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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 26, 1897)
4. t 1:1 If-! I i ? i ft I!? III i I ! ill f V Is ?4 , 'jtt k . , . . - . .-T CHAPTER XXVI. "Lyndhurst, 4th July. Phiiip Dutton (o Mis Egremont. Found. Waterloo, 8:13." "I knew he jvould." said Nuttie. with a strange quietness, but as she tried to read it to her father her voice choked, md she had to hand it to Annaple. But or the first time in her life she went np aad voluntarily kissed her father's fore head. And perhaps it was for the first time in his life that the exclamation broke from him. "Thank God I" Perhaps it was well that the telegram had not come earlier in the day. for Mr. Egremont was very restless, showing him self much shaken in nerves and spirits before the time for driving to the station, which he greatly antedated. Nuttie could hardly keep him in the carriage, and in deed had to persuade him to return thith er, when he had once sprang out on the arrival of a wrong train. And after all, when the train did come, bis blue spectacles were directed to the row of doors at the other end, and Nuttie was anxiously frying to save him from be ing jostled, when a voice said, "Here!" and dose beside them stood Mr. Dutton. miS& a little boy by his side who looked up. in her face and said "Sister!" It was said in a dreamy, almost puzzled way, not with the ecstatic joy Nuttie had fig mod to herself; and there was something passive in the mode of his hearing his father's "My boy, my boy!" Instinctive ly all turned to the harbor of the carriage: Mr Dutton lifted Alwyn in. and as Nut tie received him, a pang shot across her, a she felt bow light, how bony, the little (raine had become in these three weeks. ' ''Come in! Come back with us! Tell as all!",imid Mr. Kgrernont. asMr.'Dut tou was a bunt to help him in. "My dog." said Mr. Dutton, while Al wyn looked up trom nestling in Nuttie's lap to. say, "Mither Duftou come! And Motbu!" Js have room for him," said Mr. Eg remont graciously. "Here, poor fellow." "He has the rigbt." said Mr. Dutton, "for he was the real finder." And Monsieur, curly and shiny, occu pied with great dignity the back seat be side his master, while Alwyn. in a silent but dreamy consent, as if he only half nnderstood where he was, rested against o.s sister's bosom with bis bands in bis father's. "Come, old chap," said his father cheer ily, "tell us all about it." But Alwyn only shuddered a little, rais ed his eyelids slightly, and gave a puny, faint smile. "I think he must be very tired." said Mr. Dutton "There was a good deal to be done to make him presentable this morning, i'ou must forgive me for sacri ficing his i nrls. there was nothing else to be done with them." ' "Ah," and Nuttie looked again. The boy was in a new. rather coarse, ready made sailor suit that hung loosely upon his little limbs, his hair was short, and he was very pale, the delicate rosy flush quite gone, and with it the round outline of the soft cheek: and there were purple marks under the languid eyes. She bent down and kissed him. miyin: "Was Mr. Dutton nurse to ymi. Wynnie?" He smiled again and trvrmured: "Mr. Dutton made on hoy ntra'" " After a (TVKtlnn nnd answer or two as to main facts of place and time of the discovery. Mr. Dutton to!d his story. "I did not effect much with my inquiries af ter the circuses. All I beard of were of too superior an order for kidnaping prac tices. However, I thought the only way would be to haunt fairs and races, und look at their camp followers. At a place in Hertfordshire I saw a performance ad vertised with several children as fairies, so I went to see it. I strolled out with my dog round the lield where the vans and booths were getting into order. There was What I thought a little girl in a faded red petticoat sitting on the steps at the bottom of a eilow van. with ber head on her h::ndfi." "That was me," said Alwyn, lighting up. "And Mothn came and kissed Fan!" "Yes," said Mr. Dutton: "I verily be lieve we might have missed one another, bnt Monsieur ran np to him. and as ( was actually whistling him off I heard a little voice say: 'Mothn! Motlm! pnd saw tbey were well, embracing one nnother, and then came 'Mithter Dutton, Mithter