Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 14, 1898, Image 1

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l.m. grist & sons, Publishers. 1 % .Jfiimilg gteirspaper: <dfor the promotion of the political, Social, Jtgrirulturat, and Commercial Interests of the Joouth. j tekms^^oo^ ye^rjn a^msce. established 1855. YORKVILLB, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1898. NO. 74. A MARRIAGE IVY ROBERT Author of "The Shadow of Mail," Copyright, 1897, by Robert Buchanan. CHAPTER VHL The house is quite still, every one has retired to rest, and 1 am sitting alone in my boudoir, trying to piece together the terrible experiences of the last few days and to write them down Even now they scarcely seem real. They rather seem like those flashes which haunt us when we are suddenly awakened from strange dreams. Lest I they should fade altogether, as dream memories do, I am going to recall them as vividly as I can; then, when 1 have committed them to paper, 1 shall give the writing to the only friend 1 have left, my good priest, who loves me like a father In his care 1 know it will be sacred, bnt if ever occasion should (which God forbid) it may be my justification. Before 1 proceed to my narrative, however, let me frankly own to myself and to any one who may hereafter read these words that 1 have been justly punished for my own frivolousness and folly Like many another thoughtless woman, 1 played with tire, little thinking that it might some day imperil my life and honor. A young girl, alone in the world, and with no guide but her own caprice, cannot be too circumspect in her relations with the opposite sex. L so far from being circumspect, was foolhardy Treated like a spoiled child, idolized and flattered on every hand, 1 craved only for sympathy and adoration, and 1 was careless in awakening feelings to which 1 never intended seriously to respond. Although not at heart a coquette, I cehainly behaved like one, and I have paid the penalty. All that 1 can urge in my own defense is that my position was a peculiar one, and that I had little or no experience Brought up in England, where people were so much more sophisticated and commonplace, I was placed under extraordinary circumstances in the miast 01 a sociery wmcn was 10 a j^reau extent unconventional. My suitors, gen- : tlemen in external appearance, had all < the strong passions and prejudices of ] the half civilized. They could not understand mere friendship. They mistook 1 frankness for cordiality and camara- ' derie for love. A kind word, a gentle i look, a pressure of the hand, was interpreted instantly into the warmest of ' sentiments. I Thus it was that I began so unfortunately with my cousin, Patrick Blake. : I was really sorry for him, I wanted to I show him that I was truly his kinswo- : man, and before I knew what 1 was doing 1 had made him think that I was in ! love with him, and that he had only to ask and to have. He did ask, and 1 had : to be cruel. As the issue showed, I was ; not cruel enongh. Then, again, another consideration | weighed with me. 1 felt, rightly or wrongly, that most of those who pursued me, including my savage cousin, "TThy do you tstill refuse to worry met" i did so because I was a wealthv woman, and I felt a malicious pleasure in dan- : gling my fortune before them and making them believe that it was attainable. All the time I was saying in my own mind, "I mean to amuse myself with the foolish creatures as much as 1 please, but until 1 find a man who loves me for myself alone 1 will never marry." This might have been all very well ; in civilized England Among the wild mountains of western Ireland it was playing a desperate game When Patrick Blake first offered to marry me, I was amused. He seemed to think the assault so easy Even when all his pent up passion broke stormily upon me, I was still amused and even flattered. His threats seemed those of an ill conditioned schoolboy 1 could not realize that they had any serious meaning I discovered very quickly that I was wrong and tried in vain by gentle measures to repair the mischief 1 bad done. I still felt sorry for him, knowing that I had inherited what he might otherwise have possessed, and 1 wished to RDOW llllll an wio &uiuucs? in uij This amiability, 1 think now, was a mistake. I realized my position for tho first time after that first attack in the woods. I knew by instinct that my assailant was no vulgar robber, and 1 identified him almost immediately as my Consin Patrick. What his reasou was for so apparently aimless an assault 1 could not