University of South Carolina Libraries
ISSUED TWIOE-A-WEEK?WEDNESDAY AND SATURDAY. ?. m. grist 4 sons, Publishers, j % Ifamilg Hcinsgager: |[or the promotion of the political, Social, |?ricultui;al and (^ommepal Interests of the joouth. JTERhng?.kco^thbeecAf! NCE' VOLUME 42. YORKVILLE, S. C., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1896. NUMBER 94. BY CAPTAIN C Author of "From the Ranks," ' Secret," "The Deserter,' Copyright, 1896, by F. Tennyson Neely. SYNOPSIS. Chapter I?Royle Farrar disgraces himself at West Point, deserts the school and leads a wandering life, sinking lower and lower, marries his employer's daughter and then commits a forgery. Chapter II?Colonel Farrar, father of Royle, is killed in a battle with the Indians. Chapter III?Royle Farrar's younger brother Will graduates at West Point and falls in love with Kitty Ormsby, whose brother Jack is in loye with Will's sister Ellis. Chapter IV?Will is made lieutenant. They all return to Fort Frane, accompanied by a certain Mrs. Dauntou. Chapter V.?It has been reported that Royle Farrar is dead; but he turns up at the fort in the guise of a common soldier under the name of Graice. Ellis Farrar and Jack Ormsby quarrel over Helen Daunton. CHAPTER VI-Continued. "Thank yon so much," was Mrs. Farrar's hail from the landing above. "It is in my room and will be ready in one minnte if von will kindlv steD into the parlor." And then Mrs. Farrar passed on into her room, and with no audible word Mrs. Daunton and Jack passed into the parlor. Ellis stood a moment, confused, confounded, irresolute, turned back into her own room, and only by a miracle recovered herself in time to prevent the loud slam of the door. Then, with heavily beating heart, she stood there in the middle of the floor listening for yet not listening to the sound of voices from below, the oold night air blowing in from the open casement unnoticed, even the mysterious prowler at the back of the house for'the moment utterly forgotten. And meantime, turning quickly upon Ormsby, the moment she had led him within the parlor below, Helen Daun ton, in low, trembling, yet determined accents, spoke hurriedly: "I had not hoped for this. At best I thought to see you no sooner than tomorrow night You have read my note?" Ormsby bowed coldly. "Yes, but no ^ words can tell you my surprise at seeing you here in this household and as the trusted companion of whom I have heard so much. Do they know you are"? "They know nothing. They have made me welcome and made life sweet to me again after it was wrecked and ruined by their own flesh and blood. I meant?God forgive me?when first I came to chem, lonely, destitute, that some time they should know, but from the first I grew to love her; from the day of my reception under her roof my heart went out to her as it has done to no other woman since my own blessed mother died, long years ago, and then, then I learned of her precarious health and I temporized and now love her as I love no other being on earth, and, knowing that she never heard of her son's marriage?for she has talked of him occasionally to me?I determined ^ never to tell her of that or of the little one murdered by his brutality. I have Ormsby was just in time. hid it all?all. I hid from you, for you alone knew me under the uame 6ho bears and loves and honors. Oh, Mr. Orinsby, you were kindness, helpfulness itself to me in those bitter days. Can you not see how impossible it is for me to tell her now? Can you not help me to keep the hateful truth? See, she has been gaining here day after day. Don't let her know?don't make me tell her ?perhaps kill her with the telling? that I am Royle Farrar's wife." "Hush!" he whispered, for in her excitement her voice was rising, and he, listening nervously for a footfall that he knew and loved and thrilled at the sound of, heard Ellis pass rapidly along the narrow hall above, as though in answer to her mother's call. "HushI" he repeated. "I must think of tins. Tell me, has Miss Farrar at any time, in tUJJ YV UJ , LUt*b JUU liUVU hUU\>U mt before?" "She has, Mr. Ormsby, and I, with all the deep, deep gratitude I feel toward you, I have been unable to t< 11 her the truth and explain what I cannot but know has made her suspicious of me, has hurt you in her estimation. Oh, what 6hall I do, what shall I do?" she cried, wringing her white hands in grief unutterable. "Keep my secret, I im HARLES KING. 