; ' 'll.
p , ~~~
'YOUR TRIUMPH IS MV OWN.
- Y -
, ■, '‘Others shnll sing the song,
. < t{niters shall right the wrong,
** ’ ilnlsh. what I begin,
• i~ /And all I (ailed of win.
"»■,y King bolls in unroarod steeples
'ft;;; The Jo.v of unborn peoples!
■iff Sound trumpets farolT blown,
i;». Your triumph Is my own!"
;X i -Whittle?.
;|iThe Actor’s Story.
ft.-'" BV JOHN (OLE.HAN.
CHAPTER XI—Continuer.
Good God! It was Mnv 12 that
:■ , Very day. Yost twelve months ton
" day. almost to an hour; and now this
accursed thing had como to romind
‘ft, him of his humiliation, his dogrnda
lion, and of tho rullianly outrage of
Which ho had been'tlio victim! (iriof.
I*, shame, rage, despair tilled his heart
and fired his brain, and with a wild
S'p, cry the unfortunato man fell sense
■ less to the ground.
At that moment tho manager, who
had como mound to-congratuluto him.
ft,ft entered his dressing-room. Mr.
ir-, C—-took stock of the situation at
‘ once. ’vjuick! to iny room; bring a
•'..a' bottle of whiskey—sharp's the word.'”
|ft Said ho to the dresser.
it* (sharp was the word, and In a min*
g' uto the dressor was buck with tho
0- whiskey. Tho manager in tho interim
had unloosed Curly’s cravat und
batliod his forohead witli cau de
I cologne. Then bo administered a
f : glass or two of neat whiskey; tho
effect was as lastantunonus as remark*
nbia Curly pulled hlmscif togothor,
said something about being overcome
jft with heat and ovcitnmenu picked up
the letter, put it into his pocket no*
ceptod tho manager's congratula*
tiona nrrungod a boutonniere from
the flowers for his last scene. slipped
•ft on his dressing-gown, thought he
would have another glass of whiskey,
■ft and rushed on tho stage.
;,i It will be ro me in bo rod that this is
ft the situation in which Doricourt pro*
v; tends to go mud. By this timo ( urly
fS hud got tho uudienee in tho ball of
his hand and could do just what ho
; liked with them. Round followed
, - round of applause, roar followed roar
■ of laughter, and Curly laughed, too
—indeed, ho laughed louder than nny
one. Evidently he was enjoying tho
ft j-pwformance qulto as much us tub'
spectators.
ft,? When tho sccno was over ho ro*
turned to his dressing-room, slipped
;;; on his coat, ••slippod into" tho whis
‘ key. and fin Is tied the bottlo! Do
eldedly he was enjoying himself. Yes!
bo was having a high, line old timo of
it!
ft/ Mi Back he went to tho prompt en
trance—ho had tied a hundcrchlef
grotesquely over his head—and on he
. came for his last mad scene. Ho
v laughed louder than over—the au
dlence laughed, the actors laughed—
ft never had a mad scone boon acted so
l*. naturally before. Tho house was In
convulsions—so was Curly. He had
Just announced his intention of
'5 ’Hunching on a steak of broiled hip
. popotamus before ho wont on a voy
age of discovery to tho moon," when
ft?; all at once he appearod 10 change his
' mind on tho subject. Standing quite
ft still, he glared into tho stage-box to
ftp his right It was empty—quite omp
• ty. There was no mistake about
V that But Doricourt seemed to bo
; under tho impression that some ono
,'*i was there, for ho began to apostro
phize an Imaginary ob oct
ft/' 'll wasn’t my fault darling, "ho
/ft exclaimed. "You know I would have
■ died for your sake; but I had no wea
rs pon. If 1 had! if I had! Don’t
look at me Uko that dear! $oe. see!
4/ the coach is at tho door; thoy are
coming to take you away, but they
ft/; shan’t Take your hands from her,
ftft curse you!—take your hands from
4 her! Nay. then-" And with a
ft wild piercing scream that rang
ft through: every corridor and every
i' avenue la the building, the poor
wretch leaped into the empty box a
ft raving mad man.
ft What signifies the play or tho audl*
' onoe now?
5ft When Tragedy casts her sad and
/ft solemn shadow over tho scene—when
ft tho poisoned bowl overflows and tho
keen dagger la uplifted to strike tho
fatal blow—Tomfool lays aside his
cap and bella and the graceless hus
. ties Farce and Comedy, retire; and
ft hide their diminished heads So
ft. drop tho curtain. Mr. Stage Manager.
