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