'Foes in Ambush," "A Soldier's ' "An Army Portia," Etc. plore yon, just 24 hours, until this sacred anniversary so fatal to, so dreaded by her, has passed away. Let no shock come to her at Christmaa Then, if need be"? "Hush I" he again warned, for Ellis was almost at the doorway. "I mu?t see you tomorrow. Until then"? And then, though the sweat was standing on his forehead, he turned, with 6uch composure as he could assume, with yearning and tenderness beaming in his frank, handsome face, to meet the proud girl whom he loved and in whose averted eyes he seemed to read his sentence. Never entering the room, but, halting short at the doorway, she gave one quick glance at the woman who, turning her back upon them, first seemingly busied herself at the curtains and then moved on into the dining room, which opened, army fashion, from the little parlor, and then was lost to sight. "Mother desired me to hand you this, Mr. Ormsby," was all that Ellis said, and then coldly turned away. "Ellis!" he cried in a low, eager, sorrowing tone, as he sprang after her "Ellis, Ellis!" But instantly, with uplifted hand, she turned, first as though to confront and wajm him back, theo as though commanding silence. "Hush, listenI" sue saio. " w nai is inatr Something like an inarticulate, stifled, moaning cry came from the direction of the dining room, and, rushing thither, swiftly, noiselessly as he could, Ormsby was just in time to see Helen Daunton reeling back from tho window and staggering toward the sofa. CHAPTER VIL 'Twas the day be fore Christmas, and Frayne was merry with the music of Christmas preparation. Ever since reveille the men had been busily at work, and while most of them were engaged in the decoration of their barracks, messrooms and the little chapel, Terry Rorke, with a good sized squad, was still putting the finishing touches on the assembly hall. An odd thing had happened that morning. No one had ever known that fellow Graice to offer to do a stroke of work of any kind, especially where Rorke had anything to do with the matter, yet here ho came, right after reveille, to tell that very man that if it was all the same to him he'd take the place of Higgius, who had been put on guard, and would help at the assemUU uiy num. ' 'There's no whisky to be had there, Graice, if that's what yon want, and ye look more'n like it. Answer me this, now. "Where'd ye been whin ye came runnin in at 1 o'clock this mornin?" "On a still hunt, corporal," answered Graice, with a leer. "It's to keep away from whisky this day I'm ready to work with you. I'm supernumerary of the guard." "You were driukin last night, and you've had yer eye opener and brain cloudier this mornin, !?"d 6cran to ye. There's an internal rev*. le tax on the breath of ye that would make an exciseman jealous. But, God be good to us, av it's to kape mischief away from the garrison this day I'll go ye. G'wan now, but whist, ye've no liquor about ye, Graice?" "Devil a drop outside of my skiu, corporal." "Then kape out of reach of it and out of the way of the ladies, lest the sight of yer ugly mug would throw them into fits. G'wau," and Graice went. "Was it ye, ye black throated devil, that gave that sweet lady her fright last night?" he continued reflectively. "There's no provin it beyond the boot tracks, and they'd fit worse lookin feet than yours. It'a the wan mark of the geutleman that's left to ye. Yes, sergeant, I'll kape me eje on him," he continued, in response to a suggestion from the senior noncommissioned officer of the troop, who came forth from the office at the moment. "The captain's hot about that business of last night, and like as not there's the blackguard. Now, what on earth does he want to be playin Peepin Tom about the officers' quarters?" "No good, of course, but we can prove nothing, as you say, except that he was out of quarters and wasn't at Bunko Jim's after 11 o'clock. He was here and in bed when I inspected." Very little was known about this episode. Mrs. Daunton had quickly revived under the ministration of Ellis and Mr. Ormsby, und, half laughing, half crying, had declared that just as she reached the window the blind swung slowly back and the moonlight fell full on the head and shoulders of a * _ ? L1-.1. 