4 : put out tho lights and send for the
ftft!: doctor!
f-'T*.
?uvi; •
*
CHAPTER XII.
OH the Scent
It so happened on the night of
Curly’s debut that there was produced
•t Corent Harden theater a new sen
sational drama, with a real waterfall
real elephants and real horses.
At the Haymartcet there was a new
oomedy. and as at that time critics
were scarce and penny papers were
not In being, the mere debut of a
provincial comedian In an old comedy
' escaped notice and therefore there
was no publlo mention of the scene
recorded in the last chapter.
It remains to bo explained why
Flora sent the paper which had such
disastrous results. Poor girl! She
had meant it for a peaco-oflering. be
lieving in her inmost heart that Curly
would accept it as a release from a
promise which she felt convinced had
been as infamously extorted as it bad
loon unwillingly given. She timed
the arrival of the parcel to take place
on ihe» occasion of his opening in
town, hoping, in the innocence of
her heart to lend additional signifi
cance to this token of her forgiveness.
She ordered all the London papers,
expecting to see some notice oi her
lover’s first appearance. There was
not a line. She showed the papers
.to Jamieson. He was as disappointed
herselt ' ''
Disappointment gave way to aston
ishment when they found Curly’s
namo withdrawn altogether from the
advertisements. At this time the
electric wire was not in existence.
Day'succeeded day. yet there was no
NOOgnltion of her communication—
ft
no lotter forWHHo! Weeks—months
—possod. He wrote again, and y«t
again, in vain. His letters came back
from tho dead letter office. IIU own
troubles were as nothing now com
pared to his anxiety for Curly und
Flora. Mo could not beur to contem
plato her sufferings. To-day sho was
in n fovor. to-morrow in an ague; ono
moment chafing with impatlenco. the
next freezing with the apathy of
despair. All at onco it occurred to
him to write direct to tho manager of
Drury Lane. The post in those days
took a long time 'twist London and
Edinburgh, and a fortnight or moro
elapsed bsforo he received a reply.
It was sympathetic but brief, and
related in ns fow words as possible
tho tragic story told in tho last chap
ter.
it appears mat there were two or
tlirco eminent medical men in tho
theater, who came behind the scenes,
and held a hurried consultation.
There was no doubt ns to Curly’s con
dition. It was dangerous to himself
nad others for him to remain at large.
A certllicnte to this etlect was then
nnd there prepared, nnd duly attested.
Three or four men wore detaiiod to
mount guard over him in his dressing
room until the morrow. Enrly in tho
duy tho manager, with tho accus
tomed generosity of his class ar
ranged with tho proprietor of a fam
ous privato lunatic asylum at Kew to
take charge of the poor creature for
threo months paying tho sum stipu
lated in advance.
At night-fall the keepers came to
take him nwny. Whon they arrived
at Kow the doctor diagnosed the caso.
and had his wrotehed patient removed |
to tho dangerous wnrd, where after a j
time the ravings of despair gave
place to blank oblivion.
Jamieson's difficulty was to break
the matter to Flora but there was no
help for it.
She bore the intelligence better
than he expected—anything wns bet
tor than silence and uncertainty. She
oven found somo sbadow of consola
tion in tho nows. Sho knew, at any
rute, that the silence of her lover was
not occasioned by perfidy or neglect.
When Willio had finished reading tho
manngor’s letter she said abruptly
••I am going to Condon to-morrow.”
■‘Alone,” he inquired.
••No; Jeannio will accompany' me.”
••If you could only wait a few days
I might get leave of absence to go
with you” he said.
••You uro very good,” sho replied;
••but my place is by his side. I can
not wait a day—an hour. My God!
my God!” she cried, "why can't I fly
straight to him at once. There!
thoro! I know I am only mad!”
On the morrow Jamieson was at
tho coach offico to seo her off. She
looked more hopeful than she had
done for many n duy. nnd as the
coucq was about to start sho even
smiled, nnd suid:
••Don’t look so sad. be suro I shall
bring him back with mo.”
••••Heaven grant you may," he re
plied, and so they parted.
Upon her arrival in town Bhe took
up quarters at tho I!odford hotel. An
.hour afterward, aecompauied by her
faithful Jeannio. sho was on her way
to tho asylum at Kew. Upon explain
ing her business the doctor was most
affuble. hut regretted ho could be of
no service; her friend having left his
charge a week ago.