understand, but I had heard that he was in league with desperate men, and I called in the protection of the police. It was at this juncture that another suitor for my band, Mr. Philip Langford, interposed as a possible protector. He bad already proposed to r\\e, and I had declined his offer He now renewed his suit with tenfold fervor. I Jmd to answer him as before. But with u woman's perversity I answered him .so tenderly as to retain him as a sort of unac BY CAPTURE. BUCHANAN, the Sword," "God and the ' Etc. credited cavalier Instead of dismissing him at once and forever 1 deceived myself and him with the will-o'-the-wisp of friendshin. Then camo the second attack on my person, from which, as I believed, I waa saved by the man whose offer of marriage I had more than once rejected. Again 1 seemed to recognize the work of my cousin, and 1 remembered his words ?"If yon refuse to have me, yon shall have no other man!" Terrified beyond measure, 1 was almost tempted to take Mr Laugford at his word and constitute him my legal protector From this step I was deterred by two considerations? my own wish to retaiu my freedom and Mr. Langford's irritating pertinacity Let me be quite frank. My feelings toward Mr Laugford were very different from those which 1 entertained for Mr. Blake. In every possible respect the two men were a contrast to each other My cousin, despite his good looks, was what I have described him to be, an untutored boy. the slave of low passions and coarse vices. Mr. Langford, on the contrary, was a perfect gentleman, handsome, fascinating even, and without a stain upon his character. Never, under any circumstances, could I have hesitated between these two suitors. One of them repelled me in every way, while the other attracted me continually. I will now, without further preamble, come to the occurrences of the last fortnight and to that extraordinary adventure with which they culminated. My persecutions had ceased, my days wwfl elidinc uneventfullv alone, and I had almost forgotten my cousin's existence, when news was brought to me that he had returned from a long visit to Dublin. A little nervous and anxious to ascertain if 1 was forgiven, 1 contrived to drive past the inn where he resided and to catch a glimpse of him face to face. H*s manner relieved all my fears. He seemed light hearted and merry, and I thought to myself, "He is oured, and 1 shan't be troubled any more." That evening Mr. Langford called upon me, and referring incidentally to the fact of my cousin's return again asked me to become his wife. "You know my decision," I replied, "and really your renewal of the subject Is a little monotonous." "Why do you still refuse to marry me?" he asked, fixing those sad eyes of his upon me. "Do you hate me so much?" "If I hated you," I replied. "I wonld not receive you here;" then laughingly I added, "I really believe that my cousin, savage as he is, loves me better than you do." "Why do you Bay that?" he asked gently. "Well, he is thorough at any rate. He does not hang after my heels and fetch and carry. He is like one of the old knights, who loved desperately and tried to seize by force what he could not win by favor. At any rate, he is romantic. " It was a foolish speech, as the issue proved. Two days afterward I drove into Westport and cashed a check at the bank. Then, as the afternoon was fine, I determined to drive over to Ballycroy, flinft with an old friend of mine. Airs. Bourne, and return home next morning. I apprehended no danger and had almost forgot that I had an enemy in the world. The sun was low down in the western sky when, leaving behind us tho village of Mulrany, we drove along the desolate road which winds through the mountains of Mayo following the long arm er estuary of the sea. beyond which rise other mountains culminating in the highest peak of the island of AchilL To our right the mountains rose precipitously into granite peaks, which shone clear and distinct in the rosy light. Not a sound disturbed the solitude save now and again the cry of a sea gull or the faint "honk honk" of the wild goose winging high up in the air. Never bud my heart felt lighter and more full of peace. Mile after mile we drove through the solitude, and not one human being passed us on the road. At last we came in sight of the old bridge near Ballyveeuy, through which tho river flows, emptying itself into the salt estuary. "It's a louesjme spot, your ladyship, " said the driver, turning to me and touching his hat. "It was here that the boys laid in wait for Lord Sligo's agent." "What happened?" 