CIRl'S BRIVERY.
■Y RUTH HR SKRI.K KUYSKTH.
"For whom did you want the bouse
young lady?"
"For myself, sir."
Dr. Ism Isiigliton stood amased.
The girl bsfoishim was so young—
not more than eighteen, and so pretty
—goldendiaired and bine eyed as an
angel. He had never dreamed that
•he was making the application to
rent Thistle Collage herself. But
Miss Caroline Clarke took no notice
of hie surprise.
,-The house is In good order, sir."
"It requirss a few repairs, only,”
said ths young physician, rather stiff
ly.
He iiad begun to tiling be was throw
ing his time away.
"And those you will make?"
"If I let the collage— yes."
The young lady mused a moment.
"I think I will like ft,” she said
then.
"I beg your pardon. Miss Clarks—?"
"Yes."
"Do you quite understand ths sit
eatioo?”
"I think I do. Tlis house M thought
to be haunted, and the rent ie merely
nominal to anyone who will lire
there."
"Yee. But— How are you eituated
In regard to family, my dear young
lady?”
"I have the care of two younger
brothers—twelve and fourieeu years
old. I have only a limited income,
which I eke out by embroidery. 1 am
, . *...*• ...._a _a al .
•nxioiliv III/ Ml VUIWIW VMV Vi KIIW
city and there is a good academy
here. 1 am not afraid of ghosts,’’ j
with a faint smile, "We shall corns.”
Her words and manner were not at
Variance with tier delicate beauty— ;
all wae so petite and yet so self-pos
sessed and diuni lied. J>r, Leighton'S
•spcrience In girls did not st em to J
serve him at all in this emergency. He i
recollected that his ststeis, Maud and |
Bess, always regarde/l the outer walls
Of niUtle Cottage with an apprehen- ;
sivega/e, and could not he persuaded
to paw it alone after dark, and In-re
was this girl, no older than they, pro
loosing lo live there, with two children!
"You have no parent#?”
"No,”
“lielative#?”
"None to rely upon, I depend on
myself entirely. J)r freight on; I am
used lo it. Would you Ilk# to let me
have Thistle Cottage?” with a steady
glance Into the young man’# counts
pang#.
"J hesitate only on your account,”
bs hastened to say. “It Is no fable
that a man was killed there. He was
murdered by a son of unsound mind,
after a quarrel about money. The
■state wae owned by my fattier, it u
now mine. It long ago fell into ill
repute on account of the murder, but
It is a very pretty place and bee been
kept in repair. 1 will walk over it
with you again and make any changes
you may find desirable,” thus tacitly
consent mg to the young lady’s pro
posal.
What tier words failed to do, her
clear blue eyes had succeeded in ac
complishing. They had won the con
fidence of the owner of the cottage.
“She can hut try since she wishes,” j
be sah] to himself. “I am close by
at our house. If she gets frightened
out she can come to ue.”
When they had gone over the house
again, the girl asked, quite coolly:
"What became of the murderer?”
"He fled Irom justice—is probably
dead. He has never been heard from,
and bis ghost ie said to haunt this
•pot. If you can prove that it does
not. 1 will give you live years rent
here tree.
'Die young girl made no reply, only
•rolled brightly.
"What a hrave little creature!"
thought Dr. Leighton.
A week later Caroline Clarke and
ber brother* were nettled at the This
tle Cottaue.
Dr. Iwighton did not fancy the
boy*. He told hi* mother that they
were "whelp* that wanted licking in- ‘
to shape." Hut when he *aw the gen
tleneew and tact u*ed by their ei*ter
in managing them, when he *aw her
patience, her charmin; nmile in en
couragement of their simplest well
doing, he wa* ashamed of hi* intoler
ance.
• My father," she hesitated, "did i
not set his hoy* a very good example.
They were much away Irom home be
fore he died They will do much bet-I
ter here away from harmiul aesocia
tions," she said.
"That * a good girl—a rare good
girl. I we," eaid old Mrs. Iwighton. "1
only wish Maud and Hens had half as
much character."
