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.?YQpftviuj ENQUfl^i^' ^ lewis jvi. grist, proprietor.J Jjiulcpciuifnt ^uiiilj .^Jcitrapitpcr: <^|or the |)roiiiotioii of tht ^olititnl, ^ocinl, ^griculfurat and (if oinnterciitl Jntertsfs of the Jsouth. |TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL. 36. YORKVILLE, S. C? WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15, 189Q. NO. 4=2. VI.?CHECK J TO THE WRONG ONE? By PAULINE HALT* Illustrated by Miss ALICE M. LOVETT. [Copyright. All rights reserved.] " . As Henry Henshall went into Steinway hall he caught sight of Dr. Watson standing over at the right hand entrance. Their fee met, and each felt that it was war to v?%l#n Vnf moon fLam UW AUUO WVWfTWU VMVUA. "What rascality is he up to now?" the goung artist muttered to himself, as he followed his frleud into the hall. It was well filled. The new violinist had been thoroughly advertised. It was claimed that she was the "greatest of her sex in the use of the violin, and that Ole Bull, Joar chim or Sarasate could not bring more clear and passionate tones from the instrument." Henry Henshall read this on the programme with a smile. The concert was well on in the second half, and a woman was singing a solo when they entered. The next number was by Schumann, and was to be by the brilliant "Louise Neville." The hall was bo fall that Henshall's friend said they would stand in the rear, as it would be a bother to go way down to -the front of the house where his seat was, and besides he wished to remain with Henshall, who had only purchased an admission ticket S The young artist's attention was distracted by his reveries on Dr. Watson. "I must .get Mrs. Smith to make a charge against him that will lead to his arrest if it becomes necessary to protect my ideal from him. But she must still be under his fascinations, for she wishes to avoid this if possible." * At this moment the applause drew his attention to the stage. The audience had evidently been carried away by Miss Neville's playing, for they were greeting her appearance for the Schumann number with that hearty clapping of hands which is the artist's most cordial and inspiring greeting from the public. He glanced at the beautiful girl, who advanced wun a aigmnea manner 10 cue front of the stage, slightly smiling her recognition of the greeting which had been given to her. One glance told him that Louise Neville was his ideal of the Wagner car. The fair face was that which had haunted him bo constantly, waking or sleeping. "Give me your glass for a moment," he * exclaimed excitedly to his friend, almost snatching it from his hand. He leveled it straight at the girl's face. She had put the violin under her chin, and the fingers of her left hand were lightly touching the strings. Yes! It was sh& The dream of the artist soul stood !<efore him, fairer than he had imagined. She was dressed very simply in a gown of white satin, with a large sash of white silk at her slender waist. He felt a thrill of delight! She seemed nearer to him than ever. The purpose which he had sworn In the Wagner car, when it seemed so wild and impossible to carry out, now seemed to the excited young man a very easy matter. ' He felt that her position as a public or professional performer argued some difficulty in her family, and he was vot slow to think that in this way the beautiful girl had sought to escape from the hateful Dr Watson. The next moment he was entranced. A strain of music of the most delicious sweetness streamed from her bow as she lightly swept it over the nut brown in strument wbicb sue beld. so caressingly. Henshall was passionately fond of music. He bad beard her wonderful playing in the car, and It had held him in thrall, but that could not be compared to this. Edna was inspired by the occasion to her best effort. In the inspiration of the moment she forgot all but her art. The dainty melody of the great German floated on the air like a lullaby sung by one spirit to another. As Bhe went on he felt that some occult Influence was at work within the girL Instead of the free, spontaneous movement and the entire absorption in the composition there seemed a tense, nervous agitation in the performer which betrayed itself to him he hardly knew how. The tempo was quickened, and the bow seemed to bite into the catgut, while her smooth forehead contracted into a faint frown, her nostrils dilating slightly now and then. Was she going to be overcome at the moment of her triumph? Could nervousness be asserting itself now after she had triumphantly conquered her public, and when the house was hanging breathless on her playing? He felt in himself a sense of discomfort, which he was attributing purely to his sympathy with the young girl. But it seemed to augment. At last by an attraction which was almost against his will he felt bis head turned to one side, as if drawn there by Bome subtle influence. Not Ave yards away from him was Dr. Watson. His eyes were bent with growing earnestness on the girl's face. They were hot, and seemed almost starting from his head. It was evident that the hateful man was concentrating all the power of his soul into that look. By his side stood Mr. Crawford. Henry Heushall understood the situation at a glance. His own creeping, disgusted sense of being under some influence seemed explained by the magnetic attra:tion of this devilish man. He knew, too, that his ideal, this nervous, high strung girl whose artistic temperament must unswer to the fkdntest impression, was being overcome by that terrible glance which Dr. W atson was directing toward her. hadputthe vtoUn wider her chin. He felt that something must be done. A little more of this occult violence and Edna might break hopelessly down. He was her knight, self constituted, to be sure, but with the fond hope that some time he might receive from those soft brown eyes the sign that he was not an ungrateful defender. His course was quickly decided on. He walked behind the hateful form of the doctor, and after standing a moment turned around sharply and, as if by accident, struck the man in the bock so heavily that he turned in wrath and surprise. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Dr. Leopardi," he said, with a stress upon the name. He darted a glance at him as he said this that sufficiently conveyed his feeling. It was to be war to the knife. Dr. Leopardi looked at him in return with a deadly hate. "You are mistaken, sir," he said hotly, without a moment's hesitation. "My name is net Leopardi." Henshall felt t^at his ruse had succeeded in what he chiefly intended. He hud broken the fatal current which streamed from Dr. Watson's eyes, and which was slowly but surely unnerving the fair girl who struggled so bravely against the malign influence. He stepped close to his ear and hissed into it: "If you do not withdraw at once and cease persecuting that innocent girl I will bring one that will prove you are Dr. Leopardi and a thief and a villain. Go, quietly and at once, and I will do nothing more at present, but otherwise beware, for I know you much better than you do me. Qo!? ^EERncIDEAL ^ (Jreat <?omposit^ f/ovel. THE JOINT WORK OF H. Ballou, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, MaJ. Alfred C. Calhoun, n Dale, Howe & Hummel, jline Hall, Inspector Byrnes, John L. Sullivan, II Nelson. Mary Eastlake. P. T. Barnum, Bill Nye. Lieoparui a uruwu ick-o (J**) nu.w . | and his eyes looked like an angry snake's. "I will be even with you some day," he : said in a low tone of intense revengeful: ness. "1 never forget a debt like this." Then he turned and said something to Mr. Crawford, who had been watching his ; daughter too persistently to have remarked this side scene. After a moment apparently of hesitation on the old man's part he j turned, and with an agitated air left the ! hrdi with the doctor. j "What did you do to that fellow?" asked I his companion as Henshall returned to his ' ! side. j "I scotched a snake," he said, his lip 1 j curling with disgust and scorn. I Edna Lewis had completed her solo triumphantly, and twice she was obliged to return to bow her acknowledgements to the applauding bouse. She was deadly pale, and there was a strained look in the dark brown eyes which pierced Henshall's ' very soul. He could not leave her unprotected. He must wait and see her safely home. Dr. Watson and old Mr. Crawford were nowhere in sight, but