nuu ueuiu auuui n, x j suppose?" she asked, with a pretense 1 of indifference. "Of course." "And that nobody knows more than this?that she and her uncle have gone iway?" Clifford answered, with scarcely a pretense on his side of concealing the ' emotion he felt: "I went down to the place myself, saw the house shut up. deserted, and found that nobody could tell me more than this?that George Claris had gone ' mad, and that he was 111 an asylum; and that his niece had gone away at the same time. If you can tell me anything more, I shall be very grateful to you." "I doif't know any more than you do. 1 One can only guess?or repeat tho guesses of others." "Well, let me hear the guesses." "They say?people think?that the girl has been shut up, too." "In an asylum?" asked Clifford, laardly able to control his voice. "Yes." "I don't believe it!" said he, hoarse- 1 ly. "Well, Isn't it better than believing -anything else?" "Believing?that she is a thief, a?" 1 Clifford could not go on. "Do you know what happened on 1 that morning when George Claris was ' found mad?" asked Miss Lansdowne, abruptly. "The woman at the nearest cottage told me the story," he answered, shortly. jliiu sue it'ii you? miss musuunuc hesitated?"that Miss Claris fainted when they told her what had hap- i pened to her uncle, and that they found under her pillow?a canvas bag i containing the money collected for some shipwrecked sailors the night hefore?" Clifford's face changed. i "No." said he at once, in the tone of a man -who has made up his mind on i some weighty point, "they did not tell me that." "It is true, though. After that, who 1 could doubt the girl's guilt?" "I could," said Clifford, quietly. "And one other person?Miss Bostal. And you are both equally unreasonable." To he Continued. How About the Merry Maskers? iiow orten ao we near me urj, ma only tlie Latin races who possess the true spirit of the masquerade." With it goes the kindred complaint, "AngloSaxons are too cold to enter into the true spirit of the masquerade." But what is "the true spirit of the masquerade?" I have sought for it vainly. I have even failed to find it in full elllorescence among the Latins. In Latin countries the carnival is declining. Where it still prevails among them it seems to be kept up for commercial reasons. Where it has been imported into Anglo-Saxon countries, it blends with our civilization about as fitly a? (loos a wane nour-sucis patch on a miner's blue overalls. Was the carnival always such a merry, merry time' Were there no thiu-legged men in '.he days of doublet and bose? Were there aforetime no ladies afilieted with fatty degeneration of the ankles? Did nobody get drunk? I Were there no fights? Did the men who &>t slugged by merry maskers hit back? Or did they turn the other cheek? 'Was there any lockup? Did the lock-up get full? And how ft bout the Tjnerry maskers??Argonaiit. rnlilrnf* a Rcnifi of Humor. If you are fortunate enough to have even the germ of a sense of humor, cherish that carefully. It is the very salt and savor of life. Learn to smile fercr the foibles of your friends, loving none the less, but more, because little weaknesses. Do not HH^>Ie <00 seriously, and. above yourself too seriously. MH^^an atom in an incompreafte: all. Why find BflBj^^^M^^brlef moment witlL side^^tfl A Cartoonist's /fljl fW '. A^n DOOOOCOOCCOOOOCCOOOOOCOOCO | Wonderful Brain Work. | 3 Mail Clerks' Memories Heavily Taxed q SOOOGOOQOOOOOOOOODOCOOOOGO ?ILLIONSof people are complaining nowadays of being taxed financially, but an array of men in tlie employ of Uncle Sam are burdened with a mental practice unheard of, ns regards extent, in any other country of the world. Things that a railway postal clerk must remember have increased in such volume that one would think every cell of Ills Drain wouiu oe nuea wua me name of a postoffice or railway connection. and the wonder is that the clerk's mind does not falter under the pressure. Despite these facts cases of insanity among this class of public servants are rare. One Chicago postal clerk maintained for several years a record of 21,000 cards (which take the place of letters In examinations) with an average per cent, of correct distribution of a fraction over ninety-nine per cent. He knew how to reach that many offices In several States by the shortest, quickest route, and he knew the correct location of each office in its State. A clerk on the New York and Chicago Railway postoffice must know the correct location of every postoffice in a group of States made up of Illinois, Iowa, Wisconsin, Indiana, Minnesota, South Dakota and Nebraska. In these seven States there are 12,317 post offices. Not only is the clerk required to be "up" on the general scheme, which means the correct location of the postoffices* in each State, but he must know how to reach the whole 12,000 postoffices from one or more Btations. A clerk running between Chicago and Minneapolis underwent no fewer than seveniy-eigbth examinations in fifteen years, learning 13,300 offices in fifteen different sections of the United States. In some of these examinations he was required to make a Chicago city distribution, which means that while running over the country at. the rate of a mile a minute he must distribute letters to the carriers of the Chicago delivery. He must keep not only where every public building and leading mercantile house is located, but