Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 19, 1894, Image 1

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lewis m. g-rist, proprietor. j gin independent Jimilg Jtapaper: ^or, the fromotion of thcL political, Social, ^gipcultural and Commercial interests of (he ^onth. | terms?$2.00 a year in advance. - VOL. 40. YORKVILLE, S. C? WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1894. NO. 38. THE OVER' BY MARTHA McCUl Copyright, 1881, by the American Press Asso CHAPTER XXIIL "We must bring him here and at once. It is the only thing to do," Vance said to Major Overton as the struggling * daylight fell full on tho tall, dead man, so straight and stock and stilL The old man nodded, saying: "Yea It will tako half a day to get out of this wilderness. Besides we could never carry him, and to come back"? he stopped with a half shudder?' 'is impossible and impolitic," Vance finished. Even as they spoke came a noise of pick and shovel outside. Dozens of "rusty tools lay under the rotting sheds about, and Willing hands were plying them to put out of sight the poor, reckless creature, who had paid the fullest penalty of his sins. By time the sun was above tho j tree tops a long grave had been scooped in the little glade back of the old house. Daro at the springside, her face, her hands, refreshed and spotless, turned to Allen, saying softly: "Ask them, please, grandfather and j Mr. Hildreth, if we may line tho grave with boughs and put others above him." "Surely we may,'' Allen said, pressing bar soft palm to his cheek. "My Dare, _ it is like you thus to do good to them that despitefully use you. We will make together for our enemy a green bed and give him a pillow of flowers." Hand in hand they went about the wood plucking sheaves of goldenrod, stalks of cardinal flower, of iron weed and early asters. Allen had spoken a littie apart with the gravediggers. Al- : ready they had torn flat, leafy boughs .from the thicket and covered with their ; green all the dank cold clay. Across the I western end of the narrow yawning pit ! Allen laid the flower sheaves fresh from j Dare's hand. And down in that cool and . flowery darkness they laid Royal Cleve, j his two hands folded peacefully under wnw orroon loAVPfl. tn await the summons , ? - at 'which all life must answer for the deeds dono in the body. Then, as though a weight had been lifted from all souls, the cavalcade made its way out of the wilderness. Major Overton's horse had been left behind, so precipitate was the flight of his captors, j Dare rode upon an improvised pillion behind her lover when the steep hill road did not make it necessary for both to dismount They said little, those two. The siler.ce of overful hearts lay between them. But Major Overton talked and smiled with his friendly lawyers in a 1 fashion none had ever seen before. "Oh, for an hour of Hawkins now!" Hildreth said to Vance as they found themselves nearly at the outer edge of the iron land. "You will hardly ever enjoy it, I fear," Vanoe returned. ' 'Plague on that storm! But for it I meant to try to get at him before he learned the miscarriage of his scheme. As it is, he has no doubt heard it in time to quit the coun> try." "Do you think so?" Hildreth asked, with an odd smila "Man alive, there r- is no think about it Hawkins is as far from being a fool as from being an honest man. After this?why, it's a hanging matter with the proofs we hava " "Nn dnnht. it we don't use them." Hildreth said. "You forget he had. a partner in all this?one, too, who will make it possible for him to go scot free." "Do you mean?it cannot be Mrs. Townley?" Vance said. Major Overton leaned from his saddle to say very low: "Gentlemen, good friends, please for- > get that?that you have spoken. What- j v ever we may know, Dare has no suspicion of the treachery of her own blood. Pray do not make it necessary that she should be saddened with such knowledge." "Agreed, on one condition, major? that you let us settle with Hawkins. He is not the man a gentleman can touch. 1 know you want to shoot him, but that would result in some awkward explanations," Vance said, laying a hand on Major Overton's arm. Still Hildreth smiled queerly, looking a little over his shoulder to where Allen and Dare walked in blissful company. At last he said: "Major, here we are at the back side | of Exeter. I move that we go in and j breakfast with Mrs. Townley, or without her." Major Overton sat up very straight, i saying: "Excuse me, sir. I cannot break j bread there. The sight of that worn- i an" "Major, I ask it as a personal favor," j Hildreth interrnnted. Vance looked at him hard "Iii that case I have no choice after last night," Major Overton said, with a j shade of the old techy stateliness. Hildreth /said only, "Thank you." Five minutes later Black Patsey was crying out: "De lawsy, Miss Dare, yo' des done foun yo'slf des too late, Miss Mel, she des done got ma'rid ter dat j er crank rnouf Mr. Hawkins an drib 'way lickety split wid libery stable ! horses?say de got ter ketch de train. But i she know somehow yo' wus comiu, comin hyer, tole me git breakfast ready, an hub it good, an gib her love, an say she I wish yo' well, an she gwine writo ef she cain't wait ter see yo'. De preacher, he's in de parlor room yet, an howcomo it yo' got sech er many gentlemens ter | fine an fetch yo' outen dat dar coalin's place?" i "I'll tell you, Patsey. There's another wedding on hand," Vanco said his eyes twinkling; then as he got down from his * horse: "Let me help you a bit, major. I think you will be the better for breakfast and six hours of rest'' Major Over- j ton waved him back a trifle impatiently and made to dismount in the old alert j fashion. But even as ho swung himself from stirrup a pallor overspread his face, j He tottered and hung limp across the saddle. TTitwI Vtntir)a liftnd Kitn rornronflr ?**.***v* ***?.^x* ****** *v?v*v**vV thence, bore him inside and laid him in the wide dim halL Dare knelt at his [ side, chafing the nervous, veiny hands that were learning thus late in life what it was to tremble. "Drink this. You are overs} out," Hildreth said, holding to the old man's lips a draft of milk and brandy. Major Overton drained it; then, as his face grew less gray, beckoned to Vance and half whispered: "I know what it means, the beginning of the end. I must live a few hours longer though. Dare?Allen ? she must not" "What is it that you wish, major? We will do it or hang, but never think of dying. You are good for years yet," Vance said, trying to speak in his old cheery voice. Major Overton's lips moved, but hardly a sound came from them. Allen, hurrying to his side, caught the old man's eyes of appeal. Kneeling, ho took Dare's hands within his own, then laid the two clasped across the other nerveless palm. Instantly Major Overton's eyes brightened. He whispered painfully, "Yes, take her?now." Dare laid her cheek softly to the withered one on the pillow and said, sobbing: "Oh, grandfather, surely you do not want to be rid of me. Let everything go until you are well again." '11?am?well?now. Life has?been ?a fever," the old mau said in a strange, husky whisper. Hildreth touched Allen's arm. "I have sent a swift messenger for a license," he said half under his breath. "In two hours it will be here. You must marry Dare at once. It is what the major wishes and the only thing to da Poor old fellow! Ho has lived 011 his hope and courage this 40 years or more. rON CLAIM. [jLOCH WILLIAMS. elation. ! Now that the strain is ended, no wonder he has broken down." "I am more than ready to do as he wishes," Allen said in the same hushed voice. "But Dare?can she bear further excitement after all she has undergone?" "Ask her," Hildreth said, stepping to the bedside. There he took Major Overton's hand in his and said aloud: "Now, major, all is as you would have it The minister is here; the license soon will be. You must drink some more brandy and go to sleep until we wake you for tl^e wedding." "Yes," said Vance as the old man almost smiled, "but first let me tell you that Miss Dare is even more an heiress than we thought. Our friend, the parson, has just put into my hands a deed of gift to Exeter and all it contains, executed by Mrs. Hawkins within five minutes of her marriage. It may not be quite valid, but I think it will stand." 