Hut Cara, as the boys called her,
did not trouble her neighbors. Kite
was an exuuisite honsi-keeper, she had
a piano- an old on# hut of mellow
tons; she did much work with crewels
and liossss. In the evening she as
aisled her brother* with tlieir studies.
They were fond ot her under their ,
roughness and sslrksiiness. They
■hoveled snow, when it cams, took
car* of the poultry—shs encouraged
them in their ambition forpriischick
sn* and kept in wood and
watsr There wa* not a
brighter lull* horn* in tbs
village Cara bad tluishml the ronm*
herself with inetty erItalic touches. |
On the |i*!e out! paler ol the sitting
room she ha* painted, here and tbsre,
a bunch of red Itergondy toe**. Hire .
had gilded the mruices ami bung Ire |
tors a doorway a crimson curtain I
A* fur guests When |*u|il« i liter led
her. sirs simply answered "No, I
have uni •**« any."
Hut ismhan* dr* air of the mount- I
•In village did nut agree with Cara
(lark*, fur she grew pata *h# was
always swvsl, hut sometmt** sir# tia-l
• tails wearied air. Dr, Iwighton
naked her if she dtd nut work too
hard. "I* not liiat," *ha answer**!
lie w»»rydar*d« iMuetlmes, with a secret |
disquiet, if she had not somewhere a
sweetheart who did not write to her.
But Cara kept her own counsel.
The fall and winter wore away with
out any revelation to him of what
troubled her. Jack and Willie, the
boys, were jubilant over the pros
pect of a vegetable garden with peas,
potatoes and squashes of their own
taising. But their sieter looked eo ill
that the younz phyeician felt called
upon to expostulate
“Cara," he said, "I want to epeak
to you. You muet have a change or
y(M die." . , ,
•0, no. I shall not she replied, in
crddaiounly.
•Tfc»ur countenance tivee token of
unmistakable exhaustion. You are
doing too much labor or you have
some trouble. Cara, why do you not
confide in me? Do you not believe I
am your friend?"
"Ob, yes. It is nothing, only 1 do
not sleep very well.”
“Why?"
She made no reply, and seeing that
Ills inslstunce distressed her. he ceas
ed to urge her confidence at that time,
though more certain than ever that
she had a painful secret. He was sat
isfied that she had no organic disease;
and her mind seemed to have no mor
bid tendency- But the colorless cheek,
the hollow temples, the air of languor,
betrayed that something daily and
hourly espped the young girl’*
strength.
One morning, Willie, the younger
boy, rapped at his office door.
“Homething's the matter with my
sister." tie said. "We can’t wake her
up. Won’t you come over?"
Dr. I.eighton found Cara in a stupor
end delirious, with every symptom of
brain fever. He loet no time in get
ting assistance. Mrs. Hodgdon, the
village nurse, was at Cara's bedside
when she awoke.
II. I All lta/1 illut laff t Via WAAffn
and wan in the next apartment. He
ilid not go in immediately, though he
heard the girl talking.
“Ain I mo very Mick?" ehe anked.
“No, d<ar. You woe feverish and
your mind wandered a little, and I
wo* out of a place and told Dr. laugh
ton 1 could Mtay with you a day or
two u>* well aa not for my hoard. I
iiain’t forgotten the jacket* a» Willi#
outgrew tiiat you aent to my Bobbie;
and 1 had feeling for a young girl with
no mother'* hand in the hour o’
need."
"Oh," moaned theyoung girl. "I'm
not aick, I'm worn out! Oh, thia
Ireadful home! I have not slept
•oumlly all winter."
“Why, dearie?”
“Oh, Mr*. Ifudgdon. there ia aome
liody in tin* house beaide ouraelvea.
Beeide me arid the boya, I mean.
Homebody creep* about and 1 am al
way* hatefling tor tiiat atep. It ia
killing me1 Oh, don't tell anyone! I
lid not mean to tell you, but I am «o
weak. Don’t, don't nay a word to
Dr. Iieighton. J muat bear it, becaun*
it* all the borne we have, and tiie boy*
never had aucli a pretty, nice home
before, and they are doing ao well,
and are no good. 1 waa not afraid at
lirat. I am not afraid now, only for
them. There may be aome evil about,
though nothing ban ever harmed u*.
