Nebraska Newspapers

    I JUNCLKII UGH'S SECRET
M Tho wny was long and tedious , the
H 'in } ' warm and oppressive , and I
H -wearied almost ; beyond endurance.
m If Dnclo Hugh had had his way ,
1 j -overy visitor to Blount Graham
m | 'would have come all tho way by
H ' -carringo , but fortunately itwas be-
H | ; yond oven his power to enforce that.
m | What ho could do he had dono , how-
j vcr. Sovcrnl years belore , there
j had boon a prospect of having a
M . irailway station within ton miles of
HH 'tho place. Tho very idea made Undo
2 | iH gh frantic. Tooth and nail ho
H bought it , and , alas , was successful.
M' * Tho railway was turned aside , and
H | -though tho strugglo had left him
H • straightened in circumstances , al-
M .most impoverished , I do not believe
M "Mint ho had over felt one regret.
M As the carriage swayed and jolted
fl' along , and the old coachman nodded
H' on his box , .with full faith in the
H Jtimo-tried fidelity of his fat horses. I
1 'tried ' to beguile the tedium of the
B < way by recalling the incidents of the
j " ne summer which 1 had spent with
< Uncle Ilugh in my childhood.
H Mount Graham was a quaint , old-
M fashioned place , built long before the
B -devolution , and the queer stories
1 which were told about it had been
m -Sie romance of my childhood. Of
M • aourse it was peopled by ghosts of
B xery shapo and huo. There must
' 3iave been a regular colony ofghosts ,
K ibr there was one devoted to every
m .spot in the house from cellar to attic.
H There was the spectral carriage , which
H 'was lieard , but never seen , to stop at
H hc front door in the middle of the
m flight. A British ofiicer haunted ono
m 'Twdroom , and a White Lady anoth-
H < r. ( It would be interesting to know
H -whether they ever met , and upon
H rhat terms they were in private. )
H Black Nancy held possession of the
H garret , where she still groaned and
H tanked lcr chains as she had done a
H hundred years before when she was a
H Hring maniac. Indians and negroes
H Jand played a part in tho early histo-
H ry of the house. It was before tho
H. devolution , when the country was
Hj sfcill an unbroken forest , that old
H > Colonel Graham conceived the idea
Hj af building a homestead here. He
B -went himself to select a site , and left
H ] za. gang of black men behind him ,
B | tiyith provisions enough to last
H : through tho summer and autumn.
H1 3But , alas ! tho winter came that year
K "with unprecedented suddenness and
B * * * i .severity , shutting in the poor black
H ; tmen to what seemed certain death.
H : Thinly were exploring parties sentto
Bj Sheir relief. The cruel cold baffled
i 3H efforts , and the negroes were ,
H perforce , left to their fate. In the
K apring Col. Graham went to the scene
H of the tragedy. He expected to hear '
M /only the moan of the forest and the
H * 4ash of the waterfall. Ho lieard
- "tbeso indeed , but mingled with them
B -were the ring of hammers and the
M cdamor of cheerful voices. Heexpect-
H ] -ed to find ten moldering skeletons ,
j jperhaps with the mark of the cruel
m -tomahawk upon them. He found in-
1 .stead ten of the fattest and jofiest
B darkies that his eyes ever rested
M upon. Instead of fightingthelndians
H tJiey had fraternized with them , and
B 4is soon as the weather allowed red
H -and blackmen went cheerfully to
H work upon the new house. And that
Hi was why ghostly negroes and In-
HJ vidians stalked amicably through hall
Hi . - nd corridor.
H | The house was a plain one enough
H ] a long , lowrambling building , with
H { * pizza whose roof extended above
Hj -the second-story windows , wonder-
H ifally shaded w ith grape-vines and
H - umpet-creepers. Inside all that was
H -queer and cramped , according to our
H renodern ideas. The rooms were tiny ,
H .and-opened oddly out of each other
H ( by narrow folding-doors. The ceilings
H ' Tere low , some plain , others crossed
H ' 'by huge beams. There deep cushioned
H. -window-seats in the small-paned win-
Bf -4ows. which still bore upon their
H .faithful transparent breasts the
K zname of by-gone belles. "Miss Polly"
- - -and "Miss Betty" had been dust for
H cinany a year , but the names which
I heir admirers had scratched upon
H ho fragile glass were as fresh as the
H , day they were cut. And there was
t ijot a decent closet in the house.
H' That , of course , was quite absurd.
< "but Uncle Hugh never could be made
' -to see it.
K "It served my fjithers , and will
Bj -serve me , " he said , and never could
H "be induced to make the slightest al-
B deration.
I ; "The furniture suited the house.
I ; "There were great hair-cloth-covered
I ; -aofas with frames of solid mahogany ,
I -gome with brass trimmings , others
I ] -cnriously carved into the form of
H 'Scaly dragons. There were bureaus
R 'with claw feet and brass handles on
! -Qie drawers , and great clumsy four-
i post bedsteads , with heavily carved
I' ' legs and shrouding curtains. The
I xallest man could not open the upper
I drawers of the bureaus or step into
I % he beds unaided. Therefore step-
I Iladdera were provided , small but
I .niassive mahogany affairs , neatly
I -carpeted , and made to serve a
I -double purpose , as the top lifted up
I -and showed a receptacle for night
I clothes. There were stiff-backed
chairs and spindle-legged tables , tall
slender candle-stands , and quaint
( > "little work-stands , Avith fluted sides ,
| " .and faded satin bags suspended be-
'neath , and all the rest of the odd old'
furniture , which in these days would
et a collector mad with longing , but
&b which we privately turned up
f -scornful noses.