4 'No. I fear we have lost Hawkins for good and always," Hildreth said as Major Overton's eyelids fell in sleep. Two hours later, robed all in white, with a white roso in her hair and another at her breast, Dare gave her hand to Allen Fauntleroy, standing just where her mother had made her bridal vows. They had flung wide door and windows. Outside the summer sun fell golden; the summer winds laughed softly through the leaves. Within the heavy tarnished splendors kept still their note of gloom, though Patsey had done her faithful best to brighten them with feathery asparagus, sprays of scarlet trumpet vino | and white August lilies. Stretched helpless upon a rich faded couch, Major Overton looked through tears at the last of his line, given thus at his own wish into the keeping of her hereditary enemy. But they were not bitter tears. Though Dare's eyes were modestly downcast, happy blushes chased one the other eloquently over licr face, Allen's countenance said even more plainly that ho had come through storm and stress to his heart's dear desire. "I pronounce you man and wife. What God hath joined together, let no j man put asunder," the minister said I sonorously. And with one thought the j wedded pair turned from him to kneel | in front of Major Overton and bow their heads for his blessing. Ee had seemed past speech and motion, but with a last flash of the will 2.x.-X x a 1^,1 1 i unit uau never quiuieu uu. iiuu iiuaai himself, laid his hand on Dare's head ' and said, with clear distinctness, "God bless my children and keep their hearts full of love." "Amen!" said the minister, and every j listener only echoed it Then a solemn hush fell on them all, for the old face, "God bless my children and keep their j hearts full of lave." the old eyes, were radiant; a smile lay | about the parted lips, through which j came the swiftly shortening breath. Outside a thrush began singing loud and | clear. The wind dropped. A vagrant j sun ray slipped into the room. It fell on Dare's head as she stood too rapt for : tears, her eyes full upon the dying face. Before it mounted to the wall the gasping breath was done. Francis Overton 6lept with his fathers. Ho had won a lifelong fight, and the hour that brought victory found also deatli. THE END. AN A DEQUATE REASON | His nauio was C5eorge Carew, and at the tirno of which 1 writo he was a passenger on hoard the Royal Mail | steamer Cobra on her homeward voyage j from Buenos Ayres to Southampton. It was lato in tho year, and the passengers wero comparatively few. I cannot with truth say that Carew was a gener- t al favorite on hoard, llo was taciturn j as a rule, and when ho was not taci turn he was apt to bo dogmatic. Among tho male passengers ho was ! usually spoken ot as "a decent fellow enough, but queer." The feminine ]>or- j tion of tho community thought?or said they thought ? him uninteresting. Among their number was a tall, pretty blond, who had gradually pierced tho armor of his reserve, and in whoso company ho had even been seen to smile. They became very good friends?so much so indeed us to draw down upon tho young lady's head various maternal lectures on tho folly of encouraging young men who were nobodies. But as , Carew, of course, did not hear these j lectures, and as Miss Ida Lennox was a self willed young person, their friendship suffered no interruption. There was a certain Mrs. Bouverio on board, an extremely handsome widow, in whom Carew, for soino unknown reason, had moused a violent dislike. She was clever as well as handsome, but was possessed of a passionate and 6omewhat uncertain temper ? which last, however, in virtue of her many counterbalancing good qualities, was universally condoned. One evening at dinner Mrs. Bouverie was expatiating to those nearest to her on tho value and antiquity of a very n,,il hoilllti fll I V1I1<? whif ll sllO wore, and which she had picked tip in a tour through Italy. She affirmed it to bo at least 1100 years old. It was a broad , gold band, chased richly and with mar- j velous delicacy and set all round at j regular intervals with largo diamonds of exquisite brilliancy. Inside were two capital letters. N. C\, each letter formed of tiny seed pearlssuuk into the gold. Mrs. Bouverie, who was of a j romantic turn, was of opinion that it bad beer, an ancient betrothal ring. There was a half effaced date inside, which the widow's right hand neighbor,a pale, consumptive looking clergyman, was in vain trying to decipher through a small magnifying glass. Presently a lady opposite begged to bo allowed to rxainino tlio ring, and from her it was passed from hand to hand pretty well up and down tho length of tho table. But, strange to say, it did not como back to its owner. It had apparently disappeared. Every one declared it had passed safely ont of his or her hands. Where was it then? There was a great commotion, ot course; everybody rose, and a thorough search was made, ru and under the table and j from one end to the other of tho long ! 6aloon. Tho ring, however, was not forthcoming. Its owner had by this tirno becomo somewhat excited, and a rather disagreeable scene ensued. In point of fact, .Mrs. Bouverio insinuated that some one had appropriated her ring. Upon this, some of the male passengers angrily suggested that, if Mrs.Bouverio entertained suspicions of that nature, all present had better turn out their pockets. To this proposition thero was a general assent. All resumed their seats, and thero ' I was a hurried disentombing of keys, letters, pocket handkerchiefs, etc., but no ring. Carew, to tho surpriso of all, quietly refused to exhibit tho contents of his ! pockets. "But merely as a matter of form, Mr. Carew, expostulated the captain. The young man, however, repeated his refusal jourteously, but moio inflexibly, if anything, than before. , There was an awkward silence. Then Mrs. Bouverie forgot herself, j "May 1 ask, sir," she said, addressj ing Carew in an excited tone, "why you refuse to do as all your fellow passengers have done?" "You may, madam," was the brief and haughty answer. "Well, sir, and why not?" ' Because I have a very special reason for not doing so," he answered in a carefully repressed voice, i "And that reason?" "1 fear i must decline to give it," he answered quietly, but with an ominous flash in his gray eyes. "mi " ineii you are uwarv ui iuo iuijjuuij tion your refusal casts upon your character?" inquired the lady scornfully. "That is a matter of the utmost indifference to me," was the icy answer. But the speaker's hand, as it lay upon the table, opened and shut in a quick, nervous fashion which showed that he I was less unmoved than he looked, j Whereupon Mrs. Bouverie waxed j more and more indiscreet, and all but accused Carew of having tho ring in his posssesion. j 'Mrs. Bouverie, Mr? Bouverie," rej monstrated tho captain, "this is really not quite iifir." Here Carew, who had been growing j whiter every moment, rose from his seat. "1 regret that you should havosuch an opinion of ine as your words imply, | Mrs. Bouverie," he said in a queer, uncertain voice. "May 1* suggest that you drop the subject for tho present? My temper is not all that it might be, and 1 should bo sorry to bo guilty of discourtesy to a lady." Then ho left the saloon and went on deck. After this day, however, Carew observed a gradual but marked difference in his fellow passengers' demeanor toward him. His greetings wero received coldly, though with scrupulous politeness. Groups began to melt insensibly away at his approach, or his advent was a signal for a dead silence. If this general boycotting affected