But a* aoon a* J fall asleep I atart up
and listen.”
Cara wan begging the old woman not
to betray her confidence, when Dr,
Iieighton came into tiie rooni.
“You muat tell me the whole atory,
Cara!" lie aaid. "You ntia.il not lone
anything by it," he added.
But Cara broke out, crying, in her
w -akueMH giving way to tier emotion*,
and for a time the tumult would have
it* way. Bhe waa brought to liaten to
reanon at laat.
“It waa two month* after we came
here," *iie naid, “that I first heard
those creeping, creeping step*. I tried
to think it wan tin* tree*, or the wind,
or the cat, hut I heard them wtien
there waa no wind at all, and the cat
was dhioep on mu loot oi iny nun, aim
the things were moved from their
places about t he house, and lately f
nave miMeed food. That'* Mince I
would not allow myself to believe that
a spirit haunted the place. I have
searched every spot and nook in this
house. There i* only the space above
the scuttle in the root, and tnere are
no stairs.”
"Oh, I)r. Leighton!” groaned Mrs.
liodgdon, “then, of course, it’s
spirits."
"Nonsense.”
Dr. lmighton contented himself with
preHcribing for the sick and over
wearied girl, and after a tew days of
care arranged a drive for her in his
new buggy, with tier brother Jack as
attendant.
“You are to lake a nice long drive,
and not be back under two hours,”
he said, smiling.
The kindness and care surrounding
Cara was new and very pleasant to
her. As the wheels rolled away from
the door In the brightness of tiie
spring day. her trouble fell away
from her like a nightmare, and the
color cams back to the nrettv cheeg.
Five minutes after her depailure
from Thistle Cottage two men were
in the house with Dr. Is-ighton. They
went rapidly through it, la-ginning with
the cellar. Every wall was tried, with
the idea of discovering any unknown
space or passage. Nothing unknown
was developed. At length a short
laddsr was brought, and tlis men a«
I glided I O I lie attu
It was only a hollow spars beneath
ills csnter of the root, ipute unlighted.
Hut enough light penetrated the place
to show an unkempt figure rising Irom
Us liar ot straw ami rags In ons cor
ner
"What's this’ Ars you altsr itisT"
hs said, la hollow tones
The men sil-ntly gate,lull this object
with astonishment, repulsion and
pity, It was a man, but so thick tin
mask of dirt and grim, so ragged tin
I ward and hair, groiestpie tin* cost unit
of tattsra from which fell feathers and
straw, It scanned some unknown c i« a
lure instead of a Ini ni.c.i I- ng
'loeai lisaisns' it is aimon island!"
r»ie»t Dr Is'igliUlu,
rtiis ouly added to the innslerna
lion of the o>tier men for Minton
tadancl was the half era «d lacy ado
murdered tils la)list at Tlostis Collage
tics yvars i-dt-ie Hut waul am!
noaery had given him the appearamw
of an old man.
“I don’t care what you do with
roe!” cried the hollow voice. “Only
give me something to eat.”
“Come with us and you shall have
all you want," said Dr. [jeighton, not
unkindly.
••Where? Down there, where the
fire and the light and the girl is?” nak
ed the wretched being, and when they
nodded, he caught up a rough ladder
of rope, quickly adjusted it and swung
himself down before them. But he
was so weak he staggered, and they
were obliged to help him down the
stairs to the kitchen, where Mrs. Hodg
don, shaking with excitement and
consternation, placed food upon the
table from which he snatched it, with
out any pretence of eating from a
plate,devouring it like a half-famished
animal. When he had filled himself,
he would have laid down on the
floor and gone to sleep, but that the
unaccustomed plenty sickened him.
and he began to groan and roll about.
