and they promised strict compliance with my
wishes.

“ The men whom I will leave will require shel»
ter; where can they find it?” he continued,
turning to the daughter of the former light—
house—keeper.

“ The vestibule below will accommodate them
if they have beds."

“ They will bring their hammocks, which they
can easily sling; and I will send a quantity of
provisions ashore as I imagine that you are short
of rations.” '

“ Everything we had was burned up with the
house; but, fortunately, 1 had brought some
food here,” pointing to the basket which was
only half-empty.

“ And now, ladies, have you any further com-
mands! for 1 must hasten my return, as 1 risk
my commission every minute that l delay.”

“ One moment, lieutenant, if you please,” in—
terposed Mrs. llarcourt, “ there is something
you can do for us.

“ My brother—lrene, Miss Faulconer’s father——
we have just learned, was murdered in New
York on the morning that we sailed in the Cir-
cassiun.

“ We are very anxious to reach the city.

“ Can you not take us to New London, whence
We can proceed by rail?

“ You would add much to our indebtedness to
you, and—”

“The Hornet, and such poor accommodations
as she possesses are yours, madame, and I am
only too glad to be able to offer them to you.

“ Will you soon be ready?”

“ In ten minutes.”

“ Then I will return to the Hornet, and send
the men and provisions ashore, when you can
come aboard."

“ Can I too ask if you will furnish me trans-
portation, also, lieutenant!” asked Walter.

“ Certainly, sir, certainly; you can escort the
ladies to the vessel.”

In a moment more he had disappeared, and
Mrs. Harcourt, Irene and Carrie had exchanged
farewells, the latter promising to visit them in
New York as soon as was practicable, and shak-
ing hands with Walter, she told them all good-
by. when they departed, leaving her alone.

Below they found the old sailor and his sons,
who were about to leave, and abundant were
the gifts that were forced on them, when they
also left, and entering their boat, were soon far
out at sea, the wind being favorable and their
sail being set.

Finally the soldiers were landed, and the two
ladies, proceeding to the beach, entered the row-
boat and started for the vessel, after thanking
Luke again and again, he determining to remain
for a time at Bell-Point, in case of any new
events; but promising to see them again in the
near future, and assuring Walter that he
would endeavor to find some trace of George
Edgerton the next day.

Getting into the small row-boat which Carrie
used. he rowed alongside of the others until
they reached the cutter, and then lay on his
oars, watching the vessel until she was nearly
out of sight, for evening was coming on, and it
would soon be dark.

As the Hornet steamed off, the commanding
officer called all of the crew aft, and spoke to
t ‘em:

“ My lads,” said he, “ I want to say just a few
words. This trip must be known to no one; the
ends of justice would be defeated were it
known.

“ Have I your promise?”

“ Ay, ay, sir!” was the hearty response from
each and every one.

“Thank you. I know thatI can trust you;
fora truer set of men never trod the decks of
ship. That is all.”

“ Three cheers for Lieutenant Murray 1” shout-
ed some hardy spirit, and they were given with a
will, when the crew dispersed about the deck,
attending to their duties.

Luke lay on his ours as the darkness settled
down over the sea, thinking of those who had
gone with a sigh of regret that his life had not
been cast in their sphere, when he was aroused
from his reflections by a shock which nearly
overturned the frail craft in which he sat, and
in a moment he was seized by half a dozen
rough hands, d ragged into the larger craft,
which had run him down, and stretched in the
bottom of the boat, while in the dark face of
one of his aSsailants he recognized the features
of Captain \Vrake.

llut as he fell he writhed like an eel from the
hands of the wreckers, Sprung to his feet, and
showered a half—dozen blows full in their faces
before they could defend themselves.

But the hand of the chief of the band was
raised and descended like a flash, and the short
cudgel he held fell on Luke’s head with crushing
force, knocking him insensible into the sea
while the chief cried:

“ Two!” as the water ingulfed the body.

CHAPTER XXI-I.
THE WOLF IN SiiEEP’s CLOTHING.

