Nebraska Newspapers

    ikMm presto mi&a r Afetirdl
llL as
I HiPItR VI1L- tontmed.
The ngbt was as good a one as need
have been, and tbo.iglJ better bad oc
casionally been known, there witscn
toe present o. -anion, no rail for iuii
plaint, .eiry, in particular, was or
tucaie, and the little gin's spirits
would have risen under the inspiring
influence, if it had produced a Use
edect uon her companion. But al
I'usagh Beliendeu a-siated both in
taking the l.sh oif the hooks, and in
baiting them arain. and although he
was always ready with bis congratu
latory, "Another. Jerry.' ou are
Jucky to-night," she felt that the spirit
was absent, and that the passing scene
had only a lamt, inade suate hold on J
iiis attention, Ilis very smile was j
grave.
But after a while, and that at a move- '
merit of her own, he looked round !
tjuickly. She had shivered as the air ,
grew colder, and a slight breeze had :
tprung up.
You are cold," said Bellenden, at
once laying down bis hand-line, "let
put thu over your shou.ders," and
lie drewaiough, warm, weatherbeaten
plaid around her. "Don't you go and j
caleb cold to-night, and then be ill
after lan gone, little one." ,
"it won't matter if 1 do."
The words escaped under her breath,
but they reached his ear nevertheless,
and he could not but make some re-:
sponae.
'You think your chances of getting ;
cut oh the moor and the loch will de- j
part with me.' Is that It.' Is Cecil no '
good;'" -. I
. 'l shall not care to go witb Cecil."
' You cared to go by yourself before ;
Icaroe." "
bhe was silent It seemed to her j
that she would not care even to go by I
herself any more. j
, But Belienuen's tone grew more and
more so'1-, and gentle, it moved him .
infinite:.1. Jn his present subdued and
penuve came,, to think how much of
ber ai tions this open-hearted, in-;
Eoecat-uinded child had given him in
cue atui t fortnight. It, gratiued his
vanity and something better than h.s
vanity iiis benevoience. Hewasglad
to Una i he had made anyone the bap
.picr, j. rlicuiarly anyone so sweet, and
oaturj,:, and lovable ae Oeraldine. He ,
p it his aim around her, and drew her j
to his side. I
jt"Y oj must not forget me, Jerry," he
said.
She had stopped f.Bhing to,
listen". I
"J may come and see you again tome
'day aiy I not?" . j
a. "Oh, yes."
' ,, A nd you are going to be a good girl,
i.;id jarn a great deal, and have a
jireat ilea' to tell me when I do cornel'
. Lbs! you w. 11 no on witu our coliec
Vior and read up abojt them, and
Lav ' them all in nice o der?" J
t ,Uh, yes. ' ;
"I shall tell you cousins about you
if I come across tnem." I
"bhall you come across them?"
"Very likely 1 may. If l meet Lord
and Lady Haymoiu, I shall ask to see
Ethel anil Alicia, and tell them all
about their little eous n in the north."
"Do you think t iey would care about
me?"
shall make them care about you."
1 41 You wou t say that I am very
very-"
I "Very what?"
I "You know what You know how
you lound me tht I rst fishing day.
But inueci, I am nut o.tun a, t ad as
that, and I am never going to be an
bad again. I have promised granny
tnat I shall not. Aunt Charlotte, and
Ethel, and Alicia would have thought ,
it dreadful. I don't want them to think
me dreadful."
I "I promise that they gha'n't."'
"Well, they won't if you stand up for
me," and Jerry smiled confidingly
round.
, ''Because I am grown up, iBuppose."
"Oh, ves, and a man, and all that.
They would think a great deal of what
you say; and if you say that I am "
Here she stopped.
"oo on. That you are "
"No; I am silly."
