Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lkwis >r. ciuisT, Proprietor.! . ^\ii jmlrpeiulent Jiamilij Jleu'spaper: .xt'or the promotion of the political, Social, f^rjcultiiral and (tlominercial Jntcrcsts of the ,?outh. jTERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL. 40 YOEIvVILLE, S. O., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER lO, 1894. NO. 41. ?? '! <?1?/\wf1i? n^/iwovil (unlr mr /In. I i * - -- - '? ' '? ' a \ t* ? ?... t.? 11./? *ir>(\ a THE LO ? ?* BY FERGUS Author of "The Mystc Copyright, 1S9J, by the Author. CHAPTER YIL After that iuterviow with Felix I rc- 1 turned forthwith to London. I had ac- i complislied tho object of my journey and did not caro about staying longer in Paris. My mind was much perturbed, as I was qnito unable to coino to any conclusion respecting tho episode at tho Fen inn. Beyond all doubt I had proved that Francis was at Marshmiuster, Fe- j lix in Paris. Who, then, was tho man I had met at tho inn? It was impossible that I could be mistaken in tho identity of my college friend, yet in the face of such evidence as I had gathered it was ridiculous to cling to my first impressions. There could not be three brothers j exactly alike in personal appearances, j and yet I had beheld threo men?at tho Fen inn, at Marshmiuster and in Paris ?who resembled eacn omer in inspect The more I pondered over tho mystery, the deeper did it become, and the more confused grew my brain. I began to thibk that I was tho victim of some hallucination, as I could explain the matter in no other way. ' With this idea, which was the only feasible one left to me, I took the ad- j vice of Felix and on my return to town \ went to see Dr. Merrick. He, a specialist on diseases of the brain, 'listened to I my story with great attention and questioned me closely on all points. "There is some trickery about this, Mr. Denham," he said after consideration. "You do not, then, think my meeting with Francis Briarfield was a hallucination?" I asked eagerly. "There is no hallucination about you, sir," was the comforting response. "You seem to me as sane and matter of fact a person as I ever met" "Then, if it is not hallucination, how do you account for my having met threo .4 men all exactly alike when I know : there are only two with that special appearance in existence?" "I think it is trickery," repeated : Merrick, nursing his chin. "This is more a case for a detectivo than for a doctor. Were I you, Mr. Denham, I would employ a good detective and probe the mystery thoroughly. Tho matter seems miraculous to you now, but I feel sure when you learn tho solution you will be surprised at its simplicity." "If I am sane, as you say and as I believe myself to be, I will thrash out ~ the matter myself." "Better get a trained man, Mr. Den- j ham. From what you have told me I 1 see you have to deal with a criminal of no ordinary intelligence. It is an ex- j traordinary case," mused the doctor, "and I do not wonder at tho fascina- j tion it seems to exercise over you. | Were I in your place" "Were you in my place?" seeing he j hesitated. "Here am I setting up for a lawyer," j 6aid Merrick quaintly. "To tell you the honest truth, Mr. Denham, you have \ ? inoculated me with detectivo fe\ er. I should like to solve this problem my- ' self. Criminal investigation has always i been rather a hobby of mine. In my , business I meet with some queer expe- 1 rieuces. There are more insane people in the world than you think." "Tell mo your ideas, doctor, and I'll carry them out and report progress." "Good! I'll be the sleeping partner," hA Raid in an amused tone, "but I warn you, Mr. Deuhani, that from what I see of this case it will bo ono of great diffi- j culty and may take months to work out" "I don't mind that. It is nothing to an idle man liko myself, but I am afraid, Dr. Merrick, I take up your val* j uable time." "Oh, lean spare a few minutes," said the doctor quickly. "I work hard i enough, so it is permitted to even a professional man to indulge occasionally in some amusement This case is so to j me." "Well, and your idea?" "In the first place, I am inclined to agree with your ideas of Felix passing himself off as Francis." "I have abandoned that idea," said I dolefully. "I saw Felix in Paris." "Wait a moment," replied Merrick. "We'll come to that later on. Furthermore, I believe it was Felix you met at Marshmiuster?Felix, who called himself Francis and posed as the lover of Miss Bellin." "But I saw him in Paris," said I, again clinging to that undeniable fact "I know you did, but the pretended Francis of Marshminster and the real Felix of Paris are one and the saino person." "You mean that he followed me over," I cried, suddenly enlightened. "Precisely, and suborned the managei of the Hotel des Etraugers." "But why should he do that?" "Can't you see?" said Merrick impatiently. "Felix wants to put a stop to your following up this case. From your story it is quite probable that he killed his brother through Strent. The whole circumstances of that lone inn are very suspicious. Your unforeseen arrival on that night complicated matters. You saw how unwilling they wero to admit you. Had you not arrived Francis would have vanished from the world, and none would have been a bit wiser. But when you caino to Bellin Hall Felix saw a now source of danger not only to his character, but to his life. He asked for a night's grace. During that night ho r went himself totho Fen inn and hid the corpso in some bog hole " "Impossible!" "I'll stake my lifo that it is so," said Vf/v?4 4 \f ol*o {n/iniri'uc a fn "I'll stake my life it is so," mild Merrick calmly. tho movements of Felix Briarfield on that night, and I'll lay anything you'll find ho went to tho Fen inn. " "That, then, "said I, "was tho reasou ho was so ready to go there next , morning with me." "Exactly! Ho knew well, thanks to his forethought, that there was 110 evidence there to convict him of a crime, and he could still keep up his imposture. So far all was in his favor, but your obstinacy raised a new danger. You said you would go to Paris and satisfy yourself of the existenco of Felix. Now, then, you remained two days in London." "Yes. I was not quito sure whether it was worth whilo carrying on tho matter. " "It was a pity you wasted so much time," said Merrick, "for Felix took advantage of your negligence to slip to Paris and lay a trap for you. In plain words, he disappeared from Marshminster as Francis and reappeared in Paris as Felix." "Ho might have dono so. But don't you think I would have guessed tho identity of tho one with the other?" ne inn. J "W. HUME, sry of a llansom Cab.'' ? "How could you," saicl the doctor, "when the twins aro aliko in every rospect? And, moreover, you firmly belioved Olivia Bellin's lover was in Marslimiustcr." "But if I go down at onco to Marshminster I'll detect the absence of Felix and so guess what has taken place." "If you go down to Marshmiuster, you'll find Felix back again in his old place." "Then Paris?" I queried uneasily. I was beginning to see I had been duped. "You forget Mr. Felix of Paris has gono to Italy and left no address. It's all safo there, and as ho said he was going to the east for six months or so there will bo plenty of time for the pre1 tended Francis to marry Olivia." "You don't believe that Felix of Paris has gono to Italy or the cast?" "Of course not I believe lie arranged all theso matters to baffio your prying -- 1 1 i UUU Ult'll CiUUlljr reiumai IU jmunuimuster." "But the mauager of the hotel?" "Ho is in the pay of Felix. You'll get nothing out of liim. Now, I am certain that is the explanation. Arc you not surprised at its simplicity?" "Yes, Iain. It is astonishing I never thought of it befora " "Columbus and his egg once again," said Merrick grimly. "Well, what are you going to do next?" "To drive to Marshminster and find out the movements of Felix on the