""WA .i
AVFNCFTI AT T AQT-
a World-Wide Chase.
j$fe w"itl get to business at onoe. i Dare
man ready to go to New York and I
Iqaow he will act fair and square and
Vvide with us when the time comes.
jrto the Rooner you got that handwriting.
Dm better. If you have any smartness
all about you you can easily do it,
And. Jre must have the writing to carry
Je thing through." These were the
Tords which Eugene's answer elicited.
Hit listened attentivefy and asked:
I "Well, what do you propose to do?"
(. The first step will have to bo taken
fcy you." said Emerick,, "but I will make
suggestion. Tbe man who is to per
sonate Percy Lovel is an expert pen
man and can easily learn to sign his
uamo like the Englishman, but you
must got tho copy; and tho best means
r know will bo this: you had better
maintain your ploasant relations with
,tlbe Dolarog and tell Arraida that you
mado a great mistake which need not
ever your friendship. You will then
hm speedily reinstated In your former
position with the family. Then somo
afternoon the sooner tho better try
and persuade that fat old Blodger,
whom you say is with them, to take
Armida and bis fat boy to tbe exhibi
tion, or anywhere out of the way, and
you can stay to keep Mrs. Dolaro com
pany. If you do not make an oppor
tunity during that time to got one of
that Englishman's 1 otters you are not
quite as active and smart as I think you
are."
"Yea," repliod Eugene. "That ap
pears to be a feasible plan, and tho
last we can do is to give it a trial."
So they parted on this understanding,
little thinking under what auspice?
their next meeting would tako place.
CHAPTER XX
. When Eugene next called on Arxnida
he did as his father had suggested. He
old her that he had made a great mis
take and asked her permission to re
main on friendly terms so that he might
continue to improve himself under her
tuition and guidance. I
Armida gladly consented and he was
nee more welcomed ,to the Delaro cir
, ole.
He did not again see his father for
Several days, and was thereforo unable
to report, but fortune favored his plans
and one afternoon .when Eugene was
feigning hard study with Armida, Mr.
li lodger came bouncing Into tho room
And announced that he was going to see
the matinee performance at the Wild
West show and invited them all to ao
oompany him. Armida at once accepted
the invitation and so did her mother, but
Xagene made the excuse that his head
ached.
"All the more reason why you should
go," said Blodger. "It will drive your
headache nway. "
Still Eugene would not be persuaded
And Armida put it down tosulkiness.
The excursion was. not to be spoiled,
hou'pvflr, by his refusal. Mrs. Defaro
suggested that he should stay at home
and "keep house," as she playfully
termed it. This was exactly what Eu
geno wanted, and nothing could have
suited him better. So he readily con
sented, and the party went out leaving
him to act as ho pleased.
Mr. Blodger was in his clement. lie
.took the little party through tho Amer
ican Exhibition; pointed out those
things in which he was especially inter
ested, and finally they reachedth Wild
West show and entered a private box
which Mr. Blodger had already en
gaged. The performance, so familiar
to most Americans, commenced. Every
'thing went along pleasantly, and every
body was delighted, nntil the show came
to a close. After It was over the origin
ator of it. lion. Buffalo Bill, held one
f his celebrated receptions, while the
visitors interested themselves In exam
ining the tents of the Indians, thebuck
fng bronchos and all the paraphernalia
6f the Wild West.
At last when every thing had been
een Mr. Blodger and his party turned
to go. As they did so a disturbance sud
denly took place near where they stood
and two men could bo seen struggling
On the ground. Tbe one seemed many
year3 younger than the other and he
was evidently holding on to the older
man with an embrace which he intended
should be lasting. With true English
instinct the crowd gathered around the
two men to see the fight, but when they
noticed the disparity in age they mur
mured: "Shame! Shame!" Still nobody
tried to part them until a burly police
man pushed his way through the crowd
and endeavored to part the combatants.