Tho news stunned her. she stag
gered. and must have fallen had not
Jeannio caught hor in her arms.
Gradually she began to recoven then
she overwhelmed him with questions.
Mie could only, however, elicit that
his patient had ceased to be violent
and that there was no ocoaslon for
further restraint that he was merely
melancholy and moping, and that his
health and appetite hud returned.
Thau, referring to his note-book, he
said;
“Yes, my contract was only for
three months, and that expired a
fortnight ago. 1 gave a week’s grace
expecting to hear further from Mr. C,
(tl\° manager), and then of course.
I had done with the matter. Let me
see, the patient loft this establish
ment’at nine o clock In tho morning,
exactly eight days ago. Do 1 know
where ho went? Certainly not he
did not take me into his confidence
So sorry—will you excuse me? Good
morning.”
nope less ana despairing. Flora re- !
turned to town. Next day she called !
at Drury Lane and endeavored to see i
Mr. C. Alas! he had loft town, was
In Faria and would not be back until
the winter. She had never been In
London before and oh. what a wilder
ness it is to be alone in!
Fortunately she had Jeannie with
her. whose attachment was more de
voted and proround than ever. Be
sidea she had money, and with money
one can do much. She called the
manageress of the hotel to her assis
tance. The old lady was very sym
pathetic. and suggested the ethploy.
ment of a detectivo. Flora assented,
and in half an hour's time a bright
intelligent man. who looked more
I like a gentleman farme*-than a police
man in plain clothes presented him
| self. I'pon explaining her business
I tho detective toolc a hopeful view of the
j subject especially when carte blanche
was allowed him as to expenses.
lie commenced operations by going
to Kew, where he had a long interview
with the doctor, from whom, he could
gain no information beyond what
Flora had already obtained. He.
however, took uotos of everything,
and obtained a fairly accurate de
scription of Curly’s personal appear
ones the clothes he wore etc., be
fore he returned to town. All this he
dnly reported at the Bedford.
Day after day. was barren of re
sults. As for Flora, she sat dally for
hours and hours and .watched and
waited; theft she could endure inac
tivity no longer. Up she would start,
and call out;
•■Coma Jeannia lass, let’s be mov
ing. or I shall go mad!" and the two
forlorn women would tramp down the
Strand and Cheaps Ida and so on to
if- "'iff: . ■ "
tie Mansion House. Then down Bol
bora through Middle Kow. by St
Giles's cnureh. Into Oxford street
then to llegent streot Leicester
Square and St. Martin's lane always
ending among the (lowers in Covent
Garden — the sweet fresh flowors
which seemed to brentho something
of the odors of the far North, where
she had lirst mot him! As for food,
sho scarce looked at it To be just
! to Jeannic, however, sho conscien
| tiously endeavored to make amends
for the shortcomings of her mistress.
At night to bed. but not to rest nor
to sleep—her heart wa3 far away, out
in the cold with the poor outcast
Thus Gassed away a fortnight and
another, and yot another—still no
sign. Then tho detective thought of
what he should have thought of be
foro. anil indeed, it was strange the
idea had nol occurred either to her
or to Willie although she wu3 in con
stant communication with him. Hot
ter into than ever, so advertisements
nppearod dally in all the London
newspapers.
in vain, in vain! It was too late!
Jeannie's heart some within her as
sho saw tho awful change which was
taking place daily and hourly before
her very eyes. Once or twice sho
venturod to hint the propriety of re
turning home, but was met with a
curt and stern rebuff.
At last it occurred to her that
Jamieson had considerable influence
with hor mistress, so she wrote him
in her homely fashion, acquainting
him with tho state of affairs; and. to
Flora s astonishment, one morning, ho
walked into her room at the hotel.
•<lood heavens!'’ she exclaimed.
‘•Mr. Jamieson!. What has brought
you hero?"
The change in her was so great
that for a moment tho young man was
dazed. He recovered himself, how
ever. rapidly, and replied, •Tvecome
to take you home."
His stronger nature asserted
Itself and would not be
denied. so; after interviewing
tho detective; and arranging with him
to communicato with them in the
event of his obtaining nny informa
tion. they decided to leave London on
tho morrow. Perhaps she was glad
to have some one to lean upon, to bo
near some one who know and loved
the man sho loved. Perhaps, too;
she felt the shndow darkening—per*
haps; who knows?