There was not much fault to be
-found with the garden , for all it
was prim and old-fashioned. Never
c sjrere box borders so tall and trim
t : and glossy. Never were limes and
jjL catalpas so fragrant as those which
% -overhung it. Never were there such
W 'beds of lilies-of-the-valley aad violets
f ad .periwinkle as grew at their feet.
r
| :
\ In Juno it was a iruo garden of de
lights , when the entnlpa showered its
delicate , toa-lilo fragrance from all
its violet-veined bells , and tho limes
rained scent from theirgolden tassels ,
and the roses made tho place glow
with their splendor , as thoy rioted
everywhere. Later came larkspur
and sweet-pen , sweet-william and
mignonette , hollyhocks , stately and
tall , dusky wall-flowers , purple
pnnsies , stock-gillies , and all the rest
of the dear old floral friends. No
modern plants were ever allowed in
Uncle Hugh's domain.
There was ono spot which always
excited our curiosity. It lay exactly
in the center of tho garden , and
equalled in space four or five of the
flower boils. For years no spadehad
touched it , and it was a mere tangle
of weeds , in curious contrast with the
rest of the trimly-kept garden.
Every ono wondered about it , of
course. A few were even bold enough
to ask questions , but met only a
stony stare or at best a polite evasion
from Uncle Hugh.
My first special remembrance of
this plot went back to tho day when
Philip and I decided that our happi
ness and well-being required that wo
should have a garden of our own.
Philip was Philip Graham , Uncle
Hugh's great-nephew , who , with his
brother and sister , was also spending
the summer at Mount Graham. This
uncultivated spot struck me as en
tirely suitable for a garden , and we
went to work at it with a will.
"How pleased Uncle Hugh will be
when he sees it ! " said Philip , as we
paused a moment to rest.
Just then Uucle Hugh came in sight
a stately figure in the dress of his
youth , to which ho still clung. He .
was walking withhishend bent down ,
and his little queue stuck out curi
ously above his high stock. As ho
came near us he looked up , and at
sight of our occupation an express
ion which Ave had never seen before
flashed over his face. It Avas a mix
ture of surprise , indignation , and in
credulity , curiously blended with
what seemed almost like terror.
"What are you doing there , chil
dren ? " he cried , in a sternToice , such
as Ave had never heard from him be
fore. "Come aA\'ay this instant. Nev
er set foot in that spot again. Do
you hear ? "
"But why. Uncle Hugh ? " asked
Philip , standing his ground boldly ,
"Never mind why , " said the old
man , stamping his foot. "Come
aAvay this instant , and neA'er go
there again never.
Wo came aAvay , too thoroughly
frightened at Uncle Hugh's most un
wonted outburst to think of rebelling.
Tavo days lator a stout fence sur
rounded the place. Philip and I were
deeply hurt , for it Avas the first time
that Uncle Hugh had CArer , by word
or deed , shown the slightest distrust
of any one of us. Wo heard him
murmur as he looked at the fence :
"Tho children could hardly haAre
found out yet. But they Arill groAV
older , and Tes , it Avas safer. "
The next scene in that visit which I
remembered well Avas the rainy day
when we children had to amuse our
selves within-doors. A game of
hide-and-seek in and
- - Avas progress ,
Philip Avas the seeker. Nanny and I
Avent off together , and the place in
which aa'o elected to hide Avas under
Uncle Hugh's great four-post bed
stead. Nanny lifted the ruffled A'alance
carefully , and I crept in , Avhacking my
head violently as I did so against
some long black object thickly stud
ded AA'ith brass nails.
"A treasure-box , " said Nanny , who
was always romantic. •
Just then a flash of lightning lit up
the room. Through the chink in the
valance the light fell upon the box ,
and I scrambled out A\-ith a yell of
terror. Had it been ghost I should
have thought little of it , but a coffin
Avas a real tangible , blood-curdling
horror. We fleAV down-stairs , our
eyes starting from our heads , and
plunged into the very arms of Philip.
Our story burst at once from our
trembling lips , and Philip listened
with the OA'crpoAvering gravity of his
twelve years.
"It's queer enough , " he said when
avo had finishedbut ; I'll tell you what
it is , you'd better not talk about it.
People say now that Uncle Hugh is a
little cracked , and if thsy knew this
AA'heAv ! how they Avould go on ! He's a
bully old uncle to us , and Ave're
bound to stand by him through
thick and thin. So mindnot , a Avord
to anybody. "
Nanny and I promised faithfully ,
and I believe Ave kept our word.
"Uncle Hugh , " said Philip , a feAV
days later , "do you know there aro
chicken thieves about ? "
"Chicken thieves ? " said Uncle Hugh
"And prav how do you knoAV that ,
Master Philip ? "
"I reckon you'd know it too if
you'd been out this morning , " said
Philip. "There are tracks all over
the placeand holes dug. "
' • Chickens don't
groAV underground
like potatoes , " put in Charley , con
temptuously. "They're no chicken
thieA-es. But I'll tell you what it is ,
Uncle Hugh. It's some good-for-
nothing loafer digging for treasure.
It's all over the country that Capt.