With the help of a bystander he raised
the struggling men to their feet, but
Still the younger man held on and
would not loosen his hold.
"I will not let him go," he cried.
The people thought him crazy. At
first it seemed to he only a drunken
squabble, but the onlookers soon noticed
that each of the men were well dressi d
and then they knew that something
moro serious than a momentary quarrel
must be the cau.so of tho disturbance.
The younger mm who cried out so loud
ly was fats lied and hot; his cheeks and
neci: v. i vo red as fast 'owing blood
could fcirke tlii.i.i; but the .lder man
was pallid with the sie'kly hue of death.
This v.-as only the commencement of
tho trouble, however. The crowd had a
delectablo treat in store for the in. Mrs.
Delaro was al"- to retreat from the
pot when she heard una iVi-o:;;zea a
voice she knew weJl. She at once
turned and raising her vail looked to
ward whore tho burly policeman stood
holding his two prisoners. There she
beliflJ ;v dght which made her heart
leap for joy. Without a word to her
companions she ran towards the police
man and'clbowing her way through the
crowd grasped the young man's arm
and cried out:
"Percy Lovel! You alive? In Ileav- j
en's name, what is tho matter'.' ' j
Percy turned his eyes towards her and
in the same moment gave the man ho
held a powerful twist which brought
bis face in contact with Mrs.. Delaro' s,
and shouted: "Do you rccojjnizo him?"'
D.'d she? Ah, this was the supremo
moment of - years of anxiety and pent
Op hatred. Throwing her arms back
with a tragio air, six exclaimed la joy
ful accents: "Leon Velasquezl My
husband's murdererl Thank Heaven, we
, meet at last!"
If the words bad been maglo they
could not have had a quicker or stronger
Influence on the policeman. lie was In
stantly awakened to tbe seriousness of
uv VAUVU HUM AM JOM frUJ9 iUAU 4
takes to write it he had manacled the
accused man, and was bearing him off
towards one of the offices, telling Mrs.
Delaro and Percy to follow him.
Mr. Blodger, Armida, and Stephen
Blodger, Jr., had immediately followed
Mrs. Delaro to ascertain what the ex
traordinary movement on her part
meant, and as Mrs. Delaro followed the
41 !.,.! 1 1- I .1 It
policeman, Armida drew near .to her
and excitedly asked: , "Mother, dear,
what dors all this mean?" '
"It means, ray child, that we have
run him to earth at last oh, at last, at
last!"
"Whom do you mean?"
"Ilush child tho man who murdered
your dear, dear father many years ago.
the man whom he trnsted, Leon Val
asquez." Armida had almost forgotten that her
father had been murdered, but this
was no time for explanations, and Ar
mida did not ask for one, but sue did
ask: "Who is that man walking on
the left of the policeman, mother?"
"Percy Lovel, my dear,, whom we
have so long mourned as dead."
Then, without any regard to appear
ances, the impetuous girl rushed after
Percy, and shook his hands with a
heartiness that gave both him and her
mother great pleasure, but which would
"lbos valxsqokzl my iiu8bjtd's uuk
drrkrP
have smothered Eugene's hopes for
ever had he witnessed the deep genu
ineness of her welcome.
A moment later the policeman took
his prisoner into the office, aud Mrs.
Delaro and her party followed. During
all tho time tbe prisoner did not utter
a word. lie was allowed to sit down,
and when once ho raisod his blanched,
terror-stricken face, Armida immedi
ately recognized it
''Mother, that Is Mr. Emerick; there
must be somo mistake."
"No mistake, my child. I know Leon
Velasquez's face too well to ever for
get it."
Meantime, cabs had been ordered, and
the prisoner, accompanied by two
policemen, entered one, while the
others were occupied by the rest of the
party, and they drove away from the im
mense crowd, which had gathered to the
police station. The charge was entered,
and Mrs. Delaro and Percy were in
structed to appear next day and give
their evidence against the prisoner.