that did not dispel his fear. He waited until the crowd had disappeared. Then he saw a slight figure, a gleam of white satin showing beneath the long fur trimmed cloak, which he recognized as the same that his ideal had worn at the time he had rescued her from Watson's persecutions. ; She was so heavily veiled that he could j not detect a single feature. He approached j her humbly, and raising his had sAid in i the most deferential tones: ! "Miss Neville, pardon my again intrud, ing upon you, but it is only in your own | regard that 1 do so. I have a cab here for ; you, which will bear you at once to your | home, and if you will permit of my escort 1 shall feel safer to know that you arrive there without any molestation." She l>owed, but seemed too nervous to speak. As if distraught, one little gloved hand fluttered out toward him and grasp j ed his own, but it was instantly with; drawn, and she hastily entered the coupe ' he had engaged. \ She gathered her robes close to her, and ! left a place at hei; side for Henshall. ! "Where shall I tell the driver to go?" he j said as he leaned toward her. I In muffled, agitated tones the number of i ' a west np town street was conveyed to 1 him. He hastily repeated it to the cabman, I and then boldly entered the coupe and ! seated himself by her side. The cabman drove off. Heushall's fair companion k^t her handkerchief to her i face, and seemed to labor under an agitation that she could with difficulty repress. 1 He made no attempt to converse with her. 1 He had said as he closed the door of the 1 coupe: ( "Dear Miss Neville, you will surely ac- i quit me of want of respect under the cir! cumstances. You know my one desire is I { to be your most trusted guardian should < i you need any. Do not try to Bpeak. My \ | only wish is to see you safely housed." i The agitated girl underwent some violent I ! throe of feeling, but did not attempt to i | speak. The carriage bowled rapidly along i ! over the pavements, and soon drew up at < the door of a large flat. i Henshall sprang out and rang the bell. The janitor opened the door, and then only < did the fair maiden spring lightly from the coupe and run up the steps into the hall. ; &ne rirnea, wicn ner nnnu upon me i door, removed her veil, and with a mocking suiile called out: "Thanks, awfullyl Good nightl" The next instant she had closed the door in his face and was flitting up stairs. Henshall, with a muttered curse, turned, paid the cabman, then, scowling, took down the number of the house and strode away. The face he had seen was that of the young singer at Louise Neville's concert. "They must have changed cloaks," he muttered to himself. Then, as he walked on, despite his chagrin, he had to laugh. VII.?ONE THREAD BREAKS. i By INSPECTOR BYRNES. Illustrated , by REGINALD T. SPERRY. [Copyright. All rights reserved.] Henshall did not know whether to laugh J or to swear when he reflected on the way in which he had been played by the singer. He felt glad that he had made sure of her number. He meant to see her the next ' day and And out if he could where Edna Ijewis was living. ' The interest which he had felt in this girl, who represented to him so fully his ideal, was quickened tenfold by the late occurrence. He had protected her from one whom he was convinced by many reasons she disliked and who boded her no good. The glance that had shot from her eye as she darted off when he had freed her from Dr. Watson had spoken of gratitude. He laughed at himself for being tempted to think there was any other feeling in that glance. "Yet I had only seen her once," he said to himself, as if to defend the absurd thought that she would feel any deep interest in him. "1 saw her only once, and she has lived iu my brain and heart over aince. What a soul she must have to play as she did What could liavo made that woman play me like that?" "That woman" was not the fascinating Edna, but the singer who had decoyed him away from her. He remembered that. FjIvir jit. the enneerh had worn a white satin dress, and the singer had worn a pink one. Then they must have chuuged gowns! And the long cloak he was sure was the same as that he had seen upon the young girl at the time he had come to her rescue and freed her from Dr. Watson. He recalled the singular change which he had remarked in her playing. He also remembered the strange fact that ho had turned his eyes directly from her upon Dr. Watson. The thought that he and the girl he was beginning to feel such an interest in could be swayed by a common sympathetic feeling was pleasant to him, but when he reflected that it was the odious doctor who had apparently swayed both their souls by I some occult magnetism he wasindignant. j He could have endured it for her, but | that he, a strong man, should be drawn ! like a piece of iron filing to the magnot j by this fellow, whom he hated and whom he knew to be a villain, mortified his pride. "It was only a chance coincidence," he ; said angrily to himself. The next moruiug he called at the house j where he had been the night before with 1 the singer. lie had lost his programme of i the concert, and could not recall her name. But he trusted to his wit to find her. A colored man answered his impatient ring at the bell. "Is there a public singer living in this building?" Heusliall asked. "Yes, sir; there's two?Mrs. Bucks and Miss Dudley." "Where is the mau who was on duty last night at 11 o'clock?" he inquired. "He doesn't come on till 6 this eveuing," was the answer. "Well, you can take me to Miss Dudley's," he said impatiently at a venture. The elevator boy took him up to the third floor and pointed to the door on the left. "That is Miss Dudley's," he said. Henshall rang the bell. The door was opened after two or three minutes by a young woman whom he had never seen. "Can I see Miss Dudley for a moment?" he asked. "What do you want to see her for?" said the young woman. "It is on a matter of private business," he replied. The lady's face was not at all encouraging as she replied, "I do not know it." "Have you auy objections to telling me why you and Miss Neville exchanged dresses last night and why you led me on i such a wild goose chase?" The lady's eyes twinkled a little with merriment as she recalled the incident. Then she replied provokingly: "Why, I thought the least I could do after your goodness in supplying me with a coupe to come home in was to allow you to accompany me?as far as the door. So you didn't mean to come with me at all," she wont on Ironically, "now mortifying!" "Mits Dudley, I've no doubt it was very amusing to hoodwink me us you di(T But you have not told me why you changed dresses with Miss Neville and wore her cloak.'' "Why, you see, she asked me to," suid Miss Dudley, opening her eyes and looking very innocent. "And why did she ask you to?" retorted Henshall, showing a little irritation. "1 don't supi>oso it is a common thing for young women who sing or take part in the same concert to change clothes with each other to go home in!" Miss Dudley smiled again. Then, us if feeling that she h:id carried the matter far enough in this line, she said decidedly and with a serions'countenance: "I have told you all I have to say about the matter. If you wish to know more you will have to see Miss Neville herself, and I do not reully know her address. So I can be of no service to you, and I must beg you to excuse me now." "Miss Dudley," suid Benshail, soltemng his tone, "you would not have acted as you have unless you were a friend to Miss Neville. Believe me, you would do her no harm by trusting me, as I am?aheml?a true friend to the young lady. "I had the pleasure of rescuing her from a man who was annoying her with his attentions only last evening. I feel sure that it was the wish to escape him that led her to propose this extraordinary change of dress. Your being so nearly the same height and figure as Miss Neville made this an easy means of throwing him off the track. Am I not right?" Miss Dudley's eyes had opened rather wide as he was speaking, and when he was through she exclaimed: "Then you are not the man?" "I am not the man, I swear to you," said Hensl'.alL "I am not the man, I swear to you." The singer reflected for a moment and then said: "I do not see what harm it can do to tell you the truth in any case. Even if you are the man, nothing that I say would do any harm now. Who is the man?" she asked suddenly, fixing