Kidd's treasures are buried here. Or
else that the old Grahams buried
their plate and jeAvels in the revolu
tion and forgot to digthem up again
People don 't seem quite sure which ,
but they'll take their oath it's one or
the other. And since you fenced in
that place in the garden , they're
just cock-sure it's there. "
"What ! " cried Cncle Hugh , in a
x oice which made us all jump in our
seats.
Charley knew nothing of Philip's
and my attempt at gardening. We
had been too much ashamed to speak
of it , and he had no idea that there
Avas anything taboo in the subject.
Now hoAvastoo much scared to speak ,
but simply stared at Uncle Hugh ,
Avho recovered himself sIoavIv.
"So they say there ate buried
treasures , do they ? " he said , with a
queer , constrained sort of smile.
"Well ! well ! There is no limit to what
people wall say and belieAre. But lam
glad you told me , Charley , boy yes ,
very glad , I must see about it , "
Ten days later the fence AA-as taken
aAvay. Andrew , the gardener , and
John , the coachman , had kept Avatch
with loaded guns since the firstalarm.
A substantial summer house , Avhich
had been made in the neighboring
villago and brought over piecemeal ,
WMMWMMMBMMMMMMMMMWWIH l HI IT 1
Avas put up on tho spot. Undo lftu h ,
Andrew , and John did 1 ho Avholeof
tho work , and no ono elso waB al
lowed eA'en to look on. It Avns set so
low that no ono could possibly creep
under it , and Uucle Hugh rubbed his
hands Avhen it was done.
"There ! " ho said'"I think that will
puzzle thorn. I defy them to pull it
doAvn and they can hardly burn it
AvithoutAvnkeningsomo of us. I think
we aro safe at last. "
Our arrival at the gate of Mount
Graham brought my memories
to an abrupt conclusion. Twilight
had already fallen Avhen Ave drove up
the long a\'enno. Tho door stood
hospitably open , and Uncle Hugh
aAvaited mo upon the steps.
"Welcome to Mount Graham ,
Elinor , my child , " he said , as he led
me into the parlor. "It was good of
you to come. The place has few
charms for a young thing like you ,
but I felt strangely lonely , and longed
for the sight of a fair young face.
All ! the old man is failing , my dear. "
T looked up , surprised at his tone.
As the light fell upon my face Unrle
Hugh started. Then he glanced at a
portrait A\iiich since my earliest re-
memberance had hung over the high
narrow mantel-piece.
"You have groAvn strangely like "
he said and paused abruptly.
I know Avhat he meant. The por
trait Avas that of my own great-aunt
Elinor , avIiosc sudden death , just one
year after her marriage to Hugh
Graham , had left him a broken and
shattered man. I had often been told
ofthcliknncss , anditAvas Avith relief
that I now saw that its recognition
was pleasure rather than a grief to
him.
him.The
The next day I ronoAved my ac
quaintance AA'ith thogarden , andwith
AndreAV , the old gardner. Apparent
ly not a plant had been added and
not one removed since my former
visit. The box borders Avere as trim
and glossy as evor. Darkspurs , jas
mine , marigolds , all grew iust Avliere
I remembered them. There Avas the
row of hollyhocks , trim and straight
against the garden Avail , and there
Avas the summer-house. I laughed
out as I saAv it.
"AndreAV " I said "the
, , summer-
house is standing yeb. I see. "
"Lord love you , yes , miss. That'll
stand there until Master Hugh and
me both turn our toes up. It Avas a
queer thing to put it there : but Mas
ter hugh wanted it , and that's enough
for I. "
"It is curious that this spot should
never have been cultivated , " said I.
"It seems as if it should have been
the prettiest spot in the garden. "
AndreAV scratched his head thought
fully. "So it do seem , miss , and so
it Avas once , " he said. "The beauti-
fulestbed oflillies , all white and gold.
That AA'ar many a long year ago ,
though , before eA'er youAvas born ; be
fore Miss Elinor , Master Hugh's wife ,
died. Beg pardon miss ! butlknoAA'ed
her first as Miss Elinor and Miss Eli
nor , she ahvays AAras to me , bless her
SAA'eet heart ! It was her lilly-bed.
Mornin' and evnin' she used to come
out and Avatch the lillies a-blowin'
and a-swingin' on their green stalks.
Said it minded her of Heaven , it did ,
Avith the Avhite robes a-gleamin' and
the golden harp a ringin , ' and the
praises goin' up like fragrance forever
and forever. Oh , she AA'as a lovely
young lady ! After she died Master
Ilt'gb. seemed to go just wild like
clean distraught. Said he'd no call
to iiA'0 noAV , and might as well get
ready for death. So out he goes and
buys his coffin , 'Andrew , ' says he , 'I
Avant to lie right here , among the lil
lies she loved , ' says he , 'and to make
sure , I'm going to make my bed
noAv. ' So then lie began , and ho dug
and he dug and he dug , right smack
in the middle of the lily bed. Oh ,
but they are beautiful lilies ! He dug
and he dug , and at last , after awhile ,
he seemed to forget AA'hat heAvas
diggin' for , and just kept on. He
got so deep that They do say ,
miss , some does , that the the fire ,
you knoAV , is doAA'n theie , and I was
mortal afraid he'd come to it. Day
in and day out he dug and ho dug.
So at last he madebold to send
word to his brother , - . Master Philip ;
young Master Philip's father he was.