night after tho murder." "Quito so, but first satisfy yourself on tho subject of Francis." "What do you mean?" I asked. "What day of the month were you at the Fen inn?'' continued Merrick. "On the 10th of June." I 'Good! Francis there told you that ho had just arrived from Chile. Now find out what boat he came by, look up his name in the passenger list and ascertain the date on which the true Francis arrived in England. That point established, you can prove tho false Francis to bo an impostor." "Au excellent idea," said I, starting to my feet. "I'll see about it at once." "And mind," said Merrick, raising his forefinger, "I expect to be kept fully advised of tho case." "Never fear, doctor. You arc excellent at solving puzzles. When I find another nut, I'll bring it to you to crack." "Do! I tako great interest in this sort of cases. I ought to have been a lawyer instead of a doctor." "I'm thankful for my own sake you are the latter," said I, shaking his hand. "Goodby, doctor. I am greatly obliged for the kind interest you have taken in this case." "Pure selfishness, I assure you, "replied Merrick, and so I took my leave. Before searching tho shipping lists I 6ent two telegrams, one to the manager of tho Hotel des Etraugers, asking if Mr. Felix Briarfield was still there; the other to my Aunt Jane, inquiring whether Mr. Francis Briarfield was in Marshminster. This business having been dispatched, I took a hansom to the city and saw a merchant of my acquaintance. He was an old friend and willing to obligo mo in every way. "Chambers," said I when in his office. "I want to find out a ship that arrived in London from Chile during the present month." "During June," said Chambers. "Well, there's no difficulty about that. What is her name?" "That is ouo of the things I wish to find out; also tho names of tho passengers." "Come with mo to tho Jerusalem," said Chambers, picking up his hat. "You'll find therolier name and agents. Go to tho agents, and they will supply you with a list*of passengers. What's up now?" "Nothing particular," I answered carelessly. "I have reason to believe a friend of niiuo returnod from South America this mouth, and I want to make certain.'' "Well, if he came tinder his own name, you'll have no difficulty in doing so. Here's the Jerusalem!" This is, it is well known, a shipping club for the convenience of merchants. It tells them all about ingoing and outgoing vessels, gives information regarding cargoes and in fact supplies all kinds of knowledge useful to those who have argosies afloat. Chambers was well acquainted with the mode of procedure, so I let him do all the work. It was now the 10th of June, and as Francis had informed me he had arrived during the mouth there was not much difficulty in finding what I wanted. "Here you are," said Chambers, beckoning to me. "Only oue ship this month from Chile?a steamer, the Copiapo. Arrived on the titli of June. Dane & Paxton, 45 Devereux lane." I copied this down in my notebook, refused Chambers' hospitable invitation to luncheon and went off at once to Devereux lane. Hero I had no difficulty in seeing the passenger list of the Copiapo, and one of the first names I set my eyes on was Francis Briarfield. "This puts the matter beyond all doubt," said I, making a note of this. "If Francis Briarfield did not arrive in London till the 6th of this month, he cannot bo the man now bearing his name at Bellin Hall." I was now perfectly satisfied that Merrick's idea was correct. In order to confuse and throw me off the scent, Felix had followed me to Paris and appeared in propria persona. But for the doctor's suggestion of tho shipping list I should not have been able to prove this, but now I held incontrovertible evidence in my hands to prove that Felix was trading on tho marvelous resembianco between his brother and himself. Francis had arrived in England on the 6th of June, he had met lue at the Fen inn on the loth and had tln-re been foully done to death by his brother through " ' I ,1... mini puny, jmu i >>u.> u?jv> wh mw 1 trail and hoped to run to earth lioth the unnatural lirother and his vile tool. I felt like the hero of some \vild romance. On returning to my rooms in Duke street I wrote oil at once to Merrick, telling him of my success in proving the identity of Francis with the man who had been slain at the lone inn. It now remained for me to go down to Marshminster and there make inquiries as to the movements of Felix on the night in question. ! I felt confident that I could pursue such a search without hindrance, as ho would be quite satisfied that I would now rest after the Paris episode. No man in his senses would search for a dead man when that man had been conclusively proved to be alive. So Felix doubtless thought and rejoiced in his cleverness in thus putting an end to my inquiries. Put mark how ironical is fate. Felix advised me to consult a doctor about my hallucination, as ho chose to call it. I took that advice and saw Merrick. Merrick had nullified all his plans by solving the riddle with which Felix was trying to battle me. It was hard on Felix to thus be the means of pointing the way to his own destruction. Put then fate is so ironical. That afternoon I received answers to my telegrams. The first, from Paris, stated that Mr. Felix Priarfield had started for Italy; the second, from Marshminster, informed me that Francis Priarfield was staying at Bellin Hall. "No, "said I, on reading these telegrams, "Felix Priarfield did not leave ! Paris for Ifaly, but for Marshminstcr, | aiul Francis Briarficld, poor soul, is not ' at Bellin Hall, but lying in tlio Essex i marshes.'' That night at 5 o'clock I left for t Marshmiuster. i CHAPTER VIII. The drama of "Tho Prodigal Son" was enacted over again when I returned i to Marshminstcr. My aunts had greatly resented my sudden departure for ParI is and announced that they this time j iiifnnrlnd f,\ Irnnn Itlfl With tJlOUl foV ' some weeks. I had 110 objection to this { arrangement, as I anticipated a long and laborious task in ferreting out evidence against Felix. The first tiling to be dono was to learn all that had taken , j place in my absence, and tho informa- j tion was ably supplied by Aunt Jane, { seconded by her sister. I inquired about j Briarfield and his fiancee, i "Bellin Hall is to bo shut up next I week," said Aunt Jane. "Tho Bellins aro going to town and with them Mr. J Briarfield." "I wonder they staid hero so long when tho season was on in London," said Aunt Sophia, "but it was all that foolish Mrs. Bellin. She chose to con- j } sider herself ill and so insisted upon re- , i maining here. Now she can't resist the attractions of town life any longer and : I goes next week." I "Sho has to arrango about tho wed' ding, Sophia. You know it takes placo in July. I wouder if Mr. Felix Briarfield will be back in time to bo best I man." "That I can safely say is impossible," said I dryly. "But why?" exclaimed both the old ladies, scenting news. "Well, he has gone to Italy and from there goes to tho east," I answered, unwilling to tell the truth. "I don't see J j how he can return in time for the wed- i ding if it takes placo in July." i aiy icmaxe relatives iookou wguvi* cantly at one another. I "What did I tell you, Sophia?" said | Aunt Jane, in a tone of subdued tri- ' umph. "Yes, sister, you are right," sighed Sophia, shaking her head. "Poor young : ruan I I thought myself ho loved Olivia.'' j "Who loved Olivia?" I asked sharply, j "Felix Briarfield," said Aunt Jane, j | "When his brother went to America, he was always with her and 110 doubt ! loved her dearly. I can scarcely wonder at that, as she is so beautiful a girl, j But he behaved very well, and when Francis canio back went to the conti- j : nent. "Ho was unable to tear the sight of j ! his brother's happiness," said Aunt So! phia sentimentally. "Poor young maul j I havo 110 doubt his heart is