the object of it, he did not show it, but simply withdrew into himself and nthpr ripc-nlft an deliberately as Ihey avoided him. To only ono person did ho make an advances, and ho only mado them once. It was in this way: Early one morning ho was standing looking moodily to leeward, when ho suddenly became aware that Miss Lennox had come on deck and was leaning against one of the doors of the covered 6tairway. Their eyes met. She blushed deeply, made u half hesitating movement of her head?which might have meant a morning salutation or might not?and turned away. But Carew took steps toward her. "One moment, Miss Lennox," he said in ah odd voice. "Will you tell mo why you have avoided me 60 persistently during the last few days?" "Avoided you ?" she stammered awkwardly enough. '' Oh?I. really?not at all. But?but" Carew smiled slowly, but his lips were pale. "I beg your pardon," he said quietly. Then he lifted his cap and walked away. As he did so he saw one of the male passengers grinning from behind an abnormally large cigar. He did not pitch the youth overboard, but he could have done so with pleasure. After this little episode, Carew was, if possible, more ostracised than ever. Only the captain treated him with comparative cordiality. But as the days went on he, too, became less kind, especially after one forenoon when he opened to Carew the matter in hand. The young man cut him short at once. "I don't care to discuss the thing. You can believe what your passengers seem to believe, or you can let it alone. It is nothing to me." Captain'North sfirugged his shoulders and walked off. Carew laughed. His laugh was short, though, and bitter. If this suspected young man had been anybody in particular it is possible they might not have been so hard upon him. But as ho was simply George Carew, with nothing beyond an average good looking face and well set up figure to recommend him, and as, moreover, his clothes had a look of having seen better days and were by 110 means of the latest cut, he was clearly not an acquaintance to be regretted. At dinner that night Carew found himself next a small, gray clad young woman, with a pale, serious face and a smooth, birdliko head of dark brown hair. Sho had also, as ho absently noted, exquisitely shaped hands. He had never entered into conversation with the little woman; indeed ho had hardly been awaro of her existence beyond hearing the captain address her onco or twice as Miss Neville. As ho took his seat beside her tonight, however, sho said in a low, clear voice, "Goo<l evening, Mr. Carew." It was so many days since any of the lady passengers had addressed him at all that ho actually started. "I beg your pardon?" ho said. "I only ss'ul good evening," the girl in gray mado answer, looking up at him with a littlo smile. Then ho roticed that her teeth were very pretty and her eyes very satisfactory indeed. Before ho had time to speak, she went on: "Tho captain says that before many days wo shall bo in tho bay of Biscay. I liavo not crossed it since I w s a little child. I suppose it will bo frightfully rough?" "I think it is more than likely," ho answered, gazing steadily at his plate. Whereupon they drifted into a subdued, friendly conversation which lasted till the end of the meal. Carew was not a particularly soft hearted fellow, but it touched him strancelv?this un looked for partisanship. It gave him a queer, unwonted lump in his throat and made him feel womanish, which annoyed him. Next morning ho saw the girl in gray on deck. She was standing quite still, watching the screaming sea birds that flew and dipped astern. Her pale, serious little face already seemed to him like the faco of a friend. As he passed her with a slight bow she turned, held out her hand and bade him a cheery good morning, supplementing it by some trifling remark regarding the weather. Ho stopped, answered her and stood beside her for a minute or two. Then ho flung away his cigar and leaned his arm on the railing. Ilis companion scanned his faco swiftly and covertly. She thought ho looked dispirited, and sho felt for him, for sho was a tender heaited littlo woman. They talked on indifferent subjects until luncheon and repeated the process between that meal and dinner and also in the evening. And so it camo to pass that Carew began to look upon this small, gray clad creature as his one friend in all his present world. He learned a great deal about her from her half unconscious confidences?among other things that her Christian name was Joyce, and that sho was an orphan, and that sho had known trouble. But sho learned little or nothing about him. The Cobra touched at Corunna,whero ono or two Englishmen came on board. Then came tho redoubtable bay of Biscay. On tho night they left Corunna there was a glorious moon, under tho rays of which Miss Neville and Carow were walking up and down on deck. 1 Tho steamer was rolling a great deal, I and he had offered her hfs arm, which she had accepted. She treated him in i a frank, unembarrassed fashion, almost as a sister might havo done?and he? j Well, men aro susceptible, you know, 1 and 1 am bound to say his feelings to her wero uot altogether those of a > bruther. i When they had taken a few turns in silence, she said suddenly, "Mr. Carew, we seem to havo become such good friends by this time that I should liko | to say something to you which otherwise I should not presume to say." She looked up at him as she spoke, and he looked down at her. "You know you may say anything i vnn nlnncA tn mp " hoKflid. with a curi- 1 cms lingering tenderness in his voice. "You won't think it a liberty, will you?" she went on. "1 shall assuredly not think it a lib- i erty," was the brief answer. Cer- J I tainly her eyes were very lovely. They I thrilled him through anil through. 1 "I want to ask you, then," sho said somewhat nervously. " why you allow { I thoso people to believe what they beI lievo about you r" ; Sho felt him wince slightly. There was a silence. Tho monotonous J ; throbbing of tho engines amidships ' ! mingled with floating seraps of half j i heard talk and laughter. ! Then Carew said in a hard, bitter ( voice: "Unfortunately 1 nmnotrespon- t sible for their beliefs, Miss Neville. Besides, what they believe of mo may j be? true. I am?pardon me?an utter 1 stranger to you; you have no reason to j j believe in my innocence." "1 do believe in your innocence, i though." sho murmured, uu excited thrill running through her voice. "May 1 ask why?" Me spoke clear- j j ly, but sho felt his arm tiemblo under ' her hand. For ono swift moment sho looked up ! at him, und her eyes were full of tears. : But ho did not see them, for ho was gazing straight before him. j "Why?" sho repeated, with a curii ous sobbing little laugh. "Because 1 ?know!" A minute later she was gone, and he was watching tho last flutter of lier gown disappearing in tho direction of i tho stairway. Late that night Carew sat in his cabin, leaning his elbows on bis knees, ! and staring earnestly at something ho held between his lingers, something that | twinkled and sparkled as the light of the electric lump fell upon it. It was j a broad gold gipsy ring, richly chased, I and set at intervals with largo dia- | monds. Inside were two Roman letters formed of tiny seed pearls. ? * For two days after that it blew a j pretty fair gale. It rained a good deal, too, at intervals; and such of the passengers as were not violently seasick in their berths kept to the saloon or the ; i music room, with the exception of two ; or three hardy males, of whom Carew was one. As ho passed thodoor of the stairway i toward tho evening of tho second day, | he saw Miss Neville, who had just : struggled so far, and was clinging to j the door to windward. She was lookj ing white and ill, bethought, but when i he told her so she only laughed. "Do you care to come for a turn?" j ho said. "It doesn't rain now, and I : will take good care you don't fail," he added. Sho