So he came , and brought a friend
with him. I never had no opinion
of that young fellow from the time I
saw him moonin' round the edge of
• the hole , a-pokin " and a pryinV
And AA'hen he goes doAvn into it , and
comes up AA'ith a broad grin on his
.face , AArhy , I makes up my mind
about him then and there. So then
he goes into the house post haste ,
and presently out comes Master
Hugh in a toAverin' rage , and Master
Philip Avith him , tryin' to quiet him
like , but Master Hugh Avouldn't be
quieted , not he. 'Fill up that hole ,
Andrew , ' says he. 'Or here ! I'll do
it myself. ' And Avith that he Avhops
down into the hole and digs away at
tho sides till he buries himself nigh
up to the Avaist. So then he hauls
him out , and I fills up the rest my
self , and glad enough to do it , so
long as he wasn 't at the bottom of
• it. 'Mind , Andrew , ' he says , when
it's done , 'a spade is never to be put
into that place Avhile I'm aboA-e
ground. ' So then they goes into the
house , and after a while Master
Philip and his friend they drives
away. So that's all I know , miss ;
and if you can make anything of it ,
Avliy. I'm free to confess I can't. But ,
ail ! they Avas beautiful lilies. "
Andrew ' s story , instead of clearing
up , had only deepened tho mystery
of the bpob , and a weird and uncanny
feeling crept OA'er me as I turned
away.
In my childhood I had never fully
realized the peculiarities Avhich had
given Uncle Hugh his reputation of
being a little cracked. Looking at
him noAV Avith eyes purged from their
childish films , I could readily under
stand how he might be so regarded.
His horror of anything like innova
tion AAas certainly AA'onderful. All
tho water Aised in the house was
brought from a aa'oII an eighth of a
mile aAA'ay , not eA'en a pump in the
kitchen being tolerated. The rooms
Avere lighted ' solelby Avax candles in
an old-fashioned candelabra or heavy
silver candlesticks , as Avas reckoned
genteel in his youthf Of course it
was useless to suggest such horrors
as gas or kerosene ; but at one time a
bold effort Avas made to effect a com
promise. A visitor Avith some regard
for his eyesight brought with him as
.
> MM > auMMUMaua > MBUMisiwaaiMMiaaUi
a present to Uncle Hugh nn old-fash
ioned astral lamp , in Avhich sperm
oil burned Avith a villanous odor. In
upito of its antiquity , however. Uncle
Hugh Avas made very uneasy about
it. Politeness caused him to tolerate
it durintr his guest's stay , but not an
instant longer. Hardly had the car
riage borne him from the door than
Uncle Hugh turned Avith a beaming
face , crying : "Thank the Lord the
villain has gone ! Now for a return
to the good old ways ! " And straight
way tho lamp Avas banished to the
lumber-room , the AvindoAVS flung
wide to purify the room , and the Avax
candles , Avith their glow-Avorm light ,
again reigned supreme.
Tho Avinter came soon and cold
that year. It is hardly necessary to
say that not a lump of coal was ever
burned in Uncle Hugh's domains. It
Avas a sight to see the great kitchen
AA'ith its huge open fireplaces , Avhere
the monster logs Avere consumed , the
cranes , spits , and bake-pans , and the
queer oven on tho side of the chimey-
placo. All OA-er the house open Avood
fires cracked and snapped and roared ;
but however agreeable as accessories ,
I found them Avretched substitutes
for the furnace heat of modern days.
Colder and colder grew the Aveather ,
and vainly I strove to fancy myself
thoroughly warmed by the ruddy
glare.
"Uncle Hugh , " I said at length ,
rendered desperate by despair , "why
do you not burn coal ? "
I knew that I ran the risk of offend
ing Uncle Hugh , but 1 Avas by no
means prepared for the scorn and in
dignation in his face as he dropped
the Bambler and turned upon me.
"And Avhy should I burn coal
young lady ? " he asked in a cool , in-
cisiA'e tone which Avas Avorse than an
outburst of rage. Is not the rael
that my fathers used good enough
for me ? If the Lord had meant coal
to be used by man , would he haA-e
shut it up in the bowels of the earth ?
Ho has put our enemy under our feet ,
and there let it stay. There let it
stay ! " he cried again , staining his
foot as if he Avere trampling upon the
very old dragon himself , Avhile a curi
ous blaze of triumph shone in his
eye.
eye.I stared at him mutely for a mo
ment , too much astonished to speak.
Then the memory of the soft encir
cling AA'armtli of the coal fires in my
OAvn home came OA'er me once more ,
and urged me on.
"All modren ways are not barbar
ous , " I persisted. "When the Lord
AA'as ready for men to use coal he
brought it to light. If you Avould
but try it once you Avould never go
back to Avood. It is cheaper , to. "
"If it Avere cheap as dirt it should
never bo burned in my house ! " cried
Uncle Hugh , hotly. Then , master
ing his emotion Avith an evident effort ,
he added , Avith his old-time courtesy :
"I crave your pardon , Elinor. These
subjects I Avould AA'illingly avoid ; but
this I will say : Your last argument :
is false , for cheaper it is not. The
Avood lies at my door , but Iioav far -
must the coal be fetched ? " \
Iliad forgotten that point , and
vexation at mp slip , joined to the
effects of the miserable cold , nearly :
got the better of my temper. I tried ]
to turn it off with a joke. "You .
have only to dig up your buried
treasures" but I stopped short in '
dismay. For Uncle Hugh had start- J
ed to his feet , his face Avhite , his eyes
glaring , his hair fairly bristling in (
spite of his tightly tied queue. ,
"What ! Avhat ! " he stammered ,
scarcely able to speak. "Who has \
been telling you ! Who has been put- ]
ting notions into your head ? What
do you mean , girl ? " ,
"Dear Uncle Hugh ! " I cried , terrifi- \
ed at his emotion. "Sit down ! Do !
calm yourself. It Avas only a miserI I
able joke. The country people used ,
to say that Captain Ividd's treasure \
Avas buried here , you knoAA' , and it ]
just happened to come into my mind. .