In a sfiort time, the sheriff, who had
been sent for, arrived, and he was
taken away. No one believed that
the poor, underwitted, half-dying
creature was a fit subject for punish
ment, but the county jail was a clean
and comfortable refuge for him in his
destitution. Here he remained until
consigned to the almshouse. No re
liable account af bis career could be
obtained from him, but It is probable
that he had sought refuge at Thistle
Cottage in its desertion, and existed
miserably there a great while before
discovered. He had prowled about
at night searching for food, of which
hs founds scanty supply,stealing from
corn bins, pigs and poultry, and rob
bing hen rooits, eating the flesh of the
fowls raw. It was the occasional dis
covery of his miserable figure whioh
had called into existence the story of
the place being haunted by Ids ghost.
But so reduce*! bad tie become he
would probably have died in his lair
but for Dr. Ijeighton’e discovery of
Dim,
Dr. I-elghton kindly saved Car*from
witnessing so much misery. 8h# nev
er saw Himon I-eland. Her nerve*
had already borne much, and that
the had been willing still to *u(Ter in
secret for the sake of preserving a
good home for tier youngorothers was
a fact which became known and en
deared tier to many hearts. Her
friends multiplied, and, when she ac
cepted as a lile companion, Dr. l-eigh
ton, the oldest friend of all, hearty
kindness surrounded her and warm
wishers for her happiness danced
merrily at the wedding.
it >m -♦ mm
PAYINC ATTENTIONS.”
The Evils of Premature Coeelp
About Love Affaire.
Harper’s IJaznr.
As it is obviously a young man’sdu
ty to pay attentions to some young
woman, considering that this is really
the chiel motive of social intercourse,
it is rather hard upon him that he no
sooner begins to fulfill his mission, and
calls, and drives, and dances more or
less boldly with one damsel, than all
the match-making women to whojn a
love affair, anybody's love affair, is
precious and entertaining, interchange
ideas upon the subject and report
that young Crayon is in love with
Mies Coupon; and although he may
never have thought of love in relation
to Miss Coupon, and although he may
possibly iiave drifted into a genuine
affection sooner or later if nobody had
meddled—since proximity is adanger
ous factor, and brings about more
marriages than match-making—the
premature report has a very damag
ing effect; he begins to see that unless
lie Is serious in paying attentions he is
compromising not only niniself, but
the young woman, and keeping other
suitors at a distance; and although
lie may not know whether he has any
positive designs or no, and his emo
tions may be in a state of evolution,
| it 11*1 lit) limy iiui< rutiiciy mihj'-i manu
hm own designs, yet tie is put upon
tiis guard, tlm cordial relation between
the two cools, and he earns the name
cf being a heartless tnller, or is forced
into a hasty declaration before he is
ready to make it. Naturally the look
er-on savs that he ought to know his
own mind; that he has no business to
devote himself to a woman whom he
does not love, lint love is not an in
stantaneous alfair, like being struck
by lightning; it is a growth. And how
prithee, is a young man to know
whether he loves or not if he may not
live more or less m the companion
ship of that, "not impossible she?"
if he may not have opportunity to
observe and study her? To be sure
Miss Coupon may object to being
made a slim y of,to being placed under
the microscope, and then by-and by
turned aside as an in|>erfect specimen.
Hut she has the same privilege herself,
and would be sailly shocked if
any one supposed that she would
accept a lover without some knowl
edge of his qualifications. One might
nnk if she, on her stile, had serious
and matured design-, wheiiehe answer
4«l Ills notes, accepted his invitations,
ins bouquets and confectionery, if ehe
were not also attsmpling to discover
il he were her ideal. We do not dis
pute the iact that there are man who
nirt maliciously, so t„ speak—who do
out mean to fall in love -who have
themselves well in hand; hut they
j need not be confounded with thoes
! who are simply trying to discover
their In-route.
M«Mf« u W, II*U*fvom l.tMitft
j Mihvm Wall *a t U««. L II fttttatar, §1
I Ilia lluiMM !!!•
mm lb* mI* hHuUv ImH!« lit up
) 4«* bill* I** |»#tit u|« Kiv ft «Mut'
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tilf |i»ak blU '*M U btl l bn* fir, I v»f ' mIM'M %
A b # iftMiltiil ftl y •»! M »«i>ii
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U.UKIm. p.H bil* iUK .M 'tb n.
IfUHl lb* NHM ‘4 III* I
j MtftldNk »*• »>•* I Mil M**' -4mm
SUNSET COX ON FISH.