1 asked, smiling. "Well, sure they waited under the bridge two nights and days, and Mr. Smith, the agent, didn't come, and on the third night, when ho did come, they were drunk as lords, and. though they fired at the car, devil a ha'porth of harrum came of it. But the horse galloped off wid Mr. Smith and the driver, and young Mr. Smith, a boy of 17, jumped off wid his littlo, small pea rifle and shot one of the men in the hacK just as he was running over the brow of the hill. M "Was he killed?" "Claue, and there he lay on his face gripping his gun till Dr (Jorlcy came and found him, and afterward young Mr. Smith had to lave the country for fear of his own life. " So saying, he whipped up the horse9 and approached the bridge at a rapid trot. By this time it was almost dark, the sun had gone down behind the mountains of Aehill, and the shadows of night were closing in on every side. Suddenly, without tho slightest warning, just as we were about to cross the bridge, the figure of a man dashed from the roadside and seized the horses, which reeled back, almost overthrowing the car. At the same moment three other men, with blackened faces, appeared at my side, and before I could ntter a cry for help I saw the driver fall from his feat to the gronnd and felt myself seized and lifted from the car. J. strnggled and screamed, bnt a hand was placed over my month and a rough voice cried, "Hould your pace." Then. I suppose, I must have fainted away. When I recovered my senses, I conld see nothing. Some dark substance was flung around my head and face, almost suffocating me, and 1 was being borne along, 1 knew not whither, in a man's arms. I strnggled wildly, tore the wrappings away and shrieked aloud. As 1 did so I saw the blackened faces of several men. The next moment my head and face were again covered and my voice was smothered in thick folds. "Kpon cilpttpp mv ladv." Raid a voice. "We don't want to harm you, but we'll have to do it if you're not aisy " In spite of this warning I tried again to call for help, but it was in vaia Terrified and horrified beyond measure, 1 again swooned away On recovering a second time I found myself still blindfolded, with mv hands tightly bound. Then, listening intently, 1 heard a sound like the splashing of oars, and I realized in a moment that 1 was lying in a boat of some sort and rocking upon tho water Suddenly the sound ceased and a voice said: " Wheest! I see a light yonder on the laud!" "Kape in the shadow," said smother voice "It's the peelers drivin down from Mulrauy " The sound of oars was resumed and I felt tho boat gliding rapidly on Sick with fear, 1 struggled to release myself, but a hand wus placed upon me. gently enough, and 1 could not stir "Lie still, honey," said the voice I had first heard. "No harm will come to you, and you may close your eyes and sleep as safely as if you were in your own room at home. " "Who are you?" I murmured. "Where are you taking me to? For God's sake"? Another voice, stronger and deeper, evidently that of a young man, now broke in: "We're friends, your ladyship ? friends entirely. We wouldn't hurt a hair of your ladyship's head, and we're takin you to a place where you'll be safe and welL " "Yen cowards, why don't you kill me? It would be better for me to be dead than lying here." nr?L-_ T J-Dia 11 taw luwiw >vao uu t uuv ?. heard the men whispering together in the Irish tongne. The oars went faster and faster and the boat glided on. Why linger over tho hours of that night? All my appeals were in vain, and I remained utterly helplesa Presently the boat began to toss heavily, and I could hear the waves dashing violently against its sides, while from time to time a dash of sea spray soaked the veil which covered my face The sound of oars ceased and directly tho boat heeled over under sail. It was now bitterly cold, and I could feel that a strong wind was blowing and that the boat was rushing swiftly through the water. The waves splashed, the wind whistled and the light craft seemed plunging up and down in the trough of a stoirmy sea. Terrified as I was I think I must have fallen to sleep. Opening my eyes, still in complete darkness, I heard one of the men saying: "Poor lady I She's worn out entirelyl May the Lord help her! Musha, this is a bad night's work. " I was still lying where they had placed me, and I was quite warm. A bundle of sonn soft material formed a pillow for my head. The heavy veil had been partially withdrawn from my head, but I was Btill blindfolded and my hands were bound. I lay still, thinking. It was clear enough to mo