It Avas stupid of me to speak of it ; ! '
but do , do forgive me. " ,
Uncle Hugh sat doAA'n , weak' un
nerved , trembling in every limb. ,
Gradually the color returned to his \
face , and he regained the self-control
which lie had so strangely lost. That
1 lost myself in Avondering conjectures s
need hardly be said. In vain I strove ]
to pierce the mystery , to piece to- j
gether my childish recollections and (
old AndreAv's story. They AA'ere like
two halves of different puzzles. Do
what I Avould I could not fit them to
each other. It one aided me to a ]
plausible solution , the other came up
and undid all my Avork , until at last ,
I did what it Avould haA-e been wiser
to do at first , simply gaAe the Avhole *
thing up and tried to turn my atten- <
tion to other matters. 5
Iliad enough to think of just at ]
this time. If I have not spoken bei i
fore of the partAvhich Philip played <
in my life it Avas because it seemed <
that every one must know of it. It <
seems impossible for anone to think ]
of me apart from Philip or of Philip ]
apart from me , so completely one ]
have Ave been since our earliest child- ]
hood. When iAventhome ; early in ]
the spring , it Avas to make prepara- j
tions for my marriage , Avhich took <
place in August. j
The old proverb in regard to the J
course of true loA-e had not been A-eri- ]
fled in our courtship. Therefore , per- <
haps , it Avas but jut-t that our mar- (
ried life should not move on al togeth- ]
er smoothly , as far as outward events ]
were concerned. If there was an unj
lucky investment possible our money j
Avas init ; if a bank failed or a comc
pany Avent to smash there Avero avp in (
the midst of it. When we Avere re- (
dueed to living in a low-priced flat , 1
and Philip Avas a bookkeeper for
Grogram & Co. . Ave thought the
Avorst had come upon us. Then Gro
gram & Co. failed , and Ave sat down
and looked at each other , not exi i
actly in despair , for we still had each j
other , but cor tainly in dire perplexity. - ,
"I Avonder Avhether Uncle Hugh .
would let me dig up some of his ]
buried treasures it I Avent qu my knees ;
to him ? " I asked ruefully. <
Just then avo heard the postman ' s '
signal , and Philip Avent to see Avhat <
he had brought. , • i
"Many a true Avord is spoken in :
jest , " said Philiip , as he came back 1
reading a letter.
"tt hat is it , Philip ? " I asked , and
looked up a little pale and shaken.
"Uncle Hugh is dead , " he said ,
quietly.
It Avas not a shock , forwe had long
been expecting the news. The poor
r , "
- t • >
' 1 , * - - * " < • > .
fe "safe * t > ffl > i&HafSfc : * , vurt to. "L. a > ; - > ! - -afr j
old gentleman had been failing fast ,
and for some time had been confined
entirely to his bed. Ho had passed
o-Avny quietly in his sleep , Avithout a
sound or sigh. When avo had talked
of it for a little Avhiie 1 remembered
Philip's observations , as he came in ,
and asked him Avhat it meant.
Philip smiled , "You know , of
course , " he suid "that Ave Nanny ,
Charley and I are Uncle Hugh's sole
heirs. "
"Well , " I said dubiously , "it will
not bo much diA'ided among three.
You know he spent most of Ins money
fighting the railroad company. "
"You forget the buried treasures , "
said Philip , Avith a curious twinkle in
his eye.
"Philip ! " I cried , indignantly , "I
shouldn't think you'd go making
stupid jokes noAV. "
Philip became grave instantly.
"It is not a joke , I assure you , my
dear. The simplo fact is that Mount
Graham stands OA'er a coal
bed. My grandfather had always
suspected the fact , and he once
took up a mineralogist tomako sure ,
but the effect on Uncle Hugh wsis so
dreadful that he neA'er dared to al
lude to it again. He told my father
of it , however , making him promise
to keep it secret as long as Uncle
Hugh should live. My father , in his
turn , told me , under the same re
strictions. Uncle Hugh , as avo all well
know , AA'as half insane , and any at
tempt to use the knowledge would in
fallibly haA-e pushed him OA'er the
brink- . "
"But Iioav can AA'e use it now ,
Phillip I asked , "when " I paused ,
but Phillip knew Avhat I meant.
"It is very strange. " he said. "But
a feAV months ago I received a letter
from Uncle TIughAvritten apparently
in anticipation of his death. It Avas
a strange , rambling letter , inspired
he said , by thespiritofhislostElinor.
He said that she had convinced him
that the Lord had buried His treas
ures in the earth , to be disclosed in
his own good time for the use of man.
Therefore I Avas to consider myself at
full liberty to do as I pleased Avith
the old place. "
"How strange ! " I cried ; remember
ing my last talk with Uncle Hugh. It
is as if the words had been put into
my mouth. Who knoAvs Avhether thoy
Avere or not ?