The entire pavty then returned to the
hotel together. Mr. Blodger, who was
considerably mystified and wished to
hear the wholo story, decided to ac
company tho party, and of course he
had to take his heavy-weight son along
with him.
When they were once more seated in
one of tho elegant suite of rooms which
Mrs. Delaro occupied, Armida was the
first to speak
"Where is Mr. Bregy? Did he not
say ho would wait until we returned?"
"Probably he felt too unwell to re
main and wont to his hotel," said her
mother, bnt no sooner had she uttered
the words than her maid came into tbe
room crying and sobbing: "Oh. Mrs.
Delaro, they have taken Mr. Bregy to
the police station, and there has bees
terrible trouble here.
"Taken Mr. Bregy to the police sta
tion why what do yon mean?" asked
Mrs. Delaro.
As well as she could, in her excited
state, the girl related how one of the
porters, in passing the door which was
slightly ajar, had seen Mr. Bregy stand
ing over Miss Armida's writing desk
trying to open it. The man watched
him until he had opened It and when
Mr. Bregy had his hat on ready to leave
he rushed in and seized him." The
porter naturally felt justified in placing
bim under arrest as he caught him with
a bundle of Bank of England notes in
his fingers.
"Surely, there must be some horrible
mistake about it all," said Armida.
"Tbero H no mistake at all, miss."
said tne garrulous girl. Tor tney Have
locked him up at the pol-ice station, and
he will be taken before the magistrate
In the morning.
Still Armida could not believe it, and
was determined to go and see Eugene;
but as she could not go alone, she ae- i
cepted Mr. Pledger's offer to accompany
her.
While she was away on this errand
Percy Lovel told Mrs. Delaro bis story, j
from the time he bad left New Y-ork for
South America up to tbe encounter at
the Wild West Show.
"For the past week," he proceeded,
"I have been trying to find you. I have
sought you at most hotels and examined
the register nt the American Exchange,
but could not secure any trace of you.
"This afternoon 1 determined on in
dulging in a little recreation and at
tended the Wild West Show. Just as I
was coming away, the man whom we
were each looking for (though until
recently I bad no positive grounds for
apposing- that Julius Emerick and
Ion Velasquez were identical) crossed
my path, and. as I bad previously
made up my mind that I would capture
him if he ever came within sight of
me, I at onc grasped him. The rest
you know." '
Then thejr feJl to talkiwg of the many
vseless efforts which they bad made to
capture tbe villain. "Now," said Mrs.
Delaro, "that I know that he is safe la
the hands of the law, I feel that I can
Spend the closing days of my life in
.rest and peace. You, Percy," she said,
"have been my true and devoted friend
all through and will not leave me now.
To you we owe every thing, and you are
tbe only friend upon whom we can rely
In future."
"But where is our dear old friend, Mr.
Wilcox?" asked Percy, who listened with
surprise to these words.
j "Do you not know?" 6aid Mrs. Delaro,
; opening ner eyes with astonishment.
'. "No," replied Tercy. "I stayed only
a short time in New York, and the peo
ple at tbe bouse said he bad accompa
nied you."
"Poor, dear old man," said Mrs. Dola
ro, "ho has long been laid to rost in tho
qniet graveyard of his native town In
New England." As she spoke theso
words Percy was silent, and it was many
minutes before ho could control his
voice to speak. When he did his words
came choked and husky "Would to
God that he had lived to see this villain
j brought to justicel So my staunch old
friend is gone from usP . '
More than an hour elapsed before
Armida and Mr. Blodger returned.
When they did return Armida was in
sorrowful mood, and said that she had
seen Eugene. He had admitted burst
ing open tho desk, but insisted that he
did not want tbe money. What ho did
desire ho would not telL
"What shall wo do, mamma?" she
asked. "He must not go to prison.
Think of the disgrace."
"We will consult a lawyer in the
morning and see what we can do about
it," responded her mother.