her eyes on the young fellow. "He is an Italian mind reader whose real name is Leopardi. I know him to be a villian," replied Henshall at once. "I only asked thnt to see if you would have an answer ready." Miss Dudley returned, smiling roguishly again. "Well, I will tell you the whole thing. After her last solo Miss Neville was strangely agitated. She came to me trembling and said: 'There is a man whom I greatly fear, bemuse, although I detest him, he has an influence over me which I cannot resist. From the way I felt while I was playing 1 believe he was somewhere in the hall. 1 iesire above all things to avoid meeting this man. My happiness in life may be destroyed if he should find where I am living. Will you not change dresses with mo and wear my wrap? We are so nearly alike in figure that if you go out in these clothes and veil yourself well he can easily mistake you for me and will follow you. 1 feel as if he would wait until he sees me come out.' "She so impressed me," continued Miss Dudley, "that 1 consented. The fun of the thing tickled my fancy, too. Well, when I came out and you addressed me as Miss Neville and invited me into the coupe which you had engaged, I felt sure you were the man. I thought I was helping Miss Neville all the more by bringing you home with me. Then it was a satisfaction to show you how you had been fooled." She laughed and theu said earnestly, "And you are not the man at all, then:'" "No, I am not the man at all," replied Henshall. "You acted u friendly part. Now, you can act a still friendlier one if you will help me find this young woman. I believe she needs assistance, and I shall gladly aid her." Miss Dudley darted a keen glance at his handsome face as she answered: "I do not doubt it in the least. But I know nothing about Miss Neville more than I have told you. Still, when I see her I will tell her what you have said, and if you leave your address with me I will write to you what she says." With this Henshall had to be content. He saw that the singer was sincere in what she said so far as he could judge. He went to Stienway hall and got lleinrich Neuberger's address. It was on Third avenue, far up town. Ho decided to call at Miss Hartmau's ou his way up to let Mrs. Smith know that he had seen her villainous husband. This would help to cement the confidence between them which he wished to inspire. When heny^^M^jgJ^|V^^^^^erto penciled Do He She "You can trust^^^BBB^H^^BH "CertaI|^BBB^^^S^^^BH "Read Sm pocket. read it," a^B^^B^^^^BB he meant It "Miss Henshall mnBBB]BBIB9BB he the violin is Louise Neville. He may deny that he knows hei, but you are entitled to this warning from A FRIEND." Henshall raised his eyes interrogatively to Mrs. Smith. "That note camo this morning," she said excitedly. "The handwriting is disguised, but I know the character of Leopardi's Italian letters too well not to detect it. I took the liberty of opening it, thinking 1 had a right {is his wife," she said bitterly, "to know what he would write to a young lady engaged to a young gentleman. When I road it I decided not to let Miss Hartmau know anything about it, and felt it was only fair to show it to you." "It is only his devilish malice perhaps," said Henshall, "for he hates me. But I do not know how ho could have found out my name and my engagement to Miss Hartmau." He then told Mrs. Smith the history of yesterday. When he was through she ex'aimedr "That man seems to me devilish at times. Keep this letter at all events. It may come into play later." When Hensball left her he went at once to Neubergcr's. What was his astonishment when that gentleman said to him: "Miss Neville has accepted an engagement to appear in San Francisco with a manager named Rudolph Opper. She started for there this morning." "Beaten again!" said Henshall savugely to himself as he descended the stairs. "But I will And her if I have to follow her aro*nd the world." VIII. - COLLISIONS AND COLLUSIONS. By NELL NELSON. Illustrated by Mrs. JESSIE OUETIS SHEPAKD. [Copyright All rights reserved.] "Oh! how good the Are feels," said Miss Brown, as she rolled over on the soft Persian rug and presented her left shoulder to the open grate. She lay with her elbows on the Aoor, her chin in her hands and her feet crossed, purring like some regenerated cat as she toasted herself a bright scarlet. "Oh! how good it feels," she repeated, gazing into the glowing coals through the iron bars of the grate and recrosslng her neatly slippered feet. "The best Are that ever blazed. If I ever get a homo of my own I'll liavo a grate in every room and a roaring Are iu every grate nine months in / t - the year. If there was nothing else in lif< but hot coffee, hot water and a hot fire il would still be worth living. "Coffee is the best thing that ever wen1 down a human throat. I know of no sen sation to compare with a hot bath, whicli is a purification, a solace and a benediction, while a grate fire, with a soft rug tc lie on, is company, comfort and consolation. There's history in the burning coals, and there must be inspiration, only 1 haven't brains enough to perceive it. "The present lies in the white heat. There's that Doctor of Devils grinning at me; there's poor little Edna; there's tht crazy painter, and leaning against th( brick is Mr. Crawford, scarcely able to BUp port himself. "The embers of remembrance in theii dying glow picture the past, and there's one fact that never fades. I see it in the ashes after the last spark goes out, and I shall see it in the coffin lid at my funeral, and in my grave when I'm buried. God help her to forgive me!" and rolling ovei on her back she clasped her hands and raised them in supplicating appeal above uer Durmng nice. Just then the door of her room opened noiselessly and Dr. Watson, in slippers and lounge coat, entered, and taking a cigarette from his lips stood for a moment watchins her. Not a sound was made nor a syllable uttered, but Miss Brown felt the presence of the hypnotist in an instant. ? A shudder ran through her body, an excessive quivering agitated her eyelids. Hei eyeballs moved convulsively, and quicklj turning her face us close to the firo as the brass fender would permit she said by way of recognition, "It's you, is it?" "You have said it, my dear Martha, and if you don't mind I'll finish my cigarette here. Damnation can have little terror foi yon, by the way." "How do you know?" "Because you can stund such an infernal lot of heat. I've seen something of life and people, but I never met a creature without feathers or fur who could stand as much roasting as you can and not get scorched. Do you know, I sometimes think that you lived in Hades before you came to earth, for you are certainly the most fireproof young woman in my time." "You have said it, my dear Martha." Miss Brown rose to a sitting posture, straightened out her skirts, threw one corner of the fine rug over her feet and knees, and lying down again turned her eyes to the fire and covered her face with her arm to shut out the demon gaze that mAde her soul writhe. Without heeding her silence Watson blew out sonic delicate rings of smoke. "I wish you were not so prudish," he said. "I like the lace ruffles of your skirt better than that rug. They remind me of the girl I married in Chicago." "That was your third wife, wasn't itf" she said venomously. "Well, really, Mattie, to tell you the truth, I don't remember her number, buf now that you betray some evidence of rationalism, I have a little matter to talk about that will interest you. "Your truant mistress hus gone west, and to-morrow, if possible, we will take the same route. I have given old Mortality a powder to make him sleep for the next fifteen hours, and If you have any packing to do yoii needn't be afraid 6t disturbing him. You have been a very useful assistant, Martha, and you can make yourself indispensable to me jiow if you want to." Miss Brown slowly raised herself, rubbed her eyes with both hands, and without looking at him asked, "In what wayf" "In the same old way." "No. I've done all I intend to do 'in the same old way!' When I leave this house 1 leave your service for good. I Lave enough on my conscience now to keep me as wide awake as the Macbeths, and 1 tell you I'm sick of it, and I intend to quit." "You're never so good looking, Martha, as when you reflect the fire you absorb. II you were my wife I'd keep you angry all the