Nebraska Newspapers

    | . I in in inn. i. . nu..ri.- . I , nil I ii
I an ARCiTfrecrslviFiir"
C A SpnnlNh Talo.
f- Tf it were-lawful to add another to
' itho eight Bentitudes given in the
\ ' icatcchism , I would ndd the follow-
I < 5ng : "Blessed are they that marry
| m sensible woman , for theirs shall bo
* domestic felicity. " And if it were
f x Bawful to illustrate the Beatitudes
p with historical notes , I would append
Ho the aforesaid ninth the following
explanation :
la the middlo of the fourteenth
cccntury the Bastard , Don Enrique
r dc Trastamara , was besieging
J Toledo , which offered a brave and
p' "itcnacious defense , being 103'ul to
4hat king called by some "The Just"
< idnd by others "Tho Cruel. " Many a
I < fcimo and oft had tho faithful and
% -courageous Toledanos crossed the
* jaiagnificent bridge of San Martin ,
one of tho handsomest and most
- useful architectural treasures • of
? fchat monumental city , and hurl-
; ' ang thomselves upon tho
r * " camp of Don Enrique , es
tablished in the Cignrrales , thev
ihad wrought blood } ' havoc amid tho
besieging host. To prevent the re
petition of such sallies Don Enrique
fdetermined to destroy the bridge of
'jSan Martin , which , as has already
Ibeen said , was the noblest of the
anany that from tho girdle of the city
* ol martyrs , of councils , and of eava-
Sliers. But what value have artistic
< or historic monuments in the eyes of
fthe ambitious politicians whose
vdream i * to bury a dagger in the
Tbreast of a brother , that they may
< aent themselves in the throne he oc
cupies ? Well known it is that the
• Cigarrales of Toledo , to whose fame
iso much has been contributed by
"Tirso and other great Spanish poets ,
• • consist of multitudes of villas and
country-houses , with their lovely
gardens and fruitful orchards , all
sshut in by hedges.
, One night the leafy branches of
hese trees were lopped off by the
• -soldiers of Don Enrique , and piled
supoii the bridge of San Martin. The i
idawn Tvas beginning to open , when a '
: glow of wondrous brilliance lit up the
• devastated gardens , the waves of the
Tajo , the rains of the palace of Don I
SBpdrigo , and the little Arabian tower
reflected in the waters of the river ,
-at whose foot , so history hath it , the
'daughter of Don Julian was bathing
• "when the ill-fated king set eyes upon
l&er fateful beauty. An immense fire
Kblazed on the bridge on San Martin ,
and the cracking of the massive car
avan beams , wrought with all the skill
' ? the chisel which created the mar-
wels of the Alhambra , seemed the
fnfclfui plaint of art crushed by brute
brce. Toledanos , awakened by the
. . /sinister glow , ran to save their be-
/ lloved bridge from the imminent ruin
-which menaced it , but they
* .ran futilely , for a frightful
• 4jrash that resounded lugubri-
, -ously through the hollows of the
j "Tajo told them that the bridge stood
S caa longer. When the rising sun
.gilded the domes of the imperial city
"the girls who went to fill their jars
-with the cool and crostalline water
• of the river turned homeward again
with the vessels empty ai.d their
> liearts full of sorrow and indigna-
tion , for .the current of the Tajo ran
turbid and boiling , carrying on its
nwhirHng waves the ruins of the bridge
Martin which still smok-
• -of an , were -
vltng.
'v his act of vandalism roused to
tfirry the indignation of the Tole-
danos , who saw thus cut off their
conly direct passage to the paradise-
Hike Cigarrales , which they had in-
Iherited from the Moors , together
vwith tho Moorish passion for groves
: aa5 gardens. The valor of the citi-
awns , which had grown feeble , gained
unexpected vigor , and ere many days
_ _ -ihey &ad blotted out the camp of
* VTcsstamara , the blood of whose
soldiery ran in torrents over the
tCigarrales.
Many years had passed since the
ifratricide of Montiel destroyed the
Abridge of San Martin. Kings and
. * iarehbishops had exerted all their
powers to have it replaced by an
otherwhich , should be its equal in
strength aud beauty. But the geni1
ms and > endeavor of the best architects
"Christain and Moorish , had not been
Lble to gratify the ardent wishes of
' .the Toledanos , for the rapid current
of the river always swept away founj
< dations , piles , and stagings before
jfche placing of tho gigantic arches ,
IDou Pedro Tenorio , one of the great i
archbishops to whom Toledo owes j
• almost as much as to her kings , sent
jprorlamations to almost every city
• and village of Spain , calling for archi- '
stects to rebuild the bridge of San j
Martin. 1
One day a man and a woman , en1 1
fcirely unknown , entered Toledo by j
, he Cambron gate , and , after inspect- i
ing the ruins of the bridge , they hired ]
a house close by , and shortly there1 1
after the man betook himself to the :
-archiepiscopal palace. The arch- i
ifjishop , surrounded at the moment -
ifcy cavaliere and prelates , was overj j
jfoyed at the arrival of an architect , j
immediately gave him audience , and <
" welcomed the stranger kindly. i
"My lord , " said the new arrival , <
• "my name , no doubt unknown to
; you , is Juan de Arevalo. I am an j
-architect , and I am brought here by j
; -ypur proclamantion summoning. . „ i
3uch. " ]
"Do you understand the difficulties 1
comprised in rebuilding the bridge of 1
- 45an Martin , friend ? " <
"Id © , but I believe myself capable i
ofovcrcoming them. " 1
-"Where have you studied architec- 1
* are ? " J
I "At Salamanca. " 1
i "And what works testify to your ]
fcffl ? " 1
' "None whatever. " Noting the \
frown on the face of the archbishop , ?