1 .1 J man Willi a lur cap, uiaeK uearu uuu soldier's overcoat She could describe no other features. He saw her at the game instant Each recoiled, but in her excited, nervous state it was too much of a shock. Ellis, who at first had been prone to attribute Helen's prostration to the interview with Ormsby, recalled the prowler she herself had seen and could not but corroborate Mrs. Duunton's 6tory. Jack had rushed put, only to find boot tracks in the snow and an unfastened blind, but no other sign of a man. Mrs. Farrar was kept in total ignorance of the affair, and only Leale and Will at first were taken into the se ciet, though the captain at once went to consult his trusty noncommissioned officers. All the same, though Helen laughed at her weakness when morning came, she and Ellis, parting for the night with but few words and each feeling conscious of the gull between them, passed a restless and disquieting nighrJust what mischief that fellow Graice was meditating puzzled uot a little the honest pate of Terry Rorke. For a time the man worked busily, silently, lugging bundles of greens into the hall and bare, stripped branches out Ouce or twice, in answer to chaffing remarks of the other men, he had retaliated. Once again, colliding with Crow Knife at the door, he had muttered an angry curse and bade the redskin keep out of his way unless he coveted trouble. The Indian's eyes flashed veugefully, but he Bpoke no word. It was just after guard mounting tnai Graice had offered his services, when, as supernumerary, he really did not have to work at all and was not properly detailable for any such fatigue duty By 10 o'clock, however, it was apparent to more than one present that he was drinking more liquor and had it concealed probably somewhere about the premises or in his overcoat. Rorke warned him and got a sullen reply. Not a minute after, although strict orders had been given against smoking, because of the flimsy nature of the structure and the large quantity of inflammable material scattered about, he precipitated an excitement Right in the entrance of the hall a big square box had just been placed by two of the men, and Crow Knife was carefully removing the lid, when Graice, lurching in from the dressing room with a bundle of greens, stumbled against the edge of the case, and, dropping his burden with a savage curse, he drew back his heavily booted foot as though to let drive a furious kick. Instantly the Indian interposed. "Don't kick!" he said. "Hold your hoof there!" shouted Rorke, and others of the men joined in their cry of warning. Wonderingly he looked about him on the quickly gathered group, swaying a l?it unsteadily even now. "Why not?" he scowlingly, sullenly, thickly asked. "What narms mere kicking a rattlehox that's almost broken my shin? What's the matter with you fellows, anyhow?" "It isn't the box, ye goneril, it's what's inside of it I That's Colonel Farrar's picture! God's praise to him for the finest soldier that iver rode at the head of the Twelfth." "That Colonel Farrar's picture?" muttered the man in a strange, half awed, half defiant manner. "Well, 1 swear, that's?that's queer." And then, in some odd, nervous abstraction, he whipped out a cigar, and the next thing they knew, had lighted it at the stove and tossed the flaming paper among the sweepings on the floor. Instantly there was a rush, a trampling of feet and just as Rorke wrathfully had collared the stupefied man Lieutenant Farrar burst in upon the scene, stamping out the few remaining sparks, aud then turning angrily upon the group. "Who dropped that fire? Who, I say?" he repeated, for, in soldier silence, the men had stood at attention, but, true to soldier ethics, would tell no tales. "Don't let that happen again, corporal," he went on sternly. "You know well enough what a fire would mean hereabouts, with the cannon powder stored in the tower yonder. Remember the orders?the guardhouse for the first man fooling with fire. Go on with your work." And then, as the men turned silently away uud Terry stood there, looking abashed auA troubled at the