An Acre of Water Equal to an Aore
of Lano-One of the Marvels of
the Tlme-The Puritan Platform.
[From the speech of Mr 8. 8. Cox, of New
York, on the bill to establish the office
ol Commissioner of Kish and Fisheries,
end pay him » enlnry of $f»,<)00.]
This business of propagating our
food fishes is well appreciated by the
l>eople all over our country. 8ince
Professor Baird began this work there
lias been sent out by tank, cans, and
otherwise throughout the land, from
Texas to Maine and from the Colum
bia River to the 8t, John's, 100,000,
000 of young fish or spawn for the
promulgation of this food.
The report of Professor Goode
(House Miscellaneous Document No.
80) to the present Congress shows the
cost during the last fiscal year of the
production, transportation, and dis
tribution of tiiese 100,000,000 from
their sixteen hatching and rearing
stations. Tiie propagation expenses
were $180,000; tiie cost of fishponds
and distribution was $15,000, .»nd
the same sum for vessels engaged in
the service. There are existing other
appliances for the founding of tills ex
tensive and humane object, which I
will not now dwell upon.
The time lias almost, mine, prophe
sied by Professor Huxley, when an
acre of water will produce almost as
much food lor the support of human
life as an acre of land.
The science of fish propagation is
one of the marvels of our times. It is
one of tiie miracles of physical cul
ture. We have understood, appreciat
ed, and encouraged by law tills won
derful multiplication of food fishes.
If I am permitted to refer modestly
to my travels, I will say that when I
was coasting around Norway a scien
list miormeii me—pointing out over
the Arctic ocean, which we were in
specting—that there had been theyear
before a shoal of codfish near the
JjOfToden island* a mile in superficial
extent, containing I 50,000,000 coil,
anil that these codfish had fed on
420,000,000 herring. There is no limit
tothe wonderful infinitude of these fin
ny creatures of the deep.
Professor Haird saw with generous
vision this result of natural law. Al
though i believe the invention or dis
covery of this remark i ble fecundity
and mode of proportion in fish
was made at an earlier date tiian
1871, still he utilized it. To be fust
in this connection, I may remark that
before professor Haird undertook this
service Ur. Gariick, an Ohio man, die
covered the process. His ie not a
happy name, but bis discovery was
felicity itself to millions. Is it not a
curious fact that Ohio always seems
to be a little ahead of other Htates in
certain affairs—political or otherwise?
[Imghler.l Excuse my seeming for
wardness in speaking of Ohio pro
ducts, for I was born there myself.
[ Laughter. J
Nevertheless, Mr. Hpeaker, there
never was an interest in this country
so cared for by the government as
this of fish. Our lirst efforts, at least
In New England, began with fish.
When our ancestors—1 refer to New
England, where I was educated—
when our ancestors went to King
James for a charier to go across the
seas and colonize Massachusetts, the
King asked the Puritans:-—
"What is your object* What do
you intend?"
Their answer was: “To worship God
and catch fish!" (Laughter.]
Then the King rejoined: "I give you
the charter. Fore Gad! it is tiie apos
tle's own calling!” [Renewed laugh
ter. I
Wny, sir, even in the early churches
of New England the early and pious
Puritans used to sing:—
Ye monster* of the bubbling deep,
Your Maker's name upraise;
Up from the eamis yo codlingspeep,
And wag your tail* always.
(Laughter and applause.]
So that in early New England the
i.ure and care of lish was concomitant
with commerce, liberty, and sanctity.
In later times New England lias ob
tained Congressional enactments giv
ing free salt for her fish, while the mis
erable man in Chicago can not get free
salt for ins pork. [Laughter.] Con
gress has always had a kindly word
at... l.V. Itiunir fluourtou
it gave bounties at »o much pur coil.