TIIE Hornet steamed steadily on, and in not
many hours arrived at New London, and, sail—
ing up the Thames river, cast anchor near the
city, while the three passengers, unable to rest
quietly on board through anxiety, entered one of
the boats and were soon set ashore; but as Lieu-
tenant Murray, who had been assisting Irene
to climb the somewhat steep steps which led
up to the pier, was descending, his foot slipped
on the ice which covered the planks, and he fell
headlong into the boat below, before he could
catch himself, and striking the thwart was so—
verely out about the forehead, and lay, breath-
ing stertorously, in the bottom of the yaw],
from whenCe he was picked up by the crew,
who idolized their young commander, and care-
fully placed iii the stern sheets, when they
pulled back to the cutter, Mrs. Harcourt, Irene
and Langley proceeding up the pier, uncon-
scious of the accident, they having thanked the
officer and made their adieux to him and left
him standing there watching them as they dis—
appeared in the darkness, while he Sighed
heavily, wondering if he would ever see the
lovely girl again.

When they reached the boat the falls were
booked on and the boat swung up on the daVits,
when the wounded man was carried to his
cabin, where the ship’s surgeon examined his
condition, and shook his head solemnly as_he
found that the blow had resulted in concussxon
of the brain, which would cause grave conse—
quences. .

And so it proved, for not many hours had
passed when the lieutenant was tumbling and
tossing in delirium which weakened his frame
with every paroxysm, while he ever seemed to
be clutching for and grasping after some phan-
tom which continually eluded him and which
he called after in piercing tones; and the name
that was ever on his lips was—Irene!

And she, poor child, was tossing in a restless,
uneasy slumber which was disturbed by dreams
of her father’s frightful end, and in her sleep
she saw the tragedy enacted a thousand times
and in a thousand different ways, the ending,
however, being always the same—a sudden,
swift stab, at gush of blood and death! .

And early the next morning the two ladies
and Langley took the train for New York, and
the lieutenant being seriously wounded and
unconscious the story of the troubles at Bell-
Point was not told, and no relief was sent to
the girl, who was thus forced to attend to the
light alone, although the corporal of the ma-
rines left by Lieutenant Murray offered his ser-
vices and those of his men; yet she would not
leave her charge, which she conSIdered as a
sacred bequest from her father.

The men who were thus left to repel any at-
tacks of‘the wreckers were but Six in number,
yet they were brave young fellows, and though
they knew that the Wreckers greatly outnum—
bered them, they felt no anx1ety, and passed
most of their days in searching about the coast
for some sign of the band, but Wlthout 51100883.
as the entrance through which Luke had passed
was so skillfully dissimulated beneath an appar-
ently impenetrable, tangled mass of low-growd
ing trees and bushes that no trace of it coul
be discerned. _ d

They respected the privacy of the girl. a}!
never ventured into the lantern, which, With

 

 

    

ill

"llllmlm

the aid of sundry conveniences which had been
sent on shore from the “ Hornet,” she had suc-
ceeded in making quite comfortable, and the
sentinel who paced back and forward in front
of the entrance to the tOWer, day and night, in-
variably presented arms when she passed out
during the afternoon to take some necessar
exercise in the way of a brisk walk, so much
did the soldiers respect her, so much did they
sympathize with her in her grief, so much did
they respect her for the bravery she had dis-
played under the trying circumstances of the
past few days.

She could not comprehend-Luke’s absence,
but consoled herself with the thought that per-
haps he had embarked on the cutter, it having
been probably thought best that he should go
to head-quarters and personally make his re-
port, and expecting him to return with the
men who, she thought, would be appointed
to the care of the light—house.

And so several days and nights passed, with-
out anything happening to disturb the dull
monotony of the hours.

But one evening toward dusk, the corporal
who had charge of the little band stepped out
of the t0wcr, saying to the sentinel that he
would walk out a short distance and see that
everything was quiet, and telling the men good-
night, as he might be absent for some time, he
stepped off briskly into the fast-disappearing
twilight, and, descending the cliff, in a few
moments was lost to view, while the darkness
came rapidly down over the sea and land, the
sky being overcast and no light shining from
moon or stars.

Reaching the sands which lined the shore, he
walked cautiously on around the cliff, clad in
his uniform, and with his blue army coat but-
toned li htly around him, for the night air was
cold an piercing.