broken. Ho j actually left Marshminster before his j \ brother arrived from America, so as to i | spare himself the painful sight of their j happiness." I saw by this conversation that my ! surmise was correct. Felix had fallen in I lovo with Olivia while his brother was j | in America, and selfishly determined I not to give her up had devised tho idea j of passing himself off as Francis. With j this in his mind ho had gone to Paris and pretended to stay there, then reapj peared to Marshminster as Francis, alleging an earlier return from Chile as an excuse. When Francis really returned, Felix asked him to be at the Fen inn so as to rid himself of his brother before he could see Olivia. Whether he intended to kill Francis or to merely explain matters I could not tell, but at all events Francis had been murdered, and I firmly believed that Felix was morally guilty of the crime. Tho suppression of the letters, tho sub stitutiou cf himself as Francis ami tho dexterous manner in which ho had rid himself of tho corpse, according to Merrick's theory, all showed mo that I had a dangerous and reckless man to deal with. But after the clever way in which he had baffled me in Paris by resuming j his namo I was prepared for any vili lainy at his hands. Hit had committed j | himself so far that he could not draw : ! back and was compelled to follow crime ! by crimo in order to bolster up his po! sition. Ho was going to town with the evident intention of evading mo. Doubtless he thought that, deceived by tho episode | at the Hotel des Strangers, I had quite abandoned all idea of meddling in tho affair. But for Merrick I should certainly have dono so. Now that Merrick saw the matter in the same light as I did I was determined to go 011, but resolved'to give 110 hint of this to Felix. ! ' When ho left Marshminster, I could , pursue my inquiries at leisure. Already I had been too rash in revealing my in- j ' tcntions, for had I not mentioned my j journey to Paris Felix would not have been put 011 his guard and baffled mo so adroitly. I had at least gained one important piece of information, which in itself was sufficient to break off tho match, j The passenger list of the Copiapo proved j conclusively that Francis had not reach- > ed England before tho (5th of June, and this shown to Olivia would show that Felix was passing himself off as her lover. ! With* such proof I could stop the marriage immediately, but preferred to wait ! | until I gained further evidence impli- j eating him in the murder of his j brother. I believed Merrick's theory to ; I be true and quite expected to find that Felix had ridden out to the Fen inn for the purpose of hiding his brother's body in one of the bog holes. "By the way," I asked Aunt Jane as wo parted for the night, "how does j Miss Bellin look? Like a happy bride, j eh?" "By no means," replied my aunt solemnly. "She looks ill and miserable. ! But that I know this marriage with 1 Francis is a love match I should say she disliked the idea of becoming his wife." 1 "No doubt," thought I, "no doubt i Olivia mistrusts Felix already." I said good night to niv elderly relative and went off to bed. Instead of turning in, I lighted my pipe and leaned j out of the window, thinking deeply. I Could it be possible that Olivia had discovered tho imposture? If so, why did sho tamely submit to marry a man . j whom she must know was guilty of his j brother's and her lover's death? More over, if sho was assured of this, sho ' must also have condemned the deception j at tin; Hotel di's Ktrangers. Her con- I duct seemed strange, yet I could not j bring myself to believe that she knew i | the truth. If sho did, she was as bad as I Felix. "Sho must think that he is really : 1 Francis and that Felix is in Paris," I | thought. "Surely sho would not will- ; . ingly go to the altar with a man whom she knows to be a villain. No! He has thrown dust in her eyes and made her believe what ho pleases. I must save tho poor girl from such a fate. Perhaps in spite of outward semblance she in- 1 I stinetivelv feels that Felix i* not Fran- i j cis. women navo tneir liisnncrs. 1 know of 110 other reason why she should j look pale and ill." I My cogitations were cut short by 1 Aunt Jano knocking at the door and telling 1110 not to waste tin; candles. I j was used to these little idiosyncrasies ! of my aunts, so I answered that I was j going to bed and put out the light at I once, but the rest of the night was passed in a wakeful state. Truly I had a | bad attack of detective fever. For the next few days I kept very 1 quiet, as I was unwilling to rouse the j j suspicions of Felix. At length my aunts, { who entertained 110 suspicion of my designs, informed 1110 that he had gono to London with Mrs. and Miss Bellin. Tho coast- now being clear, I ventured out and began to work out my carefully | laid plans. In tho first place, I went to Bob Fuutly to hire a horse. It was my intention j to ride out to tho Fen inn and thoroughly cxamino tho rooms, as I fancied Fe. lix might havo hidden tho eorpso in tho house. From Fundy I gained a pioco of I unexDocted information. "Want to rido to the Fun inn, sir," I said lie, scratching his head. "Why, j whatever's como over that old ruin? i Every one seems to bo going there." "What do you mean, Fnndy?" "First Mr. Briarfield and now you," I 6aid Fundy. "Blest if I can understand it, though, to bo sure, ho rode there at | night, and you go in the daytime." "Did Mr. Briarfield go to the Fen i inn at night?" I asked, seeing I w:is on the evo of learning something important. I had not forgotten Merrick's theory. "That ho did, sir. Ho rode there two nights over a week ago." "Curious," said I, with assumed care- j lessuess. "It is not an attractive place. I daro say ho only rode a littlo way out , of the town." "No, sir," said Fundy decisively, j "Ho went to the Fen inn. Ho told mo so himself, as I noticed his liorso was | dono up. Look here,'' added Fundy, opening his daybook. "See, 011 tho j 10th of Juno ho had a liorso mid on tho ! 11th. Both at night and did not return till niifliiifrVit. " I mounted my horse and rode away, j thinking deeply. If Felix had gouo to . tho Fen inn on tho 10th, then I felt } 6ure that ho had actually murdered his brother. Hitherto I believed that Strent I was tho guilty party, but now, thanks j to tho evidenco of Fundy, I saw that j Felix had committed tho crime. Ho had also ridden to tho inn on the 11th i in order to conceal the body. Merrick's | theory was thus proved to bo correct. Link by link I was putting tho chain together. I had proved that Francis j hod not arrived in England till the Gth of Juno and so made certain of tho identity of Felix. I had discovered that Felix was at tho inn on tho fatal night, and also that ho had concealed the body. Now I wished to discover how tho murder was committed. Tho Fen inn was quite deserted and as evil looking as ever. In spito of my ' searching, I discovered no signs of tho dead body of my friend. Tho clothes, i which I had seen folded on tho chair be- j 6ide tho bed, were also gone, and there was not tho slightest thing left to excite ' suspicion. "Ho must have hidden tho body in i the marshes," I thought after a vain search. "I'll seo if he has loft a trail." ! Struck by the feasibility of this idea, I went out at the front door and examined tho ground. It was moist and muddy owing to tho incessant percolation of marshy water. Tho path leading from Marshminster was marked confusedly Willi Horses UUUiK| fc?u it >v<ia i|unu uov i less to look for a trail in that direction. j Looking from the door of tho inn, the ! path trended to tho right, but on tho left, whero tliero was 110 path, I noticed hoof marks; also that tho lush grass was trodden down. "Hero is tho trail," said I, mounting my horse. "Ho took tho body to tho left" Following tho trail carefully, and it was plainly discernible owing to tho dampness of tho ground, I rodo straight j out for somo considerable distance. Tho j spungy marsh jetted black water under J tho feet of tho horse, and it seemed as j though I wero i 11 danger of being bogged. 