[TO BE CONTINUED. ]
THE ACTION OF DUST.
Unw It Is Forced Into Houses IVlien the
Weather Indicator lilac*.
When the air around us becomes
condensed—shrinks into a smaller
volume—it becomes heavier, puts
greater pressuro on tho surfaco of the
mercury and makes it ascend in the
tube; then the mercury is said to rise.
When the air expands—swells into
a larger volume—it becomes lighter,
tho pressure on the mercury sinks in
the tube and the barometer is said to
fall. Therefore, every change of
height of the quicksilver which wo
observe is a sign and moasure of a
change in the volume of air around
us. Further, adds the Popular Science
Monthly, this change in volume tells
no less upon the air inside our cases
and cupboards. When the barometer
falls the air around it expands into a
larger volume, and the air inside the
cupboard also expands and forces it
self out at every minute crevice*
When the baromoter rises again the
air inside the cupboard, as well as
outside, condenses and shrinks, and
air is forced back into the cupboard
to equalize the pressure and along
with the air in goes the dust The
smaller the crevice the stronger the
jet of air, the farther goes tho dirt
Witness the dirt tracks so often seen
in imperfectly framed engravings and
photographs. Remember, ladies and
gentlemen, whenever you see the bar
ometer rising, that an additional
ohargo of dust is entering your cup*
boards and drawers.
A Japanese Wedding.
A Japanese wedding must ba a very
melancholy affair, la Japan it is not
good form for the bride to admit that
she enjoys the prospect of getting
marriod. and. therefore; when she is
told about it three or four days be
fore the event she is expected to set
up a loud bellowing and keep it up
day and night until the ceremony
comes on. Alter she has been richly
dressed for the occasion, she is ex
pected to hang back and shriek, and
make a show of resisting her atten
dant's efforts to lead her to the bride
groom. This hollow farce is kept up
by one of the bridesmaids finally
throwing a veil over the bride’s face,
while an old hag takes her on her
back and carries her to a sedan chair
waiting at the door to take her to the
bridegroom's mansion. When she
arrives there she is a wife, the simple
ride in a flowery chair having the
mystic power of transforming her into
a married woman. From that time
she begins to brighten up.
Kafeznarda In a Bank*
The Bank of England's doors are
now so finely balanced that the clerk,
by pressing a knob under his desk,
can close the outer doors instantly,
and they cannot be opened again ex
cept by special process. This is done
to prevent the daring and ingenious
| unemployed of the great metropolis
from robbing the famous institution.
The bullion department of this and
other great English banking estab
lishments are nightly submerged in
several feet of water by the action of
the machinery. In some of the Lon
don banks the bullion departments
are connected with the manager's
sleeping rooms and an entrance can
not be effected without setting off an
alarm near the person's head. If a
dishonest official during the day or
night should take even as much as
one from a pile of one thousand
sovereigns the whole pile would in
stantly sink and a pool of water take
its place, besides letting every person
in the establishment know of the thefk
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
THE WORST WEEDS THE PARM
ER MUST FIGHT.
Those That Reach Far Down In the Soil
—Preventing Horns—Weaning the Ut
ters—Waste LmihI Near Cities—Horti
cultural Hints and Household Helps.
Pentlferou* Weeds.
Other things being equal, the worst
woods wo havo to fight against are
those with long roots which extend
so far down into the soil that ordin
ary cultivation dcos not destroy
them. They are generally the ones
that thrive season after season, and
continue to multiply in spite of all
efforts to destroy them. They ex
tend their tap roots down below the
depth reached by the plow or hoes,
and while they seem to be uprooted
by these instruments, they are real
ly only checked in their growth. It
is quito essential in fighting tho
weeds that wo should know the dif
ference between tho long-rooted kind
1 and those that live on the surface
\ soil. If tho long-rooted ones are not
; destroyed by digging up tho whole
of their roots, they will progress
rapidly, and soon overrun a farm.
Among those long-rooted plants
that injuro our fields are the well
known dandelions, burdocks, chicory,
the wild parsnip, carrot, bugloss,
hound’s tonguo, primrose, teasel,
shepherd’s purse, mallow and mul
lein. These long-rooted weeds belong
to several families, but they can be
grouped together by the peculiarity
of their long tap root, and it is this
nuisance which makes them of
special interest to the farmer.