I haA-e neA'er seen Mount Graham
since. Phillip and I talked of going
up before operations Avere begun , but
I decided that I Avould rather remem
ber it as it Avas AA'hen I knew it first.
And noAV there is no Mount Graham
to see.
H. n. HoLBiacir ,
in Harper's Bazar.
' 1 ae - < c
Is It for Jay Gould !
There is a certain rich man of New
York , currently reported to be out
of ' health , avIio is spendinghis summer
in cheerful mortuary pursuits. The
architects ; who design his houses and
yachts for him are just now hard at
Avork on the drawings for a tomb
that is to be at once the biggest ,
most ornate , and most thoroughly
last in
burglar-proof resting-place
this country. It Avill reach some hun
dred or more feet in the air , cover
nearly half an acre of ground , re
quire 1 something like three years ta
complete the rich and beautiful sculp
tures Avith Avhich it Avill be adorned ,
and the A'ault to contain the ashes
of the dead plutocrat is a marvel of
mechanical ingenuity.
In the first place , the ponderous
slabs of granite forming the four
sides of the receptacle for the coffin
are nearly three feet in thickness.
The upper one moves on springs as
smothly as a door , but only when
certain intricate combinations have
been carried out upon the lock , and
any fumbling Avith the fastenings by
a hand that does not know the
proper springs to be pressed and
pulled awakens certain engines of de
struction Avhich Avillmakeit decidedly
uncomfortable for the fumbler. But
the hardy body-snatcher Avould have
first to penetrate through many ob
stacles and difficulties before he
reached the place where he could sat
isfactorily blow himself into smith
ereens. Brooklyn Eairle.
The WidoAV of a Celebrated 3ran.
From the Buffalo Courier.
A Buffalonian writes from Orrrs Is
land on the coast of Main of a pleas
ant morning spent Avith Mrs. Mac-
Gahan.theAA'idow ofthe famous corre
spondent whose accounts of the
Bulgarian atrocities had a large share
in the work of changing the map of
Southeastern Europe. Mrs. Mac-
Gahan is a Russian , and at the time
of her marriage could speak no Eng
lish. As her husband could speak no
Russian , they used to com-erse in
French altogether. She now talks to
her little boy of thirteen oneA\eok in
Russian and thenext in French. She
is tho American correspondent of two
St. Petersburg newspapers , and is en
gaged upon a novel of Russian life
she is Avriting in English. At Orr ' s
Island she has been with the family
of Nathan Dole , of Boston , the ac
complished translator of Tolstoi's
novels. It will be remembered that
Buffalonians Avere somewhat taken
aback last Avinter AA'hen Charles Will
iams the English correspondent ,
spoke of MacGahan as a fellow-
countryman. He regarded the fact
of the hitter's birth in Ohio as a
matter of no consequence.
= s > o-c =
She RcfHseil $1.)0000.
The tenacity AA'ith AAiiich peopleTove
co hold to their homesteads is illus
trated in a piece of land Avhich is at
Bar Harbor , the fashionable water
ing-place , and Avhich has "a view " '
and would be a splendid site for a
cottage. It is owned by an old Irish
Avasherwoman aa'Iio has a hut and
dries her clothes there. All persu&a-
ions to s ll it have failed to move
her , and it is said that § 150,000 was
offered for the property this summer.
The simple-minded Bar Harborites
haA-e ahvays resented the inroads of
"the swells" and thoAvay they haA-e
appropriated the place , and many of
them have similarly refused to
sell their birthplaces. Philadelphia
Times.
i
"
Tho Iron Duko'a Breeches.
Ono morning when tho duko of
Wellington Avas at breakfast , says
Cassoll's Magazine , ho received a
letter in an unknown and rather
illegiblo handwriting. With a view
to obtaining a clew to its contents
he put on his eyeglasses and scrutin
ized tho signature , Avhich ho read "C.
J. , London. " "Oh ! " said his grace ,
"the bishop of London , to bo sure.
What does the bishop wnnt of me , I
Avonder ? " Then he began at tho be
ginning and read the note carefully
through , an expression of bowilder-
ment and perplexity gradually o\Ter-
sprending his face as he did so. The
Avriter craved his grace's pardon for
the intrusion and requested as a per
sonal favor that the duke Avould
kindly permit him to come and see
his famous Waterloo breeches.
"Why , the bishop must Iuia'o gone
mad ! " exclaimed the duke , as he let
his glasses fall. "See my Waterloo
breeches ! What in tho world does
tho man AA'ant to see my breeches
for ? However , I'm sure I've no ob
jection if ho has a curiositAabout
them. . A queer Avhim , though , for a
bishop to take into his head. "
Next morning the bishop of Lon
don , on sorting his pile of correspon
dence , found among it a letter bear
ing a ducal crest , lie opened it and
road as folloAA's : "My Dear Lord : You
are perfectly AA'clcome , as far as I am
concerned , to come and inspect the
breeches I aa'oiv at Waterloo AA'hen-
ever you like. It's true I haven 't a
notion Avhere they are , but I daresay
my A'alet kno\ASand I will communi
cate Avithyou more definitely in a day
or two. Y'ours , voryfaithfully , Welling
ton. " "The poor duke ! " ejaculated
the bishop of London , in a A'oico of
the profoundest commiseration. "I
ahvays thought it Avas foolish of him
to enter political lire after his mili
tary career. He must be helplessly
insane. What a dreadful thing for
the country , to be sure ! " So the
worthy bishop , Avith many sighs ,
Avent into his study and wrote a kind
letter to the duke of Wellington ,
remembering that persons Avho are
mentally afflicted must be dealt Avith
tenderly. He thanked his grace
for his kindness , but as
sumed him as delicately as he could
that he Avas not in the least anxious
to inspect the historical relics in ques
tion , and begged that the duko would
giA-e himself no further trouble in the
matter as far as he , the bishop of
London , Avas concerned.