time. Conscience? Bah I the thing went out of style before you went out ol bibs. It's indigestion that's bothering you. I'll mix you a powder when I go to my room. "Now, Miss Crawford Is expected in San Francisco Monday evening. She will stuy at a private house, the name and number of which I will give you, and I want you Lc go to her with a letter her father has written and look after her. I am determiner! to marry her and you can help me." "And what if I refuse?" "I'm determined that you will not refuse, and the sooner you understand that the better. Do you hear what I am saying? Look at mel" "Let me go I" "Answer me first." Unable to move a muscle under his grip Iier senses reeling beneath and for an instant was 3 her arm a sudden twist i girl to her feet. Then beady eyes on her, and t her trembling lids till s to his face, he said clearas I tell you? Say you across the pale face of t was there an instant nstaut, but Miss Brown it, for she raised her left iway, and as sho did so and tore away the lace easonable. Sitdownand all Mr. Crawford in the >u had a dream, that you sick bed, neglected and you saw her mother? lis you?" moro, for heaven's sake jll him," and sho buried hands as if to shut out a vision too horrible to contemplate. "I am willing and all that, Dr. Watson, but I know I can't help you and it's no use sending me. Miss Edna does nottrust me. She dreads me and I fear her. I can't look into her face, and have not been able tc meet her eyes since the night I made hei mother use your vhiaigrette. "Asleep or awake it's all the same, and the older the daughter grows the strongei becomes the resemblance to her mother. It is wasted time; I can't stay with her or neai her. and I won't try. I will go to Califor nia with the letter if that will do you any good, but there isn't money enough ir Amorica to keep me in her service." "And that is final, is it?" "Yes." "Does It occur to you that I have evidence sufficient to convict you of murder?' "Who ever heard of an accomplice nang ing and an adept scoundrel who has won success as thief, bigamist, forger and i.i i :i ? j...i i <i mi uiuuKiiiuuur cswijJiug juugiiicuu' inert was profit in Mrs. Crawford's death, ant you know who got her fortune and what became of her property." "Hold your tongue, you jade. Youi wages will depend upon the success of youi dream to-morrow morning. We give uj these quarters this week without fail, and on second thought it will Ixi better to have you travel with us as nurse or companion or secretary to Mr. Crawford. "To save you the trouble of planning ar escape I might as well tell you that I liav< paid a private detective to watch you, and that I am determined to have your assist ance. So good night, dear. Get as mud rest as you can, for it's a long, weary rur from hero to 'Frisco." ??? Banker Ilartmau's house in Stuyvesanl square was as gay as a palace for a corona tion. Incandescent lanterns hung in th( branches of the trees flooded the scene be low with soft light, and wove a delicate tapestry of skeleton leaves and gracefu branches over pavement, street and wall From curbstone to doorstep stretched car pet and canopy, one hung with little cham ber lanterns, from the jewels of which th< light streamed in soft splendor, and tin other hedged with date and fan palms. White liveried grooms stood at the car riage step to assist the wedding guests aud in the vestibule and along the stair case wero servants of inscrutable face anc faultless dress, each with n single phrasi to deliver by way of direction to the be wildercd company. The air was redolent with the breath o: j roses, and up from an arbor of palm anil ; oleander floated the light strains of mandolins, flutes and harp, rhpturous as love 1 itself. Newel posts and balustrades were twined i with roses and rosemary; window seats and mantel shelves were cushioned with i violets and daffodils; gorgeous balls of hydrangea and chrysanthemum filled the fire, places, and invisibly hung against screens of smilax was a wainscoting of orchids extending through the drawing room and library. ; The alcove off the music room had been > turned into a nuptial bower. An umbrwl> la of white buds roofed the inclosure, the walls were tapestried with pink roses, and just within the floral gates stood a priedieu of carved ivory and golden satin, where Henry Henshall would kneel with i his bride to receive the nuptial benediction. Up in one of the sumptuously appointed guest chambers sat the painter in the at [ titude of a penitent, desolate us a lighthouse, for he had locked the door and given [ orders not to be disturbed. The marriage ; was set for 7 o'clock, and the neighborhood abounded in belfry clocks. He had his 1 gloves on and the ring in his pocket and he 1 was listening for the knell, i "Confound it, any way. Why should I ; care?" he muttered, rising abruptly and beginning tit ^aee the floor. "It's the woman in mo* "Men marry nurses and ' housekeepers ai\d influence every day in the week, and 1 can name at least five fellows in the club who have married for mere social position. This thing of love is an involuntary sort of a sensation, any way, i and as for swearing to keep it up, it's all balderdash; for a fellow can no more hate all his life than he can love. I'm in love with that small, brown eyed musician, yet I I wouldn't marry her if I could; but I mean to find her and know her and UBe her as an ideal, if I have to sell my immortal 80Ul. 1 "Lena is a good, wholesome girl, ample i in everything but imagination, amiable i and lenient, and she loves me, poor child, L with her whole soul. Ah, well, the least I ; can do is to treat her decently. And I wish i to gracious this ordeal wus over with. "My idea in hurrying the thing was to i escape the gaping mob, and the servant at the door told me he had counted one hundred and twenty. I never could understand the whims of woman and her aversion to quiet weddings. "And then the nonsense of paying tribute to her intuitionl I'll swear that I haven't made love to her, and I know for u certainty that I hnven't kissed her three times. She thinks she loves, and she thinks she has a heart, and she thinks she thinks, which is equivalent to the demonstration of an absurdity." Lena Hurtman, buxom, blonde and warm blooded, belonged to that vast army of women that thrives best on neglect. She loved Henry Henshall because she Ibared him. He had called her silly when she attempted to be playful, made fun of her theories, and referred to her as dull, inar tistic and shallow pated. He teased her unmercifully, but what hurt her was the indifference he showed when she pouted, expecting to be coaxed. Coaxing was not in the painter's tactics. He could have soothed her with a hand clasp if he hud cared to do so, but he didn't, and by ignoring her moods he deified himself to a "whistle-aud-I'll-come-to-you" state of importance. Inadvertently Henry was training his 1 wife for future success. Women are as easily spoiled as children, and once in1 dulged they twine a man about their ; fingers or play doormat with him, as the humor suits. It's the stinting of grain und grass that gives the thoroughbred beauty and go; ( and just iu proportion to the checking and stinting of his affection will a man hold ' and enslave the woman who is iu love with him. The velvet glove is very soothing to the touch, but a woman wants to know that there's an iron grip under it. ' HenFy Henshall counted the belfry strokes and waited for the resounding tones to die away before unlocking the door. In the hal). onjiis way to the bridal | chamber, ho jhet Hanker Hartm&n going | to signal the leader of the orchestra for the march. "Ah, old man, glad to see youl How are your knees? Shall I get you a drink of something?" "No, thank you; I'm all right. Where's Lena?" , "Dear Henry, how do I look? Is my veil on straight? I'm awfully nervous. Are i your The pule faced bridegroom was spared the effort of response by a burst of melody that came from the fifty strings hidden away in some place overhead, and offering I his arm to the goddess in satin and pearled tulle he led her down the broad staircase, , along the rose trellised hall, through the 1 orchid scented drawing room and into the floral bower. In the gateway stood the venerable clergyman, book in hand, straight as a sentinel and bright as a January rose. ! The sweet strains of "Oberon" came from the pleading, sobbing violins. In