implied rebuke, Will sought to soften the etfect. "Why, you're doing great work here, corporal. The old place is wearing Christmas dress and no mistake. " "It is, Masther Will," said Rorke delightedly. "Masther Willi" repeated Farrar indignantly. "On my soul, Rorke, you"? "I beg the lieutenant's pardon,"said Terry, all contrition and soldierly respect. "But I've known him such a few weeks as lieutenant and so many and many a long year as Masther Will"? "That'll do, corporal. Have the picture in its place as soon as you can. Mother will be over here to look at it." "Yes, Mas?yes, sorr." And again, as Will turned angrily to rebuke the poor fellow, there was a gathering of tho men at the window looking out upon tho parade, and something was said about a lady slipping on the ice. which carried Will away like a shot. Two strides took him to the door, and one glance 6cnt him rushing to the rescue. It was Miss Ormsby. And then, while some of the men went on with their work, others seemed to hang about Graice, who was oddly fascinated by the box and cast furtive glances at it, while Crow Knife, under Rorke's direction, was quietly unpacking it. Again had Graice wandered uusteadly over by the stove and stood there, sullenlj kicking ut it until one of the men bade him quit or he'd start a fire in spite of them. "You'll have us all in blazes before our time, " were the soldier's words. "Not L Fire's my friend," answered Graice in a surly tone. "And likely to give yo a long and warm welcome if ye carry to purgatory the spirit ye so sweetly manifest here How yer friend?" retorted Rorke. "I mean it saved my life a year ago in Mexico. I saw a girl once too often for her lover's good?hot headed cur! He would have St and got it?in the heart? and I got in quod, and our consul, could not help me. I am not the kind of citizen the United States hinders a foreign government^ from sending to kingdom ~ t \ come, and I was mighty nigh getting 1 there." t "And ye didn't," said Terry, highly * interested. ' 'The dishpensations of hiv en are past findiu ont" ? "Fire's stood my friend, I say. I had my pipe?greasers ain't the d??-d mar- s tinets you have here?and a spark went i into the straw. It blazed in an instant r There was h?1 to pay, with the guard t and greasers and prisoners running c every which way. The prison had a lit- t tie tower, like that, yonder," said he, t pointing to the wooden structure above f the old guardhouse "I saw my chance * in the confusion and ran for it. It was ^ stone and never took fire, and I got safe- d lr axrrav? at nicrltf anH vamnnqpH thfl country and read afterward how the * flames had devoured the ruffianly murderer Roy"? and here he caught him- 0 Belf, with sudden gulp, seeing Rorke's F suspicions eyes on bim." E "Eh, Graice? Roy, ye were sayin. " 8 "Mcrderer, roisterer and rascal, Tom Graice," he went on. "So I've nothing f tb fear from fire." t Rorke eyed him long and distrustful-, g ly, gruuting audible comment on the C story, to which some of the men had lis- g tened in absorbed interest, while others g were busily removing the picture and a .setting it in place upon the wall. Then, e as it was fairly hung, Crow Knife step- g ped back across the room, his eyes rev- e erently fixed upon the fine, soldierly face. Graice, meantime, after a hurried ' glance about him, had drawn a flask e from his vest pocket and had lifted it to 1 his lips, when Rorke grabbed it t "I thought so, ye mad brained gab- g bier! Ye'll be drunk before the day's g half over. Get up and look at the pictnre, man. It's lookin at ye straight t and stern." ' \ "Who?who's looking at me? What g d d rot are you talking?" Bhuddered c Graice. c "The colonel is, and as if he didn't a relish the sight Small blame to him." v "It's a 6aying of my people, "said a Crow in his slow, solemn tone, "Whom I the eyes of the dead call must rise and t follow." t "You croaking"? hissed Graice, h leaping to his feet and rushing at the a Indian, but Rorke threw himself be- 1 tween them. t "Play wid fire when ye may, man, n but niver wid a tame tiger. Hush, now. o Gn nnt this dcnr and cool that crazv ^ head of yera. Here come the ladies." Instantly the excited group scattered, the men resuming their work as though at no