fche stranger hastened to add : "I i
ras a soldier in my youth , my lord ; i
I ibufcloaving the profession of arms I '
& $
i
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"
devoted myself lo architccturo , and
if on firm and well proportioned jrile
attests my knowledge , it is that for
the sake of bread I have relinquished
to others the credit of more than
one edifice .of my construction ncro-s
tho Tonnes and the Duero. And fcr
tho rest , I offer you my life in pledge
of my competency. "
"liow so ? you speak in riddler.
You must know that men are no
longer put to death for failure to
perform tho conditions of a prom
"
ise.
"Aj'e , true , my lord ; but when the
main arch of the bridge should Lo
completed tho place of its architect's
on the keystone , and if the arch prove
false and fall , its builder would fall
with it. "
"That offer is surely fair , " said the
archbishop , "as a proof of your ear
nestness and sincerity. Let the work
be begun to-morrow. "
Juan de Arevalo hastened to tho
humble dwelling , in whose embrasur
ed window sat watching tho woman
who had accompanied him to Toledo ;
a woman still j'oung and beautiful ,
notwithstanding her face bore the
traces of vigils and privations.
"Catnlina ! my Cntalina ! " exclaimed
the architect , embracing his wife
fondly , "among these monuments
that glorify Toledo there will be one
that will transmit to posterity the
name of Juan de Arevalo. "
No longer could tho Toledanos ,
approaching the Tajo over escarped
rocks and masses of ruins , exclaim ,
"Here was the bridge of San Martin ! "
for already the1 new bridge reared
itself in shapely proportions upon
the rent foundations , now mad1
solid , of the ancient structure. The
archbishop and other wealthy Tol
edanos were showering rich gifts up
on the fortunate and skillful archi
tect who had succeeded in throwing
the three great arches of the bridge ,
in spite of the gigantic daring of the
work and the furious currents of the
river.
On the eve of the day of San YJde-
fonso , patron saint of the city , Juan
de Arevalo informed the archbishop
that his task was completed , saA'ing
only the removing of the scaffolding
from the three arches. It was a
perilous test the taking down
of the complicated system
of heavy iron scaffolding
which braced the enormous mass of
delicately carved timbers ; but the
calmness with which the architect
awaited tho issue , which lie promised
to meet standing on the central key
stone , filled those about him with
confidence. With proclamations and
pealing of bells was announced for
the following day the solemn bene
diction and dedication of the bridge ,
and the Toledanos , from the heights
commanding the vale of the Tajo ,
contemplated with joyous emotion
the beloved Cigarralels that for .years
had been sad , lonely , almost de
serted , and .which were now to recov
er their old-time beauty and anima
tion.
tion.Toward
Toward nightfall Juan de Arevalo
climbed upon the scaffolding of the
central ' arch to see that all was in
readiness : for the morrow's ceremony.
Meanwhile , he was gayly singing. All
at once the song died on his. lips , the
light faded from his face , and sor
rowfully he descended , and
slowty j took his way homeward.
His wife Catalina came forth to meet
him , full of love and contentment ;
but a frightful pallor overspread her
face at the sight of the despairing
countenance ' of her husband.
"Oh , Father in Heaven ! " she cried ;
"what is it , then , my dear one ? Art
thou ill ? "
"Ill no ! dead yes in hope , in
power ; , in honor ! Aye ! in life itself !
for : I will not survive the dishonor
of ' to-morrow. Nay. the only shred
of ' honor I can wrest from fate will be
mine but in dying ! "
"No ! no ! " cried Catalina ; "Juan ,
thou dreamest ! Thy great excess of
labor has deranged thy thought , my
dear ( one. Come hither , let me call
the leech and heal thee ! "
"Not so it is the truth I tell thee.
When I was the most sure of success ,
most confident of triumph , now on
the eve of the test , I have discovered
an error in my calculation that to
morrow : will bury in the Tajo the
bridge and the unfortunate that un
successfully ' planned it. "
The bridge may fall , beloved , but
thou shalt not go with it. On my
knees 1 Iwill entreat the archbishop
to ' exempt thee from that horrible
promise. ] "
"And if he yield , then will I not ac
cept < the absolution. I care not for
life 3 without honor. "
"Now I swear that thou shalt lose
nor i life nor honor ! " murmured Cata
lina , softly , yet with infinite resolu
tion.