six minutes by the watch of Broker Ilenshall bis son was u husband, and at 6 o'clock the following evening Mr. and Mrs. Henry Ilenshall, Mrs. Smith, Mr. Crawford, Dr. Watson and Miss Brown were in the Union depot of Chicago, waiting for the San Francisco limited. IX.?EXPEDIENTS OF DESPAIR. By MARY EABTT.AKE, Illustrated by Miss E. L SYLVESTER. [Copyright. All rights reserved.] It is the nature of a man to pursue. He regards the whole world as a hunting ground, and anything that pleases his fancy, whether it be a bird, a pretty woman or a brute, as his lawful prey. Ho may not care for the game or know why he pursues it, but the chase is irre, sistible, and, like the child with the butterfly, he will spoil his pretty clothes, stub his toe and get his feet wet running through brambles and puddles as long as the winged thing is in sight. If woman only kuew it she could win her 1 lover by eluding him,,for man ever wants what he can't get easily, and prizes most the fruit that hangs highest. To him no ! beauty is so entrancing as that which | smiles and blushes beneath the mystic web 1 of a gauzed veil, and doubly lovely is the loveliness thnt turns and flies at his approach. llenshall knew neither rest nor peace of ' mind. The throbbing, sobbing notes of 1 Edna's violin were as sweet to him as the music of the rolling spheres to the old phi1 losopher. 1 He had eyes for nothing but the soft browns of her hair, lashes, complexion and dress. lie thought of her through the day | and dreamed of her in the night, and could they have been vocalized every sigh would have uttered, "I will And her." And as he followed this small woman ; with his thoughts and his soul his bride ' Lena first became moody, then tearful, and finally so despondent that she threw herself in the arms of her companion and begged her to tell her what to do. 1 There was not any too much nectar in the make up of Mrs. Smith, and no danger of her sharpening the edge of Mrs. Henshall'ssensibilities. Instead of puttingher arm about her neck, and electrifying her ' medulla spinalis with the magic of her touch, she took a hairpin from her coiffure 1 and proceeded to loosen the cuticle about ' the girl's finger nails. 5 "And so you are disappointed with marl ried life already? Well, my dear, you have ' only made the common error of expecting too much. You have foolishly invested the field of wedlock with the couleur de rose, ' and studied your hero with the magnifying } lens when you should have reversed the ' glass. : "Now let me udvise you not to be unreasonable; don't tell me you expected to marry an angel. You are a mortal and mar1 ried to a man, one of the queerest brutes ) that treads the earth. Yes, men are queer I brutes," she repeated, crossing her eyes in fancy; "enthusiastic and deferential enough 1 before marriage, but an entirely different 1 sort of breed afterward." "But Henry isn't; he's the same now that he was a year ago. He scarcely notices 5 me, and never speaks unless I ask him a question. There's something on his mind. 5 It isn't his work, for he hasn't finished a canvas this long time, and it isn't I, that's i certain." I "Now, Lena, don't be foolish. You get as much petting as the average woman has a right to expect." "Right? Am I not married to him, his J lawful wife, and shouldn't I expect some J evidence of his affection?" "No, expect nothing. You can drive a horse to water, but you can't make him i drink. Let hira get thirsty, let him alone." "But I don't wan't to let him alone." I "And there's just where you make a mlsi take. When you get your third husband you'll know how to manage him. The trouble with you is this, you have too f many feelings and too much heart It is a ' "And so yon are disappointed with mar rlcd life alreadyf" UUtlJCi LU nil vu iCUiiu^a, uuu III J uu \ jti; to to get rid of your heart if you waut to have good digestion and keep your youth. "A woman with a heart is in the power of her husband; a wife who has none can do as she pleases. Take all,.give nothing in return?that's the true tfhilosophy of matrimonial peace if you ain't find contentment; and you needn't hunt for happiness, for it is not to be found on this planet in quantities to speak about." This sort of advice was gall and wormwood to the honest, innocent young woman, but she knew well enough that her companion spoke from her bitter experience, and nauseous as the dose was she took it, dried her eyes and went to dress for a walk. They had been at the Palace hotel in Son Francisco for a week, and the painter had sought in vain to meet his ideal. The amusement bourds were placarded with bills for her concert engagement., every performance of which he had attended. He had cultivated the acquaintance of the theatre manager, and through him secured an introduction to Ilerr Rudolph Opper, whom he had wined and dined at the hotel. He had smoked, walked and driven with him, and as a last resort to win his confidence begged the impresario to sit for a portrait. "Now, I would like very much to have you and Mrs. Henshall meet my little star, but 1 have nothing to say about it. It rests entirely with her, and she has positively refused to make any acquaintances. These professional women, you know, have to be humored, but Miss Neville, 1 am convinced, has a reason for wishing to avoid people, and as she is not well, I feel compelled to respect her wishes." Henshall was pretending to portray the musician one morning when this conversation took place, and at this rebuff his brows knitted, his heart sank and his brush fell from his hand. "Well, of course, Herr Opper. I don't wish to seem impertinent, but I met Miss Neville several times in New York." "You did?" interjected the musician. "That is, I saw her?heard her play, and I have seen her every night during this engagement. My reason for asking to be presented is that I wish to make a picture of her for the next Academy. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen or dreamed of, and if I could only palut her I believe the picture would make mo famous." The model, who wua playfully dovetailing his fingers, offering no answer further than a mild indorsement of the compliment to the girl's beauty, it suddenly oocurred to Henry that it might be policy to get the assistance of I^ena, and excusing himself he went to call her. While he was uway Opper got up to stretch his legs, and in the circuit of the improvised studio came upon asmall folio, which carelessly opened revealed a sketch done on a business card that fairly took his breath away. ~ . "Miss Neville!" he muttered to hinlself. "Then this is the villain she has been try-'"' ing to avoid ever since we left New Yorkl My God! and Ihavebeeu telling him about her. Another! Three! Two more! As L live, there is nothing else. And I was seri-: ously thinking to have this man paint her from life. Well, well, well! this is great luck. I must go: this is something remarkable!" A few moments later, when Henshall returned with his wife to propose an invitation for a supper party, lie was surprised to find the room vacant. There was no sign of Herr Opper in the hall, and as the'elevator was at the bottom nf the shaft he wiselv concluded that his visitor had gone. The next thing was to send a playfully petulant note after him by messenger, and urge the importance of an early sitting for the next morning.' The reply durafbunded him. Herr Opper would not be able to keep the appointment nor make another until his return to New York. At the concert that night the manager could not be seen, and when he had been repulsed a third time Henry fell to thinking with such fierce energy that ho did not notice the burly detective in evening dress who followed him into the hall and occupied the seat adjoining his. ? When Dr. Watson reached Chicago and came face to fuce with his wife and his antagonist he was momentarily stunned. "Curse the luckl" he thought to himself. "There are four sleepers in the train, but only one dining car, and no matter how I calculated it would be awkward. There's no use figuring. 