time thought of crime or quarrel had entered there, but Rorke's heart was thumping hard as he went to his station. First to enter were Captain Leale and Mrs. . Daunton, though the blithe voices and cheery laughter of the others could be heard without. Evidently there was fun at Kitty's expense, and Leale had seized the opportunity to draw Helen to one side. They were talking earnestly as they entered. "It seems providential that Will's first station should bring his mother back to the old home. Here and now at least she should be safe from all shock, especially with your care to guard her, Mrs. Daunton. She said to me only yesterday: 'Helen came to me only a little over a year ago, but I think I have j needed her for years. She is dear to me, almost as my own daughter.' " v ' 'God bless her for those words," said ^ Helen, deeply moved. "I came to her 0 as a dependent, but she has taught me a a new definition of motherhood." p "Motherhood has its sorrowful mean- c ing for Mrs. Farrar," said Leale grave- n ly, his handsome dark eyes fixed upon her fnr>? "Hns she never snoken to vou 1, about Royle, her eldest son?" a "She has sometimes mentioned him," q said Helen, with great constraint. "But e she can hardly bear to speak of him, and I know the bitter sorrow he brought B to every one who loved him, but," she a added quickly, as though eager to g change the subject, "how cozy and s warm and Christmasy it looks and f, smells! I shall have another new definition?what Christmas means. We learn f, many definitions, do we not, as life goes on, and sometimes fate is good to us and lets us learn the happiest last." "And you have learned a sad one of y Christmas?" "Ir A very sad one. My own baby died in my arms on Christmas eve." Leale bent earnestly toward the sad, f: sweet face, a deep emotion in his own, 1: but at the moment Ellis entered, follow- e ed closely by Ormsby. She bowed in evident constraint at sight of the couple & already there and looked as though she would gladly have turned about again, d After her came Will and Kitty and t) other vounc tieonle of the D'ost. all eaeer t< j a?id intent on inspecting the prepara- v tions being made, all full of compli- s< ments to Rorke lor the success attending bi bis labors, all full of admiration of the b portrait, which they grouped about and h admired, while Ellis hung her father's b saber underneath. And then once again h the whole party, chatting merrily, went r drifting out into the crisp air and glo- v rious sunshine, leaving, glowering after b them from the doorway of the little room that opened off the main hall, the ri ill favored, ill liked soldier Graice. Two minutes later, and no one could E explain how it started or what was its ri exciting cause, with hardly a spoken fi word or premonitory symptom, two men tl were clinched in furious struggle?one, Viomrr hnrlir nnwprfnl nilfl Plftpd with F "V"V, ""'VI l'~ o ? almost demoniac strength, had hnrled ri the other down. That other, lithe, G sinewy, pantherlike in every motion, writhed from underneath his huge an- a tagonist and had sprung to his feet, E while the first, moro slowly, heaved si himself upward, and then, like a mad- y deued bull, dashed at his foe. p Springing lightly to one side, Crow h Knife, for it was he, whipped from its " sheath a glittering blado and poised it y ligh jn air, and Graice, even in his jlind fury, saw and hesitated. There vas a ru3h of the workmen to the spot, nit Captain Leale was first of all. Clear ind cold and stern his voice was heard. 'Drop thai knifel Drop that knife, I ay!" and slowly, reluctantly, though lis eyes were blazing with hate and age, the Indian turned toward the man le had learned to trust, to honor and to ibey, and the knife fell clattering to he floor. Graice made a lunge as hough to grab it, and Rorke's ready oot tripped and felled him. Then, rith both hands, the Irishman grabbed lim by the collar and dragged him, azed and scowling, to his feet "There are ladies coming, sir," was he warning of one of the men. "Take that man out and cool him ff," said Leale, still calmly, to the cororal. 