It was already almost dawn. The
cocks < were crowing. Catalina seemed
to 1 sleep , and her husband , soothed
in j spite of himself by her.calm de
meanor ] , at last fell into a fitful ,
feverish slumber , that tvas full of
nightmare horrors. Catalina arose ,
as silent in her motions as the pass
ing of a shadow , and , opening a win-
dow looked out on the vale of the
Tajo. No sound was heard but the
murmuring current of the river and
the wind that whistled through
the timbers of the scaffolding
at the bridge. A dense and
sombre pall of cloud over
hung the city , and from its gloomy
bosom darted , now and then , light
ning rays of terrible brilliance that
blinded the beholder. As yet no rain
was falling ; and the terror of the im
pending storm seemed concentrated
in the thick palpable darkness , the
ominous brooding silence , and the
sultry , breathless thickness of the
elose atmosphere.
Closing the window the wife of the
architect caught up an unextin
guished brand that smoldered still
on the hearthstone. Out into the J
night she went , and , for all the pitchy j
blackness that marked that last
black hour before the day should (
quicken she sought not to guide her
steps by the light of the fire-brand ,
but rather to conceal its gleam with. ,
the folds of her raiment , as she bur- ]
ried over the broken and littered way '
to the river , and with pain and ]
peril climbed upon the planks of :
the staging. Below her the (
wind shrieked among the timbers , ;
and the river roared and bellowed as :
it hurled itself upon the opposition \
of the piles , and Catalian shuddered.
Was it for the solitude and the dark-
mmm mm mmmmMJmiMmmmamm mmmWimmmmmmwmmmmtm m'mmmmwmmmmnmmm
ricsB ? for tho danger of losing her
footing and tumbling headlong ? or
because she realized that those about
her , overlooking tho sacrifice of af
fection , would see in her movements
only tho odious deed of a criminal ?
She recovered her calmness with
an eifort , shook until it burst into a
blazo in the blast tho torch that un
til now she had hidden , and applied
it to tho. lighter braces of thostaging.
The resiuous wood caught with a
vigorous flame , and , fanned by the
wind , leaped abroad , and climbed
with terrible rapidityup the scaffold
ing.Not
Not loss swiftly , by the light of the
spreading fire , Catalina recrossed the
dangerous path she had trodden , and
reached her home and her chamber
while her husband was still sleeping.
Ify this time tho massive sleepers of
the bridge of San Martin were crack
ing. A little latter a dull and pro
longed murmur was heard through
out the city , and from a hundred bel
fries tolled the ominous fire-alarm ,
to which lugubrious signal ensued a
crash that called from the Toledanos
the same cry of distress that they
had uttered whenthebridgesuccumb-
ed to the vandal attack of Don En
rique the Bastai'd.
Juan do Arevalo awoke with a
species of spasm. Catalina was at
his side , apparently sleeping. Juan
clothed himself hurriedly , and , as he
reached the street , his heart leaped
with joy as he realized that the fire
had obliterated the proof of his faulty
judgment.
The archbishop and the Toledanos
attributed the fire to a bolt
from heaven , and the sorrow
they felt for their own loss
was tempered by the sympathy felt
for the architect , whom they deemed
to have seen the results of his labor
destroyed even in the hour of triumph ;
and the architect himself , who was a
pious soul , of a profound faith in the
protection of heaven , was devout in
the same conviction.
As for Catalina she assured her
husbanfl that she was entirely of the
same opinion , and , as women are
rarely guilty of falsehood , surely so
venial a lie may be forgiven to one
who lmd saved the honor and the life
of her husband.
The conflagration only retarded
for a year the triumph of Juan do
Arevalo , for a twelvemonth later , to
a day , on the fete of San Yldefonso ,
the Toledanos crossed the bridge of
San Martin to their beloved Gigarra-
les , and the successful builder of the
structure was the boast of the occa
sion , and the honored guest at the
banquet spread in joyous celebra
tion.
* n
A Daring Feat.
From the Atlanta Constitution.
DockCockburn , a moonshiner from
Murray county , escaped from the cus
tom house at the peril of his life. He
was sitting in the little prisoners'
room on the third floor in a group of
moonshiners. The door was locked.
All at once Cockburn sprang to his
feet and went to a small window
which overlooks Marietta Street at a
height of 100 feet. He raised the
k 1i. and stepping out on the granite
c ing , which is hardly six inches
wide , and straightening himself
against the side of the building , with
his face to the wall , moved slowly
along the perilous path. The slight
est misstep would have hurled him
from his dizzy height to the flagstone
lelow a mangled mass ! The coping
pctends to the balcony , distance
jf about ten feet. He made the
trip in safely , and , raising his
left leg with the greatest care ,
stepped over the Avail of the balcony ,
walked into the hall , down the stair
way , and got aAvay. The court was
in session at the time , but Cockburn
was not missed until an officer hap
pened to look into the little room to
see if the prisoners were all right.