Dutton, oh. take me home!'" Alwyn seemed to find it too mnch trou ble to talk, and only gave little smiles, more like his mother than himself. He rlung quite desperately to his sister, and laid his head down, as one weary, with the exhanstion of content: and nurse, who had allowed that Mr. Dutton bad, con sidering nil things, done much for the out ward restoration of the daintiness of her recovered child, was impatient to give him the hot bath and night's rest that was to lrinn back the bright, joyous Alwyn. Ho Nuttie only lingered for those evening prayers she had yearned after so sorely. When she held his mother' picture to him to be kissed, he raised his eye to her and laid: "Will she come to nie at night nowT "Who, my darlingr "She, mother dear." "Here her picture, dear boy." "Jfot only the picture the came oat of ft, when I Tled. up on the nasty-smelling buadle in tbe van all In the dark." , , "Mle ranie? , , "Yea. "lie came, and made It so ojce, nd h listed me. , I wasn't afraid to go to ' bv-hjr when she came. And she sang. Ulster, can't yon sin like that?" be was mtirti moved and owe-strieVott I teem word of her little brother; but he had to dree in haate for dinner, l iaten ' teg the wfcUe to her maid's rejoinder and &pcct'zm of the wretehea who bad r"-r-1 ..! r ' tA- - ij--itgtmam4m .f- t'rt'tr'". She went toward him with winged steps in her white dress: "Oh, Mr. Dutton, we have not said half enough to you, but we never, never can." He gave a curious, trembling half smile, as she held out her hands to him, and said: "Tbe joy is great in itself," speaking in a very low voice. "Oh! I am so glad that yon did it," cried Ursula, "It would not have been half so sweet to owe it to any one else." "Miss Egremont, do you know what you are saying?" he exclaimed. "Don't call me Miss Egremont! You never used to. Why should you?" "I have not dared " he began. "Dared! Don't you know you always were our own Mr. Dutton best, wisest friend of all, and now more than ever?" "Stay," he said. "I cannot allow you in your fervor to say such things to me, un aware of the strength of feeling you are stirring within me." "You! you! Mr. Dutton!" cried Nuttie. with a moment's recoil. "You don't mean that you care for me." "I know it is preposterous " he be gan. "Preposterous! Yes, that you should care one bit for silly, foolish, naughty, self-willed me. OS. Mr. Dutton, you can't mean it!" "Indeed, I would have kept silence, and not disturbed you with my presumption, if " "Hush!" she cried. "Why, it makes me so glad and proud. I don't know what to do. I didn't think anybody was good enough for you unless it was dear, dear mother and that it should be me." "It is true," he said gravely, "my young er days were spent in a vain dream of that angel, then when all that was ended, 1 thought such things were not for me; but the old feeling was wakened, it seems to me in greater force than ever, though I meant to hare kept it in eonmd " "Oh, I am so glad you didn't! It seems as if the world swam round with wonder and happiness," and she held his hand as if to steady herself, starting, however, as Anna pie opened the door, saying, "We've been sending telegrams with the good news." Then an arch light came into her bright eyes, but the others were behind her, and she said no more. CHAPTER XXVII. "Come up aud see. him," said Nuttie, as the dining room door was shut "I must feast my eyes on hiin." Annaple replied by throwing an arm round her and looking into her eyes, kiss ing her on each cheek, and then, as they reached the landing in the summer twi light, waltzing round and round that nar row space with her, "You ridiculous person!" said Nuttie. "Do you mean that you saw?" "Of course I did; I've seen ever so long " "Nonsense! That's impossible " "Impossible to owls and Imts perhaps, but to nothing else not to see that there was one sole and single hero in the world to you, and that to him there was one single being in the world; and that being the case " "But, Annaple, yon can't guess what he has always been to me." "Oh! don't I know? a sort of Arch bishop of Canterbury. So much the more reason, my dear. I don't know when I've been so glad in my life than that your good times should be coming." "They are come