"Not silly at all. I want to hear. Go
on, there's a good child. You are quite
safe with me," and his arm pressed
her a little closer.
t "I was only going to say that If you
would say I was rather nice - that Is, if
you could say it." said poor Jerry hum
bly, "they would tell Aunt Charlotte,
he would perhaps believe it, and 1
would please granny. You see
and
that
Aunt Charlotte does not like me very
much now, and that vexes dear gran
ny, who loves me so dreadfully, and I
thought -I tho ght it might just no
one else could do any gooa," she con
cluded. There was something so
truthful ana confiding in the limpid,
childish eyes, and so artless in the
childish confession, that Bellenden
could not smile at it.
"T will certainly do what I ran." hfi '
aid, "and and you were quite right
to tell me all about it, Jerry dear.
JSow, you see, I know what I am about.
.And il a chance offers, why, of course,
I shall embrace it at once." And to
iilmself he added, "Is there any hope
tkitt noe will always remain l.ke this?
AViJl h can he nmnct to be alwavn
ma true and honest Or will she be like
all lae real in a few short years?" and
even the man of the world sighed. For
be UtUe knew, he little dreamed, that
ve then he had not teen to the
depth of the heart he called a child's.
jut before the boat touched the
aaera, ha etooped over Jerry for a mo-
eat.
"Karenrell to looh Marew," he laid.
"farewell to all the kind heerU here.
rareweiL Gerald toe. Good-bye. dew
hlM-say 'Good-bye' tor 1 shall be up
WmmmN
dbwt 1
o yea met am ffet up
Mm
on the shooting days. So say
Good-bye then, wtii.e we iua, aota
on her cold, rosy cheek she suddenly
felt his warm breath, and then the
prcs ure of his lips in a kiss.
Her heart seemed to stand still
the pulses in her throat to choke her.
Cecil, raising- at .he other end of tne
boat, seemed iikea shadow in a dream,
his voice calling to her, an echo from
some far away uistant spot.
Mechanically she roe to obey the
summons, toaehe i the different hards
hold out to guide her, sprang ashore,
and stumbled along over the durk, wet
weeds, blind and deaf to a.l pater
sights and sounds.
The other two were behind, caving
stayed to help up the boat: but she
waited or no one. And she never
spoke to Bellenden again, nor turned
her back to look for him, but hurried
forward along through the dim ma es
Oi the woodland path, and in through
the great porch, and up the broad
t-tairs, straight to her own chamber,
to be seen of no one any more at all
that night.
1 or she was not required to come
down again. There was to be no sup
per, only what the gentlemen cho e to
send lor. w hile a tray ni di patched
to her elf: and so the farewell on the
water was really what it had been
given out to lie, the part.ng between
the two for many and many a day.
It had not been exactly so intended
bv He lenden.
The kiss had been given on the im
pulse of the moment, and there had
been no intention of producing tucn an
effect as he couia tie.ceive had been
wrougnt thereby.
"Is she angry, I won ler?" he had
thought, half amaied. and half cha
grined, but after all su h a thing was
hardly likely. It hai really been
nothing to make anyone angry; it had
been nothing to ttink twi. e alut,
A dear little girl. A sudden parting.
A tender good-bye. Everything prov
ocative and excusable. Jerry could
not have fought any harm. After all,
what is a k'.B at 1,?
Within twenty-four hours that kiss
was in the giver's memory as though
it haI never been.
Lur pg bis rapid ,,ourney south, and
whiie he had perforce mauv long hours
for meditation as the bwiftest express
trains bore him on fro.n one far dis
tant stopping place to another, liellen
den did indeed -having no lomnanioti
to talk to, and nothing to divert hisat
tentlon - bestow a considerable share of
his ruminations uiion bis late POjOurn
in the old Highland castle. It was a
relief to turn to it as a memory when
almost spent with conjectures and cog
itations in the only other direction
which at such a time could command
his attention, and the repose of hia
monotonous lite, ana the charm of its
inter, ourse, at once simple and refined, j
soothed and hushed his gp rit when j
disposed to be chafed and impatient by ,
uncertainty and anxiety as to what
now awaited him.