That night was the happiest Mrs. Del
aro had spent for many a year, and long
and steadily did she talk with Percy
"I AM NOT TOCB HUSBAND AND NEVER
HAYS BEEN."
about all that had transpired during his
long absence, while Leon Velasquez and
his dupe languished in prison.
In due course the accused man was
brought up for an examination. Mrs.
Delaro in a firm voice related the his
tory of the murder and swore to the
identity of the prisoner. So positive
and straightforward did her evidence
seem that it appeared hardly necessary
to call Percy LoveL Still he was placed
in the witness box and gave an account
of his adventure in South America. II o
also told about the final clew of the silver-charm
which had satisfied him as to
the identity of the prisoner, and in a
few moments the presiding magistrate
committed Velasquez to jail to await
the arrival of his extradition papers.
The same day Eugene Bregy was
brought up at another London police
court and, despite the efforts of the law
yer employed to defend him, he was
Bent to jail for a short time.
All this time his anxious mother was
expecting news of him at Nice, where
she at last grew tired of waiting and
came to London. The first place she
went to was the address which Armida
had given, her. While Armida gladly
welcomed the poor woman, it was with
a sorrowful heart that they told her the
story of the last few days. "But Mr.
Emerick is in New York," she said.
"Ho told me he was going there."
"Then he did it to mislead you," said
Armida, "for he Is now in jail awaiting
removal to America to be tried on a
charge of murder."
"What! my husband a murderer?"
cried the poor woman.
"Why, you surely said he was not
your husband?" said Mrs. Delaro.
"But ho is. He told me so, and he has
got all my money," said the now dis
tracted woman.
Mrs. Delaro was immediately struck
with an idea. "Ah, he has deluded you
Into believing it in order to rob you
of your fortune." she said.
"No, no!" cried Mrs. Bregy. "He i$
my husband, my Alphonse, and I must
go and see him."
To pacify the woman a carriage was
procured and she was taken to tbe jail
where Leon Velasquez was confined.
He was brought into the cage to see
r and she at once approached him
"Alpoonse, tney say yon are no my
husband. But it is not true, is it?"
"f am not your husband, and never
have been," be said, in almost indis?
tinct tones.
"Then why did you say you were?"
she said.
"I wanted your money," was the cool
nejoinder. He JfrVw his end was near
and he mercifnTl 3ot ths poor woman's
mind at rest. Bfl she had to bo carried
out of tho room in a swoon.
CHAPTER XXI.
"'Tis not my will that evil be immor
tal' it is well for us that, while on
this earth every thing good and beauti
ful is short-lived, passing speedily away.
evil and wrong are also but a question ;
of time, and .have their end. "All j
things come to him who will wait." 1
I.eon Velasquez's power of evil had .
spread itself over a long and busy life-
time had held full sway from the day J
be had entered his teens until his hair
a as turning gray. With the exception
of the few years when be posed as an
honest merchant, his active mind had
always been bent on eviL He bad .
caused tbe innocent to suffer for the
guilty; had robbed men of the har3- ;
pirnml accumulations of years, and
women of their virtue, Had etr.iuod his
hands In blood natil murder oame as
natural to him as the killing of a bol
lock to a butcher; he had drawn better
natures down to evil and made crime
the study of bis life. But the day of
retribution was, fast closing in upon
bim. Tbe murder of Mario Delaro was
soon to be avenged, and before long he
would realise tbe awful Justioe of the
old Mosaic law "A life foe a life."
And yet how poor a recompease.
Robbed of her life happiness when it
was just beginning to assert Itself, all
that the victim's widow received in re
turn was tbe knowledge thatretrlbution
had finally overtaken the one who had
robbed her of her treasure.
And, compared to Valasquez, what a
fearful price had she paid to socufe re
venge. The best part of her life had
been spent: wasted. In fact. In running
to earth a monstrosity who bad at last
fallen Into ber hands through sheer ac
cident (as tbe greater part of the world
would say), though there are those who
would see In such an accident tbe won
derful machination of an unrelenting
Ruler, who has said: "Vengeance is
mine."