Of course no one dreamed that any
sane man would dare death in the at
tempt to tread the coping to the bal
cony. Cockburn is the same man Avho ,
in 1883 , jumped from a car Avindow
near Marrietta Avhile the train was
making thirty miles an hour , rolled
down an embankment.and madegood
his escape into the Avoods. He is 29
years of age and weighs 18G pounds.
He has the agility of a cat , the tough
ness of a lightwood knot , and the
nerAre of an iron man. Dock has.been
brought to laAV a number of times
and he feared a heaA'y sentence so
he risked his life in getting aAvay.
The Age of Speculation.
This is an ageof speculation. Thou
sands crowd around the stock-ticker
every day ; thousands more watch the
grain gambling ; all the pool rooms
are filled with men and youths whose
faces show how often the right horses
do not Avin. All the lotteries , all the
policy shops , all the gambling dens
haATe their victims , and the supply is
undiminishingly large. The poor
sheep are sheared , and are sent , pov
erty-stricken , to do the best they can ;
but other sheep come tumbling into
the pitfalls , and the gambfers roll up
their bank accounts and drh/e their
fast horses , and wonder why anybody
complains of hard times. The mania
of speculation is ruinous to correct
business methods. It unsettles a
man , makes him inconsitent and A-a-
cilitating , injures his usefulness as a
straightforward worker and destroys
his steady principles and honest pur
poses. Young men starting out in
life should avoid it as they would a
curse. < Baltimore American.
.
in toi a
.Embroidery in Men's Dress.
It is probable that embroidery will
soon play a promient part in men's
dress. Thus far ithas only shown *
itself in connection Avith dress vests ,
which are embroidered Avith a degree
of elaboration depending upon the
taste and the pocketbook of the
wearer. The coming fall will , how
ever , witness the introduction of em
broidery coats , vests and trousers. ?
Thus far none of these garments have
been made up in America , but the
materal has been made forthem , and '
considerable quantities of West of !
England cloths have been sent to
Paris to bo embroidered to the order
of leading New York tailors , in pat
terns for vest , coat and trousers.
Pittsburg Bulletin.
- ' " ' - . 7 , -
r
. . . . .
II..WMIWM lit l 1 I.IWllHMMWMMlH.1.11
AJiOie-Soiisrloa ATlfe.
Wo have boon lovcr for forty yenvf ,
OIi , donr clipt'kp. ftulodnntl worn with tears ; *
"Wlintnn i-loqwut i-tory of love yo tclll
Your low. * aro dead , yet I lovo youlll
Oh , jinlo brow , sln-ined in soft , nil very linir ;
Crowned with Iife'n sorrows , and lined with
eare ,
Letmeruad by tho light of the stare uhovo
Those , dear , leeords of faithful love.
Ah. fond j fond eyes of my own true wife !
Yo have shown so clear through my cliecK-
eied life !
.Ye have shed such joy on its thorny way
That I cannot think yo aro dim to-day.
Worn liitlu hands that have toiled so long ,
Patient and loving , and bravo and strong ;
Ye will never tire , ye will never rest ,
Until you are i'ionmmI on my darling's
breast.
Oh , waim heart , throbbing so rlobo to mine !
Time only strengthens sueh lovo as thine ;
And proves that tho holiest love doth last
When bummernnd beauty and youth are
past.
Quiver.
l _ $ i O i li 11
SHATTERED IDOLS.
My poor Leila ! is there nothing I
can do for you ? " asked Margaret
Hammond pityingly. asshebentoA'er
her sick friend.
Both girls Avere young , but in all
other respects no stronger contrast
could be imagined.
Leila Norton Avas a frail little
creature , Avith fluffy yellow hair , a
fair complexion and baby-blue eyes.
Nature seemed to have designed her
to pose as the type of those Avomen
whose clinging dependence is so al
luring to the protecting tenderness
of many men.
Margaret Hammond , on the con
trary , had a quick , decided Avay of
moving and speaking , Avhich indicat
ed independense of character and
opinion of her own. Her clear gray
eyes showed intellect and soul , while
they sei'Ared to make interesting a
rather plain face. She was tall and
slender , but not graceful , and her
chief beauty was a mass of Ava\'y ,
dark brown hair.
She Avas paying a visit to Leila ,
when the latter became seriously ill ,
and Margaret at once installed her
self as chief nurse.
"Tell me , " she repeated , "is there
nothing I can do for you ? "
Leila turned toAvards her Avith eyes
like dewy forget-me-nots.