It AA'as noAV the duke's turn to be
astonished. "I can 't haA'o been
dreaming , he said in his perplexity.
"And yet the bishop's first letter AA'as
plain enough. " Then he did what he
oughtho have done inthe first instance
he called for his secretary , Col. B. ,
and laid tho AA'holo matter before him.
"I am afraid it's your grace Avho has
made the mistake , " said Col. B. , an
irrepressible smile flitting over his
face as he examined the two letters.
"The first letter is not from the bish
op of London atallaiordoes the writ
er say anything about the breeches
you Avore at Waterloo. " ' "Not from
the bishop ! " exclaimed the duke.
"Yes it is. The signature is as clear
as can bc > 'C. J. , London. ' The in
itials stand for Charles James. " "It
is from Mr. C. J. Loudon , a. scientific
avIio is im-
gentleman preparing an - 1
portant Avork on forest trees , " re-
" AA'hat he' '
plied tho secretary ; "and
AA'ants to see is your grace ' s aA-enue , j
the Waterloo beeches , as they are' '
called , leading up to your door at j '
Strathfieldsaye. Shall I Avrite and ! :
giA'e him your permission ? ' ' ' And 1 ;
thus it fell out that both duke and j [
bishop AA'ere ultimately convinced of
each other's sanity.
The ' 'Xiggcr" Who Wokenp. .
There AA'ere a lot of negroes on the
boat as passengers , and one after- '
noon as the boat left Baton Rouge
a little crowd of us on the promenade
deck got to discussing the colored \
man. The colonel aa'Iio was from ,
Wisconsin , claimed that the reason ]
the AA'hite man did not get along (
better AA'ith the negro Avas because he j
did not study his physiognomy. \
"You just set 'em all doAvn as lazy , ' ,
trifling , and dishonest , " he said to ]
the major , Avho Avas from South Car- '
olina , "and the good suffer Avith the \
bad. "
"Do you believe there is such a \
thing as an honest nigger in Louisia
na ? " asked the major.
"Of course I do. ' '
"Could you pick one out in that ,
croAvd down there ? " ' *
"Certainly I could. ' ' ,
"Well , go ahead for the cigars. ' .
'
Just pick your man , hand him a ,
piece of money , and tell him to AA'alk ]
to the stern-post and back and re
turn it. " ,
"Sa a * , major , tiler ' s thirtAnegroes ]
doAvn there I'd trust Avith mv Aval-
let. " ,
"Very AA'ell. We 'll go doAvn and '
you pick out one. * '
The colonel passed a dozen before {
he-came to a middle-aged man asleep (
on a sack of cotton-seed meal. lie
studied the felloAv ' s face for a long \
minute and then shook him aAA-ake. \
"What's de row ? " ' demanded the "
negro.
"I am going to trust you. " replied
the colonel. "I haA-e been looking
you OA-er and I know you to ie an
honest man. " '
"I ar' dat. "
"Here ' s a § 20 gold piece. Take ic
to the stern ofthe boat , make a AA'ith ;
for one particular thing , aiuj bring it J
back. " ' . * '
The negro seized it and smarted off. ,
and he had no sooner left the stern .
than we heard a great yelling upJ J '
stairs , folIoAA-od by the bf ils to 5-top j' :
the boat. We ran up. nad there Avas
the colonel's honest negro between
us and shore , striking out like a
AA-hale , and his mouth out of shane
with the gold piece stuffed into it.
- still he reach
While aa-o Avere looking
ed the bank , craAvled upon the levee ,
and then turned and shouted :
"I just dun wished I AA'as ashore ,
an' vere I ami Good-bve , white
folks ! "
"Still , * ' said the major , as he turn-
to sit doAA-n , "the colonel might try
a dozen more and find them all hon
est. "
But tho colonel went off to his
seat-room in a'huff. Detroit Free
Press.
* " 'w < llWMttTrtegniMI | | iilMWfty < r > "rir'
, ' • \ = : ' i
AWcdilltigr Story. jj.
From tho London Tologrnpli. t §
Tho homily Avith Avhich our mar- iJ |
riago services closes lacks intrinsic ? jj |
cheerfulness and its peculiar clmrraH , , A.
actual or suggestive , are seldom np- * |
preciatcd by the moro youthful class %
of brides. Neither , despite its slight |
indelicacy , do all bridegrooms relish 1
it Avith n perfect zest , although , hi %
summarizing the obligations of mat- m
rimony , it puts the case for tho hus- Jx
band a good deal more advantage- * | §
ously than for the Avife. I remember M
nn odd incident , illustrative of the J
objections entertained toward this f %
tiresome exordium by men of tho " * -Ji
"Time is money" and "Self-help" J
Avays of thinking. It took placo at | f- '
the second AA'edding of an honorable %
and gallant friend of mine , Avhose %
humor Avas abundant , but ofthe vn- J %
ricty knoArn as "dry. " HoAvas being J. .