'Til hear the story later. Quiet iow, one and all," he added, as the "Tt in Mrs 'Farm.r. " They met et the very doorway, the air, radiant woman, closely followed iy her daughter, the dazed, hulking oldier, led or rather driven forth by lorporal Rorke, and instantly a change, wift and fearsome, shot across the weet, pathetic face. One glance was 11, and then, pale as death, she totterd feebly forward. Ellis sprang to her ide in sudden alarm. "Mother, dearat, what is wrong? How you tremble!" For a moment she could?ot speak. 'It is folly; it is weakness!" she falterd. "But that face?that dreadful face I ?he look in those eyes?the awful gliter that only liquor kindles. I have not een that look since?oh, whenever I ee it I say, God pity, pity his mother." And then Helen Daunton came hasily in and helped to lead the agitated roman to a seat, and there she knelt beide her and soothed and comforted and ry-xwt tn hor no wnmpn crnon over a tired hi Id, and Leale hovered helpfully bout, grave, strong and gentle, and it vas on his arm she leaned, with Helen ,t her side, when finally she stood to ook at her husband's portrait. And litle by little she grew calm and the flutering at her heart oeased to distress ler, and Ellis, turning reluctantly away ,t the bidding of her garrison friends, eft her mother to the ministrations of he woman whom with every hour, Qore and more, she -learned to look upn as a rival, and then, saying that he could call for them in a few minutes Vhlppcd from its sheath a glittering blade. rith his sleigh, believing that a short rive in the exhilarating air would be f benefit, Leale, too, left them, and Irs. Farrar and Helen Daunton were radically alone. Mess call sounding heerily ,had called the men to their oonday meal. The eyes of the elder woman had folTwed the tall, soldierly form of Leale s he left the room, "and then, tenderly, uestioningly, almost entreatingly turnd upon Helen. "I love him almost as I do my own on, Helen. My husband died in his rms. Surely you must realize that his reat heart has belonged to yon ever iuce he first set eyes on your bonny ace." Mrs. Daunton almost started to her pet. "Oh, not that I Surely not that 1 He 3 my good, true friend," she cried. "Not the less your friend because all our lover, Helen." "Oh. never my loverl Ihavenoright -I nm nnt free!" "Listen to me, Helen," pleaded her riend. "Shall one mistake blight a ifetime? I know your short marriage xperieuce was a cruel one." "It was?heaven knows it was," asented Helen, shuddering. "Then do not make youth's mistake, ear," continued Mrs. Farrar, "and biuk the story ended because one chap?r is closed. I thought my story ended rhen they brought me home my dead aldier. I've prayed many a time my tory might end in the years my firstorn was an outcast. Helen, I have ardly spoken to you of my eldest boy, ut I can tell you now that, standing ere tonight, I realize how out of sorow peace has come to me. Death, rhich took away my husband, gave me ack my sou." "Death!" cried Helen. "Royle Farar is not?dead?" "Helen, how strangely you speak, [e has been dead a year, though only jcently did they "give me all the cruel acts. Major Wayne learned them from ae consul in Mexico." T__ l.? Ll? Unlnn Ill UUUUUlruuauiO u^uunuu aunton had turned away. "RoyleFarar dead I" she gasped. "Then I?oh, rod be thanked!" The tears were blinding Mrs. Farrai, nd for a moment she saw nothing of [den's agitatioD. The bells of Leale's ieigh came trilling merrily up the road ithout Hastily she dashed away the early drops and, smiling fondly, drew fcr shrinking friend to her embrace. Helen, dear, there is a new look in ' our face, sne waisperea. I ' 'It is because' I rejoice in my soul that your heart is at rest It is because it is Christmas?Christmas, the time of burdens dropped, of old sorrows healed, of new births and sweet beginnings. Dear, the Christmas chimes are pealing in my heart. It is the lirst real Christmas I have known in years." And so, her arms twining about her friend, she led her forth into thft radiant day, njith nil ita snnnhinn hpftminir in her (ace. One minute only bad they gone when, crouching from the dressing room at one side, his face bloated and distorted, the soldier&raice sped swiftly across the floor ana stopped to peek through the eastern window. Suddenly back he sprung and stood swaying at the door of the anteroom as Helen Daunton