consented, but tho steamer was : pitching so heavily that after a few i turns Miss Nevillo said sho would rather sit down. So Carew provided her with a shel- I tereu sear, orougni a warm rug 10 wrap i about her feet and seated himself beside ! ! her. It was now almost dark. A few ; : stars 6hone hero nnd thero in the stormy : sky. Tho wind shrieked and whistled j drearily. The dcelc was deserted. For ; quite a long time both were silent. | Then Carew said in a half whisper: "You are trembling. You are not [ afraid of the storm, are you ? It is noth- j | ing for tho bay. I assure you.' "No?I am not afraid." "You feel quite safe here with me?" j ; he went on, sinking his voice lower yet. | "Yes," she answered somewhat tremulously. After a pause he laid his hand on 1 hers as it rested on her knee and said ! in an odd, deliberate kind of way: j "Will you let me take care of you always? I mean as my wife. 1 have j grown to love you very dearly, and 1 think I could make you happy." For perhaps a minute there was utter silence. Then Carew withdrew his hand, sayI ing hastily and in an indefinably j changed voice: "Ah! you do not care 1 for me. Perhaps it is as well, and peri ?w* 4-/\ im!r vaii ?f\ jn en i I forgot for a moment that 1 am a man under a cloud?n cloud that in all prob- 1 1 ability will never bo lifted, for I tell | you honestly I have no means of righting myself. Forget what 1 have said." The words and tone were hardly loverlike. but there was a slight, almost imperceptible quiver in the deep voice. A small hand stole softly into his. "I do care for you,"saida happy littlo voice, "and 1 would take your word i against all tho world." Another pause. Carcw did not even i press the hand ho held. Then ho said harshly: "llut suppose 1 cannot give you my word? Suppose 1 tell you that I am what our fellow passengers think I am?" "1 should not believe you." was the i confident answer. "But if 1 tell you that you must believe me?" His face as he looked down j was very pale and wore an expression she could hardly fathom. Sho uttered a half suppressed littlo cry, hut she did not take her hand away?only nestled it farther into his. He grasped it almost painfully; then i let it go. "Foolish, trusting little woman, " he said in a strango voice. "Must I give you proof that your trust is?misplaced?" Ho held out his other hand to her. In its palm lay tho ring. Even in tho j dim light she recognized it at once. There was a curious, breathless pause, j during which Carew never took his eyes from the girl's face. "Well?" ho quietly sr.id at last. He felt her littlo fingers close tightly on his. "1 can't help it," sho said brokenly. "i love you?l love you. "And will you be iny wife?" j Sho could not see his face, but his voice shook. "Yes," sho whispered, hiding her face in both her hands. But tho hands were gently drawn. In tho semidurkness sho felt his arm ! como about "her, and his mustache j brush her lips. "Darling," he murmured passionately, "you shall never regret it?I swear, " and in his eyes glittered something that looked liko tears. *?*?* Next morning one of tho Englishmen who had come on boaid at Corunna, and who had been ill ever since, appeared on deck. As it happened, the , first person he saw was Carew. ; They greeted each other cordially, and after tho fashion of old friends. This Englishman, by tho way, was a j well known statesman, and a very good , j fellow besides. In the smoking room that afteroonn . some 0110 kindly put him 011 his guard gs to Carew and supplied the details. "I thought I would mention it, you ' know," appended tho man who had spoken. "I 6aw you speaking to him awhilo ago." "Thank you." wn thA dry answer, j "I've knowu George Carew lur a good j many years. I think I have a pretty good idea of his idiosyncrasies, and I ' don't think annexing other people's I property is one of them. By the way, i j you may not have heard that he has come into the title and is now Lord I Evandale. I though I'd mention it. \ you know," he added with a somewhat grim smile. In the silence that followed, the speaker lit a fresh cigar, rose and went out. i I blush to have to relate that during the remainder of that day a good many of the Cobra's passengers became suddenly imbued with the conviction of | Carew's?or rather Lord Evandale's? , innocence and evidenced as much. How , their overtures were received perhaps 1 j need not say. Joyce Nevillo was a little shy with her lover when sho knew. But in the | course of a starlit walk on deck he : mado that all right. She, it seemed, had had the idea that ho was rather j obscuro and hard up than otherwise, | at which confession he was a good ! deal touched. I think it was on the evening before ; the Cobra got into Southampton that ' tho head steward made a startling discovery. Mrs. Bouverie's ring was found in a distant corner of the saloon, 1 wliero it had been effectually concealed | by an upstanding corner of the carpet. Captain North publicly restored the ring to its owner that night at dinner, i Thero was a very uncomfortable silence | for a few moments. Every one had an ! awkward kind of feeling that some ; sort of apology should lie mado to the i haughty looking young man who was 1 at present helping Miss Neville to claret. And every ono had an equally awk- | wurd conviction that any apology or j any explanation whatsoever would be ; worse than impossible. Tho subject of their thoughts, how- j ever, forestalled anything of the kind. There was something rather fine in his appearance just then, as he leaned back : in his chair and threw a keen glance j first up and then down the table. "As Mrs. Bouverio is now, I hope, j satisfied that I did not steal herring," ; ho said in a cold, clear voice that pen- j etrated to every corner of the long sa- I loon, "I will explain my reason for re- j fusing to turn out my pockets as the : rest of you did. I possess a ring which i is the exact fac simile of that possessed j by Mrs. Bcuverio, and as I had tho ! ring in my pocket on the evening in | question 1 naturally objected to its be- j ing mistaken for any other one's proper- i ty. You arc all at liberty to examine j it, if Miss Neville chooses." As ho | spoke, ho turned and slipped the "don- j ble" of Mrs. Bouverie's ring on the : third finger of Joyce Novillo's left hand. The look which accompanied I tho action spoke volumes. Thero was a pause of intense as- j a X . i.1 t , loiiisiuutuii; men u uuun ui cai.ii.cvi < and wondering exclamutions, in the 1 midst of which Lord Evandalo rose and I went out on deck. The rings were identical, with one 1 exception?in one the initials were N. j 0.; in the other, C. N. Mrs.Bouverie looked crushed and un- I happy, for of all things she dearly > loved a lord. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth, too, in the cabin of i 4-he Lennoxes.?Montreal Star. Pwltotwotts gentling, j BY WIRE TO CHINA. How it Meiomge in Sent, and the Distance It Travels. It is quite 25,000 miles, as the cable i lightning flies, from Hong Kong to J Coney Island, so that it is quite safe ; to say that when the messages are j sent which tell us of the doings of the contending forces of Japan and China, the front end of the procession of words is coming ashore at the end ! before the rear end has been emptied into the sea by the Hong Kong opera- j tors, l'ekin is exactly due east or i west of New York, as you choose, being on the same parallel of latitude, and but 20 degrees nearer to the west | than to the east, and Hong Kong is as far south of Pekin as Havana is from j New York. So, if there were an air telegraph to the Chinese capital, the ; message would only have to fly a little matter of something like 12,000 miles. But it is bv manv and devious paths, under the tropical seas, and over j bleak Asiatic mountain ranges, across i the dark stretches of Persia, through ' the land of the Arabian Nights, across j the Caucasian mountains, skirting | around the lonely shores of tho Plack \ sea, up through the country of the ; Danube, across Austria, across tier- j many, across France to England, and | from England, in its last, final deep- | water plunge under the North Allan- j tic to Coney Island?over all these ; weary leagues of laud and the sea the ' signalled words are rushing. No matter what the name of the ' town in China the message is dated as | coming from, it is Hong Kong that is j the greatcable clearing-house. Here I it is the messages are dumped into the ; sea, not touching land again until they j turn up on the marshy shores of Sing- i apore. There is a man at Singapore ; who catches them as they run out of ; the wet, and sends them hurling back into the water again, when they leap : up to tlu* bold coast of densely wood- ' ed lVnang, at the entrance of the Malacca straits. Here they catch a long breath for a dive across another sea, to Madras, away down in Southern | India. With the exception of two brief j plunges, one up to and partly through ! the Persian gulf, and the other under English ehnuuel, it is all land travel for thou amis of leagues after leaving ! Madras. The first heat is a little skip ( of (HO miles northward across India to Hoinbay. Then the story takes to the water again, until it rushes out at white-walled, plague infested, lilthy ! Pushire, on the Persian gulf. 11 !' ? Sr. Inof II irni<ikliwr inn. IUICIU IS .1 ll.vrment or two of rest for the message at. Bushirc. This is the Botany l?ay of cable operators. They get the Bushire station sometimes when the man agcinent thinks they need a little quiet life away from temptation, and the j climate of Bushire is not calculated to inspire a violent form of energy. So we will say there are tifteon seconds ; lor refreshments at Bushire, and then j oil' the Hying train of words goes to the lofty Shiraz, nearly 5,000 feet above the level of the sea, and the! handsomest town in all Persia. But there is no stop at Shiraz. Teheran is the place where the story changes wires. From Teheran it jumps the j Caucasus, skips around the eastern and northern shores of the Black sea, Hashes through much-battered Sebustopol, and so on to Odessa, where It is switched to another wire that carries it through the Balkan provinces to Austria, (Jermany, France ami London, whence it is Hung to Land's End, on the bleak Cornish coast of England, . and there it takes a long breath for its Hnal plunge down among the whales, and sharks, and dead rolling bones of dead ships and dead men at the bottom of the North Atlantic, to he greeted at New York. An hour is a reasonably long time for a word to make this journey. The messages from Japan go, as a rule, under the sea to Yladivostoek, whence by the (treat Northern lines, they rush across Siberia to St. Petersburg, and thence to Copenhagen. And in addition to the overland routes, there J is an all-water communication by way of Aden, the Red Sea, the Mediterra- 1 nean, and the Bay of Biscay to Lon- ' don. You pay your money and take your choice, and it costs about sixty cents a word less by way of Siberia than !>v the other route.?New York World* REPUBLICANS COME TO LIKE. The State Committee Isxues a Call Tor Iteorganization. The Republican party of South Carolina has begun to pull itself together for the part it is to play in the November election. The following address issued last Wednesday explains itself: Headquarters of the State Republican Executive Committee. CoLUM hi A, S. C., Sept. 11, 1894. To the Republicans of South Carolina : A nolitieal struirele of far-reachintr and widespread importance is now in progress. Vermont and Maine have already spoken in such grand Republi- j can majorities as have not hcen known I since the days of Abraham Lincoln. The Democratic party, in full possession of every department of the gov-' ernment for the first time since 1860, j has demonstrated its incapacity to sue- I cessfully administer the government, j Everything seems to indicate that the next house of representatives will i be largely Republican, and that the ! landslide of this November will be but the prelude to the Republican cyclone of 1896. Although illegally disfranchised by the registration and election | laws of this State, the Republicans of | South Carolina cannot afford to remain inactive and indifferent in this great j struggle. Public sentiment is crystal- ! izing against these infamous rcigistra- j lion and election laws, and whether | they are legally dccreeed to be unconstitutional or not, a Republican house of representatives would not hesitate to unseat and send home in disgrace those ; whose only claim to election is based ! on the suppression of the right to vote of a large majority of the citizens of the State. The Republicans at this election j should record an earnest and vigorous ! protest against their illegal disfran- i chisement. Candidates for congnss should be nominated in every congres- j sional district, and all Republicans i should attempt to cast their votes for j representatives in congress. A record i should be kept of all who are rejected . under the operation of the registration ! law, which will serve as a basis to con- ; test that law before the next national house of representatives. Congressional committees should at once arrange for congressional conventions to nominate candidates for congress, not waiting for a cull to be issued for a Slate convention. Congressional conventions will- be i constituted as luiiows: First district, 31 delegates?Beaufort ; county, G ; Berkeley, 2; Charleston, 13; j Colleton, 3; Georgetown, 4; Williamsburg, 3. Second district, 27delegates?Hamp- J ton, 4; Barnwell, S; Aiken, G; Edgefield, 1). Third district, 27 delegates?Abbeville, 9; Newberry, 5; Anderson, 7; : Oconee, 3; Pickens, 3. Fourth district, 35 delegates?Green- j ville, 9; Laurens, G ; Fairfield, 5; Spartanburg, 7 ; Union. 4 ; Richland, 4. Fifth district, 25 delegates?York, 7 ; Chester,5; Lancaster, 3; Spartanburg, 2; Chesterfield, 3; Kershaw, 4 ; Union, 1. Sixth district, 27 delegates?Clarendon, 4; Darlington, 5; Florence, 4; I Marlboro, 4; Marion, 5; Horry, 3; Williamsburg, 2. Seventh district, 29 delegates?Berkeley, 4; Colleton, 4; Lexington, 4; Richland, 2 ; Sumter, 7; Orangeburg, 8. | E. A. WEBSTER, Chairman. j Attestt: J. H. Johnson, Secretary. j WASTED TIME. The Baltimore Sun has an editoriul j on "Wasted Time and Opportunities," , which is so admirable that we repro- j (luce it and commend it particularly to our young readers. Our philosophy of life is that man should enjoy the pleas- , ures of existence ; but should do so in a rational, reasonable way, having re- j gard to the conditions that surround 1 him. While still young, he should fit himself not only for the duties and I 1 conflicts of life ; but for the enjoyment j of its social and other pleasures. As- j ' ceticisra is as fur wrong as dissipation, j j though not so harmful. We subjoin what The Sun says : Time slips by us almost unheeded, never to return. It cannot be saved like money, to be used after awhile, or stored as in a reservoir. Each moment is given to us but once. We must j 1 make use of it or it will pass away, 1 never to return. To the wage worker especially, time is of very great value. 