1 Nevertheless, as tho trail continued in i front of me, I followed it. Where Felix could go I could follow. He had evidently placed tho bod}' of his brother across his saddle and ridden with it in this direction. I'wondered at tho nervo of tho scoundrel. Unexpectedly tho trail turned off at i right angles and led toward a broad pond of water slimy and sullen in ap- j pearance. O11 the verge of this tho trail | ceased, and then I knew that I saw be- | foro 1110 tho tomb of Francis Briar field. | Into these black waters the murderer had hurled his victim, and doubtless if tho pool wero dragged tho body would j bo found. This I determined to do be- ! foro taking further steps in tho matter, j "Then, Mr. Felix Briarfield," said I, I riding back to tho inn, "then we will ' seo how much your astuteness will avail j you." It was lato in tho afternoon when I got back to the inn, and tho cold vapors i of tho marsh made 1110 shiver. As I am ! subject to rheumatism, I was afraid of future sufferings, so, having somo bran- ; dy 111 my Mask, determined to ngnc u j firo for the purpose of heating water j and comforting myself with a hot drink. Thero was plenty of fuel about, and I had matches in my pocket. I began to rake the dead ashes out of tho dining : room grate when I disturbed an oblong ; pieco of flint, which rattled onto tho hearth. j All ideas of lighting a fire wero forgotten as I stood with that in my hand. It was an arrowhead. I handled it gin- i gerly, for J know well that it was steeped in poison, and that with this Francis had been murdered. I saw at once what had taken place. ( Felix had arrived and had gone up to his brother's room. Holding the flint with tho razorlike edge outward, he had shaken hands with his brother and so wounded him. A quarrel had ensued, j but Francis, not thinking he was poi- ! soned, never dreamed of his danger. Then ho had fallen dead, and Felix, j placing tho body on the bed, had ro- : turned to the dining room and flung tho poisoned arrowhead into tho fire. Tho most astounding thing was that I j had not been awakened by tho outcry of Francis, but I suppose I was quite worn out by my walk and in too deep a I Bleep. Nevertheless it was strange that I had heard neither tho arrival of Felix nor the struggle which must have taken | place. Possibly I had been drugged. With this damning pieco of evidence i in my pocket, wrapped up in paper, for I feared the poison for myself, I rodo back to Marshminster, wondering how Felix had hit upon such a terribly ingenious fashion of removing his brother. So far as I knew, he had not traveledmuch and would not be likely to have any savage weapons in his possession, yet he could not have owned a flint arrowhead in tho ordinary run of things. This puzzled me greatly. I returned the horso to Fumly without making any remarks, and thorough ly tired out went early to rest, still puzzling over that arrowhead. Before dawn I solved the mystery. In the entrance hall of the Bellins' house a perfect armory of savage weapons was arrayed against the wall. There wero 1 clubs, arrows, bows, mats and grinning j heathen gods. Doubtless Felix, know- , ing tlio arrows to be poisoned, had tak- i en the flint head of one in order to put i his brother to death. As early as I j could I went to Bellin Hall to satisfy , myself on this point. The hall was a show place, as it pos- j sessed a line picture gallery, so I had little difficulty in gaining admission ! from tlie woman in charge. Requesting permission to examine the warriorliko implements patterned against the hall wall, 1 narrowly observed the arrows. It was as I thought?one of the arrows was missing, and Felix had stolen it in order to kill his brother. I did not take ! much interest in the pictures after such a discovery, and tlio talic or the housekeeper fell unheeded on my ears. Finally I gave her a sovereign and left the i house, impatient to be alone and think over my discoveries. I had now sufficient evidence to prove ' that Felix had killed Francis and suf- ; ficient to warrant having him arrested, j If the pool were dragged, the body would bo found with the ragged wound of the j flint arrowhead on the right hand. I ! could prove the finding of the arrow- J head in the ashes and how it had been taken from Bollin Hall. Fundy could j give evidence to Felix having taken a i liorso to the Feu inn on the 10th and also on the 11th. And altogether tlio evidence against Felix was clearly sufli- j cient to hang him. Still I did nothing rashly, and Leiuro taking lux liar pro- j ceedings returned to London to consult ; Merrick. His advice, I knew, would bo j judicious. ' CHAPTER IX. Dr. Merrick was delighted to sco me agaiu so speedily and assured mo that ho had thought of nothing elso hut the lono inn crime. Tho peculiar circumstances of tho case fascinated him greatly. "Decidedly I should ho a detective," ho said laughingly. "I have heen inventing all kinds of theories in connection with this matter. By tho way, my idea of searching tho shipping list was a good ono." "Excellent. You received my letter?" "I did, with much pleasure. So Francis did not arrivo in England until tho 6th of June?" "No I Therefore it was Francis whom I met at tho Fen inn, who was killed hy his brother, and it is Felix who now passes himself ofF to Olivia Bellin as Prmims. " "Does she not guess tho imposture?" "No. So fur as I can see, she firmly believes Felix to bo Francis. You were also right about tho hiding of tho corpse." "You don't say so?" cried Merrick, highly delighted. "Did Felix rido out to tho Fen inn nnd hide tho body, as I surmised?" "Ho did. I liavo tho evidenco of tho livery stablo keeper to prove that ho hired u horso on tho 11th and did not return till midnight." "During which timo ho disposed of his brother's body?" ''Precisely. I tracked his horso's hoof marks to tho pool wherein I nm convinced the body lies hidden." "Egad! You aro a wonderful man, Denham. Did you have tho pool dragged for tho body?" "Not yet. I wished to tell you all my discoveries beforo doing so." "Many thanks. I am so interested in this ease that it is a great pleasure for mo to follow it step by step." ' 'I wish no thanks from you, Merrick," said I heartily. "It is rather the other way, as your reasonings have led mo to these important discoveries: First, that Felix was in Paris; second, that Francis did not arrive from Chile till this mouth, and, third, that Felix himself hid tho corpso. By myself I should never have discovered so much. But I have rnado oue most famous discovery." "Yes? And that is?" "I know how tho crime was committed and by whom." "You don't say so!" exclaimed Merrick in much excitement "Have you seen Strent?" "No. It was not Strent who killed Francis Briarfield. " "You don't mean to say is was Roso Strent?" "No. It was Felix himself." Merrick uttered an exclamation of surprise and remained silent for a few minutes. "But you said yourself that Felix never camo to the inn on that night," ho objected. "So I thought, but it appears that I was mistaken. Fundy, the livery stable 14-i-vlrl win flinf i -v liirnrl fl IU1U UiU UiUV A ViiA M MV.MV from him ou tho 10th and lltli of Juno. On botli occasions ho did not return till midnight. Now, Francis was murdered on thu 10th, and his corpse disappeared on tho 11th. Felix is therefore responsible for both tho murder and tho concealment of the body." "That is purely circumstantial evidence." I laid down tho arrowhead on the table. "This is proof positive," I said triumphantly. "With that piece of flint Francis was killed." "Really," said Merrick skeptically, picking up the arrowhead. "With such a clumsy instrument he must have bungled tho job