now that my captors, whoever they might be, meant me no immediate bodily harm Still my position was a horrible one, and realizing it to the full I felt sick with suspense and terror. At last 1 summoned strength to speak again. "If my cousin, Patrick Blake, is here, will he speak to me?" I cried. There was no answer. "1 ask you, is my cousin here?" "Ax no questions, my lady," said a voice, "and we'll tell you no lies." "Where are you taking me?" "You'll soon know, my lady, if you'll keep aisy. Lie quiet and bould your tongue, like a swate lady as you are." It was useless to plead or question. I was in their power and utterly helpless. I still heard the plashing of the water and the whistling of the wind, while tho boat swept swiftly from wave to wave. Hours must have passed thus, while again and again, exhausted and wearied out, I fell into fitful slumber. Suddenly the noise of wind and storm subsided, and we seemed to have slipped into smooth water. A few minutes later there was a slight shock, as if tho boat was rushing In on shingle or sand, and 1 heard the men crying to each other: "Lower tho sail! Run hor up, boys." "Another pull." "Aisy now; that'll do." "Hould the light there. " "Saints be praised! We're out of that." "Hurry, now, hurry?here wid the light!" Some one bent over me and drew off the rugs which covered me, saying: "VnnVo cnfo now m v 1 n rl v find you'll soon bo snug by a warm fire." And 1 was raised in two strong arms. "Let mo go 1" I cried. "Where are you taking me?" I screamed aloud, but my voico was quickly drowned, and I was myself being carried rapidly away. Whoever my captor was, his strength must have been great, for he ran with me as if I were no weight at all, and 1 heard his companion following. My next impression was of being carried up steps into a house of some sort, and then up a steep flight of stairs. At this my terror deej ened, as was natural, and I shrieke again. "Wheest, wheest, my lady!" cried woman's voica "You're safe no^ saints be praised, wid your frienda " Nevertheless I continued to cry an struggle, while the man who held m in his arms continued to ascend. A length we paused, and I was set dowi but still held in a powerful grip. "Open the door!" cried a voicewhic I seemed to know. There was the sound like the drawin of a bolt and the turning of a lock, an I was drawn forward. I heard the mov( ment of several persons around me; the I was placed gently on a seat, and m hands were unbound. While I raised m hands to tear off the covering from m; * t- -J *Ua on/1 o Inn 6J6U JL IlCillU bUO UVA/i VlVOO UUU u *Wi turn. With a cry I drew away the covei Ing?it was a large handkerchief c white silk?and looked around ma It was a large, old fashioned chambe furnished as a bedroom. Round th walls ran a wainscot of polished oak very old and worn, and the floor was c he same material. There was an ope: fireplace and a bright turf fire was burn ing on the hearth and casting ghostl] lights upon the walls. In one corner of the room was a smal modern bedstead of brass, with cleai white hangings and bedding, and clos* to it a large armchair, in which I wa: seated. There was one small window t< the room, hung with snow white cur tains, and near it a dressing table ant looking glass, with hairbrushes, seen bottles and pincushion. It was clea that an attempt had been made to maki the room comfortable and pretty, possi bly for my reception. But my spirit was now up in arm against the outrage and indignity whicl I had suffered. Rushing to the door, . tried to open it. It was locked from th( outside. I ran to the window and threv it open, but it was black night al around, and 1 could see nothing. In nr desperation 1 think I should have leap ed out, but the window was protecte< by close iron bars. Returning to the door, I struck at i again and again with my clinche< hands. "Open, open!" I cried. There was a shuffling step on thi landing, and the samo woman's voio which I had heard before said: "What is it, my lady?" "Open the door, I command you. wish to leave this place. Open! Open!' And 1 struck at the panels with al my strength. "Sure, you can't lave tonight, nr ladyu" said the voice. "Bide in peac< I I tf-r!) A. ft What was my amazement to recognize no the man whom I had susvccted. till the morning, and ye shall do as y< plase." "I will go at once. I forbid you t< detain me. Open, 1 say. " There was no answer, though I con tinued to beat upon the door and to crj for help. At last, worn out and despair ing, I crossed the room and threw my self into the armchair. What could it mean? What