1 can't do it." And he instantly became solicitous for his patient. "My dear sir, what is it.' Speak," putting one hand on tho old man's shoulder and taking his pulse with the other. "You are pale, your eyes are glassy and you're chilled. Forgive me, dear Mr. Crawford, the run from New York has been too much for you. We should have laid off at Detroit. But we'll make amends here." And before the astonished old gentleman could recover his senses at this unexpected burst of interest Dr. Watson signalled a porter to conduct him to the waiting room while ho went to overtake Miss Brown, who had already arranged her section for the Journey. "My dear," he said, taking her by the arm, "I've changed my mind; eomeouton the platform, I want to speak to you," anxious to avoid the possible recognition of his wife. "Mr. Crawford is not well, and I have decided to stay over until tomorrow, but you can go on alone. Here's tho letter and the tickets, and here's some money for your expenses. "Go to Miss Crawford at once, and $500 spot cash if you catch the bird and hold her until we arrive. If anything happens I'll wire you and sign tho message 'Brother,' so as not to arouse any suspicions in the mind of Miss Edna should she chance to see It. That's all, I guess. Good-by, sister. Won't you shake hands? Well, have It as you like. Be good to yourself and look sharp." The bags and traveling blankets were hardly gathered up when the bell rang, and the cry of "all aboard" was heard and the train steamed out of the depot. Dr. Watson called a carriage and ordered the driver to tako them to the Palmer house. By way of sustaining his apprehensions for the welfare of Mr. Crawford, who was in reality very much prostrated from the fatiguo of tho journey, the doctor conducted him to the Turkish bath and had him steamed, rubbed and rolled until he was nearly dead. He had to be carried to his room on a stretcher, where lie remained through the entire week. Message after message was wired to Miss Brown during the week without getting any answer in reply. Suddenly one day the treachery of the woman flashed through the doctor's mind, and he dashed off a dispatch, and marking it "rush" he carried it down to the rotunda of the hotel. The dispatch was addressed to Louise Neville. It read: "Come at once. Vour father is dying. "Dn. Watson." X.?FISTS FLY. By JOHN L. SULLIVAN. Illustrated by K BOTTHOF [Copyright. All rights reserved.] Baldwin's theatre was thronged with the beauty, wealth and fashion of San Francisco. There was not a seat vacant, and even standing room was at a premium. Henry Henshall, moody and discontented, occupied a proscenium box alone. His bride of a few days was at the hotel, forgotten by her husband. It was to be the last appearance of his divinity, and although ho had tried every possible and impossible way of meeting her, if only for a few minutes, he had failed. That night he had determined to speuk to her at all hazards. Early in the evening hestationed himself at the stage entrance, and there patiently awaited her arrival. it wanted but fifteen minutes to8 o'clock when she drove up in a modest hansom. She Btepped lightly out, and glancing neither right nor left bolted for the door. Her fame was so great that there was a crowd fruiting on the sidewalk to catch a glimpse of her face, and no one paid any particular attention to the huggard young man in evening dress among ttiem until he suddenly pushed forward and attempted to lay a detaining hand on the young lady's arm. She did not notice the movement because, quick as he was, there was another quiekcr, and before he could touch her a big, wall Hrpu?pil man atATinad nniolclv forward and with no gentle hand dragged Henshall back Into the crowd, saying gruffly and fiercely: "Must not block the passageway. 'Gainst the rules, see?" " What the devil?1 say, let me go, will you? 1 must see that lady. I know her. Do you hear? Who the devil are you, anyway?" gasped Henshall, struggling in the grasp of his captor. The latter smiled sneeringly aud held the young man ejiaily until the fair violinist had passed through the stage door. Then he released him, remarking: "1 know you know her, you blackguard, and 1 know she left orders that she wished to see no one, anil lea^t of all you. If we could only induce her to make a complaint against you I would take the greatest delight in putting you behind the bars, you scoundrel. As you have asked for my name I will give you my card. Here it is," and he handed the artist a plain white piece of pasteboard stamped: i JDI BURNS, i : Detective Police, Central Office. j To say that Henshall was surprised would be putting it mildly. He was so indigfnant and astonished by the big detective's tirade that he could only listen in helpless amazement. He took the card mechanically and asked stupidly: "She said she didn't want to see me? Why, she don't know me." Burns laughed sarcastically as he turned away, saying: HT>? - I ? .. rill r.,,, nCUiCUlUCl, JTVSUIIg tcitun, A lk uij eyes on you," and before Henshall could gather his wits sufficient to demand an explanation Burns had disappeared. The young artist found himself In a ridiculous position, the center of u guying mob, when he did recover himself. "Get on to the Johnnie!" ''Pipe de patent leathers!" "He would be a masher, would he?" and other such uncomplimentary al lusions were showered on him, so he hasti ly went around to the front of the house and pushed his way to his box, determined at the first opportunity of having an ex planation "with Mr. Jim Burns, detective." Two minutes after he had gone away from the stage entrance a red headed mes sengor boy shoved his way through the crowd that still lingered there. He rapped loudly at the door for admittance, while those around regarded him curiously, and many asked him. "What's up?" "Nothin'," was his nonchalant reply. After a delay of severhl minutes the stage door wa3 cautiously opened a few Inches, and a portion of the good natured Teutonic countenance of Herr Opper became visible. Seeing the boy in uniform he admitted him at once, asking: "Message? For whom?" Without any undue baste, and making no reply, the lad unbuttoned his jacket, shoved his left hund carefully into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a book. Opening this curefully he took out a message addressed to "Miss Louise Neville, Baldwin's theatre, urgent," and handed it to the Impatient manager. As he saw the address the latter turned as if to hurry away, but the imperturbable messenger caught him by the coat tail, shoved his little black covered book in his fare and said: ~~-<'j3ign. please. And say, give a fellow a ticket, wul yer?" With a smothered execration the worthy Opper signed for the message, and never heeding the boy's other request rushed off with the telegram to his star's dressing room. As he approached It he heard the low, Bweet strains of "Home, Sweet Home" played with a touch on the violin which made it fairly seem to speak. The music ceased abruptly as he knocked for admission, and the door was opened by Miss Neville, who gazed at her manager in a startled way. "Oh, Mr. Opper, is it time to go on? I had no Idea that I was late." "You are not late. The curtain will not go up for ten minutes yet, but this dispatch Just arrived, and I thought it best to bring it to you at once." The girl's face turned deathly pale. "I*et me have it," she gasped. He handed her the little yellow packet. She tore the envelope hurriedly, and it needed but a glance to master the contents: "Come at once. Your father is dying. "Dr. Watson." She did not totter an^ fall, but like a thoroughbred she held her queenly little head up high and said quite calmly: "1 km sorry to forfeit my engagement, Mr. Opper, but I must leave you now at once. My father is dying. Read," and she held out the message to him. "Hum, ah!" remarked Opper. Much as he admired his fair attraction he did not like to lose the night's money, even if he had already earned a big purse through her. Still, in the presence of death he thought it best to throw up the sponge, hoping by agreeing amiably to arrunge for her reappearance later on. In addition he had conceived a sincere and fatherly Interest in the lonely girl, and so he submitted to the inevitable and said quite cheerfully, "Well, I suppose you must go, my dear. But there is an awful big house. I don't know what we can do. You must go alone, I suppose. I could not get away to-night, and you would not wait until to-morrow. How long has your father been in Chicago?" "1 did not know he was there until I received this telegram, which is sent from there," she answered, as she began to collect her few belongings. "Well, wait a minute." cried Opper, suddenly rushing out. He found Jim Burns around in the lobby of the theatre and quickly explained matters to him. "I am going to close the house and return the money to-night, but I want to get Alias Neville safely off first; and now, Jim, you must follow her. i don't know why, but I mistrust the telegram. Will you go? Name your own terms." "I'll go," said Burns, "but I must explain to the chief." "There is no time. Leave that to me. He'll refuse mo nothing. Get a cab and have it nt the sido door. First let the girl know you are following her. When she gets in the cab, you have another one ready and follow. A train goes in twenty minutes." "That duck you told me to watch is inside. You'd better not say where the girl is going," said Burns. "I won't," and with a hearty shaking of hands the men parted. Five minutes later, heavily veiled, Louise Neville emerged from the stage door and entered the cab awaiting her. As she drove off Burns got into another cab, orderiug the driver to follow the first. Meantime Opper was going through the most difficult ordeal kuown to the theatrical manager, that of trying to account for the non-appearance of his star. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, glanoing at the vast audience apprehensively, "Miss Neville cannot appear to-night. Ill iico in her family. Her futher dying. Message from Chicago to-night." Then he paused abruptly, remembering that ho had given her destination away, and glancod at the box occupied by Henshall. The latter had heard enough, lie was leaving his box like a flash, so the good hearted manager concluded his apologies with a rush, suying, "Sorry to disappoint you, ladies und gentlemen, and sorry to lose the door money, but it will be all returned at the box office, and I hope nover to disappoint you again, and believe me your true and personal friend, Opper." Then he rushed off the stage, determined to foil Henshall at all hazards. "Ass! dolt!" were the pet names he called himself as he rushed out and jumped into a hack, commanding the driver, "Union depot, triple fare." As ho had surmised, Ilenshall was driving the same way an<l just as fast in another conveyance. lie did not know if his ideal woman had already started for Chicago or not, but he was bound to go there and find her. He rushed into the depot and bought a ticket, and was told that a train would leave in two minutes. He jumped aboard and rushed hastily through the cars. At last his heart gave a great jump and then nearly stooped beating. lie saw lier in n forward car, her shapely | head resting in a pathetic way on one little ! gloved hand. | _ Then indeed Henshnll lost his reason, and j " knew that theovomun before him was tlie j woman he truly loved. Forgetful alikeof prudence and common ]j sense he walked rapidly toward him and j luid his Imnd on her shoulder. j; "Pardon me, Miss Neville. If you knew f( how much I want to talk to you, how , much I have to say to you! I know you are , in danger!" The last word he whispered, as there fwere others about. " The girl could not see his face distinctly, f She feared all strifngers, so she arose aud ;"> said icily: "Please go away. I do not kndw 1 you, sir." v She had no need to say any more. ti Burns had been just h little neglectful or > else Ilenshall never would have trot as near > +1 o - VJ her as he had. But the big detective dc- n termined to atong for his neglect. a He applied fist, boot and his magnificent v strength to the painter's anatomy, and rushed him through the car like a whirl- . wind, ancbout on the platform. ' Henshall was not a coward. Twice had'he been baffled by this burly * ' fellow, and now he determined to fight u him. V The scrap ensued then and there. u The scrap cmwd Uien and ^there. ^ Henshall knew how to use his dukes, and q he did valiantly. ^ Burns, although a powerful man, knew y little of the science of boxing, so his v lighter antagonist pummeled him well -> with three or four straight from the ? shoulder before he got a chance to close ? with him and overpower him. Just then Opper, hot and indignant, .I1.J 4L.....L 3 ..11 11 I pueu uuruugu iuc uruwu pen men, suuuir ing: C "Hold himl Hold the scoundrell Arrest " hlml" 1 During the excitement the train rolled t away and the girl was gone alone, with no o one of the three men, all so anxiously desirous of aiding her, near her. p Burns was savage. To several policemen e who quickly gathered he displayed his ^ badge, and then, summoning a cab and ac- J, companied by Opper, he took Henshall a prisoner to police headquarters. -p There Opper told the chief that the paint- * er was a scoundrel who had been pursuing j* and annoying his star. " The charge was so ridiculous that Hen- f shall laughed aloud. H Then, In bitter tones, he turned to Opper t and said: "You fool, if you had only come L to me like a man I would have cleared up {] your unjust suspicions." , He then explained the case In full, claim- f ing only a chivalrous interest in the girl. y He had no little trouble In proving the 11 truth of his statement, but he finally did, ft with the assistance of Mrs. Smith. i Mutual explanations ensued, and he and * Burns shook hands and were friends, fight- J1 ing for the same cause. t "I start for Chicago to-night," said Hen- r shall, careless of everything. ; "And I am with you," said .Burns. . By the midnight train Burns and Henshall were speeding toward Chicago, deter- C mined to aid Louise Neville to the utmost n of their power. t [TO BE CONTINUED.] Z A New Device Fob Keeping e Oysters in the Shell Good.? g There is a new and ingenious device t for keeping oysters good in the shell r for several weeks after they have i been taken from the water. Hither- 4 to this has been done satisfactorily v by boring holes through the edges fc of the shells and locking in the oys- h ter with bits of twisted wire. By (] the new scheme the edges of the g shells are dipped into plaster of Par- fi is mixed witn certain chemicals and t made to harden quickly. In a few v minutes tne oyster is nermeiicuny -j sealed, and so strong is the cement t that not even the most muscular mol- 3 luski|can manage to get a breath of ^ fresh air, after having been subjected v to this process. 0 Prevalence of Deafness.?Dr. c Francis Dowling, in a paper which r he read at a recent meeting of the c Cincinnati Academy of Medicine, i stated that "between the ages of 10 f and 40 at least one person in three is e subject to partial deafness. The l great majority of cases of impaired hearing are hereditary, and are largely owing to a too close consanguity i of the parents. Deafness is more e prevalent among males than among j: females, owing to the fact that the 1 male is more exposed to the vicissi- s tudes of climate. There is much p more deafness in America than in p Europe, and this is due to a more gen- 1: eral use of scientific instruments, such t as telephones, where one ear is used I to the exclusion of the other." t ? a fiST Many people have puzzled their c heads to define faith, but it is a very j simple thing after all. One of George a Macdonald's characters explains it t saying: "When God tells ye to \ gang into the mirk, lassie?gang!" f A Christian sailor, when tusked why s he remained so calm in a fearful c storm, replied: "I am not sure that j I can swim, but if I sink I shall only c drop into the hollow of my Father's r hand, for he holds all these waters 0 there." A little Sunday-school girl c gave as her definition of faith : "It 1 is doinp as God tells you, and ask- \ ing 110 questions." v Iteir Out in Saginaw, Michigan, is a f mathematician who has been mak- t ing figures 011 his slate about finger v nails. He finds that the average person trims off a thirty-second of an inch of nail from each finger every 1 week, or three inches a year. The s average of human life the world * over is 40 years. Ten feet of finger I nail for each finger?a round 200 feet r from the twenty fingers and toes, t nro 1.000.000.000 ueonle in this A world, and altogether they produce c on an average 300,000,000 feet, or ( f)0,813.15 mile* of linger nails in a d generation. t Want Satis fa crox Now.?Two J men in Whatcome county, Washing- c ton, disputed about an ax, the origi- (j nal value of which was fifty cents, 3 but which had deteriorated one- c third by use. One of them hired fc' himself to a justice and had the other 1 and the ax brought into court. The i case has gone through the justice's 1 court at a cost of $210, and is now in c the district court, and the justice's t clerk has gone through the ax by t breaking the handle while breaking 3 coal. But that is all right; the men d do not care for the ax now; they are v mad.?