But once arrived within the land
marks of his home, once assured that
he was, as he had divined he would be,
too late, the necessity for action, the
cessation ot mere passive endurance,
the release irom suspense, even the
presence and voices of others, put an
end at once and altogether to the vis
ions of the i ast. The future must now
be everything.
The new experience began at once:
new. and yet loreseen and anticipated.
There was t e hush, tlu' solemnity,
the mournfulness, the whispers, the
death-like pause of expectancy. The
old butler bowing his white bead,
the uuder.ings subsiding with
profoundest respect into the back
ground, the shadows of the women flit
ting past in the dim distance - all want
ing to look u)on him. unseen them
selves all desirous of seeing him yet
none daring to intrude. Ana then be
had to meet his mother, b'u brothers,
his uncles to interview the steward
an! the coach. nan: to give his sanction
to -pro ected arrangement-.; to hear
what had already Deen done: to write
letters.
It was now twelve hours since the
spirit h d departed, and twelve hours
at sucu timcj sec in long.
Lady Bellenden had so far recovered
from the hrt shock and in pression,
that she had seen her children and
consulted with her maid
The young men had had a furtive
stroll rcund the premises, and peeped
by stealth into the paddocks and ken
nels. The stablemen and boys had
known to keep out of the way and af
fect not to see, as the poor young fel
lows wandered aimlessly about, feeling
they knew not exactly what, wonder
ing what they should do next, and how
much would be considered lawiul under
the circumstances. One and all bad
wearied for the arrival of the elder
brother. To learn from him what
would follow this sudden over. urn ot
all the past, what the new regime was
likeiy to i rove, and how it would af
iect each one of them, was now their
very natural desire. Frederick had
always been a good fellow, and they
hoped the best - hoped he would not
change with his altered circumstances,
an appear.as others have been known
10 do a different man under different
BUBUItCD. 1 ll V " LI yj n no w t
Thus Frederick's ar rival had been
the thing most earnestly desired and
anticipated both above and below
stairs.
It was late ere it took place, but no
one wished to retire to rest first.
For himselt, he was too much con
fused and ex -ited to feel fatigue. He
had been traveling since u o clock that
morning, and he had not slept till long
after midnight the night before; but i
I he nao not cioseo an eye an uay. tveu
presently, even after all calls and
claims on his attention had ceased on
, the part of the household, and one by
one the domestics departed tor the
I night, and the doom had been lo.'ked,
' and silence within and without had
settled down still more deeply than be
fo o upon the house of mourning, even
then the traveler seomed unwilling to
be again alone.
The brothers sat up with him. They
talked together in quiet, subdued tones
ot the old days, the old boyish exploits,
the attaint experiences, oyous or
grievous, of the peat Childish nick
names were recalled; cnnaisn jests
were slipped out; little trifling' tales
rose onoe again to the Up, that but for
such an hour had been burled utterly.
I UV vw mMif rwwewwu we wr www
and all th-a It had b p fuppoM- to b.
, uen mm gone uswa io in ww uhh
room. Fai h went to it that night
happier inan on the previous one
1 heir lathe, was indeed gone ail was
over they were ery orry: but -
rrraericK as au rignt, aoa tneir
hearts were comforted.
jua rreuericK nimsel.? He a so
was now quited down. He knew the
ground w hereon he stood, and might
d sain to oe already almo-t at home
upon it. rromsbeerexhaustionofmina
and body, long and heavy slumber at
kngth visited his wearied frame, and
the sun was high in the he .vens ere
be w as aroused from his pillow on the
follow ing morning.
But with consciousness awoice every
new thought and reflection on the in
stant. A busy day many busy days -lay
before him. He must be up and
doinir: no more lassitude, no more un
certainty: a whole crowd of things to
te looked after, and instructions to be
given, and eoole to be seen awaited
his apiearance. All was solemn ac
tivity, and decorous supervision.
Inchmarew Castle was iike the palest
spectre on its own misty heath, if ever
the tannest recollection ol it flitted
across his memory.