in knowing this! It is only too wonderful," said Nuttie, as they stood together among the plants In the little conservatory on the way upstairs. "I always thought it insulting to him when they teased me about him." "They did, did they?" , "My father, incited by poor (Jregorio. Oh, Annaple! don't let anyone guess till we know bow my father will take it. What is it, Ellen?" as tbe nursery maid appeared on the stairs. "If yon please, ma'am. Mrs. Poole would lie glad if you are coming up to the nur sery." , They lmrh hastened i-p and n::iMe cm out to ti.eet tn-'m in the day nursery, mak ing u sign to Ellen lo t.ike iu-r place by the cot, and withholding the two ladies. She made them come'as far, off as possi ble, and then said that she was not at all satisfied with Master Alwyn. There had Won the same drowsiness and disin clination to spenk, and when she had un dressed and washud him he had seemed tender all over, and cried out and moaned as if her touch hurt him. i A doctor was hastily sent for, and af ter an examination the doctor gravely de clared that the child had probably been kicked in the side by his brutal abductors and was seriflnsly, perhaps fatally, in jured. An eminent specialist was sum moned from Loudon, but, as the days passed, it became apparent that they could not keep him. It did not last long; there were a couple of piteous days of restless pain and distress, and then came the more fatal lull and absence of suffering, a drow siness in which the little fellow sank gradually away, lying with a etrange calm beauty on his face, and smiling feeblr when he now and then lifted his eyes to rest them on sister or nurse. 1 Little Alwyn was laid to rest beside his mother in a beautiful summer noontide. His father was not In a afnte to attend the funeral aud was left under the care of Annaple, his own choice among those who offered to stay and minister to him. If was his owu wish that his daughter shond be to the last with her little broth er, lie had even said to h-r that she had been a good sister, and hi hor had been very fond of her, and be would not keep bar awa tm any aeoonnt And, wit a nan'a preference for a ? aad kiodhxwwmaa, he cbot Ao to to trta hit nOm taaa Mr. - " n t for 4 . nouse. unknown and unclaimed, or among the wretches who had caused h.'j ' nth. So Nuttie had the comfort of Mr. Jut tou's going down with her, as well as Mark, and poor broken-down nurse, but not a word referring to the confession of that happy evening had iassed between them during the mournful fortnight which bad elapsed. They had not been alone together for more than a second since the evening of Alwyn's return, and tbre was a great shyness between them, which lasted till the first station was passed without any irruption of newcomers. Nothing had been said but a few consents on the ar rangements and the attendants, but prob ably both were trying to !egin to speak, and at last it was Ursula who crossed over so that her face could be seen, and said in an odd tone: "Mr. Dutton " "Yes,' aud he turned, instantly on the alert. "Did you mean it what 1 thought you meant that evening?" "Can you doubt it?" he said, earnestly. "But even then I wns surprised into the avowal, and I would have held it back if possible, if I had guessed what was going to happen." "Ah! but then 1 should not have had that drop of comfort through it all," and she laid hold of his hand, which returned the pressure strongly, but he sedulously guarded both words and tone as he said: "Listen, Ursula, before you speak again. How dear you must always be to me I cannot tell you. but when I then spoke it was with the sense that, on every account, I should meet with strong oppositipn from your father and family. And now your position is altered, so that the unsuita bility is d-'''d. I am not a young man, rememb' my thoughts must lie f'r yon abo . I want you to consider whether, in the present state of affair, you would not do better to look on what then passed as unsaid, or only as the ebul lition of ratitude toward your old friend. I-t me go abroad, and give you full op portunity for for some fr-sh beginning likely to be fitter for you " "Mr. Dutton. how can you say such horrid .hings? As if a dukedom would make any difference." "Yes," he said, turning toward her. "If it is only the old-friend feeling, then it is better dropped, but if your hea.