"Oh , ' ' she sobbed , "if you Avould
only Avrite to John ! "
"Certainly , and what shall I say ? "
"Oh , I don't know. Say I'm sick
and I send my love. It is such a
pity you don 't know John. He is so
nice. "
Margaretsmiledand said : Ibelieve
girls usually admire their own
lovers , but Avhat do you mean by
'nice * ? " Tell me some of his character
istic traits. "
Leila pouted. "He is not 'charac
teristic' at all. He is just lovely , and
he says the sweetest things about
"
me
"Of course , but I know about you ,
and what I am trying to find out
is about him. "
"And I am trying to tell you , but
you Avon 't lot me. I don'tknoAV how-
to discribe him , and yes ! He is
'characteristic' in one thing , for he
AA'iU not have his picture taken , so I
have none to sIioav you. "
"XeAer mind , I have already
painted him to suit myself , and now
I am readv to write if you will dictate
the letter. "
"Oh , make it anote , and you knoAv
Avhatto say. "
So Margaret wrote as folloAvs :
"My dear Mr. Lessing My friend , Miss
Norton , has reqested me to infom you ol
her serious illness , whieh deprived her of the
pleasure of writing to you. We hope she will
be better in a few days , when she will speak
for herself and express toyou ; , more eloquent
ly than I can , the love whieh she wished me
to bend.
"Sincerely your friend's friend ,
"Mahgaket Hammond. "
This note Avas received by Mr. Les
sing in a Western city , and the return
mail brought to Leila a letter over
flowing Avith sympathy and love. He
sent kind regards to Miss Hammond ,
and begged that she Avould be his
friend also , and write to him daily
during Miss Norton's illness.
Quite a correspondence followed for
the fair invalid was sure "John"
Avould be unhappy if he did
not know the details of each day's
conA-alescence , but in the course
of a Aveek or two her health Avas fully
restored , and after an affectionate
farewell , Margaret returned to her
own home.
* * # *
How many changes take place in
ten yeajs ! Not only those caused by
death , but the ineA-itable changes of
life. Youth is transformed into ma
turity , and how many of its loves
and friendships are discarded as out
grown garments.
But the friendship of Margaret and
Leila has Avithstood the test of time ,
though the loA'e of Leila and John
has long been a dream of the past.
Leila's heart now thrills Avith other
hopes , and she is soon to be a happy
bride. She is making a visit to Mar
garet the last one before her mar
riage. : She is but a little changed ,
has still the same Avinning , childlike
face and figure.
Margaret has become thinner , a few
threads of gray * rleam through her
beautiful hair , and her manner with
strangers has a touch of primness.
She has many friends , but is still un
married.
"Leila , " said she one day , "Avhat
became of John Lessing ? "
• 'I believe he Avent farther West.
How strange his name sounds ! I
have not thought of him for years , j
and Avere once so devoted to each ;
other. He used to sin r me such a .
[
pretty song about"Thine * eyes so .
blue and tender. " Oneerse was •
something like this :
Thy lips are like the roses
Under an azure sky ,
Allured by their marvelous sweetness
How can I pass them byl
and justlthere he always " ? kissed me. -
Poor fellow ! he felt dreadful when I \
broke the engagement. He said he
could never love again , but here
comes the postman. I wonder if he ;
has a letter for me from Clarence. "
There proA'ed to be one , and Leila <
was soon so absorbed in it that she •
did not notice Margaret was also
reading a letter.
>
t
Presently Leila looked up , with a
smile of satisfied vanity , and started
Avith surprise to see tho expression of
Margaret's face.
"What is it ? " she asked.
"Listen , " said Margaret , "this let
ter is from John Lessing ! "
"My dear Miss Hammond Pardon tho lib
erty ! take in addressing you , but oneo you
acted tho part ol a friend to mo and convinc
ed me that you have a warm heart. "
"Do you not lomember that nbpitt ton
years ago 3-011 wrote me n , number of bright
letters for your friend , Miss Norton ?
"You and she were great friends in those
days , and I havo often wondered what has
become of you. Will you not be kind to mo
again and write ? I have heard no newsfrom
Eastern friends for many years.
"Several years ago I married , and I had a
happy homo until two years ago , when my
wife died. I havo one little girl.
"I havo addressed you by your maiden
name , though 1 am uncertain "whether you
still bear it.
"A prompt reply will greatly oblige ,
"Very truly you is ,
"John Lessing. "
Margaret raised her eyes all glow
ing with lijrht. "Only think , " she
said , softly , "he still remembers ! "
"Yes , " simpered Leila , "he said ho
could neArer forget me. When you
Avrite to him about me , don't tell him
I am going to be married , and see
Avhat he says in his next letter. "
A strange pang shot through Mar
garet and drowned the light in her
eyes.
"I shall Avrite Avhate\'er you Avish , "
she replied , and laying down tho let
ter began to speak of other things.
As soon as she Avas alone , sho re
read tho letter , carefully Aveighing
each word. "Yes , " sho thought ,
"Leila Avas right. It is of her he
wishes to know. Hoav could I be so
foolish as to think otherwise ! He
was her lover , and he could not even
think of me AA-ithout first thinking of
her. "
The next day sho Avrote :
"My dear Mr. Lef-sing Your letter reached
me yesterday , and was it not a strange coin
cidence that Miss Norton should be here at
tho time ?
"I remember writing letters for her during
her illness , and it is a pleasure to me that I
can again serve her and you.
"She is quite well and time has touched her
lightly.