And even that recollection was pres
ently effaced.
New cla nis new resiionsihilities new
hopes and fears, a new arena in life
altogether had to lie entered ujKin.and
with surpris ng rapidity Sir Frederick
Bellenden accommodated himself to
the change.
By -an i-by he gave uph'scomrais-don
in the army, an i settled down at his
country seat. Next came standing for
his division of the county in Parlia
ment, with the excitement of a con
tested election. Then the loss of the
election, and the ronsolations of sport,
hunting in the winter especially.
There wan yatching at Cowes more
over, grou-e and partridge and pheas
ant shooting us autumn came ou again,
and even a run to Scotland and sti,l
never a thought of Geraltiine.
He had not come across the t'aymonds
In the imerim, and some now he had
omitted to look up young Jiaymonl
when in town, as he had meant "to do.
And he had ne er sen, the little huinrss
her present - for he had orgotten
alout it till too late. .Acd. altogether,
th; thought of Inchm lvvf wa- not
(juite so p easant as it hud been at
hrst. aftyr pi conscience tl him ho
had not behaved so handsomely as he
might have done: and again he re
solved to make up for it, ehculd occa
sion offer and again no occasion did
offer; and so things went on for thrc-s
full years, and then -but what hap
pened then calls for a new stage, and
a fresh rising of the curtain.
CHAPTER IX,
THE BUTTEKFLY TAKEB HKK KlR.iT
FLIGHT.
'Id London I tievf t kni w bat I'd be at,
nrapt nred nilb ti U ana ettcnaut' d t b that ;
I'm wild with iba tueft ' of ariety s plan.
And lifo '9nm a tlatutf to j tiapt ir mu.'
All was bustle and Joyful alacrity in
a smart little house in Klav.'air.
It was a Dright, freBh spring morn
ing, and thouiih it was yet very early
in May, the mildness of'the -easOT had
brought on leaf and blosso to such an
extent that the parks, one and all,
showed a bla,e of rhododendron and
aa:ea, glories, and the pink almond
worn out and faded, was shedding itself
in showers on every side. London was
full and busy, and a brilliant season
was prognosticated.
Ans. Lampbell had been lucky in
finding a little house to suit her, and
she had now been in town for more
than a fortnight, during which every
day hail been fully occupied in prepa
rations for the important time now at
hand. For Gerald ine was If, and was
to make her appearance in the world.
As a preliminary, she was of course
to make her courtsey, and kiss tho
hand of our most gracious (,ueen, and
it is on the eventf 1 morning of her so
doing that we catch our next glimpse
of the wild little witch of Inchmarew.
Any greater contrast than this to
our first peep at her un ler the weather-stained
yellow oilskin and sailor
cap cannot well be imagined and the
outer difference does but shadow forth
the still greater one within.
Three years had done its work, and
done it well for Geratdme.
bhe was taller, gentler, milder than
of old she wai lovelier by far she
was no whit less truthiul, honest, and
frank.
The governess had Vx?en a great suc
cess; if a governess had Oeeu searched
for the whole world through to suit
the place, the pupil, and her surround
ings, a better could not have 1 een
found than the quiet, earnest, sympa
thetic and large-hearted woman who
presently found for herself so warm a
corner of the little girl's heart. ery
quickly she had fathomed the depths
and s allows of the soil to 1 e worked,
and had gauged its val. e. There hd
been no rude measures, no hastv re
forms sin h as wo Id have revolted Jer
ry's very soul, but, instead, there had
I een much kindlv appreciation, a fair
meed of praise wnere praise was due,
and. above all, and it was this whi h
had finally won the pupil's entire a ec
tions a candid ignorance on many ton
ics as to which Jerry herself was well
qualified to instruct. To be asked to
teach when she had only expected to
learn! All the generosity and nobility
of the child's nat re haa been aroused
by the supplication, and no cause had
Miss Cor. nna ever had to repent it.