considerably." "Not at all. That arrowhead is steeped in virulent poison." "Tho deuce!" cried Merrick, dropping it hastily. "Why did you not warn mo of its danger? I might havo cut myself and gone tho same way as poor Francis Briarlield. How do you know the murder was so executed?" "I told you about tho discolored wound in tho palm of tho right hand." Merrick nodded. "Well," I continued, "that was tho causo of death, as thero was neither Bcratch nor violence on any other part of the body. I picked up that arrowhead in the fireplace of the dining room of tho Fen inn, where it had doubtless been thrown by Felix after tho committal of the crime." "Where did he get the arrowhead?" "That is just what puzzled mo for a long time. Fortunately I remembered that the entranco to Bellin Hall was decked with a perfect armory of savage weapons. I made an excuse of looking at tho picture gallery and so gained admission to the hall." "Did you find anything likely to confirm your suspicions?" "Yes. I found that an arrow had been removed from tho wall. " "How could you tell that?" "Because tho weapons were arranged in patterns, and one of the patterns was incomplete. Moreover, on comparing that arrowhead with those on the wall I found it was precisely similar in appearance. '' "Humph," said Merrick thoughtfully. "There is only one deduction to bo taken from all this. Felix stole tho arrowhead, and knowing it to be poisoned rodo to tho Fen inn to kill his brother. He is a clever scoundrel.'' "Very clever indeed," I answered dryly. "But for you, Merrick, ho would havo baffled 1110 altogether." "I think you have him this time," said Merrick, laughing. "Now, what do you intend to do next?" "Have tho pool dragged for the body and Felix Briarlield arrested. " "Before doing so it would be advisable to find Rose Strent or her father." "Why so?" "Because they only can give positivo evidence as to the committal of tho crime. Failing them, Felix may slip through your fingers." "They won't show up or give evidence for their own sake." "In that caso they must be found and forced into confession," said tho doctor quickly. "And what about Felix and Miss Bellin?" "They aro now in town?Mrs. and Miss Bellin in Swansea square and Felix at his chambers in Jermyn street." "I wonder if Felix is still in communication with Rose Strent," queried Merrick half to himself. "It's not impossible. Whatever Rose Strent was or is, sho is not a waiting maid. I believe some guilty bond unites tho pair, and Rose assisted Felix in his scoundrelly schemes out of pure love.'' "Hardly," responded Merrick. "If Rose loved Felix, she would not assist liim to marry Olivia, and by removing Francis she certainly did so." "How would it do to seo Felix at his chambers and bully him into confession?" "You won't manage that. Your man is too clever." "Ho can't do much against tho proofs in my possession." "IIo'll deny anything." "At all events, I'll try, Merrick. This evening I'll call on Felix and swear that I am going to have him arrested for the murder of his brother. That will bring him to his knees." "'It might, and it might not. Bettor look for Rose Strent." "If any one knows where she is to bo found, it is Felix. I can't do better than bco him." ' 'Try it by all means,'' said tho doctor doubtfully, "but I'm afraid you won't get much satisfaction out of him. First find Rose Street, liavo tho pool dragged and tho body found. Then, what with the evidence of Fundy and that arrowhead, you will have no difliculty in getting a warrant for his arrest. At present Felix will simply order you out of his rooms." "I'll run the risk of that," I answer t'U iillll niilUUJ (Uttl uuiu tuun IIIJ uu I p:irture. I could not now complain of lack of interest in my life. It took mo all my timo to keep the many details of this i case in mind. There was no doubt that I had already solved tho mystery, and i that Felix was guilty of his brother's j death. Yet, as Merrick said, it would bo necessary to find the body and thus establish conclusive proof of tho crime before the murderer could be convicted, j When this was dono, tho evidence in hand would bo sufficient to insure his condemnation. For my part, I believed ; that ho would be driven into a corner and forced to confess his complicity in 1 tho crime. Firmly convinced of this man's guilt, i I whs determined ho should not marry ! Olivia. The crime had been committed J ! for her sake, and seeing that lie had bo- ! ; haved in so cowardly a fashion it was j a fit retribution that ho should not | achieve his purposo. It was no uso to i warn Olivia as to tho truo character I of Felix, as she firmly believed him to | i bo Francis and wonld decline to believe my story. Under theso circumstances I j judged it advisable to see Felix at his i chambers and warn him that I know all. Terrified by the predicament in j which he found himself, he might leave | j England, and thus Olivia would bo saved from lifelong misery. His punishI meut for tho crime would occur later on, as, notwithstanding his flight, ho : j could bo arrested on the continent whilo j extradition treaties wero in force. After dinner I therefore went to call on Felix. His rooms wero in Jermyn street, and as mine wero just around the corner in Duke street I had not far to i go. My visit was paid on tho chance of j | finding him in, as I did not wish to put I him on his guard by notifying him of my ; wish for an interview. As tho twins, in : j spite of constant disagreement, occupied ( tho samo rooms, I could not but wonder at tho nerve of Felix in coming back to tho apartments whero every f.-yniliar | object would remind him of his fratricidal act. i It was just at 8 o'clock when I reach; ed tho door of the chambers. At tho foot j of the stairs I found tho caretaker ensconced in a glass box liko an insect j To him I addressed myself. Ho was an old friend of mino and rather an oddity j in his way. "Is Mr. Briarfield within?" "Mr. Francis Briarfield is in his rooms," said the caretaker, "but Mr. Felix is in Paris. " Of course I guessed that this would j l bo tho answer and secretly admired tho j | dexterity with which Felix had carried j out his plans. Doubtless in the end, when his brother did not return, or rather i when his pretended self did not reap! pear, ho would account for it by an ac! - 1 .1 i... TT ciaeilt in uio eastern uesons. .huwovul, | my business was with Felix, alias Fran; cis, so I mado no comment 011 tho caretakor's remark. "Pray take up my card to Mr. Briarfield, "I said. "I want to seo him at , onco." j "I can't tako it up now," said the j j caretaker civilly. "Mr. Briarfield is I engaged and gave particular orders that ; lio was not to bo disturbed." "Ah, but doubtless I10 is engaged ; with a friend of mine," I hinted am: biguously. "Is tho lady a friend of yours, sir?" A lady I My thoughts at once revert- i ed to lioso Strent, but then tho chances wero that it might bo Olivia. "Yes. Miss Bellin." "That's tho young lady, sir, to whom Mr. Briarfield is engaged?" asked tho caretaker, who was a confirmed gossip. "Yes." "It is not her, sir. I know her well by sight, as sho has been hero with Mrs. Bellin. It's another lady." My surmise was right, and I felt con- ' j fident that while I stood there Felix j was having an interview with his ac- | | complice. I could not disturb them, yet | wished to assure myself of tho identity j ! of Rose Strent. When I found out all ! j about her, thero might bo a possibility j I of solving tho mystery. "Well, no matter," I answered care! lessly, stuffing tho card back into my | case. "I'll seo Mr. Briarfield another I time." j "Will you leave your name, sir?" "No, it doesn't matter. I'll call j j about 9 011 tho chanco of finding him 1 in." J Having thus baffled tho inquiries of tho caretaker, I strolled into tho street, and taking up my station at tho corner ' 1 ? - ? if pma i AL'JJU my ujta uu uiu uuut. -.