1 lie cannot a fiord to waste any of it. This does not mean that he should never be idle. On the contrary, he ' will make a great mistake if by overtasking himself he cripples his powers of work. Time is wasted unless it is j used so as to keep a sound mind in a i 1 sound body. There must he an adequate allowance of time for rest and i recreation, or the time for work can- I '< not he fully utilized. The greatest j ' waste of time and opportunities, however, is committed by the young men I ! and women. They do not realize the | ' value of time until years have rolled i ! away and they find themselves bound i ' down to hard labor that they might I < have escaped if they had taken time ] to improve their minds or develop I ' sonic kind of special skill that would [ ! put their services in demand. Much | i of the distress of this world falls upon | I the workers of little skill, whose places < can easily he filled from a great throng i I of other incompetents, always seeking j i a job. Very many of these (not all | i perhaps) have wasted their time and 1 opportunities in their youth. They { ' have sought recreation and amusement 1 < when they should have been studying; they have refused to work at any j I calling that required them to soil their ! hands or their clothes; they have accepted easy situations and have reach- j i ed manhood or womanhood ignorant, . lazy, and incapable of giving useful service to their employers, lint they ' cannot recall one minute of the wasted i hours and days of their youth. No j repentance will bring back to them , < lost opportunities. They nre doomed j j as by fate, for which they themselves I are in part responsible, to a life of ill paid toil or shame. This lesson can- i not be too often held up before the ! young, for they are thoughtless and j ( always more or less indifferent to the < lessons of experience. Here and there, | ( however, one may be found who will 1 j listen to the warning and guard against , ; the waste of time. In doing so he need ; | not sacrifice the rational enjoyments of ! , life. There is abundant time for play, ( as well as for study and work and rest, , if one will make a proper division. < And there will be no wasted time if j each hour is made to help build up the j physical, mental or moral qualities, or | to develop some special skill that will | he useful in the bread-winning contests j of the future. ; j j TRUTH TKLLIMJ- i It is undeniable that there is some j 1 confusion in the popular mind respect- 1 ing truth-telling and lying, arising i from a failure to understand the essential elements of truth and falsehood, i So far as the individual himself alone ; j is concerned he may make a false I statement without lying or he may 1 make a true statement without and i lie in doing so. The question is one i I of sincerity in the one case and an in- * i tent to deceive in the other. All the i j sophistry about lies, and especially i white lies, disappears when tested by ; i the purpose or intent of those uttering ) them. When a sincere man tells that : t which he believes to be true be has i not uttered a lie, though the state- j t ment may be false. On the other hand, the hypocrite who, keeping 1 within the bounds of truth, insinuates t a falsehood by suppressing n part of the truth to convey a false impression and does so with the intent to deceive is an absolute liar, more despicable even than those who lie outright with no pretense of adhesion to truth. The distinction should be clearly impressed on the minds of children lest they should mistake the form for the substunce. Sincerity, honesty, frankness? these are the elements of truth-telling ; deceit is the essential element of lying. The harsh measures sometimes used against children to punish them for slight offences are very often responsible for the development of a habit of lying. The child becomes afraid to acknowledge his offences, findiug it much easier to play the hypocrite and thus win favors than to brave disclosure and a whipping. It is a great mistake to break down a a young person's frankness and sincerity by sucb barsh treatment, for there are no qualities which better deserve cultivation. With them he will be naturally a truth teller. Withoutthem he may pay respect to' the outward forms of truth as a matter of policy, but will do violence to it whenever it may serve bis purpose to do so. It is an impressive lesson to the young sometimes to point out two opposite characters in a community?one respected and trusted, the other feared and distrusted?and then get them to find out for themselves what is the difference between the two men. If they are at all discerning they will soon see that one is frank, sincere, honest and that the other is trickey, false in word and deed and very often a hypocrite. The contrast is greater if the men are in the same class of society, with respect at least to worldy possessions. Whether they are rich or poor, a wide gulf is drawn between them?the one has troops of friends, ! the other wary and suspicious acquaintances. Truth-telling, which is something more than strict adherence to the letters of truth, is so essential to the formation of good character that the young should he taught to esteem the qualities, from which it springs, and not merely he taught by note the sin of lying.?Baltimore Sun. PROPOSING BY TELEPHONE. How the Hunlwuro Drummer (Jot Ahead of the I'rofeHNor. An event has occurred in Michigun, near Detroit, says Hardware, which appears to confirm the idea that courtship, as well as most other things, will hereafter he greatly facilitated by recent inventions. It seems there is a young lady residing near Detroit who for some time has been the recipient of the attentions or two young men, one a young professor in the Michigan State university, at Ann Arbo* and the other a traveling salesman for a New York wholesale hardware house, whose route extends through Michigan and parts of Canada, One day recently the New Yorker arrived in Detroit late in the afternoon, and, of course, immediately started to make the rounds of the retail hardware dealers, with the laudable purpose of selling each a good stock for the winter before the representative of any rival concern should put in an appearance. He had hoped to visit the object of his atrections in the evening, but business was brisk, and 8 o'clock found him very busy trying to induce a prominent dealer to take six dozen axes, four dozen grindstones, and a half-car load of wooden puils. At this stage of the proceedings a younger brother of the young lady dropped in to get a new jacknife, and accidentally mentioned that the Ann Arhor professor was up at the house. It instantly occurred to the progressive hardware and cutlery drummer that the college man had came for no other purpose than to lay his heart at the feet of the young lady he himself adored. For a moment there was a struggle in his heart, but he speedily got control of himself and decided that he could not possibly leave the store, as the dealer was just at the point of deciding to take the pails. But the thought of giving up the lady, who had been for months constantly on I his mind, waking and sleeping, was unbearable. Light suddenly dawned on j him. Handing the merchant a circu- | lar explaining the merits of his new I double-hladed chopping knives, he re- j quested the use of the dealer's tele- j phone for five minutes, stepped to it ! and rung up the central office. A moment later the telephone bell at j the residence of the young lady rang, i sharp and decisive. The professor had ; been there for an hour talking pleasant- 1 ly of the grand educational work they I were doing in the department of fos- J silology at Ann Arbor. When the hell ; rang, the lady's father being absent (he j being a physician,) she excused her- j self and proceeded to the adjoining room to answer it. The professor heard her step to the telephone and I say, "yes," make a short pause and I say "yes" again. Then there was a j longer pause, and he heard her reply : i "Why?why?really, this is very sud- I ilen." Then there was a still longer | pause, and he heard her say "yes" very j softly, and then "good-by," and then I she hung up the receiver, and came j into the back room. The college man moved closer to the lady, and rgmark- ; ih1 that it was a warm evening, and he j [bought it was going to rain, and then ; resumed his talk about the great work at the university. Fifteen minutes : later there was a ring at the front-door hell. The lady responded to it, and a district messenger boy handed her a ! plain gold ring, which she slipped on j lier finger, and returned to the par- i lor. "Miss ," said the professor, five minutes later, "I