These fishermen have not become
less tenacious of their rights since the
bounty ceased. They are a power in
numbers and influence. They number
a million or more of men constantly
engaged in their hardy and hazardous
occupation. Their calling is associat
ed at the present time with some curi
ous wriggling in diplomacy. [Laugh
ter. | Hut wherever they are and
wherever they should adventure, they
t should he cared for by til fostering
arm oi the government. 'Die main
object of this hill is not to assist the
fishermen so much as tits consumers
of fish. It would send out the seed
broadcast, that tood liar vests may
grow in all the waters ol this laud. I
trust there will tie nothing done here
to impair the usefulness of this bureau.
I trust,as this bill takes no money out
of the treasury, that no further
objection will be made to its
passage; that the president may
tie abls to selet t a good prac
tn-al man of sctencs and energy,
whether heb« Democrat or not, to oc
cupy and honor the position. I am
not sure but that ihere may tie found
Milne good scientific Itcino rat in the
country to administer this office.
il-anglder ; V I ■ - >• CCS . annul
•e luuuoiMiltted by the H< publican
party. There may be a I Wm or rat
disco vet d with the ipiahiiis of a
good scientific lislierman The Dreai
dent himself le somewhat of an e«|tert
in that line, lies tighter. | At ailments,
let ns by Ibis enactment euabts him
to select the right MW for the |a»l
Don. Mo tar as I am individually
... ned I am not over eager
whether lie select* a Itemocral or a
Keotihltcan ln«arryuot the human
ami lantern cut pro, isiiina propose.!
hy this blit retail ted by my honored
fr*en i from Vikansa* iMt Ihrimj, to
•hoto | tender mv think* lor the
Itrii tlege ol tlicse desultory remark*
Applet!** I
|
TERRIBLE VENCEANCE.
A Jaaloua Husband Has the Hand
of Hie Wife Cut Off and Sent to
Her Lover.
From a London Kxchnnge.
At the restoration cf Louis Phil
lippe to the French throne many
of Napoleon's soldiers were left in
comparative poverty. One of them,a
famous general,had a beautiful daugli
ter whom lie wished to marry rich,
but who fell in love wit li a poor young
man—an under secretary or some
thing of that kind. Hhe married, at
tier father’s request,, a rich count, hut
refused at the wedding ceremony to
allow the ring to be placed upon her
eft hand,upon which she wore a ruby
put there by her lover. Her jealous
husband was not loiw in finding out
what was the rust ter,ami intercepting
a letter in which the anient young
lover claimed Matilda’s hand as his,
he determined upon an awlul revenge.
One night ae the celebrated surgeon,
Llafranc, was returning from a
professional visit, he wa« captured by
a party of men, blindfolded and tak
en to a distant palace, and Isd
through a labyrinth oi pa-ages and
rooms. At last he found hinisslt in a
small chamber furnished with remark
able luxury,and half-lit by an alabas
ter lamp hung from the ceiling.
The windows were hermetically sealed
ns well as the curtains of an alcove at
tiie end of the room.
"Doctor,” said the man with whom
he now found himself alone, in an ab
rupt, loud voiie, "proper# for your
work—an amputation.”
"Where is tiie patient?” asked the
doctor, turning toward the alcove.
The curtains mo veil slightly, ami he
heard a stifled sigh.
"Prepare, sir," said the man, con
vulsively.
"But, sir, I must see the patient.”
■•jou win sec omy me ilium you au
to cut oft."
The doctor, folding Iiis arms and
looking firmly at the other said;
"Hir, you brought me hern by force.
Jf you m-eil my professional assistance
1 shall do my duty without caring lor
or troubling myself about your sec* ■
rets, but if you wisli to commit a
crime you cannot force me to be your
accomplice."
"He content, sir," replied the other; j
"there is no crime u: this," and lead- j
ing him to t he alcov< lie drew from the
curtain a hand. "It is this you are
to cut off."
The doctor took the hand in his;
hie lingers trembled at tiie touch, ft
was a lady’s hand—small, beautifully
modeled, and its pure white set ott by
a magnificent ruby encircled with
diamonds.
"But." cried the doctor, "there is |
no need of amputation; there is—"
“And I, sir! I say," thundered the 1
other, "if you refuse I will do it my
self," and, seizing a hatchet, lie drew
the hand toward a small table and
seemed about to strike. The doctor \
arrested his arm. “J)o your duty, |
then doctor.”
