,THE BATTLE OP GETTYSBURG. Stwsereltboy up the hill. By cavalry maddened and white. Into the battle of bell'* wor -t ttifht— Into the battle of Gettysburg! Rallied the troops aid Into the fray. Rallied till backward and broken tney lay; Rallied till trampled and ;r >und to otoy— Into the battle ot Gettysburg! Volleys of shot and shell. Thousands of heroes who fell. Thou d of ascertaining this, to him. im >ortant point, fortune favored him. f r. Paul Morton himself appeared at lie door, accompaniel by the physi >an. As the distance was only .cross the street, James Cromwell I had no difficulty In hoaring the con* vernation that passed between them. ‘•What do you think of him, doc tor?” asked Paul Morton, In accents of pretonded anxiety. “Don’t you think there is any help for him?” “No; I regret to say that I think there is none whatover. From the first I considered it a critical case, but within two or three days the symptoms have become more un favorable, and his bjdily strength, of which, at least, he had but little, hae so sensibly declined, that I fear there is no help whatever for him.” “How long do you think he will last, doctor?’’ was the next inquiry. “he cannot last a week, in my judgment. II he does it will sur prise me very much. He is wealthy, is he not?” « ' "Yes; ho has been a successful man of business.” "Where has he passed his life?" “Iu China. That is, he has lived there' for a considerable time. ” “Probably the climate may have bad a deleterious effect upon his constitution. I will call round upon him to-morrow.” “very wen, doctor, l will rely upon you to do whatever human skill can accomplish for my sick friend.” “I am afraid human skill, even the greatest, can do little now. There are some recent symptoms which, l confess, puzzle me somewhat, as they are not usual in a disease of the character of that which affects our patient” “Indeed!” said Paul Morton, brief ly, but in a tone which did not indi cate any desire to continue the dis cussion of this branch of the sub ject “Well, doctor, I will not further trespass upon your time, which I know very well is valuable. Good night.” “Good night!” said the physician, and drawing on his gloves, he de scended the steps, and jumped into the carriage which was waiting for him. “Well,” thought James Cromwell, emerging from the shaded doorway in which he had silently concealed himself—for he did not wish to run the risk of detection and possible recognition by his old customer, whom he, on his part, had recognized without difficulty. "Well, I’m in luck. I happened here just at the right time. I know pretty well what’s going on now, and I can give, a guess as to the rest. It seems there’s a sick man inside, and that within two or three days he has been growing sicker. Maybe I could give a guess as to what has made him grow sicker. So the doctor don’t understand somo of his recent symptoms. Perhaps I could throw a little light upon the matter, if it were worth my while. Then, again, the sick man happens to be wealthy. Perhaps there is nothing in that, and then, perhaps, again, there is. Well, there are strange things that hap pen in this world, and, if I’m not mistaken, I’m on the track of one of them. 1 rather think I shall find my advantage in it before I get through. I’ve got that man in my power, if things are as I suspect, and it won’t be long before I shall let him know of it. I might as well be going home now.” James Cromwell walked to Broad way, then walked a few squares down, until he reached the Fifth Avenue hotel bright with lights, and thronged, as usual, in the even ing. “I think I will go in and have a smoke,” said James Cromwell. He entered, and making bis way to the cigar stand, purchased an ex pensive cigar and sat down for a smoke. It was not often that he was so lavish, but he felt that the discovery he had made would event ually prove to him a source of in come, and this made him less careful of his present means. “This is the way I like to live,” he thought, as he looked around him, “instead of the miserable lodg ing where I am cooped up. I would lixe to live in a hotel like this, or at least in a handsome boarding-house, and fare like a gentleman.” While he was thinking thus, his attentfon was drawn to a conversa tion which he heard beside him. The speakers were apparently two business men. “What do you think of Morton’s business position?” “What Morton do you mean?” "Paul Morton.” ‘•If you want my real opinion, I think he is in a critical condition.” “Is it as bad as that?” “Yes. I have reason to think so. I don't believe he will keep his head above water long unless he receives some outside assistance.” ••I have hoard that whispered by others.” 44lt is more than whispered. Peo pie are getting shy of extending credit to him. I shouldn’t be sur prised myself to bear of his failure any day.” James Cromwell listened eagerly to this conversation!. He was sharp of comprehension, and he easily dis cerned the motive arising in Paul Morton's eraoarrassed affairs, which should have led him to aneh a des perate resolution as to hasten the death of a guest. There was one thing he did not yet understand. Paul Morton must be sure that the death of the siek man would redound to his own advantage, or be would not incur such a risk. “ CHAPTER VL The Face at the Funeral. “Ralph, here is your son,” said Paul Morton, ushering the boy into the sick chamber of his dither. The sick man turned his face toward those who had Just entered, and his face lighted up aa his glance rested om his son. / “I MB glad you have asme. Hobart,” he said. ‘v:;;v .;.hf-v i.f ''I1 . ¥4yik. •« . ., ' . “Dear father,” said Bobort, burst* lng into tears, “how sMk you are looking!" “Yes, Robert,” said Ralph Ray* mond feebly, “I am not long for thl t world. I have become very foozle, and I know that I shall never leave this chamber till I am carried out In my coffin.” “Don't say that, father,"said Rob ert in tones of grief. “It is best that you should know the truth, my son, especially, as my death cannot be long delayed.” “You will live some months, fath er, will you not?" “I do not think I shall live a week, Robert," said his father. “The san^g of my life are nearly run out; but I am not