-t is in it. child, then we go on, come what may. It is due to yon." She raisini her face toward him now. and he gave a grave kiss to her forehead. She drew a long breath, and said after a little pause. "And now I have something to say to you. One does think of such things even in these sad times, and you can help me. I am so glad it is you. be cause I know you will, and be rejoici d to do so. You know when Mark f'vnd i" out first, dear mother and 1 always felt that it was a great My he should not have the estate he had been brought up to expect. I believe dear mother thought it would have been the right thing for me to marry him, but I always did mean to give it back to him. even when I didn't like him. Well, then, you know it all seemed settled otherwise, but now, it is so lucky you siKke to me while that dear little fellow w-as with us, because you will help ine to persuade my father that it is the only satisfactory tiling to do to let it go in the male line to Mark and his Willy." "1 see! I see!" said Mr. Dutton eagerly, "ft would be an infinite relief if it could be carried out." "I beiicve my father would like it," said Nuttie. "lie cares for the name; and now no one prevents it; be is fond of Mark, and still more of Annaple.' And you! Oh! Mr. Dutton. if je will only take it in the right way. I think you will make me able to do what it grieved dear mother never to have brought about for my poor fath er." "My whole self is yours to aid you," be said. "You know of course that I could not ask you to detach yourself from one to whom you are so necessary. If he will permit us, we will watch over him togeth er as doing her work." "Thank you." was all that Nuttie's lips could utter, though her hand said much more. And before they reached London they had arranged something of a plan of ac tion for propitiating Mr. Egremont. and liriniring the future prospects to be avail able so as to save Annaple from being worked to death in the meantime. CHAPTER XXVIII. "Father," said Nuttie, trembling with the effort. "I want you to let Mark take the agency with a view to himself not me. I-rt him be as he Would have been if he had never hunted us up at Mickle thwayte. and put me in Ii'ib place." "Eh!" saw! Mr. Egremont. "It is not entailed worse- luck; if it had been, I should not have been bound to dance at tendance at the heels of such an old sin ner as she general." "No, but it ought to go to the male heir, and keep in the old name. Think there have been Egremonts at Bridgefield for four hundred years'" "Very pretty talk, but how will it be vi:h T'.i..'. ii'..j.? We j.h;)!l l.iie l'jlie, !id I don't know how many more, coming after the scent of Bridgefield now," he said with a heavy sigh, ending with a bit ter, "Hang them ail!" "And welcome," said Nuttie, answering the thought rather than the words. "Fath er, I wanted to tell you " "You don't mean that any one has been after you at such a time as this!" he cried. "It was before I mean it was the even ing when we were nil so glad, before we began to be afraid." "The umbrella man! By Jove!" "And now," went on Nuttie, in spite of the explosion, "he would hardly have ven tured to go on with it bnt for this I mean," as her father gave a little laugh of hia unpleasant sort, "he said It would lie tfie greatest possible relief, and make It all rigM for the property to go to the male heir." "You think so, do you? See how it will fie when I come to talk to hitnl A shrewd fellow like that who got out of the Mick lethwayte concern just in time. Catch him giving up a place like (hat, though he may humbug you." "Then you will see blm, father?" "If you turn him iu on me I can't help it. Hlfiw me! I.'iiibrclliis everywhere!" "Mr. Dutton would not take me from you. We wouej LotJi try nil we-could to make you comfortable." "Convert the old reprobate? la that hia dodger . "Don't, father," for tte aueering tone returned, : "Come nor" ba added. In a much more farherly manner, for her voice bad struek him. "Too don't mean Hut a well-looking jrAol tta r U oobU ksv tor pick of ar r ' j f i r-" 7 tc'y t old retired umbrella V. J, he might be yout . .'lat fa thy." "He has been getting younger ever since I knew him," said Nutt.e. "Will. He plays as good a game of whist as any man in England," muttered Mr. Egremont. having his daughter iu actiul doubt whether he meant this as a rei-oinuieudation or us exprt ssiug a dis trust of him. Mr. Dutton had his interview as soon a! Mr. Egremont had rested after his drive, and the result was satisfactory. No dubt much was due to the Egremont indolence and want of energy, which al ways preferred to let things take their course. And now that t Jregorio was no longer present to a,mnse. and take all trouble off his hands, Mr. Egremont could hardly have borne to part with his daugh ter; and, despite of umbrellas ami relig ion, va not sorry to have a perfectly trustworthy son-in-law in the house, able to play at cards with him, manage hU household, and obviate all trouble about suitors for the heiress. Moreover, his better feelings were stirred by gratitude on his poor little sou's account, and he knew very well that a more brilliant match for his daughter would not have secured for bis old age the care and at tention he could rely upon here. He was obliged liki wise to believe iu the disin terestedness, which disclaimed ail desire for the estate, as involving cares and du-ti-s for which there bad been no training; a.id he was ii"lua!!y glad to keep the prop erty in the direct line. The old liking for Mark, and sense of the hardship of his exclusion, revived, strengthened now by regard for Annaple; together with the present relief from care obtained by mak ing him manager of the estate. When once brought to a point. Mr. Egremont was always sudden and impetuous, chiefly for the sxke of having it over and being unmolesiil and at rest again. So that very evening, while Nuttie only ventured on sharing with Annaple the glad tidings that Mr. Dutton was accepted, and in hit marvelous goodness, undertook to makr his home with her father. Mark was al most stunned by the news, confirmed to him by Mr. Dutton. as well as his uncle that he was to be acknowledged ns heir of Bridcidield Egremont, and in the mean time menage the estate with an income snitsble to an eldest son. Presently he came up-ituirs by himself, and beckoned to Nuttie, rather to tin alarm rf his wife. "Ursula." he said, and took both hands, "I cannot have you do this het for nie." "Can't you. Mark? You can't prevent it. you see. And don't you know iV J the beginning of aii my happiness '!" "But, indeed, I cannot feel it right. 1: is a strained sense of justice. Cuuie ai:d tell her so, Nannie." "What ?" said Annaple. c. ming forward. They both paused a moment; then Nut tie said: " inly that the estate ought to go in tlif male line." "Oh, is that ail?" said Annaple, "I wa afraid Mr. Egremont had a fit!" "Ah! Don't you see what it means?" said Mark. "They want it to be as if there were an entail to begin treating nu as an oldest son at once. It is Ursula's doing, putting herself outof the succes sion." "1 always hated being an heiress," said Nuttie. "It would be more dreadful t'hiui ever now. Annaple. do be sensible! Don't you see it is the only right thing to do?" "Billy!" was the one word Annaple said, "Yes, Billy and Jenny and all," said Nuttie, "before you've all died of yout horrid place Oh! you haven't heard that part of it. Of course Mark will have to go down to Bridgefield and look after the place, and live like a gentleman." "Eight hundred a year." murmured Mark, "and the house at the Hom Farm." "Oh, dear!" gasped Annaple, "1 wanted you to be Lord Mayor, and now you'll only be a stupid old country squire. No, no, Nuttie, it's it's it's the sort of thin;; that one only laughs at because otherw is one would have to do the other tiling!" And Khe gripped Nuttie tight around the waist, and laid her head on ber shoulder, shaking with a few little sobs, which might be one thing or the other. "It will save her youth, perhaps her life." whiss-red Mark, lifting NnUie'i hand to his lips for a moment, and fhen vanishing, while Annaple recovered enough to say, "I'm tougher than thnt, sir. But lit.tle Jenny! Oh, Nuttie. I be lieve it has come in tiui". I've knovvi: all along that one si raw more might break the camel's back. We've been very hap