The wild parsnip is among' the
largest and coarsest of these weeds,
says the American Cultivator, and
they readily take possession of waste
ground, and gradually extend to
cultivated fields, if not checked. It
lives, however, only for two years,
and if the seed stalks are cut off
carefully every year they can easily
be exterminated. The common dande
lions, however, instead of being
-destroyed by cutting off tho top,
seems to increase more rapidly by
this disturbance. It produces several
hoads of leaves when the one is cut
off. The whole root should be dug
up and destroyed. The common
burdock is a disagreeable plant, and
it deceives many by its size, and
attempts are often made to pull it
up. The root invariably breaks off,
and leaves enough in the ground to
start new plants.
The wild carrot in many parts of
tho East has become a most de
termined nuisance, and it seeds
abundantly and quickly wherever it
has become established. If the
flower tops are cut off to prevent
seeding, new ones quickly form. It
is a biennial plant, however, and if
prevented from going to seed its life
will bo cut short. But*to prevent
this, eternal vigilance is demanded
every week or two all through the
flowering season. Mullein is a weed
that is good for nothing, for no ani
mal on tho farm will eat it. unless
occasionally a hungry pig will nibble
it. This seeds rapidly and maintains
its life under most discouraging cir
cumstances. It must be uprooted,
and the plant burnt to make sure
work. Nearly all of the other deep
rooted plants mentioned must bo
treated in some effective way, to
check their growth. The common
curled dock must be uprooted en
tirely to destroy it. as cutting off
only checks growth.
Preventing Horn*.
The department of agriculture says
the growth ox horns can be prevented
by a mixture of fifty parts of caustic
soda, twenty-five parts of kerosene
oil and twenty-fivo parts of water.
An emulsion is made of tho kerosene
oil and soda by heating and vigorous
ly stirring, and this is then dissolved
in water. The mixture should then
be placed in a bottle with a solid
rubber cork. In applying, the calf
should not be over three weeks old;
from five to twenty days being tho
proper age. With a pair of scissors
clip the hair around the embryo horn
exposing a spot about tho size
of a nickel. Hold the calf
securely and drop two or throe
drops of the mixture upon the
horn, and with the end of the
rubber cork rub it thoroughly
over the bare spot. Apply the fluid
first to one horn and then the other,
until each horn has been gone over
three or four times. Tho rubbing
should be continued until the caustio
has softened and removed the hair
and surface skm immediately around
the horn. Care should bo taken that
the fluid does not spread over a large
surface or run down tho sides of tho
face. The mixture must be carefully
and thoroughly applied; if used care
lessly tho embryo horn may not only
be killed, but the face of the calf be
disfigured. This is less cruel to the
animal, gives a well-rounded poll and
presents a more sightly appearance
than when the saw is used later in
life.—Farmers Voice.
Wetmiug the Litters.
As a rule the litters are allowed to
remain with the dam9 until she sees
fit to wean them. This she will do
when the flow of milk ceases. Our
only exception to the above is when
for any reason litters come out of
! reason and it is desirable to mate the
j dam when the pigs are quite young,
I so that the entire next crop of pigs
i will appear together. In instances
of this kind the litters are some
times weaned as young as six weeks,
in case the dam fails to come in sea
son while the pigs nurse. It is al
most impossible to wean litters and
not check growth to some extent.
Still the advantage of having
the eoming litters appear together
more than compensates this loss,
which is cot necessarily gre' ♦. if the
pigs have been accustomed to eating
from the trough prior to weaning and
supplied with bran and shorty
scalded and thinned to slop consist
ency with sweet skint-milk, or hotter,
milk fresh from the cow. The litters
that are weaned young must not B8'
expected to hustle for a bite among
the older pigs; lienee should be pro
vided with separate quarters and
given special feed and care; other
wise knock them in the head at once
and save feed and trouble.
Most dams will nurse a litter as
long as the supply of milk holds out,
and if there is no special cause for
removing tho litter the support the
sow furnishes them between the ages
of eight aud twelvo weeks is just
that much in their favor, and if the
sow has good keeping from thence on
till tho next litter is farrowed, tho
coming littor suffers no injury. If
so, in my experience I have never
been able to detect it.