Never until now had Velasquez re
flected on the possible results of the re
pulsive acts of his life. His immunity
from discovery had only tended to
harden his soul and he had ever been
prompted by one Impulse only greed
for wealth which when acquired bad
never brought him any genuine pleas
ure. He had never onoe stopped to
think of the price his victims paid to
satisfy his own Insatiate desires. He
had been absorbed in self and had lived
a life In which none others shared a
part. But now that the hellish conceits
of his debased mind could only spend
themselves on four prison walls, he was
forced to think.
Leon Velasquez, running riot as one
of the most active of the devil's em
mlssarles, had never paused to think of
the exactness with which God's mills
grind all, had never thought It worth
his while to consider that those who es
cape the mills the longest are in the
end ground more quiokly and relent
lessly. He was in the mills now and
the great stones were beginning to re
volve; so closely, so surely increasing
the speed of their revolutions every mo
ment, never to cease grinding nntil the
grist should be fine as the finest powder.
Ills nights grew restless, sleep al
most forsook him, and the little
snatches of napping which he did
sometimes secure were only fitful
slumbers disturbed by horrible dreams
which brought to his mind in turn,
like a moving panorama, the scenes of
his devilish acta. Bold as he had been
through life, he now shuddered under
the shadow of the gallows, and so fear
ful was the mental torture that at times
be wished that the end might be speedy.
When the bolts shot into their sock
ets across his prison door all hope fled,
and he knew full well that he would,
after all these years of liberty, meet the
penalty of his greatest crime. From the
hour of his arrest he had been moody,
and entirely ceased to speak to those
who approached him. He neither ex
pressed a hope of escape nor murmured
at his fate. Somo imagined that the
terrible visions of a just punishment
were perhaps the cause of his silence,
though others avowed that he was only
meditating a bold and ' final plunge for
liberty. Be that as it might, he per
sisted in a morose reticence.
While he lingered in prison Mrs. De
laro and her friends were taking a rest
from the intense excitement at a pretty
little English watering place, trying in
vain to forget for a time the final trage
dy in which they must take an Import
ant part.
Mr. Blodger had been completely out
done by the scenes he had witnessed.
He made a hurried determination to re
turn to America and never again assist
at such exciting performances. He re
ceived so severe a nervous shock that
all the poetry of bis soul was crushed
out, and he was compelled to postpone
for an indefinite period the writing of an
ode to Father Thames, in which he had
avowed his Intention of patting a vast
amount of research, labor and thought.
The world was thus robbed of another
literary gem.
He was true to his word, and a week
after Velasquez's Incarceration Mr.
Blodger's little party of friends accom
panied him to Ens ton station and bade
him-"God speed" on his journey home.
About five weeks later Mrs. Delaro,
Armida and Percy returned to London
to meet tbe American detectives, who
bad arrived with tbe extradition papers.
It required but a short space of time to
perfect the arrangements for Velasquez's
removal to California soil, where the
law required that he should take his
trial for the crime of murder. Lvery- ,
body concerned was anxious to start as
soon as possible, ana it was arranged
that the prisoner should be taken by '
the same steamer a the others, and no '
on mate anv .uemur to true except
Armida. When sne heard the decision
she said: "We must not travel on the
same ship with that man. I am sure
something dreadful will happen he
will be a veritable Jonah."
"What nonsense you talk-, my child.
Such absurd forebodings never eter my
mind." said her mother.,
Here Percy proffered a suggestion. "If
you ladies would prefer sailing on some
other vessel, I will sesure passage for
you. l or my part, i ao not wisn to
leava the prisoner again, until I leave
him it a felon's ffravo. I want to know
all tbe time that he is safe."
"Exactly my feelings In the matter,"
said Mrs. Delaro.