py, but I am glad it is over before Mark got worn down before his time." The next thing was for Mr. Dutton and Ursula to keep Mr. Egremont up to the point of making his long-deferred will; nor did they tind this so difficult as they expected, for having once made up bit mind, he wished to have the matter con cluded, and he gave his instructions to Bulfmch the next day. Of course -.Mark hail to give full notice to his employers, but the allowance was to beg'n at once, so that Annaple only went back to the warehouse to pack up, since she was to occupy No. 5. while Mr. Egremont und hii daughter were going under Mr. Dnttoii' escort to the baths in Dauphine, au en tirely new resort, free from the associa tions to be dreaded, for he could not yet bear the sight of little Willy the rivul "Isiy of Egremont." But the will win safelv signed In-fore he went, to the great relief of Nuttie, who, according lo thf experience of fiction, could hardly believe j his life safe till what she called justice! hnd been done. , Mr. Kgremont lived between three and four years, more contented and peaceful than he hud ever been, though frequently suffering, and sometimes giving way tj temper and impatience, But Mr. Dutton understood how to manage on these occa sions, and without giving up his own ex tensive usefulness, could give him sucb care, attention nnd amusement as beguiled his discomfort!, and mado hi daiighter'l task en easier one. How far the sluggish e.ifeebled nature was capable of a touch of better things, or whether his low spirits were repent ance, no one eould Judge. At any rate sneers had ended, and when he was laid beside his wife and boy at Bridgefield, Ursula stood by the grave with a fat more tender and hopeful feeling than she eould have thought possible when he hi u.. - ...., .,M lotino Shi . . .. I 1 t..l .-.I l,l "t.l looaeo np i ner rmsosiiu not ber work done?" (The end.) Than Trnab'e Ban. Mr. What would you do If I abould dla nd Us jou? tfra.-T-LMr m bow mot ? I ml! ten '.V ' .1 mo.iger Y.ki LOSSES IN MODEHN BATTLES- !. than In Taym It-fore the Inven tion of Improved Ordnance, Compare the win tighter iu Nucleoli', ceuipaigns with the worst wlthlu llv it.g memory with (Jettjsburg and An t! tam In the American civil war; with Kouiggratz, lu the Austro-PruKsInn war; with Sednn und Metz, in the Fran-eo-Oerninu war. At Jeiin, iu lH'.i, the Pnissian loss was "1,0 out of a total of Bi.'.UfHI, and the French 19.000 out of a total of iMi.tHHitlrat Is to say, 40, ('00 disunities out of BO.OUO engaged, or, roughly fpciiking, one Iu five. At Kjiuu, in IHiiT. the Russians lost Ho.OoO men out of T.'J.ooo; the French ,'io.uoo out of S.-,0oo that is, for Imth sides, the appalling proportion of one Iu li.ree! At Wagnini, In lsoit, the Aus trian loss was 2.").hio out of lOO.Otsi; the 000 out of the sume liunils-r. At Aspern, where Napoleon nulTereil his first defer. t. 011 May 111 ami 10ll, the caniuge wns still greaar. for the Fruich lot ..,( m mi men out of To.Oihm-oi.e-luilf their number und the Aus tninis -'il.fioft out of SO.ooo. But even thlf, awful butchery pales before that of Borodino, In the Moscow campaign, for on that field the FreiiHi left Od.ooi) dead (Hid wounded out of 1o2,0hi en gaged, and the Uussinns iri.ooO out of the wime liumbiT Ori.ocn mcu slain or 111 tit Hated out of UU-t.ooo. Now, the only liattlo In the latter half of the nineteenth century which can comimre with Borodino Iu slaugh ter is that of Koniggratz, or Sudowa, in 1St;(i, which ended the Austrn-Prns-jdan war. Out of JfstyNU) men engaged, 50,000 were killed or wounded 4o,MK) Austrhuis ami lO.(MK) Prussia lis-one in eight only, as against one in three. Tbe most Kiiiixuiiiury buttle in the American civil was that of Antletam Creek, fought between McCiellau and Leo on Sept. 17, lst'.2, when, after re peated repulses, the Federals compell ed the Confederates to retnut. Out of psl.iKrt) men engaged. '';. 