lily Fellow Laborer. 1 HieeM By H. RIDER HAGGARD. CHAPTER IV.—(Contimkd.) But putting aside the mental trouble into which this most melancholy af fair plunged me, it gave me much cause for reflection. Making all allow ance for the natural disappointment and distress of a woman who was, I suppose, warmly attached to • me at the time, I could not help seeing that her conduct threw a new and altogeth er unsuspected light upon Fanny’s character. It showed me that, so far from understanding her completely, as I had vainly supposed to be the case, I really knew little or nothing about her. There were depths In her, mipd that I had not fathomed, and in all probability never should fathom. I had taken her for an open-hearted wo man of great Intellectual capacity that removed her far above the every-day, level of her sex, and directed her am bitions almost entirely toward the goal of mental triumph. Now I saw that the diagnosis must be modified. In all her outburst there had not been one single word of pity for my heavy mis fortunes, or one word of sympathy with * ‘the self-sacrifice whiah she must have known involved a dreadful struggle between my inclinations and my con science. She had looked at the matter from her own point of view, and the standpoint of her own interest solely. Her emotion had for a few moments drawn the curtain from her inner self, and the new personality that was thus revealed did not altogether edify me. Still, I felt that there was great excuse for her, and so put by the matter. After this unfortunate occurrence, I made up my mind that Fanny would take some opportunity to throw up her work and go away and leave us; but she did not take this course. Either because she was too fond of my poor •boy John, who, as he grew older, be came more and more attached to her, or because she saw no better opening —not being possessed of independent means—Ehe evidently made up her mind to stop on in the house and con tinue to devote herself to the search for the great Secret of Life. 1 think my self that it was mainly on account of the boy, who loved her with an entirety that at times almost alarmed me, and to whom she was undoubtedly devoted. But from that time a change came ■over Fanny’s mental attitude towards me, which Was as palpable as it was indefinable. Outwardly there was no change, but in reality a veil fell be tween us, through which I could not see. It fell and covered up her nature; nor could I guess what went on be hind it. Only I knew that she devel oped a strange habit of brooding silent I Iy about matters not connected with our work, and that, of all this brood ing, nothing ever seemed to come. Now I know that she was building up far . reaching plans for the future, which had for their object her escape from •what she had come to consider was a hateful and unprofitable condition of servitude. Meanwhile our work advanced but slowly. I could take anybody who is curious to the big fire-proof chest in the corner of this very room, and show him two hundred-weight or more paper covered with abortive calculations worked by Fanny, and equally abortive letter-press written by myself during those years of incessant labor. In vain we toiled; Nature would not give up her secret to us! We had indeed found the lock, and fashioned key after key to turn it. But, do what we would, and file as we would, they would none of them fit, or, even if they fitted, they would not turn. And then we would begin again; again, after months of la bor, to fail miserably. During these dark years I worked with the energy of despair, and Fanny followed, doggedly, patiently, and un complainingly in my steps. Her work was splendid in its enduring hopeless ness. To begin with, so far as I was concerned, though my disease made but little visible progress, I feared that my sand was running out. and that none would be able to take up the broken threads. Therefore I worked as those work whose time is short and who have much to do. Then, too, I was haunted by the dread of ultimate failure. Had I, after all, given up my life to a dream? At last, however, a ray of light came, as it always—yes, always—will to those who are strong and patient, and watch the sky long enough. I was sitting in my arm-chair, smok ing, one night after Fanny had gone to bed, and fell into a sort of doze, to wake up with a start and—an inspira tion. I saw it all now; we had been ■working at the wrong end, searching for the roots among the topmost twigs of the great trees! I think that I was really inspired that night; an angel had breathed on me in my sleep. At any rate. I sat here, at this same table at which I am writing now, till the dawn crept in through the shutters, and covered sheet after sheet with the ideas that rose one after another in my brain, in the most perfect order and continu ity. When at last my hand refused to hold the pen any longer, I stumbled off to bed, leaving behind me a sketch of the letter-press of all the essential problems finally dealt with in the work known as “The Secret of Life.” Next day we began again upon these now lines, though I did not tell Fanny of the great hopes that rose in my heart. I had assured her that we were on the right track so many times, that X did not like to say anything more about it. But when I explained the coiy-se I meant to adopt, she instantly seized upon its salient mathematical points, and showed me what lines she meant to follow in her Sisyphus-like search after the tnecratable factor, which, when found, would, If properly applied, m&Ke ciear to us whence we came and whither we go—that "open sesame” before whose magic sound the womb of unfathomed time would give up its secrets, and the mystery of the grave be made clear to the wondering eyes of all mankind. CHAPTER