This seemed to settle the question,
for Armida said: "Then, since you are
determined, I suppose 1 must consider
myself overruled."
Consequently; arrangotaenbs were
completed and a few day lat the
party started for Liverpool.
The ship oh which their passage had
been secured was the "Dunrobia Cas
tle." It was an unpopular steamer and
had bfen purposely self-tied to avoid
publicity and gossip on account of tht
prisoner. As they steamfd down the
Mersey and ver tho bar the day was one
of'the most, enjoyable which could have
been wisli-d for. There was a delight
ful brooze blowinx frowi tbe sea. M1 the
temperature was agreeable.
With this kind of weather they were
, favored until they passed the Fastnet
, Point, when a deep log settle on them.
This in turn passed away by the evening
of the next day, and they were once
.more steaming under sunny skies. But
only for about twentj-four hours, at the
end of which time they encountered a
storm and were tosaed about In a violent
manner for days together. Tbe old
steamer which carried them was none
too good a scahoat at the best of times,
but now she acted In a most eooentrio
manner and seemed entirely at the
mercy and will of the waves.
Neither Mrs. Delaro nor Percy had as
yet fel alarmed, but Armida, who was,
in the most favorable weather, only a
poor sailor, experienced terrible torture
and claimed her mother's attention all
the time. What wKh the state of the
weather and tho cries and moans which
rose from the emigrants in tho steerage,
the "Dunrobin Castle" was any thing
but the pleasantest place on the Atlan
tic For days together the raging storm
continued, and it wae not until tho slow
old boat bad been ten days at sea that
the tempest subsided. When It did
there was a worse danger In store for
them. They were On the Newfound
land banks in a fog, so thick that the
officers on the bridge were entirely un
able to see the skip's nose as she
plunged through the heavy swell left
by the storm. The fog-whistle's con-
tinuous roar only added to tho general
confusion which reigned on board, aod
when the responding whistle of a pass
ing steamer was heard It only increased
the dread and apprehension of the pas-
sensrers. After aboot thirty-six hours
of this commotion the people quieted
down and many seemed to have become
as much accustomerl to it as old sea-
dogs with the experienoe of a life-time!
But at daybreak one morning a dull,
heavy thud was felt through the vessel.
and a second later shrieks and cries
rent the air, which would have made
tbe heart of any listener other than an
old sea captain stand still. Then fol
lowed a few moment ot suspense which
was quickly changed to horror when the
engineers ran up n deck shouting:
"The ship is filling. To the boats!"
Then followed the rush of hurrying,
scurrying humanity from tbe steerage,
terror plainly graves on every face,
while over and above the noise and
confusion rang out the resonant tones
pf tbe Captain's voice shouting orders to
the boatswain. The force of habit ap
peared even on that scene of danger as
the sailors shouted: "Yheavo Ho."
while they lowered the life-boats from
their davits. Louder than ail these
sounds and far above the general ex
citement reigning oa the "Dunrobin
Castle" could be beard the shrieking
whistles of the steamer which had
struck her, and which was rounding to.
in order to give all possible assistance
in saving the lives of those on board the
fast sinking boat.
It was not long before the unknown
steamer was almost alongside., and then
commenced the work of transferring
the passengers not an easy matter in
a raging sea. Tbe paaienoo of tbe offi
cers was tried to the utmost. Strong,
rude men would try to push women and
children aside in their wild efforts to be
first to enter the life-boats, only to be
driven back by the ship's officers at the
noses of their revolvers. Occasionally one
more daring than the rest would thrust
a woman aside and try to pass her, but
with a blow from the butt end of his re
volver, the captain would knock him
senseless, with the promise of similar
treatment to the next who should dare
to make the attempt.