housi was it? And why had I been brough here? I could thiuk of only one cxplaua tion?that my cousin, Patrick Blake had fulfilled his threats and had carriet me off by force, with tho aid of his des perate compauious. If so. what was t< become of mo? To what further degrada tion and humiliation was 1 to be sub jected? As I sat thus, trembling aud think ing, the door opened suddenly and ax old woman entered the room. I sprang up, aud as I did so the door was closet and locked behind her She stood looking at me sadly, rock ing her head from side to side. Hei hair was white as snow, her face no unkindly, and though her form wai bent with years she still seemed hah and strong. "Who are you?" I cried, facing her "What place is this, and why have ! been brought here?" "Bide a bit. my swate lady," she re plied. "Tho masther himself will comi to ye." "Tho master? Whom do you mean?' "1 mauo ono who loves ye as tin light and sunshine of his life, acushli ?one who would die for ye if need bi ?one who is waiting and praying fo: your forgiveness." "Do you meun my cousin, Patricl Blake?" I asked wildly. "Bide a bit, bide a bit,"shesai( gently. "Sit ye down and let old Nan nie bring ye bite and sup, before ye li< down and sleep. Ye may do that saim in nace. mv ladv. for him that adore ye is watching over yo. " Trembling between anger and amaze I pushed past her, and again rnshed t< the door. At that moment, it opened am a man appeared on the threshold. 1 knew him in a moment. What was my amazement to recog nizo not the man whom I had suspect ed, but Air. Philip LangforcL TO BK CONTINUED. San Franeiseo is the banner por of this country for the importation o opium for smoking purposes. Th< importations last, year aggregated 121, 401 pounds, and the duty amountet to $728,506. d ittisccttaucous ^trailing. 8 A CAVALRY STAMPEDE. "? An Exciting and Itemarkable Scene at d San Antonio. 10 A correspondent of The Globe-DemA ocrat, writing from San Antonio, Tex., l> under recent date, says: The blasts from one lone bugle momentarily h checked the stampede of 800 loose cavalry horses of the First Texas 8 cavalry at the entrance to Fort Sam d Houston this morning. Five hundred obedient animals implicitly obeyed the a bugle commands of "Column left," XJ y ? , ,,. M,? 0 '^flggv ' % ' ' 1 ""* ' | ';'v-^A'^.-,'r, ? aSk-' ' "~p:^f?i 3 Ke^' v 5 ffittfr-''- !^CTgiSiSB?| py tjjffff-j 1 INTERIOR VIEW OF H. C. HTR i ''Halt" and "Attention." The remaining 300, however, dashed off toward the city, overrunning the streets j and colliding with vehicles and pedes, trians. j The animals were to have been taken to the cavalry target range for a day's grazing. Thev were loose in the J " V rj ?' ? corral, awaiting the arrival of the officers in charge, when a cavalryman entered the inclosure, carelessly leav- i ing the gate ajar. The animals almost immediately began to file out of the corral three and four abreast. In the commotion and excitement that fol- i lowed the animals broke down a portion of the corral fence, and through ' this they charged, until in a few min- < utes tne wide street was tilled with a mass of confused, loose cavalry horses. It is a distance of three blocks from < the corral to the adjutant's head- I quarters, and in this direction the ! stampeded cavalcade surged. At the . i first alarm Capt. John Green, of Troop I, and two men mounted their horses, and at one bound, cleared the iron i fence around the headquarters for a short cut to the corral. Riding before i the stampede, the three men wildly shook their hats in the faces of the ' leaders of the heard, and sought after i the leading cowboy mode to yell and whoop the wild cavalcade into con- i t trol. But their mounts were borne i and driven forward by the irrisistible i 3 surge of the 800 stampeding horses. At this juncture Bugler Mcllhenny, of K Troop, with splendid presence of mind, rushed to the gate and sounded * the command, "Column left." The i 1 3 UKSIDKXCE OF J. K. HO I effect was magical. "Column left" < had beeu trumpeted at that particular 1 3 spot every day for nearly two months. ! It was the command that brought the i ' regiment in column formation through < a the wide gateway into the upper drill i grounds. The effect of this familiar I 3 bugle cull wus instantly discernible, r There was a sudden cheeking up, a shifting, rearing and plunging into i one another among the horses. Many I of the animals were too wildly excited I 1 either to hear or obey the bugle call, - but 500 free, riderless, stampeding a horses checked up and fought their a ....... ..Mi ,,r dip rifmomlized eavalcude I " ? 