V. juj. wisi£n two or three months after we had started on this new course, I received a . letter from a lady, a dis tant cousin of my own, whom I had known slightly many years before, asking me to Ho her a service. Not withstanding what they considered my Insane deviation from the beaten paths that lead or may lead to wealth and social success, my relatives still occa sionally wrote to me when they thought I could be of any use to them. In this case the lady, whose name was Mrs. Hide-Thompson, had an only son aged twenty-eight, who was already in pos session of verly large estates and a con siderable- fortune in personality. His name was, or rather is, Joseph; and as he was an only child, in the event of whose death all the landed property would pass to some distant Thompson without the Hide, his existence was more valuable in the eyes of a discern ing world than that of mo3t Josephs. Joseph, it appeared from his moth er’s letter, had fallen into a very bad state of health. He had, it seemed, been a "little wild,” and she was there fore very anxious about him. The lo cal doctor, for Joseph lived in the prov inces when he was not living in town, in the stronger sense of the word, stat ed that he would do well to put him self under regular medical care for a month or so. Would I take him in? The expense would of course be met. She knew that I kept up a warm inter est in my relations, and was so very clever, although unfortunately I had abandoned active practice. Then fol lowed a couple of sides of note-paper full of the symptoms of the young man's disorders, which did not seem to me to be of a grave nature. I threw this letter across the table to Fanny without making any remark, and she read it attentively through. "Well,” she said, "what are you going to do?” "Do,” I answered, peevishly; "see the people further first! I have got other things to attend to.” “I think you are wrong,” she an swered, in an indifferent voico; “this young man is your relation, and very rich. I know that he has at least eight thousand a year, and one should always do a good turn to people with so much, money. Also, what he would pay would be very useful to us. I as sure you, that I hardly know how to make both ends meet, and there is twenty-seven pounds to pay the Frenchman who collected those returns for you in the Paris hospitals; he has written twice for the money.” I reflected. What she said about the twenty-seven pounds was quite true—, I certainly did not know where to look for it. There was a spare room in the house, and probably the young gen tleman was inoffensive. If he was not, he could go. “Very well," I said, “he can com.e if he likes; but I warn you, you will have to amuse him! I shall attend to his treatment, and there will be an end of it.” She looked up quickly. “It i3 not much in my line, unless he cares for mathematics,” she answered. “I have seen five men under fifty here, during the last five years—exactly one a year. However, I will try.” A week after this conversation, Mr. Joseph Hide-Thompson arrived, care fully swaddled in costly furs. He was a miserable little specimen of humani ty—thin, freckled, weak-eyed, and with straight, sandy hair. But I soon found out that he was sharp—sharp as a fer ret. On his arrival, just before dinner, I had some talk with him about his ailments. As I had expected, he had nothing serious the matter with him. and was only suffering from Indulgence in a mode of life to which hi3 feeble constitution was not adapted. “There is no need for you to come to stay here, you know,” I said. “All you want is to lead* a quiet life, and avoid wine and late hours. If you do that, you will soon get well." “And if I don’t, Gosden, what then?” he answered, in his thin, high-pitched voice. “Hang it.all! You talk as though it were nothing; but it is no joke to a fellow to have to give up pleasures at my age.” “If you don’t you will die sooner or later—that’s all.” His face fell considerably at this statement. “Die!” he said. “Die! How brutally you talk! And yet you just said that there was nothing much the matter with me; though I tell'you, I do feel ill, dreadfully ill! Sometimes I am so bad, especially In the mornings, that I could almost cry. What shall I do to cure myself?” “I will tell you. Get married, drink nothing but claret, and get to bed every night at ten.” “Get married!" he gasped. “Oh! But it s an awful thing to do, it ties a fel low up so! Besides, I don’t know who to marry." At this moment our conversation was broken off by Fanny’s entrance. She was dressed in an evening gown, with a red flower In her dark, shining hair, and looked what she was, a most strik ing and imposing woman. Her beauty is of the Imperial order, and lies more in her presence, and If I may use the word about a woman, her atmosphere, than her features, and I saw with a smile that It quite overcame mv little patient, ibo stammered and stuttered, and held out his wrong band when 1 introduced him. It turned out after ward that he had been under the im pression that Miss Denelly was an el derly housekeeper. At dinner, howev er, he recovered his equilibrium and began to chatter away about all sorts of things, with a sort of low cleverness which was rather amusing, though I confess that being old-fashioned, I could not keep pace with it. Fanny, however, entered into his talk in a manner which astonished me. I had no Idea that her mind was so versatile, or that she knew anything about bil liards and horse-racing, or even French novels. At ten o’clock I told. Mr. Joseph he had better begin his cure by going to bed, and this he did reluctantly- enough. When he had gone, I asked Fanny what she thought of him! “Think of him!” she answered, look ing up, for ehe was plunged in one