[West Shore. * \ 84^?'There is a tree in Athens, Ga., which is a property holder. In the j, early part of the century the land on which it stands was owned by Col. W. II. Jackson, who took great de- ^ light in watching its growth and en- j joying its shade. In his old age the j 1 tree had reached magnificent propor- j tions, and the thought of its being c destroyed by those who would come j after him was so repugnant that he c recorded a deed conveying to it all c land within a radius of eight feet of it. ^ 46T Many a person's conception of s what it means to lean on Providence a is as hazy as that of the woman in 1 China, Me., who called on a local in- r 1 surance agent the other day to in- J quire about a policy for her house, c "Ye see, square," she said, "we i haven't had it insured for some time, i We've been kinder trustin' in the 1 Lord for better'n seven year, but to ] my mind in these times it's ter'ble i risky." i pisrrilaufous Reading. THE MOSCOW BELL. In 1723, work on the great Moscow ell was begun by John Motorin, a lussian foundry, foreman of the loyal Gun Factory. He had for help )ur carvers and pattern makers, 'obeleff, Galkin, Cogteff and Sereriakoff, and one moulder's foreman. 'eter Loukovnikoff. Wages hadeen 6 rubles per month, that is, 4.60. and the last one only received rubles per month. In January, 733, nearly one hundred different \ workmen were engaged in preparaions, and work was kept going till * November 26,1734; at that time every liing was ready for casting and the lold was dry. There were four ir fnrnoooc ^f m tKocn ii luiiiuv/vo yi v > ^i uuatuij ; j 111 uiw^ ,-as placed 5,723 poods and 4 pounds f bronze from an old bell that was roken down before. Fire was startd at 4 o'clock p. m., and in the night he metal had commenced to melt own. Then were added on Noember 27,5,276 poods and 36 pounds lore of bronze. On November 28 fere added 2,000 poods more of tin nd copper, and everything was all ight until 11 p. m., November 28.' 'hen two furnaces gave way, and all he metal went down into the ground, 'hey lost 6,500 poods; and it was 1 . m., when they added some old ells to the remaining two furnaces, ['hen they took from the arsenal and I hrew into the furnace 600 small bells, ,663 poods altogether. Then they _ rougnt from the gun factory 4,137 oods of small bronze coin and 300 oods of tin, and sent down town and ought some 400 poods more of tin. It 7 a. m. of November 29 the other wo furnaces had given way, and all he bronze went through the bottom nto the ground. The heat was so Teat that the crane took fire, and evrything was burned down, but the nold was not destroyed, becoming nly a little wet. In 1735 John Mororin died, having transmitted his zork to his son, Mykel Mortorin, yho had been his helper all the time. November 23,1735, the furnaces were eady again, the fire was started, and November 25, the bell was cast all ight. On the bell was the inscripion to the effect that the bell was ast in 1733, but that is not right. ?he mold was made in that year. . ill preparations and work, except he price of metal, cost 62,000 rubles, ir nearly $47,770. The height of the bell is 19 feet 3 nches. circumference. 60 feet 9 inch s; thickness of walls in the thickest iart, 24 inches; in the thinnest part, inches. The weight of the bell is 2,327 poods 19 pounds, or 443,790 English pounds. One pood equals (? English, or 40 Russian pounds. ?he bell was cleaned of the sand in he spring of 1737 ; then it was left n the pit on the iron grate, laid on welve oak piles. The grate served irobably as the bottom plate in makng the mold. The sides of the casing pit were covered with wood logs. )n May 29,1739, there was a big nre n Moscow, and the cranes and the nilding that was over the bell were mrned down, and all burning beams ell down into the pit; this heated he bell and gave it eight cracks, one liece about 7 feet square and 10 tons n weight being broken out. The ronze of the bell contains 84.51 per ent. of copper, 13.25 per cent, of tin, learly 1.25 per cent, of sulphur, and he remainder, some traces of silver, inc and arsenic. The bell was in the ground till rlarch, 1830, then the pit was d out. It was 30 feet deep. ApriT^^ 0,1836, workmen started to lift the ell out, but there was not sufficent opes to lift it out safely, and the ifting was delayed till July 23. In 2 minutes and 33 seconds the bell vas lifted out of the pit. Beams had ieen placed across the pit; the bell 1 i. 1 ? .1 i.1, . nA ? uwereu <m mem anu men wutcua listance of 140 feet and placed on a ;ranite foundation. All the work lad been finished August 4, 1836: hen there wa- made a bronze ball v-ith a cross and placed on the bell. The bell is in style Renaissance^^ here are figures on it of King Alfeis ^ ilichailovich and Empress Anna toahno; but only the faces ana the ipper part of the body are cleaned ^ ut; tne lower parts are covefcii^B nth burned sand. The bell is not . ^ leaned yet; most parts of the ornanents and letters are filled with scales ?f burned sand. There is a wroughtron tongue under the bell: it is 17 eet long and two feet thick on the md, but it does not belong to this ell; probably it is from a former one. A Charge of Shot.?When standng within a few yards of a gun's nuzzle at the time of a discharge, a lerson would be amazingly astonshed were he only able to see the hot as they go whizzing by. Ex eriments in instantaneous photogra>hy have proved to us that the snot tot only spread out, comet-like, as hey fly, but they string out one belind another to a much greater disauce than they spread. Thus, with , cylinder gun, when the first charge ii snot reacnes a rarget mat is iurty 'ards away, the last shot is lagging .long ten yards behind. Even with he choke-bore gun some of the shot vill lag behind some eight yards in orty. This accounts for the wide wath that is mown in a flock of lucks on which a charge of shot falls ust right. About five per cent, only if the charge of shot arrives simultaleously at the target, but the balance if the first half of the charge is so lose behind that a bird's muscles are lot quick enough to get out of the vay, although those who have matched sitting birds when shot at iave often seen them start as if to ly when the leaden shot whistled >y them, only to drop dead as thev t'ere overtaken by the leaden hail. A Year of Storms.?The year 81)0, more than half gone, bids fair to how up a terrible record of disaster rom tornadoes and storms in the sorthwest and North. It must be emembered that the recent disasrous floods in the lower Mississippi /alley were the direct result of exessive rainfall in the valleys of the )hio and Tennessee Rivers. The leath score from such sources for he year thus far has been figured up >y The Chicago Tribune as follows : anaary 1.1, 11 lives were lost by a yclone in Kentucky; February 22, 5 by the flood at Prescott, Arizona; larch 27, 440 by the Lou'svill? cylone; April 6, 12 by floods in the iouth ; April 22, 15 by a cyclone in Vrkansaw; June 5,15 bv a cyclone n Nebraska; June 13, 12 by a cloud>urst in Kentucky; June 20,12 by a yclone in northern Illinois; and to hese now must be added probably wo hundred more victims by the Minnesota cyclone. The fatal list of leaths by cyclones, lightning and windstorms alone since January 1 will figure up over eleven hundred, s compared with only one hundred .nd sixty-three deaths by the same a uses all last year. How to Spoil a Child.?1. Befin young, by giving him whatever le cries for. i. Talk freely before dm of his great cleverness. 3. Tell dm he is too much for you?that you an do nothing with him. 4. Let dm learn to regard his father as a reature of unlimited power, capri:ious and tyrannical; or a mere whipping machine. 5. Let him earn (from father's example) to depise his mother, ti. Do not care who or what his companions may be. '. Let him read stories about pi ates. Indian fighters, and so on. 8. ^et him roam the streets in the wening and go to bed late. 9. Demote yourself to making money, re- j nembering always that wealth is a A letter legacy for your child than^l principles in the heart and habits iajH be life, and let him have plentyJ^^B [noney to spend.?[Exchange.