4H! were left on lhe Held the Federal loss being 12, J'i'J and that of the Confederates 14, 000; ami that, remember, wiim Is-fore the era of breech loaders. At Gettys burg the combined losses were 4.'i,oo0, but the number of men engaged was nearly double, and the proportion, therefore, was not so great as at An tletam. Take, again, Leipzig ami Waterloo, nnd compare them with Sadowa and Sedan. At Leipzig the French lost 'Kt. 000 men out of ttid.ooo. and the allies 42,0iO out of 2s.,it00 10'',(K:I out of a total of r.ts.ooo more than double the ratio of Sadowa. Then at Waterloo the losses of tire fillies amounted to 22, 070 out of KJ.000, and those of the French to upward of .'10.000 out of 73, 000 In other wordx. one man out of every three that fought that day was either killed or wounded. Now, at Sedan, under the awful crushing fire of tbe German guns, the French lost 30,000 out of I0O.000 before they sur rendered a farsmallcr proportion than at Waterloo while lhe Germans Mated their losses at 3.022 killed and Ti.oo'J wounded out of the 2."0,00O brought lu to action. These facts and figures seem to us to prove conclusively that war Is no longer so murderous as It was. The alteration in tactics and in the 'forma tion of t.rw.ps attacking 1ms counter acted the MiiM-rior precision and range of modern firearms. The nbell, though Its moral effect Is greater, is not so de structive as the round shot, grape and eanlhiter of the old days playing upon troops advancing- lu line or column. The magazine rifle, Incalculably su perior in accuracy and jK'iietrating power to the old Brown Ecsx, Is not ho deadly in Its effect, for, when It fail to kill outright, the, wounds If Inflicts with its tiny projectile are not nearly so ugly ami crippling ns those of the old spherical bullet, which smashed where lhe oilier glances off. Cham bers' Journal, Management of DurncsiU: Animals. There in a very striking likeness be tween the dispositions of our domestic animals and the superior creatures who' own and control them. Indeed, one philosopher calls our dumb friends "our inferior children," and with some show of reason. The clee student of nature will tell you at u glance what sort of a master or caretaker an unimal has had. The friendly and kind spirit makes friend liness and kindness everywhere umong beasts, while ill temper, spite and vl f iottsuess show at once In their reflect ed results upon the Instincts of all in ferior creatures. Th vicious driver approaches h!s horse's head. The animal at once draws back and tries to pull away. This angers the man, und he beats the poor bejt for recoiling; from his hand. Everything; Is susceptible to kind ness, ami the signs and indications of a good heart toward the helpless and dependent are unmistakable. In one farmyard a single word will bring every fowl nod bird to tin mis tress as fast as feet ami wlng- cm carry thorn. 'J hey flutter ami chirp for notice, and the pigeons alight oil her head and hands, and even cllng- io her' clothing. She can pick rJiem up anywhere, ami they rarely draw back from her hands when they are extend ed. Children are not well taug'it un these Hues. They are allowed to annoy and Irritate animals. The dog Is I, .-ought to the house for the ',ib,v's amusement. The child pulls it and pinches It, and If the little thin,; barks or growls It Is punished until It tinder sttnds that Jt must Ix'iir wlt'iouj re sentment or retaliation whatever cru elty or pain the new owner ch-Mse ,t luliict As the child grows older the Idea la kept In mind that the dog Is his property, and soon he acquires and ex hibit the property feeling. "It's mine and I guess I will do as I pie 10 with It," la often the beginning of a career of brutality. Tbe h.umao aocletlea are doing groat tt r-ra b nor fsf a gnat dMl 1 note. There ought to be kindness elul.s for the children of every neigh borhood. There are many person who do not know that horses and other ani mals sometimes die of loneliness and homesickness. Many a beast has drag ged through a long siege of heart-breaking- sorrow, an.! has finally died of a broken heart. We understand far too little of. the suffering's ami fe l.ngs of anlma'-S. Be cause they do mt s-peak our language ill o we cannot comprehend theirs we are wont to think that they have neith er reason nor sense. Who can tell but ;!iHt in the grand economy of nature their intelligence ranks well np with ours, and that their usefulness Is quit as marked In .the estimation of the great Creator of us all as is that of many of those who attach such great Importance