“0, but tins is an atrocious act,"
said the surgeon.
“What is that to you? It must be
done. I wish it; madam wishes it al
so. K necessary she will demand it
In-rself. Come, madam; request the 1
doctor to do you this service."
The doctor, nonplussed and almost i
tainting under the torture of his feel
ings, heard from the alcove ill a half
expiring voice and an inexpressible
accent of despair and resignation:
"8ir, since you are a surgeon—yes
—I entereat you—let it be you,—and
not—oh, yes. you! you! in mercy!"
"Well, doctor," said the man, "you
or I?"
The resolution of this man was so
frightful, and the prayer of tiie poor
lady so full of entreaty and despair,
that the doctor felt that even hu
manity commanded ot him compliance
with tiie appeal of tiie victim, lie
took his instruments with a last im
piormg iook ill me uhkiiowii, wnu
only pointed to the hand, and with u
sinking heart bejan tiie operation.
For the iirst time in bis experience
his hand trembled, but the knife was
doing its work; there was a cry from
the alcove, and then all was silent.
Nothing was heard but the horrid
sound of tiie operation till the hand
and tiie Haw fell together on the floor.
Lisfranc wore the ruby on his
watch chain, where it wa« seen by the
young lover on his return to Pat is,
and out of it grew a duel that led to
a disclosure of the infamous crime.
The morning after the lover’s arrival
at the capital he was presented by a
man in livery with an ebonv box.
Opening it be discovered a bleeding
hand—Matilda'*- and on it a paper
with th*«. words: ‘ Hee how the
countess of— keeps her oath.”
-•*. ••• ♦r ■ —
Drainage and Fruit Trees.
The best way is to umler-drain with
tile laid from two or three feel deep.
Deep surface drains may carry otT
surface water, hut low-land is gener
ally kept wet hy ground water rising
from below. It tile au* unattainable
stones can be used, laid so a* to leave
a throat, the ditch partly tilled with
small stones, IIIvvited soils over the
stones, and then with soil. Where
neither aie accessible, three |tote* laid
so a* to leave a throat will sometimes
answer lor a lew years. Fruit trees
should he planted a« soon -is the
ground will dn to work ill spring. Dig
holes large enough ,u receive all the
loots straightened out, cut oil the
ends of all broken roots smooth; truo
the lo|si lucotrvcpinid with lust roots,
set the tree about the same depth It
stood In the nursery, cover the roots
with fine, rich soil tree from elouee or
clods; when roots are well covered
tread down the will fruity, lilt the hol>
wnd again tread or stamp down.
Daily ought ws to renew our pur*
|wises, and to stir our selves up to
gieater fervor, and to savi "Help me,
mV tltsl, III this my giowI purpose and
in Thy holy serene, and grant that
I may now tin* day U*jiu perfectly —
Thomas a K> in pin.
JOHN RUSKIN’S ROMANCE.
Mow Mo Courtod, Married, and Waa
Divorced From Mle Idoallstlo
Woman.
New York firaphtr.
John Kuakin r!id a strangely way
ward thing when he consented to get
married. He did a most erratic and
to the public a moat inexplicable thing
when ha arranged for his divorce.
He had accepted some of the loftiest
traditions about womanhood that
men sometimes read of and talk
about, and lie looked for his ideal
companion. One night he met her in
the drawing-room of a Ijondon friend,
who, without his knowing it, bad
brought the young lady to meet the
eyee of the great writer.
It was a June night. He was thirty
five, and she looked like a Greek
goddess.
He was dazzled. Nht was a tall,
graceful girl of nineteen, with a face
and figure as faultless as one of the
statues of old. No one ever expected
Kuakin to fall in love, and he did not.
Hhe waa poor, needed a home and its
comforts, and so t hey were married.
Their wed dm J life waa |>e aceful,
friendly, kindly to the highest degree,
hut there was not a spars of affection
to lighten tlivir existence. Hh# ad
mired the great man she had married,
and waa grateful lor the wealtli and
comfort he showered on her. He
worshiped tier aa he would the marbls
mads life-like by the sculpture s chis
el.