11J UUK V. ?..v s and as implicitly obeyed the command i as if saddled and mounted. i First there came a dozen or so shy ] 3 leuders, trotting through the gateway, i 1 followed by frequent bunches of from I 40 to 50 each, until 500 cavalry horses i were running at large over the parade " ground. Three hundred of the animals, however, madly rushed past the gate aud 1 the bugler. A cloud of dust which i hung long in their wake marked the i t route that the auimals took. As the i f stamped reached the more densely ? populated section of the city, it divid- i . ed into bunches, running into vehicles, ] damaging fences and setting the in- I habitants momentarily wild with I fright. One bunch was run iuto by a a passenger train, and three horses were killed. One horse dashed out its brains against a telephone pole, and another in colliding with a carriage became impaled ou the shafts. Several pedestrians were run down and more or less injured. A detail of 50 men was at once sent out, and in the course of the day they rounded up all save 35 of the runaways. While the uncontrollable horses were dashing toward the city Bugler Mellhenny turned to the 500 obedient animals on the parade ground. "Halt!" and "Attention !" were bugled over the parade field, with wonderfully success VUSH'S STORE-Yorkville, S. C. Ail results, and in a few minutes a small detail of men rode up aud easily drove the disciplined steeds back to the corral. PEAVINE HAY. How Capt. Self Cure*) It, Sound and Bright Without Losing Leaves. The value of peavine hay is recognized everywhere, but the difficulty heretofore encountered in curing it has somewhat limited the production. One of the finest farmers in the state is Captain I. R. Self, of this county, who has demonstrated the fact that peavine hay can be harvested and cured with less trouble than any other. His success in curing it has become known and he is constantly in receipt of inquiries as to his method. For the benefit of his brother farmers, Captain Self, on Monday, kindly gave The Journal his experiences in curing peavine hay. Two years ago he tried the method as an experiment. He mowed the vines in the morning and let them lie until the afternoon of the next day, when, if no rain had fallen, he raked the hay into cocks. The next morning, as soon as the dew had dried off, he hauled the cocks to his barn lot and packed the vines into rail pens ten feet square, having a heavy man to tramp them in, putting seven twohorse loads to a pen. On the third morning after the vines had been packed into the pens, smoke was seen issuing from every crevice and the vines were found so hot one ??, -?p. DDKY-Koek Hill, S. C. could scarely bear his hand on them. The smoke or steam, continued to is sue from the pens until the fifth morning after they were packed, then it ceased altogether. Captain Self naturally concluded that his experiment was a failure, but when he opened the pens in the winter he found the hay beautfully cured. It was uice, blight, sweet and absolutely free from mustiuess aud not a leaf fell from a vine. Last year he used the same method, with the same result. Captain Self says the vines should lie so tightly packed around the edges is to exclude the air and the vines should be weighted down and the pens well covered. His plain is to lay rails across the top of the pen and top this off with straw.?Lincoln Jour ual. HOW TO BREATHE. As the world grows older and wiser, hygiene takes the place of medicine more and more. Better habits of living and smaller doses of drugs go hand in hand iu lowerihg the death rate. Here is a first rate receipt for strengthening the lungs: Thousands of people die every year because they do not know how to breathe as they should. Thin, pale, sallow people should wrap themselves thoroughly if the weather is cool, step out upon an open porch or stand at an open window, and fill the lungs moderately lull, breathing precisely as one does for the most violent exercise? that is, in short, quick, deep inspirations, each one occupying not over two seconds. Use the muscles to expand the lungs and chest, and inhale all the air possible. If the exercise causes pain or giddiness, stop at once. This is the natural consequence of the action and does no barm, provided it is not continued. After a few minutes, when all unpleasant feeling has passed away, repeat the effort. This may be done two or three times within au hour or so, and should be followed up day after day at intervals of from one to several hours. If the patient is very