sorry. Life has lost its attractions for mo, and my oftly do siro to live would proceed from the reluctance I feel at leaving you." “Wnat shall I do without ybu, father?" asked the boy, his breast heaving with painful sobs which ha was trying in vain wholly to repress. “I shall not leave you whcrily alone, my dear boy. I have arranged that you may be in the chargo of my old friend, Mr. Morcon. who. I am sure, .will take the tenderest care of you, and try to be a father to you." “Yes,” said Paul, coming forward, “as your father says, I have prom ised to do for you what I can when he has left us. I would that he might bo with us many years, but sinco providenco in its inscrutable wisdom has ordained otherwise, we must bow to the stroke, and do the best we can." He put his fine cambric hand ker chief to his eyes to wipe away the tears which were not there, and seemed affected by deep grief. The interview did not last long, for it was apparent that the excite ment was acting unfavorably upon the sick man, whose strength was now very slight. So Paul Morton left the room, bijt by Ralph's request Lbbert was left behind, oil condition that he would not' speak. The boy buried his head in the bod clothes and sobbed gently. In losing his father he lost his only relative, and though he had not seen very much of him in his lifetime, that little in tercourse had been marked by bo much kindness on the part of his father, that apart from the claims of duty arising from relationship, ho felt a warm and grateful love for his parent. The bitterness of being alone in the world already swept over him in anticipation, and he re mained for hours silent and motion less in the sick chamber of his fathe r. Matters continued thus for two days. During that time Paul Morton came little into the sick chamber. Even his audacious and Bhameless spirit shrank from witnessing the gradual approaches of that death which had been hastened by his dia bolical machinations. He would have the entire control of his ward’s property, and he did not doubt that he could so use it as to stave off ruin, and establish him self on a new footing. Then again, there was the contingency of the boy’s death; and upon this, improb able as it was, he was continually dwelling. After two days the end came. The nurse came hurrying into the room of her master, and said. “Come quick, Mr. Morton. I think the poor gentleman is going.” “Not dying?” asked Paul Morton with a pale face, for although ex pected, the intelligence startled him. •■Yes; you must come quick, or you will not see him alive.” Paul Morton rose mechanically from his chair, and hastily thrust into his pocket a sheet of paper on which he had been making some arithmetical calculations as to the fortune of his dying guest, and fol lowing the nurse entered the sick chamber, it was indeed as she had said. Ralph Raymond was breathing slowly and with difficulty, and it was evident from the look upon his face, that the time of the great change had come. [TO BE CONTINUED.] To the Sooth t’ole. Dr. John Murray’s proposed expe dition to the South pole is attracting favorable attention in Europe. It is more than fifty years since James Ross, after discovering Victoria, penetrated to the 78th degree south latitude, and since then, with the exception of the Challenger, hardly a vessel has gone that way. The present proposal is indirectly due to the reports brought back by a couple of Scotch whalers which in 18‘Jl went southward of Cape Horn in their search for fresh hunting grounds. Dr. Murray believes in the existence at the South poe of a I continent asj large as Australia, in I which are to be studied the two > great phenomena of glaciation and | volcanic action. The Clean English. j “An American writer," says Tit | Bits, “praises tlie English as the cleanest people on earth, and de clares that the reason for our extra cleanliness is because the fogs and smoke of our island would make us the dirtiest people in the world but for our iustinctive cleanliness. The concluding paragraph of his ap I preciative remark is worth quoting: ‘It is to the magic of the tub and the towel that the matchless com plexions ahd the superb figures of tho English women are due.’ " The revenues of the clergy of tho Church of England are f38,00',).03 t But of this sum, which is not so much as the clergy of America receive, al moat nothing eoams from the free will offeringe of the people, the lac wu into the rug ged reoosses otg* '•■’"ituro; tenderly supporting theAkr /Jheaa, and bind* ing up the broken heart. < : _ Karl’* Clover Root Tea, The great mood purlflerdrlven rmlmeu ami elearneea to ttieComplexion und ourve Uomttlpalloo. SSu.JOu^Vl* An Awful Symptom. Mr a New Wed (In tears)—Oh, George, t I'm so glad you've cornel You must go for the doctor at once. I'm sure something serious is the matter with baby. Mr. New Wed—Why, what makea you think so? Has he symptoms of croup, whooping cough, meas— Mra New Wed—Oh, no, no; some- < thing more serious, I'm sure. He hasn’t!' . cried today.—Brooklyn Dife. Con’s Ceegh Dolsant la tlie oldeat and beau It will break up a Cold qutela ar tnan anything elaa. It la alwaya reliable. Try lit Whiting and benzine mixed together will clean marble. *• Hanson's Mngte tarn Nalrr." Warranted to euro or money refunded. Ask your druggist lor It. frluu 13 eenu. A rainbow is the wedding ring when nur * shine and shower marry. Billiard Table, second-hand. For sale The only reason why a lie looks white in the face is because it wears a mask. of people who visit the Invalids* v Hotel and surgical Institute, at Buz* falo, N. Y., lire many who ate sent w”there, by thoao who have already, from personal experience, learned of the great Triumph In Conservative Surgery achieved by tbo Surgeons of that famed matr tutlon. Little heroic, or cutting surgery is found neeeaaary. For Instance, TUMOR* Ovarian, Fibroid (ITtorlne) and * wmuilw many others, are removed by Electrolysis and other conservative means ana Electrolysis and thereby tbo perils svolded. of cutting operations Pll F TIIMOR* however Urge. Fistula • ILC I umuno, and other diseases of the lower bowel, are permuneatly cured without pain or resort to tno knife. RIIPTIIRF or Breach (Hesn