of her reveries. “Oh! I think that he is a mixture between a fox and a fool, and the ugliest little man I ever saw!" I laughed at this complimentary summary, and we 3et to work. After the first evening I neither saw nor heard much of Mr. Joseph, except at mealB. Fanny looked after him, and when she was at work he amused him self by sitting in an arm-chair and reading French novels in a translation, for preference. ' Once he asked permis sion to come in and see us work, and after about half an hour of it he went, saying it was awfully clever, but “all rot, you know,” and that he had much better devote our talents to making books'on the Derby.' “Idiot!” remarked Fanny, in a tone of withering contempt, when the door bad closed on him; and that was the only opinion I heard her express with reference to him till the catastrophe came. One morning, when Joseph had been with us about a fortnight, having been at werk very late on the previous night, and feeling tired and not too well, I did not come down to breakfast till ten o'clock. Usually, we breakfasted at half-past eight. To my surprise, I found that the ten was not made, and that Fanny had apparently not yet had her breakfast. This wes a most unu sual occurrence, and while I wa3 still wondering what it could mean, she came into the room with her bonnet and cloak on. “Why, my dear Fanny!” I Eaid, “where on earth have you been?" “To church,” she answered, coolly, with a dark little smile. “What have you been doing there?” I asked, again. “Getting married,” was the reply. I gasped for breath, and the room seemed to swim round me. “Surely, you are joking,” I said, faintly. “Oh! not at all. Here is my wed ding ring,” and she held up her hand; “I am Mrs. Hide-Thompson!” “What!” I almost shrieked. “Do you mean to tell -me that you have married that little wretch? Why, he has only been in the house ten days.” “Sixteen days," she corrected, “and X have been engaged to him for ten. and weary work it has been, I can tell | you, Geoffrey!” “Then I suppose you are going away?” I jerked out. “And how about our work, and—John?” I saw a spasm of pain pass over her face at the mention of the boy’s name; for I believe that she loved the poor cripple child, if she ever did really love anything. (TO BE CONTINUED.) The Ladle* of Constantinople. It was amusing to see negresses with the thickest of lips veiled. All the pretty laces were more or less painted and the eyelids and eyebrows penciled. The quality of the paint showed the quality of the lady. Poor women daub themselves with horrid pigments. No Turkish gentleman goes out to walk with his wife; to do so would be count ed in the highest degree absurd. At most she is followed by a slave. But wrapped up in the ugly black silk ferld je, she' can go where she pleases and alone. No man would dream of look ing at a veiled lady in a ferldje. Were a Glacour to scan her face he would run a risk of being massacred. Shopping is a feminine pastime; another is holding receptions, which, of course, only ladles attend. Munching sweetmeats renders Constantinople belles grossly fat, while still young, and rather spoils their teeth. All over the east teeth are even, white, and of medium size, and mouths well shaped. They are mouths made for laughter, gourmandizing and sen sual love. Eastern women are far bet ter looking in youth than western. Those of Stnmboul are the least grace ful. They are seldom neat above the ankles. Their stockings are not well drawn up, their shoes are a world too big and their gait is heavy and shuf fling.—London Truth. Great Mental Feats. Hortenaius, the great Roman lawyer and orator, had a memory of extraordi nary scope and tenacity. After com posing a speech or oration he could re peat it, word for word, exactly as he had prepared it. On one occasion he went to an auction, where the busi ness was carried on during an entire day, and at evening, for a wager, he wrote down a list of the articles that had been sold and the prices, together with the names of the purchasers, in the order in which the purchases had been made._ Almost a Hint. Snaggs—A $10 bill cannot by any possibility be called a compliment, can it, Spiffine. SplfHns—I don’t know that I follow you, Snaggs. Snaggs—Well, I beard that you paid Miss Northside a j compliment yesterday, and I was in hopes you might regard in the same light the $10 I lent you three months ago.—Pittsburg Chronicle. TWO HAPPY MEN. 1 PROTECTIVE TAR! F F I PASSED!! &E THE SUGAR SCHEDULE DEMOCRATS MAKE ASSAULTS ON THE REPUBLICANS. A Little Investigation Proves the Falsity of the Their Claim and ■hem the Action of the Bepublleaae Decidedly Unfriendly to the Trust. (Washington Letter.) The screamB of the Democratic mem bers of the house and senate upon the subject of the advance in price of sugar stock when the tariff bill emerged from the conference committee and the ac tion of the committee on the sugar schedule became known, and the fact that sugar trust stock did actually ad vance by great jumps warrants a pre sentation of the facts, a study of which will show that the Democrats as usual have been shouting themselves hoarse over nothing. The bill gives to the farmers the protection on wool and other farm products which they had asked, the house rates on first and second class wools being restored and a highly sat isfactory rate to the wool sections of the mountain states being adopted. Now as to the sugar schedule: It was generally conceded when the bill passed the house that it was not in any way advantageous to the trust but that on the contrary it took away from the trust much of the advantage which it had under the Wilson law. Stripped of all technicalities the cold facts are that as the bill left the house the rates on refined sugar were 