"She sympathizes with you in the loss of
your wife , and she was pleased to hear of
you once more. Sho has continued to livo at
tho old home inhcrusuul sunnylight iiearted
fashion , and she and I are as 'gieat friends'
as wo were 'in days agone. '
"My name is the only thing about me
which time is powerless to change.
"Very truly youis ,
"Maiioaiikt Hammond.
She sent the letter Avith a grim feel
ing of satisfaction , and tried hard
to convince herself that she did not
look for an answer , but the reply
came promptly , and ran as follows :
"My dear Miss Hammond I cannot com
prehend how it was that I bo signally failed
to make myself understood.
"It is of yourself I wish to know. Your
breezy letters attracted mo long ago , and
your persistent way of ignoring yourself has
piqued my curiosity.
"Will you noi < be a friend to me for my own
sake ? Very truly yours ,
"John Lkssi.no. ' '
Margaret's feelings were a mixture
of triumph and interest.
Letter after letter AArent to and fro.
John received and read each one AA'ith
relish , soliloquizing : "A plucky little
woman , lots of grit , rosy cheeks , I
expect , and snapping black eyes. "
While Margaret read his epistles Avith
no less interest , and the "ideal"
loA-er hidden AA-ithin her heart letter
by letter assumed the name of John
Lessing.
At last he wrote that he Avas com
ing East and Avould be ixt her home
on a certain day.
It was like the kiss of the prince
upon the lips of the Sleeping Beauty !
The "Ideal" lover awoke. He rose
to his full manly height , his tender
broAvn eyes lost their look of dreami
ness , his handsome bearded face
beaming with expression , and Mar
garet prepared ta greet him.
She fingered the piano AA'ith a
caressing touch , and dreamed of
playing accompaniments for "him. "
She brought out her favorite books
Avith the belief that they were "his"
favorities also.
She had placed a bouquet of flow
ers upon the piano , and Avas about
to go upstairs to change her dull
gray morning goAvn for a more be
coming garment Avith a dash o
color , when a man Avas ushered into
the parlor.
Hearing footsteps she turned round
and from her serene height of "fiA-e
feet five" she looked down upon a
polished bald pate decorated with a
lambrequin-like fringe of tawny red
hair. Then the details of watery blue
eyes , a Avide mouth bristling with a
scrubby moustache , and a short , fat
figure forced themseh-es upon her.
"Well ? what is it you wish ? " she
asked politely.
"I Avant to see Miss Margaret Ham
mond. "
"I am Miss Hammond. "
He quailed beneath the calm ques
tioning gaze of her clear eyes , and
lost his usual sAvnvity ofmanner.
"If you are , you might ask me to
sit doAA-n. I am John Lessing.
"Oh , no ! I mean , yes ! sit down , beg
your pardon. "
"As you didn't know me , " said he
seating himself , "I suppose I am not
the sort of a looking ; fellow you took
me for. If so , I can return the com-
pliment. "
"Thanks. You certainly exceed
my expectations in many ways.
Did you have a pleasant trip East ? " ]
"Oh , yes , pleasant enough. Had 1
fine weather all the way through. " (
"It has been a delightful Autumn. " *
The A-isible barrier of strange faces j
had alienated and paralyzed their ]
minds. j
They sat and solem nly prosed the ]
dreariest commonplaces for a few 3
minutes , A\-hen John suddenly re- <
membered "a business engagement , " j
and departed.
He walked thoughtfully to the
hotel , went to his room , threw him
self into an armchair , and began to
whistle dolefully and out of time some- J
thing which an imaginative eari
might recognize as "The Girl I Left - \
Behind Me. " Finally he broke off 1
with a total disregard of the key- •
note , and exclaimed : <
"By Jove ! an ugly old maid ! " j
* * * * * * •
As for-po or Margaret , she rushed up- <
stairs and cried o\-er the ruins of her <
wrecked romance as heartily as ]
though sho had been ten years j
younger. i
Although they never saw each j
other again , Margret always hated j
John Lessing , for at his hands the 1
winsom lover of her dreams had met
a cruel death. American Cultivator. ,
HOUSEHOLD. .
A wor on plant culture. Don't
OA'erwuter.
Hang up tho brooms ; they will
Inst longer.
Tho best thing to clean tin-ware is
common soda ; rub on briskly Avith a
damp cloth , after Avhich wipo dry.
To protect children's clothing from
fire ; Add ono ounce of alum to tho
last Avater used in rinsing clothes.
This renders them uninflammable.
A simple remedy for a disordered
stomnch is salt and water. Allow a
teaspoonful of salt to a glass of wa
ter , and drink.
A little borax put in the water in
which scarlet napkins and red-bord
ered toAVels are to bo washed Avill
prevent them from fading.
A peck of powdered charcoal in
shalloAV dishes in a collar will absorb
much of the bad smell , and a bushel
of lime much of its dampness.
A tallow candle or piece of tallow
Avrapped in tissue paper and laid
among furs or other garments Avill
prevent the ravages of moths.
NeArer treat superiors with servility
or inferiors with arrogance. Speak
as kindly to a . .day laborer as to one
occupying a high position. Good
Housekeeping.