In case a necsssity arises for a sep
aration of dam and litter, coniine the
dam and give tho litter as much
range as possible. The crumbs they
pick up over the farm will off-sat the
loss of dam's milk. Tho separation
should be as complete as possible,
out of sight arid hearing. Both dam
and litter will soon cease to be
troublesome. To coniine the litters
in weaning is simply to add an aggra
vation at a critical period. Six to
eight days are required to make the
separation of dam and litter com
plete. In the summer time, if tho
dams seem to be flush with milk, al
low the litters to draw the milk a
few times, which will prevent caking
of the udder and, congestion of the
m ilk glands, which would render the
s tock valueless as breeders. Corn
in the ear, with clear water, is the
best ration to dry up the flow of milk
rapidly.—Ohio Farmer.
Horticultural Hints.
The growing of celery is on the in
crease.
If fruit treos are planted in run
down land, it will be. necessary to
fertilize.
A solution of carbolic acid is
recommended to exterminate bugs at
the roots of vines.
For the gooseborry an airy and
cool location, with good, moist, but
not wot, soil is preferable.
Pinching back the new growth oi
the berry vines increases the bearing
surface, and keeps tho bushes low.
Trees ought not to stand so near
or so close together as to keep the
dwelling-house in continual shade.
Bong rows of vegetables and long
rows of every other cultivated crop
make cultivation more ecnomicaL
Some of the most successful of
Northern strawberry-growers never
fail to protect their plants in winter.
Thin out the fruit on the tree in
stead of propping the limbs. It will
increase the size and the quality of
the fruit
M. A. Thayer recommends green
clover just out of the blossom as the
best summer mulch for raspberries
and blackberries.
Hou<teho!<l Help*.
All traces of mud can easily be re
moved from black clothes by rub
bing the spots with a raw potato cue
in half.
If a bill must be sent through the
mail unregistered, fold it neatly
around a rather long visiting card
and it will escape, it is said, tho most
careful search of a postal thief.
| The chimney of a lamp should
never be touched with water. A few
drops of alcohol, or even paraffine
oil, will remove the dimmed smoky
effect and make the chimney as bright
a9 possible when it is polished with
a soft flannel or chamois skin.
1 Strawberry forks are a dainty nov
elty for tho table. They are small,
usually three tined, though they may
be two, and seem with their short
handles to be more bowl than handle,
the slender tines being quite two
inches long.
People should never go in th e early
morning to get boots and shoes fitted.
In the latter part of the day the feet
are at their maximum size. Activity
and standing tend to enlarge the feet.
If people would remember this rule,
there would not be so many com
plaints of shoos when worn being
tight, which when fitted seemed so
comfortable.
Thirst in the infant is nearly always
mistaken for h unger. Give your cry
ing child a little cool (preferably
boiled) water, using cup or spoon,
or try tiny pieces of ice tied in a
scrap of lawn and see if it does not
provo the very thing needed. Six
or seven times every day the babies
should be offered drink; it regulates
the bowels, cleanses the mouth and
stomach, and prevents in a measure
overfeeding.
ine more freely bedding can be
exposed to the sun and air the bet
ter, but exposure to the sun should
not include the pillows or feather
beds. The oily quality of the feath
ers is acted upon by exposure to a
hot sun. producing a Btrong, offen
sive and unhealthy odor—in direct
opposition to the results which it is
intended to obtain. But there should
be frequent exposure to the air, and
the more persistently this is carried
out the more healthful will be the
bed.
The best flavor to add to chocolate
is vanilla, next to that cinnamon.
Beyond these two things cne should
use great caution, as it is very easy
to spoil the fine natural flavor of the
bean. Chocolate absorbs odors
readily, therefore it should be kept
in a pure, sweet atmosphere. *■ As
about eleven per cent of the choco
late bean is starch, chocolate and
cocoa are of much finer flavor if
boiled for a few minutes. Long
boiling, however, ruins their flavor
and texture.
THa fatal buoo7
How the ToneB~i^r~~, —
\v— „ " Hl“Ud ^
™ sanies ot the river
a fifio situation overlook- <'CCuPJi*
bottom was a more pretenfithe **
than one sees often Fn V'Mw|,«£
and I rode up to it and^i 0c*%
lo!" As Is thecustomof thn^i ^
A gawky-looking youn*® co“ntij
came out. h J un? man 0, *
“Howd’y?" he said rath
as a question than a »reeti„»
4 “Do I keep along
to reach Parish’s saw-mill “? !•
“Yos; Idler it up an’
straight thar.” P an 1111 fke J0
0«p'“' *“">*«»«: „
“My wife.”