want to ask you a very important question tins evening. Kxeu.se ine for putting it bluntly; but will you be my wife ?" But we need go no futher with this, i Two minutes later the professor went j ilown the front steps and shook his fist [ lit the telephone wire, and took the first train for Ann Arbor. ^ UNEQUAL PUNISHMENT. I'robably few people are aware of the great difference in the severity of punishment for the same crime which exists in different States, but the mat- j ter bus been fully discussed in a paper > by Fred W. Wines, which was read at . the meeting of the National Prison as- i socialion at St. Paul. Mr. Wines j elaims that the existing penal system is ' unjust in some respects in almost every | State, and the facts given in support of bis statements are decidedly interestng. In some States there is no capi;al punishment for men, while in others ; :he death penalty is inflicted for what, I 11 comparison, arc minor crimes. If it t is right to spare the life of a man | who commits a brutal murder in Michigan, it certainly is wrong to hang a wretch who has been caught setting i ire to a dwelling at night, as is done I 11 Montana. Nearly all the Southern States pun- j sli arson with death, and in some bur- ! jlary is a capital crime. In Missouri } lie punishment for perjury is death, i while in New Hampshire, Connecticut 1 ind Kentucky the maximum sentence or perjury is five years. In Maine, Mississippi and Iowa, however, the | mrjurer may be sent to prison for life, [ while in Delaware the crime is punishible by fine. The severest punish- | nent inflicted in Delaware for incest is ; i fine of $100, in Virginia six months n jail, und in Louisiana the death penilty is exacted. It is clear that when the puuishment or a given crime varies from the exiction of a small fine to hanging, a ! great injustice is done somewhere, and i it is well that men are studying the question with a view to correcting the ) evil. ADVICK TO CHILDREN. The concluding paragraph of the will of the late Senator Gibson, of Louisiana, culls to mind the last advice the late Senator Hill, of Georgia, left in a similar way to his children. Senator i Gibson's will says: "I hope my sons may defer to and confide in my executors and trustees, and, above all, that they may realize early in life that the only one thing i more difficult to build up than an independent fortune, and more easy lost, ! is character, and that the only safej guard of character is the Ten Com I mandmentsand Christ's Sermon on the j Mount." Senator Hill urged in his will an earnest reminder to his children that the most priceless and desirable acquisition j was the Christian religion. Words like these, penned by dying statesmen, should fall with special force. These ! two men had opportunities to note the deceitfulness of politics, its temptation to violate the spirit of the Christian rej ligion. They had been in that busy j arena. The certain and near coming ! of death could send a flashlight down j the track. They could see the dani gers ahead and, by that almost supreme ' intuition which sometimes attends dy| ing men, could grasp the remedy. ! Then Gibson's dying words are worthy ; more than a passing notice. "The | only one thing more difficult to build ; up than an independent fortune, and more easily lost, is character, and the only safeguard of character is the Ten i Commandments and Christ's Sermon on the Mount." When a city is made ! up of men who have this "character," j that is a strong city, and the political ! pnrty which picks out the largest numi her of men who have this "character" 1 will be the largest benefit to the coun! try.?Richmond State. "THINHS." There are few words in the English ' language of such comprehensive appropriateness as the word "things." We put on and takeoff "things." We put I down and take up "things." We walk ! over "things," aud pick "things" up, : and put "things" away. We love J "things" and hate "things," and conI sider "things" and we think about I "things." We look beyond "things" i seen, to the "things" not seen. And J these are "things" temporal, and these i are "things" eternal. Aud each and every one of these I "things" has a different significance ! and belongs to a different class. There j are material "things" among them, and | immaterial "things." They are physi; eal and mental; of heaven and earth ; of time and eternity. A word of no | special definition, it designates everyj thing in turn. For it may he anything, j It may be nothing. It is.a facile snare to the slipshod j writer. Dilating on the beauties of | "everything," this "lovely thing," or that "exquisite thing," tempts him to ! rest satisfied with the yielding expression which saves search for a more specific word. It is the ready recourse of the shallow flatterer, who calls her friend a "sweet thing" as frequently as she speaks of her enemy as a "spiteful thing." It is the refuge of the lazy, the negligent, ignorant talker of any age, to whom the proper names of ari tides are superfluous so long as the ! .word "things" exists in the dictionary. So universally misused, abused, and I overworked is this general term that j the proper thing under the circumstances would be so far as possible to ignore it in our own conversation and in talk of other people, and to insist that ideas I be conveyed by words which mean ex; nctly what is intended to be expressed, instead of by a word which means anything or nothing at all.?Harper's Bazar. HEAVING THE ANCHOR. Sam Peraherton, who had been in younger days captain of a whaling vessel, was invited with his wife to take tea at a neighbor's, and during the meal someone passed the captain a plate of cheese, whereupon his wife became much agitated and exclaimed, "Sam Pemberton, you be careful how you eat cheese. You know how I have to suffer whenever you do." All who were seated about the table were curious to know how it was that Mrs. Pemberton should suffer when Mr. Pemberton ate cheese, and so the captain explained after this manner: "I'll tell ye what Mariar means. Ye see, about a week after I'd left tli' ship we were visitin' our daughter Jane, down in the city, and one night we hed for supper supper some cheese er good deal like this, an' as I like cheese I eat quite er lot 011 it. Waal, after I'd gone to bed I hed the greatest dream ye ever heered tell of. I dreamed that I was aboard me ole ship an there cum up such er storm as ye never see. I see there wasn't but one thing to do, so I yelled ter th' furst mate, 'Heave over th' bow anchor.' Wal, he tried, but somehow he couldn't do it, whereupon I sprang up an' yelled, 'Stand aside, ye landlubber, an' see me heave it.' An' after tugging a good deal, over it went. But would ye believe me, that ole bow anchor l>egun to boiler, 'Sam Pemberton ! Sam Pemberton, what are ye er doin'of?' Tliet waked me up, an' what dew ye s'pose I'd did? Instid of throwing over the bow anchor, I'd pitched Mariar out of bed!" The Latest Hero.?Jim Hoot, the engineer of the rescue train which was sent into the blazing forests of Minnesota, has won a place among these prosaic days when heroes are hard to find. The brave engineer had a long ride and it was at the risk of his life. The smoke suffocated liiin and for many a mile he could not see an inch in front of his engine. Sometimes the fire leaped out over the burning forest and darted through the windows of his cab. The eager flames licked his face and hands. His hair was burned to a crisp, and the man's tortures must have been unbearable. But the humble hero thought of the thousands in the forests and their certain doom if the rescue train failed to reuch them. That was enough for him. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, determined to make the trip or die. Jim got his train through, saved several hundred people, and made the return trip. He is more dead than alive; but tbe doctors say that he has a fighting chance for his life. If he lives he will bear many a scar; but there are people iu Minnesota who will feel like kissing every scar whenever they meet the man who went through the baptism of fire to save them. There is some genuine heroism still left in the world, and it is not mouopoi; 1 1 1 .'ru? n/.eu uy any one ciass. i nc jnum, tuiumoil man, drudging like a slave for his daily bread, is just as likely to prove himself a hero when the occasion comes as his neighbor who is his social superior. Jim Root dared more for his fellow man than many a great general would do with all the temptation of I fame to lure him on.?Atlanta Constitution. Fohkoudi nation.?Years ago an old hard shell preacher, who lived on J the border in the days when the Indians i were at war with the whites, was making preparations one morning to go to his church, miles away, through a | ' country infested with savages. He was carefully loading his tfintlook rifle to take along when a friend present remarked: "What are you going to take that j gun along for, old man ? Don't you ( know that if it is foreordained for the Indians to kill you the gun won't save you ?" "That's very true," said the old man as he deliberately rammed the hall 1 home, "but suppose it is foreordained I that the Indian shall be killed? Now 1 how would the good Lord carry out his purpose if I didn't have my gun along?" That closed the debate.?Summerville ! (Ga.)News. f - ? j The Best Detectives.?A French man naturally thinks the I'arisian dei tcctive the best. Englishmen swear by the shrewdness of Scotland Yard men, and Americans, of course, swear I by the New York detectives. After j three years' residence in China I do not I think either of the three bodies are en titled to the credit given them. The Chinese beat them all. They are at one time the most ex1 pert thieves and at another the most skilled detectives in the world. A Chinaman can steal your watch while you are looking at it, and he can catch : the man who stole it, if it happened to be some other than himself, when a French detective could not. I have seen evidences of detective ability among the Chinese which would startle even Dr. Conan Doyle. ' It is impossible for an evil-doer to long ! elude the Chinese detectives. They | scent a crime and follow it to the last 1 before civilized detectives know of it. The Chinese detective force is a secret body, and the best organized in the world. They have an eye upon every man, woman and child, foreign or native, in Chinu, and in addition, watch over each .other. Informers are encouraged, and collusion is impossible. The head of the Chinese force is not known, but there is one, and a very active one, too I have heard that the present head was once an ambassador to a European country ; but really do not believe that anyone knows who he is. There are said to be over over 00,000 men under him and his assistants, who control the 1 various districts. Mark a Business of It.?"What i church do you attend ?" was asked a I bright, attractive young fellow doing I business in one of our large cities, j "Oh, I just run around," he answerI ed, gaily. "I don't understand the difference between the churches; iu fact there is a great deal in the Bible itself that I don't understand, and until I do, of course I can't join any church." "How many hours a day do you spend studying this matter?" asked the questioner. "Hours?" he repeated in surprise. "Well, then, minutes?" i The young man was dumb. "Ah," said his companion, with paI ticnt sadness, "not one! If you i thought a knowledge of geology necessary to your your success in life?or astronomy, or shorthand?you would not think of spending less than one hour a day in its study, perhaps two, perhaps three, and you would not expect to know or understand it without that exertion. But the knowledge of God, of Jesus Christ , of salvation?the highest and deepest of all knowledge?you sit around and wait for it, as if it, would come like a flash of lightning!' Does any reader see a likeness to j himself in this young man of busi1 ness??Epworth Herald. j How to Bathk.?Avoid bathing ' ii'linti nvKoncIo/1 Kt? foliivlto ill* fi'Ani onu I nucu (TAIIUUiJKU l/J lUllgUV, Ul iiuiuuuj I other cause. Avoid bathing within j two hours after a meal. Avoid hath! ing when thehody is cooling after pers| pirution. Avoid bathing altogether in ; open air if it causes a sense of chilli ness with numbness of the hands and feet. Bathe when the body is warm, provided no time is lost in getting into ! the water. Avoid chilling the body by sitting or standing undressed on the banks, or in boats after having been in | the water. Avoid remaining too long j in the water; leave the water imme| diately there is the silghtcst feeling of | chilliness. The vigorous and strong may bathe early in the morning on an empty stomach. The young and those who are weak had better bathe two or three hours after a meal?the best time for such is from two or three hours after breakfast. Those who are subject to giddness or faintness, and those who : suffer from palpitation and other sense of discomfort at the heart, should not bathe without first consulting their : medical adviser. If the above rules were more generally known and atj tended to, many fatalities might be avoided during the bathing season. A Sample of a "Lkoknd."?It is not every one who knows where the i stone came from that is underneath | the seat of the coronation chair in I Westminister Abbey. The story is a 1 long one. It goes hack nearly to the Harden of Eden. After his expulsion ; from paradise, Adam built an altar 1 and worshipped before it. Upon it I Abel offered his sacrifice. After the deluge Noah rebuilt it, as it had fallen ! down. Agnin having fallen in ruins, i Abraham rebuilt it. Jacob gathered up the same stones and put them unI dcr his head for a pillow. By a mira| cle they were all melted into one. : This sacred stone was carried into j Spain, and thence into Ireland. One morning Conn, on his way up Tara : Hill stepped an it. The stone screamled, and out came a fairy prince, who ! revealed to Conn the future of Ireland. Hence, to the Irish, the stone was known as Lia Kail?the stone of destiny. Kings were crowned sitting upon ; it. Then it got into Scotland, because j the Stuarts traced their line to Conn ! of Tarn. Then it was natural for it to ; he made a part of the coronotion chair i of England. This is the legend. ! What is a legend, anyway? i The New Enlistment Law.? What is called tiio uuinwniio law nas been signed by the president, making some important changes in the condi: tions of enlistment in the I'nited I States army. Hereafter no alien can j be enlisted to become a soldier of the j United States army ; the recruit must be a native American or have taken out full citizenship papers. The term of enlistment henceforth is two years, and there is no provision, as at present for "buying out" before the term of enlistment has expired. The provision of the present law that no soldier shall re-enlist after ten years'service is repealed. The soldier must stay two | years, and he may stay thereafter un; til retired under the veteran act. The 1 young able-bodied American citizens | who wish to learn the life and duty of a soldier have now a better oportuniJ ty than ever before. A motorman on an electric car line in Spokane is quoted in the Seattle Telegraph as telling this storv : "My ,boss,"(referring to the president -r.u- ? * uia n Clixt I U1 IMC aircct CUl uuuijmui / 10 II inoi class financier, he is. Why, do you know that every Sunday he advertises for a servant, and Monday 20 or .'50 I girls ride out to his house near the end of the line to get the place, but find madam can't see them ; so they ride back and repeat the journey several times before they are finally told that the old girl has decided to stay awhile. Now, that's financiering. Fifteen cents paid out for advertisements, and $8 or $1) taken in for car fares to swell the annual dividends of the boss's company." J