-v-v : Strent was with Felix, sho must ceri tainly como out In a short time. Then i I intended to follow her up and speak ; to her if I got u chance. Failing Briar, field, I might possibly extort a confes- ; j sion from the weaker vessel. In about a quarter of an hour tho j woman came out. Sho wore no veil, ! and as it was still fairly light I had no j difficulty in seeing her face. Sho passed hurriedly by mo in the direction of tho Haymarket without observing me, and \ i I recognized her at a glance. It was, as { I thought, Rose Strent nnd none other. ! In place of the waiting maid's linen dress, sho was arrayed in a smart tailor made costume and looked very foshion! able indeed. Her faco.woro a triuni| pliant expression, as though she had I been successful with Felix. I guessed : the interview had been for tho purposo j of extorting blackmail. With her knowl| edge of his secret Felix was certainly at her mercy. Following her up at some little distance, sho went down the Haymarket j and turned down one of tho side streets, tnriinfl nfT tlinro into a dirtv allev and 1 It wan Itnuc Strcnt and nunc other. I finally disappeared into a swing door ; | over which was a lamp inscribed with j j some letters. I looked up and saw writ' ten thereon, "Stage door." "An actress," said I and went round j to tlio front of tho theater to inspect tho j j play hill. It was the Frivolity theater, [ : and they were playing tho burlesque of ! "As You Don't Like It." Glancing ' down tho list of characters, I saw that I ! Orlando was played by Miss Rosu Ger11011. j "A leading lady," I thought, trans- i fixed with astonishment. "A burlesquo < I actress doubtless, in tho receipt of a j good salary. What in heaven's name i took her to tho Fen inn?" This question I was of course unable j to answer, but I guessed it had seine! thing to do with love and Felix BriarI field. Leaving the matter alone for a : few moments, I secured a stall and en- ; , tered the theater. When Orlando came I ' on, I was thoroughly satisfied. Rose | Strent was Rose Gernon, and I had seen i her play the part of waiting maid at ! tho Fen inn on the 10th of Juno, that futal night of tho murder. TO UKCONTIN 1?Kl? NKXT WKKK. ! Separate Classen For Citiiimunlon. A church at Fostoria, O., has decided i to purchase *100 little wineglasses, that I each communicant may receive the wine out of a glass no other person has used, in order to avoid microbes. This seems to be a case where cold, practical materialism has entered tho very precincts ?f the spiritual.?Indianapolis New a IttwrrUanrous KOKKAN WIlMKX. Korean women of the upper eluss live u life of seclusion, they do notll- ; ing at all: they are totally uueducated,and they are allowed to see no one | hut their husbands, parents and a very few female friends. A woman belonging to the upper classes never appears before strangers, and she never goes in the street exposed to view. Mow j monotonous their existence becomes is 1 known only to themselves, as they have not yet learned to complain, j The horny-handed daughters of the soil arc more to he envied, for they at least enjoy more liberty, although they are nothing better than human ma- j chines. Chastity in Korea seems only to he required of wives, and with J them it must he absolute. Though the Korean women lay great ; stress, as to points of beauty, upon . a small foot or band, and regard them to an absurd extent as an index of good breeding, still they do not torture their feet into hideous deformities like their Chinese sisters, who , could not hope to obtain the position J of lirst or even second wife of a China- ! 'man of gentle birth unless they possessed those terrible terminations, more like sheep's trotters than human Jeet. Nor do the Korean mandarins.I encourage their nails to grow into birdlike talons to show their life-long immunity from work, though one can- i not but notice the exquisite care winch is bestowed on the bands of both sex- i es. The ordinary well-cared-for band of an English gentleman would look coarse and shapeless beside the pink i and almond-shaped nails and soft tapering white lingers of a Korean mandarin. When you live among the Ko- j reuns, and know the terrible boudage under which the women labor, one breathes a sigh on their wretched behalf. Itcside her household duties, and the i bearing of children, which is her raison j d'etre, the Korean wife combines the ) duties of gardener, stable boy and field laborer, and she must always be miudful that she has to wait personally upon | her husband. It is not to be wondered at, then, that her youthful ugliness soon becomes a hng-like hideousness. . The male laborer, on the contrary, has a very good time. If be is fortunate j enough to own a small patch of land, ; he need only help his beast of burden : (wife) during the harvest season, the land is so fertile, and his demands on the luxuries of life are so moderate J that the rest of the year he may spend in idleness and smoke. A Korean workman is seldom seen without his dearest comfort in life?a long, slimr?i?w> liofwr-Pll liiy lin<S TllPrP rmr~ i? is 110 grace or elegance in the female dross, which in some respects resctn- J hies that of the Chinese. It consists | of a loose pair of rough trousers reach- I ing to the ankles, tied round the waist > with a thick cord ; on the top of this ! is worn a short petticoat reaching to | the knees; and fitted to the shoulder j is a yoke or shoulder cape, to which j are attached long,-loose sleeves; thus j the whole of the body from the waist to the chest is exposed to view. This costume is the ordinary dress of the working women ; the coarse material is woven out of the fibre of the tall millit stem, which sometimes grows to be 8 or 10 feet high ; or more often the entire costume is composed of a strong shil ling "made in Manchster ?Pall Mall (iazctte. MATH DOES NOT END ALL It fell to a writer of the Chicago Herald very recently to sit between a doctor and a man who was an anomaly in this respect?that he had no country; professed none of the beliefs of Orlho- j doxy in the abstract, and yet in many ' respects he was far from heterodoxy. I The latter said some things which it occurred to me afterwards, ought to I he saved. I confess that much he said j is lost, for reasons that will be ap- ] parent. "How often," he said?and this is j not a literal quotation?"have I read and been told that death ends all. If , by that time is meant there is no daylight beyond?no sfate of happiness or i the contrary?I have nothing to say. ' I don't care to discuss that, except j with myself, for I am carrying a lantern ! on that subject. Hut if by it I am to understand that the death of a man or woman means that no lesson is to follow; that when the lamp is extinguished all is interred with the bones, I ob- j ject. Death makes thoughtful men look over the field. It puts up signboards j for the living. We may not say so? we inny nut iiiiiint it unt- iu unuu^ but we know it iu our hearts. I am ! not sure that we always take the path indicated by these signboards. I am frank to say that I do not. But I must j say that when I hear of the death of : one whom I knew, my first impulse is to listen to what is said after the oc- \ eurrenee, and compare it with my own knowledge of the man. By that I am enabled to render to the dead the things which are due to him, and to measure, to some extent, the sincerity of the tears that I see flowing from i others. ,lI am a respecter of the sentiment that of the dead nothing evil should be said. I am not talking about that. I am talking rather about the failure of the living to extend to the living fellowship which comes sorrow-laden later j on, after the final curtain. Death does not end all so far as all relates to the works which made a man's life. It \ does not end all for the good or evil j which made up his life. It does not end all in the homage which comes after