Once begun under such auspices, the
pursuit of knowledge had thriven
apace.
(..eraldine had actually exulted dur
ing the brief, dull, winter days, when
the e had been little to tempt her from
her tasks, in the thought that tho
hours which she had been wont to
while away in inproductlve triviali
ties or dolefulcomplaints had i een now
hardly long enough for all she had had
to do. What with one thing and an
other the weeks had teemed to tly, for
her eager spirit had set no bounds to
Its desires, until even tier uengntou
and almost equally enthusiastic pre
ceptress had demurred. Bhe had
hardly known how to be moderate In
the race.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
A man who can eat buckwheat
cakes and sau-age, and digest them,
need uot worry about death
A woman Is more disagreeable to
tbe man who has told ber be loved
ber than to any other man.
There are so many humiliations lo
life, that a new one Is encountered
nearly e?ery day.
You seldom admire a man you set
great deal or.
A WINTER NIGHT ON THE FARM.
I th-r aught in life we prixe
Like tbe light of home that lie
Over us. when winter hake
From tbe north bia frosty flakea,
When the chill winds at the paue
IWt their icy wings in vaia?
Is there any Jojr on earth
Like to that which nndeth birth
By the fire-light, nug and warm,
Of tbe old home oo tbe farm?
I'ndwturbed and far from town.
Our ambitions narrow down
To a nest of small deairea.
Bounded by tbe eTeniug'a fires;
All the passions of the year
I'as away In laughter here.
Where the aancy kettle ainga
And tbe sturdy back-log fliuga
The defiance of ita glance
To tbe wiuda, aa they advance.
Here the magic pop-corn anapa
Into little anowjr cap
For the chubby handa that ache
In their rapture to partake;
Here the pippins, plump and aleek,
Filed up in the pantry speak,
I'lniii aa any mortal may.
Of the aiiminer iased away.
Bringing buck to nights like these.
Bird-songs and the hum of bees.
Hickory-nuta and walnuts, too,
Break their heart for me ami you.
Yield their very aoula to make
I'leasurea for the children's sate;
And the elder's kindly cup
Offers Ita ken spirit up
On the altar of good cheer,
On this wild night of the year
In this night when love and mirth
Hold their court around the hearth.
Out with all new-fangled toys!
Country girls and country boys.
Blessed with wholesome apix'titea,
Find their measure of delighta
Where the pound-cako'e pyramid
Rises like a mosque timid
Aromatic afreets, that lie
Jelly fringed and paved with pie;
Never Bagdad's splendors bent
Over hoinea of more content.
Keep us ever thus, we cry.
Not too low, and not too high; . v
Teach u to appreciate "
Just the otore of our estate;
Hold in check tbe common greed j
For all things beyond our need;
Measure unto every one
Fair desert of shower and nun.
THE MAJOR'S STORY.
You see, there's no harm In tellln' on
Bill, now that Bill Is dead and gone. As
a professlii' member I feel It almost a
duty. There are people I could name,
profesxlu' members, too, who have coti
sarned themselves with Bill's membry,
and kinder Insinuate that Bill died out
of the fold.
Bill, Bill Coombs, weighed nigh onter
200 an' stood six feet lu his stockln's. I
don't say but that Bill's looks were agin
him, as men go, but some way our
babies never seemed to mind, and Mar
tha argued thr.t there was some good in
a man that babies loved.
Yes. Bill would swear. I don't deny
It He swore right In the presence of
THI ELDII LAID HIS THIS. OLD HAND OS
BILL'S BID HHiW.ir SHOCLOIK3 AS D SAID
a.
Elder Preswlck the day Sumter was
fired on. Deacon Stebblns he sent a
substitute left the grocery, but the
Elder laid his thin, old hand on Bill's
big, brawny shoulder and said. Just as
reverently as the parson ever did In his
big church on the hill, "Amen!" Bill
and the Elder put their names down on
tiie roll, side by side, and we followed,
forty-seven all told.