hurriedly returned, doming from the dazzling glare of the sun without into the dimly lighted room, she almost oollided with the hulking figure before seeing it at all. "Mrs. Farrar has left her cloak," she faltered. "Will you kindly move from the way?" "You thought I had moved from your way," was the thick, husky answer, "but you're mistaken, my dear." Back she started as though stung, an awful terror in her staring eyes, her blanching face. "You?Royle Farrar?and here!" she gasped. "You?Royle Farrar 1 Oh, my eracious *toqi TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEDNESDAY. PfowlIanMUis Reading. THE GREEDY BOTTLE. A poor, undersized boy, named Tim, sitting by a bottle and looking in said: "I wonder if there can be a pair of shoes in it?" fais mother bad mended his clothes, but said bis shoes were so bad that he must go barefoot. Then he took a brick and broke the bottle, but there were no shoes in it, and he was frightened for it was his father's bottle. Tim sat down again and sobbed so loud that he did not bear a step behind bim until a-voice said : "Well! what's all this?" He sprang up in great alarm ; it was his father. "Who broke my bottle?" he said. "I did," said Tim, catching his breath, half in terror and half between bis sobs. "Why did you?" The voice did not sound as he had expected. The trutb was his father bad been touched at the sight of the forlorn figure, so very small aod so sorrowful, which had bent over the I t oroaen uuiue. "Why," he said, "I was lookiDg for a pair of new shoes ; I want a pair of new shoes awful bad?all the other chaps wear shoes." "How came you to think you'd find shoes in the bottle?" the father asked. "Why, mother said so; I asked her for some new shoes, and she said they bad gone in the black bottle, and that, lots of other things bad gone into it too?coats and hats, and bread and meat and things ; and I thought that if I broke it, I'd find 'em 'all, and there ain't a thing in it! I'm real sorry I broke your bottle, father. I'll never do it again." "No, I guess you won't," he said, laying a hand on the rough little head, as he went away, leaving Tim overcome with astonishment that his father had not been angry with him. Two days after he handed Tim a parcel, telling him to open it. "New shoes 1 New shoes 1" he shouted. "Oh, father, did you get a new bottle and were they in it?" "No, my boy, there ain't going to be a new bottle. Your mother was right. The things all went into the bottle, but you see getting them out is no easy matter; so, God helping rae, I am going to keep them out after this."?Arkansas Methodist. WHERE NOAH GOT HIS PITCH. An English explorer has recently reached Hit, in Syria, the locality in which Noah dwelt. Here he found a remarkable group of bitumen springs. From these springs, he says, it is probable that Noah obtained his supply of material to "pitch it within and without." In a basin, undoubtedly of volcanic origin, a spring of warm water bubbles up, and with the water comes the bitumen or pitch in a plastic form, of the consistency of rather moist putty ; and the Arabs gather it by simply scraping it off the surface of the water with their bare hands, and pressing it into panniers carried by patient little donkeys, who then struggle up the rocky sides of the basin and take the material off to the boat building yards, where it is used for covering the boats and gouphas, after ' ? C ?>!?/? nfAnaoo undergoing & ucnmu icuuiu^ vtv.oo. The bitumen is continually rising, buffowing to the formation of the basin into which it rises with the stream, very little of it can escape, and it remains floating on the surface of the water till taken off by the Arabs. The water itself tastes slightly of sulphur, is quite warm, and apparently charged with some mineral which it deposits in its rocky bed as it flows away (through channels and crevices which the bitumen cannot pass) from the basin, coating it with a lovely lilac color, which further down the stream becomes a peacock blue. fl?"" Secretary Lainont estimates that for the next year it will require $52,? ^ ? ^OO ?? % *V?a nmn ^nr\o r t m onf r% f 0 / OjUOO LU I UU luc rr c** vujwuv v. the government. The pay of the soldiers as fixed by law amounts to more than $13,500,000