Horse-radish cut in thin stripes
length-Avise and a dozen or more of
these stripes placed on the top of
each keg of pickles Avill keep them
from becoming stale or mouldy.
To clean porcelain saucepans fill
them half full of hot Avater , and put
in the Avater a tablespoonful poAV-
dered borax and let it boil. If this
doosnot remove all the stains scour
Avell Avith a cloth rubbed Avith soap
and borax.
Never hang a picture so that it
Avill be necessary to mount a step-
ladder to A-iew it. Hang it so that
the center Avill bo about five feet and
a half from the floor , a little below
the line of vision of a person of ave-
age height.
A physician in tho American Mag
azine , illustrating the evil custom of
talking to an invalid about his
pains , says that once he requested a
mother to mark a stroke upon a
paper each time that she asked a
sick daughter how she Avas. The
next day to her astonishment , she
made 109 strokes. A three-months'
visit aAvay from home Avas pre
scribed.
Keep the Coffe-pot Clean. Not
eAren milk-pans require more scrupu
lous care than the coffee-pot. It
may bo rinsed after each time of
using , and yet be far from clean.
There is an oily property about
coffee Avhich adheres in spite of rins
ing out , and the pot must be daily
washed ( not rinsed ) scalded and
dried.
Analysis of steamed and boiled
potatoes haA'e been published which
seem to establish the fact that the
former are more nutritious than tho
latter. In the process of boiling , the
vegetables giA-e up considerable por
tions of nutritious salt , Avhile they
also take up more Avater than Avhen
steamed , and become proportionally
Aveaker.
Here are a feAV points to bo con
sidered in cake-making. AVhun you
paper a squ-ire tin , cover the ends
first , then lay in a strip to paper
the bottom and sides , as using only
one piece makes too many Avrinkles.
For a round tin , cut out a circle and
slash doAvn the sides. This will be
found to lie more smoothly than
folding. Ahvays turn a cake out on
to a cloth , as it is liable to stick
when hot to a board or a plate.
Angel cake should be baked in a mod-
erate oven and handled about like
! sponge cake. When cake is mixed
run a knife around the edge of the
dish and mix in thoroughly all the
bits of dough. If they are scooped
into the baking tin Avithout thorough
mixing , theywill makea heavy streak
in the cake. When making anything
with sour milk , add the soda last or
put it in last , so as to saAe all the
effer\-escence. ; .
' (
Jleiul A'our Own Tinware.
Housekeepers may often find it con1
venient to know how to keep their
tinware in order , besides it helps to ,
economize. 1 For the benefit of such
we will say it is easier and just as
satisfactory [ to solder such things
yourself as to pay a traA-eling tinker <
two : prices formendingthem ; says an <
exchange. ' Take a sharp knife and J
scrape J the tin around the leak until j
it is bright , so that the solder "will i
stick , then sprinkle on a little pul- f
verized rosin , lay your solder on the <
hole ; and with your soldering iron 1
melt it on. Do not haA'e the iron too J
hot or the solder Avill not adhere to • '
that. After two or three trials you f
.can do a job that you Avill feel proud t
of. If you do not own a soldering 1
iron , procure one by all means : when
hard pressed use a smooth piece of
iron. Anything is better than stop- ]
ping leaking pans with beeswax or
rags. Your pans should be perfectly (
dry when you commence Avork. Try g
it , young housekeeper. (
I
Work no Hnnltlilp. r
rr
Thereis no hardship in true work.
It is as far removed from drudgery I
as is the free moAvment of clouds in ,
the upper air from the cheap imitaf
tions of shy scenery on the stage of j
a theater. True Avork has something
of play in it ; it is the joyous o\-er-
fiow of a full nature , the natural out
going of a full heart that cannot
contain its own life , but must find t
speech for itselfinmaniiold activities , t
It is only after we drive ourselves I
after the natural impulse is spent , J
when we urge ourselves to the task r
after the joy of it is gone , that work f
becomes monotonous , and then a
wearisome , and finally dangerous , t
Working daj-s are spent in dealing t
with human adaptations and means 1
4 _ _
Jf J
, f
. . %
and in perfi-eting human skill. Vmft : \
tion days ought to l sjJent it' | |
broken fellowship with truth mi < J % i
beauty. They ai the recurringrfah- 1l' '
baths whieh leave an open road Jj1
heavenward through our years of "fj |
toil. Christian Union. % .
4
> 0t .III Jlrnt Katfri. jf
" t
All the heaA'y work of the world is $ ,
notdono by men avIio eat meat. Tho
itoninn soldiers , who built such won"F |
derful roads and carried a weight of -V & '
armor and luggage that would criihh
farm hand lived "r
the average , on
coai"so brown bread and sour Avine. ,
They Avere temperate in diet , regular ,
in exercise. Tho Spanish peasant \ <
works every day and dances half tho 1
night , yet eats only his black bread , .
onion and watermelon. The Smyrna |
porter eats only a * little fruit and
some pliA'cs , yet he walks off with his .
load of a hundred pounds. Tho '
coolie , fed on rice , is more activo and '
can endure more than the negro fed
on fat The Dietetic Gazette. '
. .