All this time tbe ship was rapidly
filling and it became apparent beyond
a peradventure that before many more
minutes tbe "Dunrobin Castle" would
sink forever into tbe depths of the
ocean. It required teveral tripe of the
life-boats to transfer all the passengers,
but this difficult task was finally accom
plished. The last load was being taken
and none but the officers were supposed
to be on board, when suddenly the two
detectives in charge of Velasquez came
rushing np the companion ladder excit
edly exclaiming: "W can not reach the
prisoner! What shall we do?"
"That should have been thought of
sooner," said the Captain. "Follow mer
he shouted. "We will rescue bim if it
is possible."
"Let him go." said ne of the detec
tives. "He'll be bang anyhow." But
the Captain knew that although the
prisoner was accused, be was not yet
found guilty and his brave heart would
not permit h!ra to leave even such a cur
as Velasque to a horrible death with
out an effort to rescue him
Accompanied ly one of the officers
Ohe big-hearted- oornmaader hurried
down the steps on to the cabin deck.
from whence he attempted to descend
to the lower dck on which Valasques
was conOnea. But Brave as tn old
Captue was, there was an obstacle in
;ne way wnicn even am was fxj m
to overcome. Tbe water was up too
high and the reeuers could go no
farther. Already the imprisoned man
must be driven baek to bis bunk near
the top of the room in
confined; the wretched
not pass out now alive
none could reach him.
which he was
prisoner could
and certainly
Doubtless he
was alive just alive his lfTe's span
now to !' ;ne-snrd W moments. Now
he -ould see how relentlessly the mills of
retribution grind so surely so surely
so surely aye. and so quickly, so much
more quickly sometimes than even
those who manipulate the machinery of
the mills can foresee. Ahnont Velasquez
had paid to the uttermost the penalty
of bis crime committed long years be
fore in the sunny Califr.rnian valley
i!mit.f
The ship might g down at any mo
ment now. and unless his weuld-be. res
cuers at once retraced their stps they
might go down with it, e with regrets
the Captain led the way to the deck.
Sorrowfully he took his place in the
life-boat. and. M thn sailor pulled
away, he look-d longmjrly a' the old
ship that Lad i;rrid him through so
many thmian:l of miles of fair nd
stormy weather. Before tl.ey reached
the waiting fctoamor tim "Dunrobin
Pnf1" cT'J on her hi-am -ri(l and
rank in old ocean with a mijrhty rush,- j
taking with her. to a higher tribunal
ltan that et man, Leon Valasqaea.
It was a tragio death. In some sense
It was too grand a death for so mean, a
nan to exchange the Ignominy of the
gallows and the felon's grave la a prison
yard for a burial beneath the rolling
waves of tbe Atlantic coffined in a
noble ship. And yet It was a horrible
end a lonesome, solemn end, for the
man who bad lived In tumult and ex
citement all his days to meet tbe Urtm
Monster and Great Avenger alone with
his torturing memories of the past te
know, while the merciless flood closed
over him. that he died unmourned and
unregrottod.
Perhaps it was a poor satisfaction to
tho widow of Mario Delaro to know that
her husband's murderer, tbe destroyer
of her happiness, was never convicted
of his crime but when Leon Velasques,
one of the meanest villains who ever
trod this earth, went Into the unseen
world to meet his Maker, it surely was
a powerful Illustration of that infallible
truth:
Though the mills of God grind slowly.
Yet they grind exceeding email;
Thoush with patience stands He walth.,
With exactness grinds He alL"
Not long ago a small wedding party
passed down the carpeted steps of a
church in New York City. The princi
pals of that party were a handsome,
sunburnod man of forty years and a
lovoly woman many years younger.
They seemed very h appy they titer very
happy. They were Percy Lovel and hi
wlfo whom we have known so long as
Armida Delaro.
On the same day there left, fronv one
of the poorer French lodging-houses'
aear Leicester Square, London, a funer
al hearse and one mourner's carriage.;
In that hearse lay the body of Emiile
Bregy. and In the oarrlage was a maa
who looked the picture of misery bis
name was Eugene Bregy a living ex
ample of "what might have been."
irTTvruirr s s-jhoul oats.