the final call. It does not end all in stimulating the thoughtful to profit by the errors as well as the right which characterized the dead in a lifetime. Otherwise, how should we all continue to crumble and fall by the wayside." ? .NO ONE KNOWS. . Supposing the Western Hemisphere was populated before the Hood spoken of in the Bible, can you explain to us what races of people were supposed to inhabit the country at that time, and from j whom they were direct descendants? i And alter the Hood how did this country again become populated ? We believe it is the general supposition that nobody hud come to tins new continent from the ! old World with the exception of Columbus, and possibly the Norsemen, at which time the country was already inhabited by Indians and also the Mexican Aztec 1 nation, which had apparently been iu ( Mexico forages back. J. M.S. As to the inhabitants of this conn try lie fori1 the Hood no one knows any- ' Ihin^. Huge skeletons have been i found in tlie mounds of the Ohio vol- i ley, and footsteps of huge animals, ! as well as portions of huge skeletons of animals in various parts of the continent ; and those indicate that i the inhabitants of the country, both j man and beast were gigantic. But 1 what the names of the human races were no one can know. How the i country became populated immediate- j ly after the Hood no one knows. The j story of the Hood exists in the folk j lore of the American tribes, and it is j quite as probable that there were arks : and Noahs among the American Indians as that there was only one ark i and one Noah, hater on in the life of j the world the Chinese are supposed to : have had si part in the pcopleing of j this country, for it is known that 1 about- 1 ,-100 years ago Chinese monks j reached the western coasts of both North and South America, and that , I Chinese colonics were founded here, j This continent is the oldest land on i the earth and when you go to the St. Lawrence and look at the Laurentian I ranges of mountains and hills you see j the oldest part of the oldest land. One devout believer in the *>Mi testament t story lirmly believed that Adam and Kve, and Noali and his family and their intervening relatives lived in j this country, and that the ark was ! built in North Carolina, for that State, he said was the only place in the ! world where shitlim wood grows out of which the ark was built.?N. V. Sun. ? | STATU RANK AM) PRODUCT. Colorado is first in silver. Washington is eighth in gold. Alaska ranks first in sealskins. Utah is third in silver and tenth in gold. Montana is fourth in silver, fifth in j gold. Florida is third in sugar and sixth in rice. Idaho is sixth in gold and seventh in silver. Nevada is eighth in corn and ninth in rye. Minnesota is fourth iu copper and seventh in hops. Rhode Island is second in cotton and linen goods. Nevada is second in gold and fourth in silver. The two Pakotas lead all the States in wheat. South Carolina leads in rice, is fifth in cotton. Wyoming is twelfth in cattle and j fourteenth in gold. New Mexico is eighth in silver and seventh in gold. Oregon is seventh in fisheries and fifteenth in wheat. Delaware is the twenty-first, of the States in apples. Maine is fifth in buckwheat, eighth in hops, ninth in potatoes. Louisiana is first in sugar, third in rice and seventh in cotton. West Virginia is fifth in coal, eighth in buckwheat and iron. New Hampshire is third in cotton goods and fifteenth in potatoes. Kansas is fifth in cattle and corn, ninth in hogs, horses and coal. Georgia exports every year over $1,000,000 worth of watermelons. New Mexico annually sends out nearly $10,000,000 in bullion. Arkansas in cotton stands fourth, in , mules ninth, in lumber twelfth. Virginia is first in peanuts, second in tobacco and eighth in salt. Tennessee is second in peanuts, third in live stock, ninth in cotton. New Jersey is first in silk manufactures and zinc, fourth in iron, sixth in buckwheat and seventh in rye. Connecticut has 30,000 farms. The i tobacco product in 1880 was 14,000,000 . pounds. North Carolina is first in tar, second j in copper, third in peanuts, fourth in j rice. KNOWLEDGE MUST BE ACQUIRED. In one respect at least, preachers j are just like any other men ; they do not know anything except what they | have learned. The mere fact that J they occupy a sacred office does not add a particle to the stock of their information. Their utterances on any subject are worth only what they are ' worth. It is pitiful to see the occu- j pant of a pulpit making an exhibition of himself by venturing to express opinions ou subjects of which he is wholly ignorant. There is no excuse for anything of this kind. Any man | that is able to read the English langauge has at least one of the keys of i learning. There are many lields into j which he cannot enter without hindrance. If he is too lazy to use the opportunity, let him acknowledge the fact. But let him not also add the sin of hypocrisy by whining that, after all, the main thing is piety. So it is, unless it he that form of piety which j is content to remain in a condition of dense and unaspiring ignorance. Old men are not likely to change i their ways. The habits of a lifetime ! cannot be set aside at will. We feel no call to exhort those ministers who ; have gone on in a slipshod manner for 30 or 40 years. Let them alone. ; Their condition is too desperate to be ; remedied. Nothing but death can cure a case of chronic intellectual list- I lessness and unconcern?if even that can do it. But the young ministers have their lives yet before them. They do not even know of the possibilities that lie within their reach. If we could, we would blow a trumpet blast loud enough to stir them from their lethargy. They should lay out large ! plans and work for distant years. The results will not be at once manifest. But before long they will show themselves, and in the end will he of the most satisfying character.?Nashville Advocate. Tub Mystery of Thunder.? Thunder, as far as its consideration by i intelligent human beings is concerned, is among the oldest of the natural phe- I nomena, and yet it is the least understood. During the years in which this department has been a regular feature of The Itepublic, thunder, and the preceding phenomena of lightning j have been considered under many l 1. ennnH i IJfilUS, JCIi LUC jll-LUIIUi n.anmig nuuuu which is hoard the instant before the j detonation of the main report has never boon the subject of discussion. According to one authority on such subjects, M. Hirn, it is caused by the sepa- j rated columns of air rushing together after being separated by the electric Hash, the main report being the actual contact of such divided sections of atmosphere. An Ohio scientist has sug- j gested something entirely different. He says: "Is it not possible that the 'crackling' of thunder, one of the stock puzzlers for centuries, is really | caused by the conversion of gases into water by the action of the electric i flash or blaze? The fact that each sharp peal of thunder is followed by a suddenly increased downpour of rain, goes to prove that something has caused the rapid conversion of gases or vapor into water." Within the last year, "Notes for the curious" has contained an article which attempted to prove that lightning and j the attendant plunomenu of thunder ; is actually caused by these "sudden down-pours" of rain. Well might we continue to ask : "What is thunder ?"