married , lot us say , at South Shields , * \
a good many years ago , and , having" : ;
been through tho ceremony before ,
as a principal , was sharply on the • " $
lookout for the homily , Avhich ho re
garded in the light of a A'oxatious-
superfluity. Accordingly Avhen the
curate a young and somewhat ner-
a'ous ecclesiastic had completed the
"buckling-to" part of theservicoand ,
AA'as mildly bleating ont the exhor
tation to "hear Avhat Saint Paul
saith , " Captain P held up his hand ,
to the officiant's utter dismay , and
interrupted him AA'ith the Avords. "I
beg your pardon , sir ; bub are aac le
gally married ? " "Whyyes ; certain
ly you are , "Avas the hesitating reply ,
"Then , sir , " rejoined the captain ,
"I'll not trouble 3-011 to tell us > vhnt
Saint Paul said. Saint Paul may '
have been a very good feTToAv ; but he
wasn't a South Shields man. " This
said , he gave his arm to his neAvly-
made wife , and led her aAvay calmly
in the direction of the A'ostry.
Tho curate , it appears , entertained
so high an opinion of the occulfc vir
tues of tho homily , and of the bene
ficial effects they could not fail to ex
ercise upon a young married couple ,
that he took my friend aside a few
minutes before the AA'eddingbreakfast
and timidly asked him Avhether he
Avould permit him , the said curateto
impart St. Paul's views to him and
Mrs. P orally on their return from-
the honeymoon trip ? To this ques- fl
tion , dictated by professional zeal I
Avhich Avould have done credit to an fl
Early Christian , ray friend returned
a polite , but evasiA-eansAA-er. When , I
hoAvoA'er , husband and wife came
back to their natiA'o tenvn , at the-
conclusion of Avhat the Germans so
happily term "Die FIitter\A'ochen , * r
they AA'ere so obA'iously a happy pair ,
and the subsequent harmony of I
their married life proved so delight- I
fully continuous , as -istheirmany H
friends and acquaintances kneAVthat , B
the reA'crend enthusiast never found H
occasion to " { dace" his favorite hornfl
ily , and AA'isely left aJ least tAvo ofhis
Avedded parishioners to work out fl
their connubial felicity in their oavil
way. fl
' 13 oc ! H
Spiders' Wolis. H
I read the statement in this maga-
zine not long ago , about the spiders' H
AA'ebs that cover the fields and mead- H
oaa-s , on certain mornings in the Sum- H
mer AA'hich AA'as not entirely exact. It H
;
is 1 not quitetrueinthesenseiiiAvhichit H
was uttered , that these spiders' Avobs H
are more abundant 011 some morn- H
ings than on others , and that they H
presage fair Aveather. Noav the truth H
is , that during the latter part of H
Summer these Avebs are about as H
abundant at ono time as another ; H
but they are much more noticable on M
some mornings than on others ; a H
heavy dew brings them to vieAA' . M
They are especially conspicuous after M
a morning of fog , such as often fills jH
our deeper valleys for a feAV hours M
AA'hen Fall approaches. They then M
look like little napkins spread all M
over the meadoAvs. I savr fields last j J
Summer , in August , when one could M
step from one of these dew-napkins to j |
another for a long distance. They M
are little nets that catch the fog. ' M
Every thread is strung AA'ith innuin- , | H
orable fine drops , like tiny beads. ' M
After an hour of sunshine , thewebs M
apparently are gone. M
Most country people , I find ; think M
they are due to nothing but the mois- M
ture ; others seems to think that tlw M
spiders take them in as morning ad- H
vances. But they are still there , ' j k
stretched aboA'e the gras at noon i H
and at sunset , as abundant as they H
are at sunrise ; and are then more ' m
serA-iceable to the spiders because less M
visible. The fliesand insects avo aid M
aA'oid them in the morning , bub at M
midday they do not detect them as < H
readily. If these Avebs haA'o any ! M
significance as signs of the corning ' M
AA-eather thiVmaybetheexplanation : ' H
A heavy dew occurs under a clear , ! |
cool sky , and the niirht proceeding a * |
daA' of rain is unuailv adoAA-Iessnight. 'J ' |
Much deAA" , then , meaas fair Aveather ' * H
and , a copious dew discloses the i H
spiders ' wubs. It is the dew that is j M
significant , and not the A\ebs. Joe , |
Burroughs , in St. > .iehohi . \ M
• i - og.i l H
This IfappeiicJ at Nantucket. ' H
Harper ' s jragazinc. M
Last fall a man was arrested firvr- H
petty larceny and sentenced by the ' H
judge to three months in jail. A ! w H
days after the trial , , the judge , ac- H
companied by the sheriff was ax hln ; H
Avoy to the Boston boa ; , AA'hen th y H
passed a man sawing Avood. H
The sawyer stopped his. Avork. H
touched bis hat. and said : "Good H
morning , judge. " J M
The judge looked at him amomeat , - . H
passed on a shore distance , aiid then ' |
turned to glance baekAvard Avith the- H
question : * * Why , sheriff , isn't that _ H
the man I sentenced to three months H
m ] au. * H
" * Yes , " replied the sheriff , hesitat- H
ingly ; "yes. that's the man : but you ' - 1
youseejudjreAve Ave haven 't any H
one in jail iioav , and AA'e thought it a H
useless expense to hire some one to H
keep the jail for three months just H
for this one man , so I gave him the H
key , and told him if he'd sleep there H
three nights it would be all right. " M