delicate, three times a day is enough for a beginning. In a very short time a marked improvement will be perceived. Another exercise with the lungs is to expand the chest with the muscles to its fullest extent, then fill the lungs and bold the breath as long as possible. This causes a heavy pressure of air on undeveloped and defective lung sells, and after a lime will open all of the passages of the lungs, and create a I condition of health to which a great many people are entire strangers. INFLUENCE OF BEAUTY UPON MEN. A French lady ouce remarked to another lady within the hearing of the writer: "You do uot care so much now about your looks, my dear, that you are married." There wus something very incongrous in this remark coming from the lips of a lady of Frauce, since all French women, as a rule, bear up their reputation lor skill aud tact in preserving their persoual seductiveness, fascinations aud charms even unto old age, thus showing their very great sense and, one might say, absolute wisdom. The very time when a woman does need 10 care about her good looks is alter she has won the heart of the one man in the world she cared about winning. For her own sake and her husband's she should care. No man wants his wife to seem lacking in charm. And once he loses his pride in her, he very fast loees his respect for her, and, where there is no respect, talk as you will, there can he no genuine, bigh-souled love. , A woman should make the most of * herself in her husband's eyes. She should endeavor to appear the fairest, daintiest, and the noblest woman of her sex. In word and deed, in fcer every mannerism, as well as in personal appearance, she should try her uttermost to inspire her husband with respect for her, and to keep and hold him enchanted and enthralled by meaus of those heart and mind qualities and personal seductions that first won him. A woman who is wise in this way need have no fear of cause for jealously. Jealously, by the way, my dear sisters, is nothing in the world but a personal acknowledgement that you regard yourself beneath some other woman or women in some respect. It is a tacit confession of your own inferiority ! Did you ever think of that? Another thing; to be jealous is to acknowledge your husband's unworthiness. No gentleman ever gives his wife cause for unfaith in him. If she be such that he cannot live with her, then he must leave her, but no man with a drop of good blood in his veins insults the woman to whom be has pledged his sacred marriage vows, whether ever suspected of such cowardice or not. It is u mistake to regard marriage as detrimental to a woman's welfare from any point of view, as sometimes it seems to be regarded, judging from such remarks as quoted ; on the contrary it broadens instead of narrowing woman's sphere, as when she marries her real life only begins! Then, and then only, does the supreme glorification of her sex begin to dawn.A FAMOUS RUNNER. Fifty years ago the renown of Ernest Menseu spread all over Europe. His exploits make the pedestrian feats of the present day look insignificant. He was a runuer who first came into notice by running from Paris to Moscow, a distance of 1,760 miles, in 13 days and 18 hours. In 1836 he ran through Central Asia from Calcutta to Constantinople, bearing dispatches for the East Iudia company. The distance is 5,615 miles, and he accomplished it in 59 days, one-third of the time taken by the swiftest caravan. A favorite employment for bim was as the messenger-extraordinary of sovereigns. He ran from couutry to couutry bearing letters and dispatches of the highest import, and always beat mouuted couriers when matched against them. He never walked, but always ran. Invariably he took the direct route to his destination, climbing mountains, swimmiug rivers, and guiding himself through forests in a way kupwn only to himself^ His food was a small quantity 'of biscuit and raspberry syrup. His rests he took twice in 24 hours, when he usually leaned against some support, covered his face wijb a "*-? handkerchief, and slept. If he was -* I * L compelled to remain quiet any leugtu of lime, he complained of giddiness and rush of blood to the head. In 1842 he was employed to discover the source of the Nile. Starting from Silesia iu May, 1843, he ran to Jerusalem, then to Cairo, and up the banks ' n of the Nile inio Egypt. Just outside the village of Lyaug he was seen to slop and rest, leaning against a palm tree, his face covered as was his wont. He rested so long that some persons tried to wake him. They tried in vain, for he was dead.