When we came back from the war
there was a pert young fellow from
Boston In Elder Preswlck's pulpit He
was smart enough, as boys go. My
Martha liked htm, but his high soundlu
religion someway seemed to jar with
the gentle gospel that Elder Preswlck
taught us down there at the front
Maybe we blamed the Ixrd 'cause we
couldn't bring him back with us, an'
only eighteen of us straggled to tbe Cor
ners after Appomattox.
Anyhow, Bill took It harder than any
one else, and after his sister's husband,
Henry Foster, died in his arms before
Petersburg, he swore that there was no
Ood. No, I don't set myself up to Judgo
Bill for what he did during those days.
We laid Bill's sister by tbe side of
Henry Foster, just one year to a day
after we got back, and Elsie went to
live with BilL It would have done your
heart good to have seen Bill plowhi'
and whlstllu' down In the back lot, with
Elsie a-seated up atween L'x big shoul
ders. Every Sunday we called by for Elsie,
and she went to Sunday school with
our Patience, who was just her ago
lackln' nine days. BUI never went In
side the church, yet he slopped swearln'
and used to slick up on Sunday after
Elsie came.
Martha will tell you to this day that
she knew It would come out all right In
the end. Martha Is a shrewd woman,
but she didn't know Bill as I did. There
Isn't much In a man that you don't find
out after four years of niarchlh' ami
flghtln', shoulder to shoulder, and Bill
was stubborn. It was Bill's pig head
ings that saved what was left of us In
the Wilderness.
"Bill," said Cap'n Jim White, "If you
drag that field-piece to tbe top of that
'ere knoll you're a dead man."
"Dead be blanked," answered Bill.
And up he went
After tbe second male was down the
Cap'n said: "Corp. Coombs, I com
mand yon to return to your company."
We aU stood there like ahaen. thus
i that were able to stand. It had been an
all -day's flf ht, and the rebels were only
I waiting for the word to sweep up our
broken divisions like a drop of water.
The field piece might give us another
chance.
"Jim White." said Bill, bla eyes kind
er ahinfa out bright from his powder
blackened face. "I refuse to obey!"
Thai was all he said. Nothln' much
to tell, but it saved us. Jim White an'
all. Bill was Just so stubborn that after
tbe battle he pulled the chevrons off his
arm.
So It nettles me to hear Martha say,
"Didn't I tell you?"
It was summer when Elsie came to
him. which was the sarin' of B11L
He got softer am! softer and tenderer
"OH, DOD. I WAST TO AT A I.ITTL1 PBAT
IK FOB Mr CK( LC BILL "
and tenderer, so that by the time the
fall huskln' was over that little tot with
her big blue eyes could twist blin round
her finger as easy as nothln'.
Father used to Joke Bill, and ask him
If he was tralnlu' for the ministry. If
they had of him let alone, and he could
have forgotten his dog-goned stublxiru
ness, I think he would have gone to
Sunday school off an' on with Elsie,
and that would have shut folks' mouths
after his death.
Along 'bout Christmas I could see Bill
was gettln' uneasy like lu his mind.
Elsie and my Patience did nothln' but
talk 'bout Santa Claus and a saw-dust
doll with a real china head lu V'ncle
Wick's sfore-window at the Corners.
Of course. Hill was w lllln' to give Elslo
a squad of dolls, and I heard him ask
Uncle Wicks myself how much It
would cost to send to Boston for a regu
lar one thnt could talk and roll Its eyes.
Then Bill's danged stubbornness would
rise up and whlsixr, "How could a man
that didn't believe In God celebrate
Cod's birthday r
That's w hat Bill asked me one morn
ing, as be was puttlu' a new pole In his
bobs. I knew Bill was gettln" unset
tled, and that when Elsie got up lu his
lap and whispered In his ear, "I des
Santa Claus Is doln' to bring Uncle Bill
a new pair of wristlet," It was more
than a barrel of words from me.