Thers waa nothing human about
the lile they led as husband and wife;
and slut waa a woman, who. in her
heart, like all true women, laughed at
the traditions that made her sex lovs
distant worship.
One day Kuakin brought an artist
to paint. Ills wife's picture. Ami ths
man was Millais, and lie was a bright, 1
t IMtfl J ICIIVW) mimwii.
oveiy inch of him, with a great and
absorbing love for the beautiful, and
a willingness to tell of Ins love.
He began to paint the portrait of
the magnificent woman, ami when he
hail finished lie was m love witli his
friend's wife.
Womanlike nhe saw it, and perhaps
she was not full of sorrow and re
proach. It was the first tribute of
real manful love that had been laid at
tier feet.
And Ituskin? Ills wide eyes saw the
romance that was weaving around
their two lives, and his heart realized
how little affection lie had to lavish
on tile woman whom lie had made his
wife.
How he told her the story of his
pride in tier, and tile sacrifice lie was
to make for tier, while site lay prons
at his feet, ii one of the thing* which
only she or lie could tell.
It is difficult to obtain a divorce in
England, but John Ituskin secured it
tor tier, and one bracing morning in
the early winter, a month after th*
divorce was granted, Ituskin stood
beside tiie couple in one of Ijondon's
quiet churches, and saw them mails
man and wife.
That was a good many years ago,
anil since then Millais has become
ricli and famous, and is now Hir John,
and Ins wife is my Hady Millais.
The warmest, sturdiest friend the
struggling painter had in hi* toiling
•lays was the man whose wife tie had
married, and through all the years ol
Millais' later success and great honor
Joint Ituskin lias been the welcome
guest and almost daily visitor to the
man and woman whose lives lie so
unselfishly crowned with happiness.
• ♦ • ♦
HowUltra-Fashionable Young
Men of Boston Spend Their
Leisure Hours.
Boston Correspondence.
This is the greatest club town in the
world. Every phase of the intellect
ual activity for which Boston is so
famous is represented by a social or
ganization. There is going on here
what might be called a perpetual fer*
mentat ionof ideas,scientific, philosoph
ical, literary, religious—every kind,
in stiort, that interests highly civilized
I 'imanity—all of which urn seeking
expiession ami recognition, very much
as the molecules of a gas strive inces
santly to escape from the receiver con
fining them. Now, the most, effective
way to push an idea, as every one
admits, is over a dinner table. The
man who would otherwise regard
your pet hobby us no end of a
bore will listen to you patiently as
an accompaniment to the nuts and ^
raisins, and, with extra-dry chain-X
pagne and a pousse-cafs to top off,
your most unintereating remarks will
amtear to him positively oracular.
Thus it happens that fordining clubs
there is a jierfect craze in this enlight
ened metropolis. Kverybody who la
anybody belongs to at least half a
dozen, each of which represents some
thing calculated to excite convival en
thusiasm, say, ones a month The
object to which this enthusiasm is di
rected Is of coparatively little impor
tance so long as the grub is palatable
Mild the wine of gooil flavor. (l him* be
theological, political, musical, artistie
—whatever you please. Kvery religi
ous denomination m Huston has its
representative club with the solitary
except ton uf the Kpiei opalians, who
JUll MOW orvHMUIMkt till*. Theirs
will he the swellest of nil—for the
fashionable port m.- ot the town,
though litiuvyt uiiiinst with n urn or
less agnostic Violannm-in is piofeae
tally devoted to the church of Ka<
gland. At periodical interval* -arh
pious ••t.liviiiy is assembled tor the
jitirpose of discussing over the frslive
hoard such tut}atriaul tpiv.tious of 4
sectarian utter* -t a* mat chance to
tie uppermost l.ikcwise the literary
coterus meet for mutual admiration,
th* scteotiiiv |»ii|>W for teamed die
i-iMsiou, 'lie pohtn inti* for theim uha>
t ton ol Macloav. an .* ran a and so
On ad tntthitMio 'I net* I*not, Itt short,
an imaginable sublet nt cnatempa
raiotttfs human interest which is not
represented In Ho.ton hv a club