Ah, and does sho own ♦t,..* i
gate?"SSJf hitchod out
‘ies.
She owns evervtht,,
80?Ir°^ .hei,e-..includin'
Ho didn’t smile and
Clares the Detroit Free rw11'1 ^
EvidentlyitwasnoSinlm:^
“You ought to conside/S,
very lucky man,” I Sai,i „
ingly. * 1 a d’ enc°nraj
“1'hafs what most folks says ”
iTsStt rin *
tuve spirit and I was curious
cative
nun
‘•That ought to make it true” r
ventured. ’ 1
“Mebbe it does.”
ried?”W l0DS haV6 y°“ bsca
“Three years.”
“Did you live in this neighborly
before you were married?” ^
“Yes, and I was p’orer than .fob's
turkey, but somehow hlarthy, that',
my wife, kinder tuck to me an' I
kinder tuck to her, but I ’had J
doubts. Kinder felt some times that
money wuzn’t everything,” he added
rather hastily, as if his preyious re
mark might be misinterpreted.
“I don’t want to be inquisitive," I
said, “but I’d like to know how you
overcame your prejudices."
“Well,” he replied, as he hirer
over the fence, “’taint a long story
and’ cz I’m feelin’ kinder talky this
mornin’ I’ll toll you. You see, we
used to have a spellin’ school every
Friday night down at the ford, about
two miles from hero, and I alius
walked. Marthy had axed me to ride
down with her in her buggy more'a
once, but I was backerd about it;
and, besides, I hadn’t never rid in i
buggy, an’ wuz about half afeerd to
try it. Anyhow. I never went with
her, but it wuzn’t no trouble fer her
to get a man to go along, and she
didn’t seem to miss me much. Cm
Friday evenin’, though, the feller
that wuz to go wuz tuck sick at the
last m inute, an’ Marthy had to go by
herself. About half way thar she
overtuck me on the way, an', ur
course, she axed me to git in an'
ride, an’ thar wuzn’t no way uv git
tin’ out uv it, so I got in the buggy,
an’ she druv. Well, mister,” he con
tinued, with a sense of sentimcntnl
delight, “that buggy wuz like i
rockin’ chair, an’ beat walkin' all to
flinders, an’, somehow, Marthy wai
different an’—an'-”
He hesitated, as if he were talking
too much.
“Go ahead,” I said with a smile.
“Well, we didn’t git to the spellin'
school till it was mighty nigh over,"
he said, sheepishly.
“And since that time?” I asked,
feeling that the story was not quite
finished.
He cautiously looked over bin
shoulder toward the house, and beat
over closer to me.
“Well,” he whispered, “a good
many times since that I’ve sorter
wished I’d a walked. ”
As I rode on to Parish's mill it oc
curred to me that a man of much
greater refinement could not have
put the matter more delicately.
An Ancient Mariner.
Among the many ancient coasters
that regularly visit the port of Ban
gor is a small craft which has the
honor of being tlie oldest merchant
vessel in actual service in the Unite#
States. There are vessels which ore
said to be older, but they are not in
service nor registered in the record
of the bureau of navigation. This j*
the schooner Good Intent, bap*
Watson Wardwell, of Rockland. T“®
Good Intent is twenty-three tonsreg
ister, and was launched at Braintree.
Maqs., in 1813, making her eigW
years old. • She has been repa
and rebuilt, with hundreds of 9P
and acres of canvas, till, like
Irishman’s jackknife, she is the s“
old original, and her skipper cia
that there are still in the hull tw
three white oak planks that were
her when she was launched.
A Granite Camel.
One of the most curious rock forfflf"
tions in the world is to be see“
Arizona. It is a short distance
of the stage road between I
and Oracle and stands on a
several feat above the surrounding
sand hills. It is a most pe™4
representation of a camel, an ^ ^
It is
formed of one piece of granite,
about sixty feet high and is
white and smooth. There ar
wane sou suiuu^ the?
few fissures on the surface. an w
strangely are in tho pioperp
form features. The only .r0* JItIr
joction from the surface « ■ t(f0
placed for an eyebrow. 1 m
humps are plainly to be so
the neck is curved beautifully
Oct.,
•All the suitors for » *>-■- „rnerot«
Borneo are expected to be s r
in their presents to her. jore
ents are never returned. u
the wily female defers as ^
possible a positive selcctio
happy man. 4