Hew Uttle Abe Acquired a Kavl4f
of Heading- nd Wrftlae;.
Little Abe was first sent to school when
he was about seven years of age. His
father had never received any "book
learnln'," as education was termed
among such people, and it was wlthvdlf
Acuity that be could write his own
name. One day, about four weeks after
Abe had been sent to school, hie father
asked the teacher: "How's Abe getting
along?" The teacher replied that he
was doing well; he wouldn't ask to have
a better boy. He bad only one lesson
book, an old spelling-book. During the
school hours he was attentive to his
task, and at night he would study over
the lesson he had been engaged upon
during the day; the highest ambition of
bis life at this time was to learn to
read. He believed if he could onlv
read as well as his. mother, who rea
the Bible aloud to tbe family eYZfyd?'
the whole world of knowledge vTx
opened to him, and in this cotTStui'e"
be was about right. As the old Baptist
minister told him one day: "When you
can read, you've got something that no
body can get away from you."
In the Kentucky home there were
but three books in the family the Bi
ble, a catechism and the spelling-book
which Abe Lincoln studied. lie had
not been long in Indiana before he had
read the "Pilgrim's Progress," his
father borrowing It from a friend who
lived twenty miles away. He was very
fond of reading Msop's Fables," a
copy of which came In his way. A
young man taught him to write. As
writing-paper of any kind was very
scarce and expensive, Abe used to prac
tice his writing exercises with bits of "
ebalk or a burnt stick en slabs and
trunks of trees. Sometimes he would ;
trace out his name with a sharp stick
on the bare ground. When finally, he
was able to write letters, he was called
to do tbe correspondence of many of bis
neighbors, for very few grown persons
In that region could write even a sim
ple letter.
As Abe Liuooln grew older he became
a great reader and read all the books he '
could borrow. Once he borrowed of his
6ehool-teacher a Life of Washington.
11 is mother happened to put it on a cer
tain shelf, and. the rain coming through
the roof, the book was badly damaged.
Abe took it back to the school-master
and arranged to purchase it of him, pay
ing for it by three days' hard work in
the corn-field; and he was entirely sat
isfied with the bargain at tht. At tho
age of eighteen his library ccAisisted of
tbe life oT rranklm, Plutarch's Lives,
l'
tbe Bible, tbe enellinr-book. AlueD'i
iraoies, riigrim s Progress, and the
lives of Washington and Henry Clay.
A boy might have a much larger private
library than this, but he could scarcely
find an equal number of books better
calculated to impart wholsome lessons
as to correct living and right thinking.
jeorge J. Manson, in Harper's Young
People.
Mis. . C. I)-n, of Sojth Bend, talked
HO III I'lVi. II.ii.n f !...
Wiwioinry Society, at 3 o'clock tliissf
ternoon, at the residence of Mrs. H. J
Dti i ilit.
Is in- fell on Levi' n-ck yetidy anil
tlif-y both did weep with rore (ittrrJie
'Eseow" E l gunned aim t audibly
when hey gave rouM-nt to appa( from
the commissioners' idt-Cixion.
Charley U"ard&!e met with a painful i
accident 1 ftWi t-k. While rntfinrr ...!')
..... m " '
I 1 . ..(. . . ... ... - 1 .
X
mil- i.w . vr s nut H'iin iiv n rioir
I. -.. i ;.., . i, i i i ...
uiu u't i.iui, tit IUU il'll XIOUI1I1 U-tll I(.
!rrtii-ht the ax (ionn, s'riking hie r-ht
leg. cutMiijj; a s.h wb-.u-, uj u,t b Jo-g
It h ppeneil nt. ihe i nnu; l;e w brou-
, - ... '
uwme ana a aortnr callit to t w
W V
w i
.
cut, asd he is doiug a'cely
Wate- Republic ib.
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