also how to divide the numbers on a particular street, so that he can "tie out" his letters to the correct carrier, according to the route of the latter. This same clerk made thirteen examinations in ten months, with an average correct distribution of 99.88 per cent. In twenty examinations he came out of nine of them with a clear 100 per cent. eacb. Think of such a task, taking into consideration the puzzling similarity rrr ffil pi ?Ss3? ' BAILWA^POS^"L -C^EBE T . ^ ^ i of names that are used to designate postofflces. Then, too, must he considered the fact that there are hundreds of cases where In each Slate is a /postoffice of the same name. For instance, in the States foamed above thedj are Hamiltofc, six fourJHierab, flHH Idea of ijefj ;CROp "WipF NICKEL IN m'i riE SLOT r a "vzwLurioUjk TIME YOU J^Sgji ANT IT, ABOUT THE SIZE OFfr. four Smithyilles, four Spartas i<J five JefEersons and so on. In sfae instances there is a postofflcebf the same name in each of the sevefstates. As one may imagine, this oi? tends to confuse the average mind, t Periodically the clerks are 'iamined at railway mail headquarter,' packs of cards, each card bearing ae name of a postoffice, are; furnisheca candidate for examination. He t^es a position in front of a case f pigeon holes labeled with the name 0f different railway postoffices throghout the country. He "throws" the .ards, distributing them to proper xutes, just as he would packages i: a postal car. After he finishes th examiner goes over the cards and cbi;ges up the errors' the clerk has mad' and gives him his percentage of corrct distribution. The clerk is also (jamined on general and "standpoint' station schemes at different timef It is asserted at railwiy mail service headquarters that tht-e are clerks who have reached the canity of their minds in the matter of remembering names. They now remember so many that it would be absolueiy impossible to learn another State or part of a State. It would seem tJat 0f the millions of cells ill their b^in machinery none are left to fill, aj having been taken up in the prosecition of the exacting duties imposed by their occupation.?Chicago Reeoifl.Herald. Principle of Magic Squ?rM Made Plan. Magic squares of numbers in which the figures adcLj ^ perpendicular, horizontal or dia3onai rows make the same sum are fr>und in books of puzzles, but the principie on which they are based is ne>er given. There is a principle and it is applicable without limit, ^rom one square 17 1 8 15 J 23 5 <7 14 16 i 4 6 ^3 20 22 ro 12 jig 21 3 II 18 las a 9 to any odd Hunger of squares indefi nitely; For illustration' twenty-flv< squares are sivAn, and tlie sum of eacl of its rows of ifigures perpendicularlj horizontally orIjjag0nally is sixty-fiv< Now for t>J vuie. Always writ your numbe/Bconsecutively, diagor ally, upwar?e?0 the rjgfct> if tha direction cyou outside of th :S C! JDEIPg^^^^ATION. BquWes, then /go to the opposite end theBow at which you stand. It j. re{* a squaJ^ that ijt occupledrGr t u^JjWr rightliand corner, then drop one ?Fro the New YorkTrlbuhe^^HHj lrcalates Warm Air. Most ptple put away their elec^BK fans in thfall, thinking they will ifln 110 furthe use for them untilfl^B warm we.her arrives in the spflRKE but we slw here a simple arnflHHj ment whic makes it possible toj^BSH ize the eleVic fau for blowing well as coi air. It is the invtiSBHj of Edwin lPortor, and can to heat rot]3 and offices vffijJ&BKm there is a gcjet handy. It al^flgH the air in emulation about tlii9H9fl instead of a>wing it to remijv^H^B and dead allay. In this ap[P^^SB the frame oiruard which suS^^HBB the blades of te fan is of holl^'^DB| ing, and is ejected with a f5 by a rubber ^e. The framfljflEgH perforated at tervals the gagflBnO nited as it flcj from the the resultant It being driven^^^HH the room by ? action of heater especially attachmei^MHH GAB HEATER THE FAN. EH thermo-electric fan. Ichrunssold^H < with the aid of the i generating it^H own current for rot^ the fan, buH| I tho frnme can be re-e tHl any electric fan wi\jUt Hlstoiic Place ol,rtiiIp. It has been ascertainthat the firsfl| Protestant church erec west of Mississippi River is stHmd^ nea^B Jackson, Cape Girardegounty, Mo^H being used now as a ba,rn. jt wo^fl built of logs, in 1806, a Baptit^H congregation, and wasgg kD0W|Mp ONCE A. CHURCH, NOW A v^flRj * as Bethel Church, having tionH e years the distinction of being]O^^B - bouse of Protestant worshipst^^J the river. Rev. David Cireen.w^^* of Virginia, was its pastor death, in 1809. The Louisia Times suggests that the bu&tiS^M moved to St. Louis and madia j of the Louisiana Purchase Exnstf^B Street Aid In Accident*. The municipal authorities of^B are experimenting with a unique sV equipment for rendering promptH 10 the injured. It is described as iS like a letter box pillar, and con^B - a folding stretcher, a few medi>^H r bandages, etc. in oruer iu gci u> R- objects it is necessary to brea^H K glass, as when "calling" a fire ei^H jj In ibis way the key of the cas^H Jf access to a telephone inside com^H ?j eating the ambulance service a^H g taincd. This would obviate at^H $ the necessity of hunting up S? phone and a policeman, in 2 I give aid to a case of accidej^^H { now necessary. ^mSB f ' A Power In Town .>; A newspaper whose I flow with ads. of busine^^^^Bl I more influence in attracti^^^pHj i. to, and building up, a of than any other agency