to their own sayings and doings? Edward Bellamy's "Equnlity" has al ready gone into u second edition. Arthur T. Quiller-Coueh or, as he Is leter known, "q" it Is said on good authority. Is to finish Itobert Ixuls Ste U'lison's "St. Ives." Self -Cult ure, a Chicago magazine re fembling.tlie Chantauipiau, Is deserv edly attracting Increasing attention as a "magazine of Knowledge," Itolpert Johnstone FInley, manager of the Met 'lure newspaper syndicate, died in New York, aged 29 years, llo wns associate! with Alliort Shaw in I uihliiig up the American edition of tha Itevlew of Reviews. Some titled friends of John O'Hart, of Dublin, have undertaken to collect funds for the support of the Irish au tlor's declining years. John O'Hart has spent his life In compiling" his vol umes 011 "Irish Pedigrees" and "Irish I-anded Gentry When Cromwell Cnnni to Jreland." The report of Julian Hawthorne, who vas sent to India by the Cosmopolitan to Investigate the horrors of the plaguo i'!l famine, Is deservedly the lending feature of that magazine. Mr. Haw thorne makes some sfartllngly sad rev elations ami corrolKjrates them with photographs. Since the subsidence of the "Trilby" craze there has been no fad iok Hint bus sold up Into the hundreds of thou sands merely because "everybody I? leading It." But a glance at the current Bookman's lists of best-selling Issiks riiows "Quo Vadis" at the head of al most every list throughout the country. E. F. Benson, author of "Dodo," "Limitations," and other popular stor ies, has written a novel, entitled "The Vintage," on 11 subject of public Interest in this time, the, Gns-k war of Inde pendence, to begin serial publication In h few weeks. Mr. Benson is familiar with his ground, as he has passed sev eral winters In Greece studying. Albert C. Stevens, editor of Brad si root's and associate editor of the Standard Dictionary, has been engag if during the last tlmv years In the preparations of a "Cyclopedia of Fra ternities," which will go to press some t me this year. This will embrace the so-called secret ami semi-secret socie ties In the country, national and Inter national. Charles Ffreiich, Secretary of the Chicago Press Club, has just brought cut nu Imposing volume that Is sure to lie of interest to all Chicago Irishmen. It Is a "Biographical History of the American Irish lu Chicngo," nnd Is Is--red by th- American Biographical Publishing Company in the Ilowland I'liH-k. The Ixsik Is a flue quarto vol ume of about 'ioo pages, and Is sold by1 Milrttcrlptioii. Its pages naturally eon tuln the lives of many of the brightest ami most forveful characters In tut his tory of Chicago's development. Am i v. iiole, It Is an Imposing record of wOeit A niericnii-Irisli energy ami enterprVe have accomplished In the commercial capital of the West. When the future 1 istoiian of Chicago comes to perform bis task he will find no small sirtion of lis materials In Idographleul volumes Bke'that which Mr. Ffreiich has com piled. Modelled n Fishes. The shapes of fishes Lave often been studied with a view to determining the ls-st shape for Ismts with regard to speed. There are many llshes whose fins, or a part of them, shut down Into gutters, so that when closed and not i' use they make no projection ls-yond the Isxly, but fold down Into these depres sions flush with the surface, ami offer ing no obstruction whatever to the rap Id passage of the Hah through the wa ter when swimming at epeed, driven by. lis tall fin used as a propeller. The slime wllh which every fish Is coated, which Is In various ways essential to: comfort and existence, helps It to slide more easily through the water. In fact,, the fish, studied by men for Ideas in J mode ling. Is not only speedy, but Is, un one might say, always black leaded and ready for racing. , An Omitted Onimrtunitv. "Your friend may Ik. a oet, but he certainly docs not keep up to lhe tliii with his productions." "In what has he failed to be timely!" "He has not written any verses ginning 'At midnight in bis guarded tent the Turk lay dreaming of the hour.' " Pittsburg .Chronicle-Telegraph. The most pronounced type, of bicycle enthusiast la tbe man who would rather tall; itlMtit Ul wheel tbr.o rttlt It It - cd be. - -""'l ! 1 'Vfc, VA-'