? St. Louis Republic. ? ? TlIK (.'UMAX OF <>NK OF VANCK'.S Lfctukks.?In 1S(>7 in a lecture to young men, (Jovernor Vance used the j following beautiful language: "Cicsarand Cicero are known to scholars ; Luther and Wesley are known to { and govern all classes and conditionsof men ; Shakespeare is read and admired by millions of men ; but John Bunyan j is loved and admired by hundreds of millions of human souls! Thcsubliiue i song of the 'l'aradise Lost' even may j perish and the 'Klegy in a Country Churchyard' be forgotton ; but, the i North star, ceasing to guide the pilots ; of the sea, shall, following in the track of the constellation of the cross, disap- i pear from the gaze of men beyond the j everlasting ices of the pole, and the Bedouin of the desert shall halt his f camels upon the disintegrated <1 list ot" the loftiest pyramid, ere the little children in every part of the whole earth j shall cease to repeat, before going to j rest, the simple prayer of some forgot- I ten Christian poet : Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep." ? Pakk Days oktiik Anviknts.? i Among the many dark days recorded . hy the ancients, and the causes of which we can only conjecture, are those of the year 44 li. C'., about the time of the death of Julius Ca'snr, when the sun was paler than usual lor ;i WllUlt? J fill". Ill uic ^rai uuu JX, 1). there was a day so dark that in all the eastern provinces of the Roman empire the stars could ho seen at midday. An effort has heen made to connect the latter record with an eclipse, hut neither the eclipse of March 4 nor that of August tIS, in the year .'WO, was visible in those countries. It is recorded that on the 2'Jth of September, 10!M, the sun turned black for three hours, and that for days afterwafd a peculiar greenish hue was * ? ? 15?1.a ?nhA <?t. ODSCI VaiHf 111 UK! Sllllllglll. A Il?.- ill! 5th and 12th of February, 110(5, were unusually dark, and on the 5th stars were seen at midday. Kepler mentions the 22nd, 23rd, 24th and 25th of April, 154S, as being dark days, with the so often necompauyitig circuinstance in these accounts of stars being visible at noon. It is almost useless to speculate as to the causes of the dark days last mentioned. The accounts are probably exaggerated, and in any case the records are too inaccurate and incomplete to render and explanation advisable. The terror which all such experiences produced was fatal to a scientific description. Who Knows that Nosk??One of the most amusing games for a large company is called by the punning title, "Who knows that nose?" Let a sheet, or a similar cloth, he hung in the doorway between two rooms. Let the company he divided into two groups, one for each room. In one room let a light he placed, and let. the members of the group in the other room take turns in sticking their noses, through a slit in the. sheet, into the lighted room. The group on that side is to guess the owner of each nose. After three trials, lights in the tirst room arc to be put out, and lights in the second room lighted, and the game is to be continued, the parts being reversed. If a nose is correctly guessed, the owner thereof must go on the other side; and so the game proceeds until one side or the other has lost all its members. This game may be varied by trying eyes, instead of noses, but is is not so funny in that way. It is astonishing how strange and unheard of is the nose of even the most familiar friend, when isolated from the other features of his countenance. Indeed, it is doubtful whether any one ot us, it confronted with an accurate picture of our own nasal appendage, would recognize it as an old friend. This game, and similar games, startle us with the disclosure of how little we have observed, even in matters that we think we know all about.?Golden Rule. At Lafayette's Tomh.?"While in Paris a short while ago," said Mr. W. B. Potts, of St. Louis at the Normandie, "it occured to me that it was a fitting act to muke a pilgrimage to the tomb of that illustrious Frenchman, dear to the heart, of all American patriots, the Marquis de Lafayette. I asked a number of people before I could find anyone to enlighten me as to the spot, but after repeated inquiry ascertained its locality. The grave is situated in old Paris, within the grounds of a convent that the ancestors of Lafayette founded, and where repose the remains of many of the French nobility. "The first thing that attracted my attention in connection with t he hero's tomb was that above it, floated a silken flag, bearing the stars and stripes. It seems that a good many years ago an American gentleman left in his will a sum of money to be used for (he special purpose of keeping an American flag forever flying above the grave of Lafayette. It has done so without intermission from the day the will went into effect, and whenever through the wear of the elements one flag becomes unserviceable a new one straightway takes its place. Through untold centnries the emblem of the country which in early struggles for liberty had his sufficient aid will wave above his ashes."?Washington Post. Don't Use Bus Words.?In promulgating your esoteric cogitations and in articulating your superficial sentimentalities and amicable philosophical or psychological observations beware of platitudinous ponderosity. Let your conversational communications possess a clarified con- . fineness, a compact comprehensihlcness, coalescent consistency and a concatenated cogency. Eschew all conglomerations of flatulent garrulity, jejune babblement and asinine affections. Let your extemporaneous decantings and unpremeditated expatiations have intelligibility and veracious vivacity without rhodomontade or thrasonical bombast. Sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, pompous prolixity, psittaceous vacuity, ventriloquial verbosity and vaniloquent vapidity. Shun double ententes, prurient jocosity and pestiferous profanity, obscurant or apparent. In other words, talk plainly, briefly, naturally, sensibly, purely and truthfully. Keep from slang; don't put on airs ; say what you mean ; mean what you say and don't use big words.?Philadelphia Press. The Mosquito's Suroical Instruments.?The mosquito's bill, minutely delicate as that instrument is, is simply a tool box in which are six separate surgical instruments?miniature bloodletting apparatus of the most perfect pattern. Two of these instruments are said to ?e exact counterparts 01 a surgeon's lance; one is a spear with a double-barbed head; the third a needle of exquisite fineness. A saw and pump go to uiuke up his wonderful complement of tools. The spear is the largest of the six, and is used in making the initial puncture; next the lances are brought into play, their work causing the blood to flow more freely. In case the last operation fails of having the desired effect, the saw and the needle are carefully inserted in a lateral direction in the victim's flesh. The pump, the most delicate instrument of the entire set is used in transferring the blood to the insect. Tjitmh Dktmtiox.?In course of transit between New York and New Orleans a packet of paper money had been opened and its contents considerably reduced. Two of the seals had broken and one had been reseated by thumb pressure. Mr.Carvalho, an expert in matters of identification, endeavored to find out the thief, and with this view obtained wax impressions of the thumb of all the officials of the American Kxpress company through whose hands the packet was known to have passed. The impressions were photographed and enlarged, and one of them clearly agreed with an enlarged photograph of the thumb impressed seal. The thief was thus detected.?Scientific American. Bw?" They say that pleasure's treadmill is a bicycle; that whistling for half an hour alter meals is the best aid to digestion ; that a man is very stingy when he will not enjoy a joke at his own expense; that if tact could be "sold, only such as are already possessed of it would want to buy it: that man always wants somebody to answer his question but nobody to question his answers; that the number of languages and dialects spoken in the world is 3,0114, exelusve of baby talk and the language of our railway porters: that people think it is tough when they have to pay 35 or 45 cents a pound for steak but it is tougher when they pay only 15.