Martha helped knit those wristlets,
first a green yarn and then a red one.
with a frill of brown at the end. Bill
caught them at It once when Elsie
came over to spend the evenln'. He
rushed out to the barn to look after his
4-year-old, and when he came back he
complained that the saber cut he got at
Lookout Mountain was troublln' him
some.
I ran over to Bill's Christmas night,
to ask Bill and Elsie over to eat pop
corn, hickory nuts, and such like, and
found Bill puttln' Elsie to bed. There
was a hard look lu his face, and I knew
that It was no use askln'.
I stood still for a moment and took
off my muffler to change the wet spot
from my mouth. Elsie didn't notlca,
and knelt down by the side of her crib
In her w bite nighty, and prayed, "Now
I lay me" Just as Jane Foster taught
her. When she got through she stopped
a mlnut, and then added a little one of
her own. I remember it Just ss well a4
though I heard It all over again to
night She knelt down at Bill's knee
and said:
"O Dod, I want to sny n little prayer
for my Uncle Bill. I des he forgets to
pray sometimes. Uncle Is a dood man,
Dod. He loves me, and set the leg of
my little chicken, Bright Now It Is all
well, Dod. Of course you don't know
Uncle BUI, Dod, as well aa Elsie, bo I
want to tell you, so Santa Claus won't
forget him. Dood night"
Then she kissed her Uncle Bill, and
snuggled In between the sheets.
I guess that finished Bill Coomb's
stublxjmness. Martha said the next
day, when Elsie rushed Into the house
with her anus full of presents, that Bill
would spoil the child; but I knew that
could Bill have got over to Boston that
night and back In time, EIbIb would
have had that doll with the rollln' eyes
and talkln' mouth. Bill was always
that way he never did things by
halves.
Bill was ailing all the winter. We
hoped he would pick up In the spring.
Martha used to send him boneset tea,
and twice he had the doctor, but tt
didn't seem to do him much good. He
TELL OOD-TllT TOCS t'KCLS BILL Am T
A SAD 111,"
liked best to sit up by the arch, and
watch Elsie and my little Patience play
"keeplu' bouse," or take Elsie In bis
arms and listen to ber prattle.
He didn't (o to church, but be used
to talk with Martha off and on, an' he
seemed to remember a powerful num
ber of things Elder Preswlck said down
there In Virginia, I never gave BUI
much credit for memory before.
It was 'long durleg the spring plowta
jjllpL
tnat BUI took to bla bed. complaints of
that old saber cut We dldu t Uluk
much of It until one day his hired man,
John, came ruunlu' over just as
doln' the early mllklu', and said Bill
was dyln'. Martha rolled down ber
sleeves and took off 'cross lots.
Bill was asleep when we came It.
we tiptoed to bla room and stood at tbe
foot of the bed. Martha said after
wards that Bill looked almost beautiful
aa he lay tbere. The window was open
and the smell of the apple blossoms ou
the gllly-liower tree that Bill and Jane
planted when they were children came
Into the room and kinder carried me
back to the davs when we were boys to
gether, and Jane and old Pilr?
Coombs were alive. I must have been
dreamin'. for my lids got wet and Mar
tha pulled my arm. Bill had his eyes
'open; he saw us and smiled, and thcu
put out his baud for Elsie.
The morniu' suii kinder come In
through the apple trees and fell u El
sie's yellow hair. He drew Elsie up
closer" mid closer and whispered low,
so the doctor couldn't hear and tell the
folks at the grocery, but Martha and i
heard and I always thoiiaht the doctor
did, leastwise he never says anything
against Bill.
"Jane," he sometimes forgot and
called her June; that was her mother.
Henry Foster's wife that was. "tell
God whut-you-told - him - Christmas
that your uncle Bill ain't -a bad
man "
Then Elsie prayed, while Martha
sobbed softly like In her sunlHinnet and
I looked hard out Into the apple tree.
Bill went right ou smllln', but when
we sixike he never answered.
