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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-'