12% cents per hundred pounds greater than the rates on raw sugar. Of course the rates on different grades of raw sugar were dif ferent but taking the number of pounds of any grade which were required to make a hundred pounds of refined sugar it was found that the rates were on an average of 12% cents per hun dred pounds less than those on refined sugar. This means that the sugar re finers of the country, whether in the trust or out of it, were allowed a dif ference of 12% cents per hundred pounds or % of a cent a pound differ ence between raw sugar when imported or refined sugar when Imported, thus giving them an opportunity to Import raw sugar at % of a cent a pound less than the rates at which refined sugar can be imported. It is generally con ceded that the cost of refining sugar is not less than about % of a cent a pound so that the rates really given to the sugar refiners are simply the bare difference between refined and un refined sugars of the cost of refining. It is well known that the rates adopted by the senate were more advantageous to the sugar refiners but It is a fact that the rates agreed upon by the con ferees made precisely the same differ ence between raw and refined sugars that the house bill made when it was passed by that body. The conference report did increase the rates on re fined sugar slightly but it also in creased the rates on raw sugar, thus making the difference In the rate of duty between raw and refined, or the “differential” as It is called, precisely what the house bill made it originally, 12% cents per hundred pounds, or % of a cent a pound. But, says the ob jector, If the conference report gave to the sugar trust no advantage why was it that sugar trust stock advanced during the time that the bill was in consideration by the conferees and after it was presented to the publjc? The answer to this is simple enough. The sugar trust, knowing that the new bill would certainly advance the rate of duty on sugars as a protection to American producers, has been bringing into the country as rapidly as possible, sugar in enormous quantities, getting it in, of course, under the comparative ly low rates of the Wilson law. They have scoured the world for sugar and had in stock by the time the confer ence report was presented to the public, over 700 thousand tons of raw sugar, or, in round numbers,' 1,500,000,000 pounds. Think of it! Enough sugar to load seventy thousand cars, or to load three thousand, five hundred freight trains of twenty cars each, or to make one continuous train over fifty miles in length. On every pound of this sugar which they had in stock it was perfectly apparent that they would make whatever profit there was be tween the tariff rates of the Wilson law and the increased tariff rates named by the Dingley law or an aggregate profit calculated at 12 million dollars. Is it surprising that sugar stock went up in view of the fact that this organ ization would make upon the sugar which it had brought into the country, 12 million dollars by the mere advance ,whlch' the framers of this bill have found it necessary to make In tariff rates in order to protect the Bugar pro ducers of the United States and bring a revenue to the government? But, the objector will say, everybody famil iar with this subject knew that the sugar trust had all this sugar in stock, and since this fact was well known this does not account > for the sudden rise in sugar trust stock which followed the announcement of the agreement of the conference committee. This is true, but the explanation of the sudden advance, which was caused by the profit thus assured to the sufar trust through the enormous stock on hand is found in the fact that Secretary Oage had recommended to congress the placing of an Internal revenue tax of one cent per pound on all unrefined sugar in the United States when the new tariff law should go into effect, the object being to compel the trust to pay to the government a tax of one cent per pound on all this 1.500,000,000 pounds of sugar which it had accumu lated waiting the advance which it could make by the new tariff. Had Secretary Gage’s recommendation been accepted by the conferees and by con gress it would have compelled the trust to pay in internal revenue taxes prob ably 15 million dollars upon the sugar which it had piled up in its warehouses. The conferees and congress, however, did not adopt Secretary Gage's recom mendation for reasons which they looked upon as entirely sufficient and the moment this fact became known, first that the sugar trust would make this large profit by reason of the In creased duty on sugar and second, that it would not be compelled to pay out any of that profit In the proposed in ternal revenue tax upon its sugar stock, those who calculated the profits which It would make during the coming year on this enormous mass of sugar which it holds saw readily that the profits would be great and the dividends large. The result was the advance In sugar trust stock about which there was so much talk and denunciation. This ad vance was not due to any permanent advantage which the new tariff bill gives the trust over the old law but on the contrary the difference be tween raw and refined sugars under the new bill Is, as already Indicated 12H cents per hundred while under the Wilson law It is 22*4 cents per hun-' dred pounds, thus making it apparent at once that the permanent “differen tial” or difference in tariff rates which the sugar refiners get under the new law Is far less than that under the Wil son law, while this Iobb to the trust Is offset by the mere temporary ad vantage in the advance in prices which they are able to make upon the enorm ous accumulation of sugar which they have on hand. GEORGE WILLIAMS. Dead. 4>