Elsie crawled up tenderly like ontr
the bed, and kissed the stiiilin' Hi tim
idly, and then turned to Martha and
said, with a frightened, glad light In
her baby eyes. Just as though she un
derstood it all, "Uncle Bill Is with
Dod." Utlca Clot.
a wonderf'uTUght.
It Will Give Illumination of About
'J.W.IMHVMK) Candle l'owi r.
The idea of an electric light which,
fed by a current from a dynamo actu
ated by a forty horse power engine,
and giving ",'' candle power, can
have Its Illuminating power Intensified
3.1,000 times, Is not easy to granp. It
means the projection of a stream of
light of about 2.K),ooo,ooo candle power,
and It Is no wonder that the announce
ment that such a light Is aliout to tie
used In this "ountry has been received
with some Incredulity In Europe. Yet
this Is tbe efficiency of the light which
will be shortly erected at Fire Island
for the Illumination of the adjacent
coast and the protection of the fleet of
ships entering New York harlw. A re
mote suggestion of the power of this
lamp may be arrived at by bearing In
mind that an ordinary oil lamp la about
thirty-eight or forty candle power, and
then trying to Imagine the combined
beam of 3,000,000 lamps. 'r'"-'''-i"-tj -
electric street light may be put down
at 100 candle power, and 250,000 of
these would about represent tbe
strength of the Fire Island light
The most powerful oil lamp yet made
Is supposed to. shine out on a clear
night for a distance of thirty-five or
forty miles, but the new light will flash
Its welcome rays to the Incoming Euro
pean liners when they are 120 miles
away. The light revolves rapidly and
throws out Its beams with the Intensity
of speed of lightning. The motive pow
er which actuates It Is a simple clock- ,
work arrangement contained In a bos
two feet square, and although the re
volving portion of the light weighs fif
teen tons, the mechanism controlling It
Is so delicate that the pressure of two
fingers will turn It The value of this
marvelous lamp can only be determined
by practical working, but It promise to
represent au Immense stride In the sci
ence of const lighthouse illumination.
Philadelphia Press.
Music Transmitted by a Wooden Rod
The following beautiful experiment,
described by Prof. Tyudall, shows bow
music may be transmitted by an ordi
nary wooden rod. In a room two doors
beneath his lecture room there was a
piano, upon which an artist was play
ing, but the audience could not hear It
A rod of deal, with Its lower end rest
ing uion the sounding board of tbe
piano, extended upward through the
two floors. Its upper end being exposed
before the lecture table. But still not
a sound was heard. A violin was then
placed upon the end of the rod, which
was thrown Into resonance by the as
cending thrills, and Instantly the music
of the piano was given out In the lec
ture room. A guitar and harp were
substituted for the violin, and with the
same result The vibrations of the
pin no strings were communicated to
the sounding board; they traversed tbe
long rod, were reproduced by the reson
ant bodies above, the air was carved
Into waves and the whole mualral com
position was delivered to the Ilatenlng
audience.
Home-Made Collars and Blocks. '
The fashionable occupation of the mo
ment among women Is the making of
the velvet collars and stocks that are
Indispensable to every wardrobe
Stocks to match every known hue and'
every combination of hues are a part
of the smart girl's outfit and now that
she has found that velvet ribbon an
swers as well as velvet on the bias that
must be skillfully treated, she
cannot make these dressy ii,Ue coll-r-cites
fast enough. A length of
ribbon, a flash of clasp or buckle a
stitch or two, and there you are. .V" -
An Ancient Veralon of the..ln.
At Lssen, Germany, in the archlrea
of the Munsterklrcbe, a manuaeZ !f
the Psalm, has. . discovered "JJlS
If It belongs, as Is believed, to the mM
die of the ninth ceutury7u thTelSS
Latin version of tbe Ps.lm.ws bat?
It contains nearly all Ui, pJJ
Latin In three columns, whitaE.!
fourth column Is a Oreek text writZU
Latin character TU bSS
seems to be written by the JTST?.
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