! ! II II
Fearful ltci | > n.nsIblUty of Parents. j
now mindful parents should bo of 1
tho fact that nature decrees they
shall pass to their descendants , as
it Avere , themselves. Those children , • >
or some of those children ' s descend
ants , are sure to contain in their * •
very organisms tendencies , inherited 1
from you , that make it a foregone •
conclusion that in some respects thoy '
will resemble you , e\'on if they never
see you. If , for instance , you are the '
slave of drink , of the tobacco habit ,
or of profanity , you may be morally *
certain that these vices will crop out
somewhere among your descendants ,
if you luive any. Thoinevitablestho ,
subtlety and the infinitenesss ot a !
man's or woman's influence , regard- i
ed in this light are almost dazing. ,
Boston Jour , of Health.
Slier I IT Steele's Tix.
From the PittHburj ? CommerriaMiuzetto.
A remarkable case of mistaken
identity occurred recently in tho Cin
cinnati court. William J. Long was j
arrested during the centennial on a (
charge of robbing Mrs. Comerford of
§ 300 at the West Penn depot. While ;
incarcerated in jail Long allowed his '
beard to grow , presumably with the •
object of changing his appearance.
When placed in the dock Long sat
Avith his hand on his chin , concealing
his beard , and the close resemblance
the prisoner bore to Deputy Sheriff
Steele , Avho by the way , is a remark- 1
ably handsome man with a inagnifi- I
cent mustache , was commented upon
by the court officials.
The case Avas called for trial , and \
Long took a seat behind his counsel
at the table , Avhile Sheriff Steele jj
busied himself about his duties in the I
court-room. Mrs. Comerford took
the stand and related the incident of
the theft. District Attorney Porter j
asked the Avitness if she could recog
nize the thief. "Yes , " she replied.
"wli3r there goes the man now who
stole my money ; he's leaA-ing the
court-room , " pointing to deputy
Sheriff Steele , avIio • ' • • as making a
trip to the jail for a prisoner.
The deputy sheriff was surprised \
to hear himself accused of such a
crime , but Mrs. Comerford was posi
tive that she Avas correct in her iden
tification. Mr. Steele thereupon 1
took the witness stand , and eflectu- <
ally dispelled any belief that might
linger in the minds of the lobby that ,
ho was in the habit of varying
his official duties with raids upon
the pocket of ladies. Long was then ;
ordered to stand up Avhere Mrs. ,
Comerford could see him , and , after
a close inspection , she decided that j
she had been mistaken and that
Long Avas the man who had robbed \
her. ]
her.The
The prisoner appeared to enjoy the
perplexity ; of Mrs. Comerford , and
probably ] expected that it might re
J sult faArorabl3' to him , but in this he
Avas mistaken , as he avus convicted
and remanded to jail for sentence.
Tain of Her Eyes and Lost Them.
From the Los Angeles Times. j
About a year ago one of the most
lo\-ely ] girls in the state lived at 40
Orange | AA-enue , in this city. A pair
of ( large liquid blue eyes set off a face t
that Avould put any picture to shame ,
and her form Avas simply perfect.
The young lady was highly educated ,
and possessed all the qualities that
go ) to make up a society belle , Her
parents are Avell-to-do and she has
Avanted , for nothing since she was old
enough to prattle. But she had one ,
fault and that fault has proved her J
undoing. It is called A-anity. She ]
fairly worshiped her own eyes and
did everything in her power to make ,
them more beautiful than they were.
She used numerous drugs before she
found Avhat she wanted. This last
drug < made her eyes sparkle like
diamonds , and the used it to such an
extent that her right eye began to , '
shriA'el. This brought her senses '
and the family physician was called
in. But he came too late , and in
formed thepoorgirl thatshe must lose
one of her eyes sure and probably
both. The right eye w&s taken out
some time ago and she has lost all
sight in the left and will be blinded
for life. It is one of thesaddest cases
that Avas eA-er brought to light in ,
this city.
One of the Penalties of Curiosity.
From the Xew York Herald. '
Curiosity has its penalties. The '
other day , out West , a bright , hand- ,
some auburn-haired youth saAv a tin , '
can in the path. He kicked it , not
knowing that it contained nitro.
glycerine. That handsome youth , '
satisfied his curiosity entirely , com- ,
pletly ; to much so. He left suddenly ;
indeed , he left in several directions at '
the same-time , and it is rather doubt
ful if he will eA-er lie able to "pull
himself together" again.
He Had > o Fever. j
Dr. Holmes relates the following ,
to illustrate the significance of small J
things in the sick room : "Will you * j
haA'e an orange or a fig ? " said Dr. '
James Jackson to a fine little boy j
now grown up to goodly stature. "A
fig , " answered Master Theodore , j
with alacrity. "No fever there. " said ;
the good doctor , "or he would cer- ,
tainly have said an orange. " Her
ald of Health.
!
f