And as he walked along under the shadow of
the cliff, his eyes strained to catch sight of the
slightest suspicious object, and listening intent-
ly for any sound that might betray the pres-
ence of an enemy, he passed by a thick cluster of
bushes which clung to the cliff just above him,
and when he was just opposite it, two leaping
figures sprung upon him, encircling his arms
and his body, and placing a hand on his lips so
that he could not utter a cry, and in a moment
more he was bound and gagged, and lay help-
less at his captors’ feet, wnile they, stooping,
picked him up by head and shoulders, and,
throwing his cape over his head so as to blind
him completely, began their march, and he
soon realized from the hollow, echoing sound of
their footsteps. from the dampness of the air,
from the dank, earthy smell, that they were
traversing some subterranean passage, and that
he was, in, all probability, in the hands of the
wreckers.

And this conjecture became a certainty when
at length his quick ear caught the hum of
voices, which sounded nearer and nearer, until
suddenly the cape, which covered his face, fell
away, while he was placed on his feet, and, as
soon as his eyes became accustomed to the glare,
he looked around and found himself in the
midst of a number of men and standing in the
center of a vaulted rocky chamber, where
Luke had already been confronted by his cap-
tors.

Captain Wrake occupied his usual seat, and,
waving the pressing crowd back, addressed the
corporal, who returned glance for glance and
scowl for scowl with interest, his gag being re-
moved so that he could converse.

“ What brings you here, sir?”

“ You can answer that question better than I.”

“ How do you mean?"

“ That I am here as a prisoner, brought as
such by some of your men.”

“ You are stationed at the light-house of Bell-
Point, having been landed there by the cutter
Hornet.

“ How many men have you with you?”

“ You seem so well posted regarding my ar-
rival, that it seems surprising that your spies
have not brought you full details.”

“ Have a care. sir, and cease your trifling;
you are in my power, and I will stand no jest-
in !”

g‘All of which is immaterial to me. Seek
your information elsewhere.”

And coolly turning his back on the wrecker
chief he began a survey of the apartment.

But the eyes of Captain Wrake fairly blazed,
and he thundered:

“By the gates of Hades, I will seek it else-
where—in your camp! and the clothes—the uni-
form you wear, shall give me safe conduct, and
be my passport. Take him in yonder,”—.point-
ing to an adjoining apartment—“ and strip him
of that blue suit and bring it hither, with the
overcoat and cap.

“ And make haste.”

In a very short time the two men who had
undertaken this mission returned with the arti-
cles, taking which, Captain lVrake left the large
hall and retired to another room which was
reached by a passage which branched off later-
all .

Arnd presently he returned, when a cry of ad-
miration and astonishment broke from the lips
of all the assistants, for the disguise was almost
perfect, the two men being of about the same
hight and build.

W rake had donned the uniform of the cap-
tured soldier, had shaved ofi? his heavy mus-
tache, and with the visor of the cap pulled down
over his eyes, and the collar of the coat turned
up, looked like the twin brother of the prisoner.

Giving directions relating to the close watch-
ing of the corporal, and motioning to two_ of
his most trusted followers to accompany him,
he started for the exit, the gong_hav1ng rung
out its signal to the sentry, stopping before he
left the cavern to select a long piece of.rope
which was very strong, although exceedingly
light, and this he wrapped about his_ body, un-
der his outer coat. so that it was eaSIly carried
and yet could not be discovered Without a. per-
sonal search. I

He then left the band, ordering them to
await his return, and for all to remain Within
and not venture near the light—house, as any
false move might derange his plans, and fol-
lowed by his two companions, was soon in the
open air, where he hurriedly whispered his in-
structions to them, described his plan, and then
left them lying close under the cliff, just below
the light-house while he, rounding the pomt,
walked along hurriedly until he was nearly op-
posite the tower, when he, climbing the cliff,
walked, hurriedly yet steadily, toward .the fig-
ure whom he saw pacing up and down in front
of the entrance. .

And here his heart failed him for a moment,
for he was struck by the thought that there
might be a countersign, the non-knowledge of
which would betray him; but_it was too late to
hesitate now, so he stepped quickly on, prepared
to spring on the sentry should the latter halt
him. . . . .

But, as his blue uniform was plainly viSible in
the glare cast by the lantern, the soldier sus-
pected nothing and greeted him as be ap-

proached: 2,,

“ Rather late, Corporal Gray; any news.

His voice muffled so by the cloak which was
folded about his threat, that it was unrecog-
nizable, he answered, instantly: _

“ Nothing very important, but I must see Miss

t once.” .
HCAIIIIiSirpaassing by the man,_and_taking care not
to disturb the sleeping soldiers inSide, he hastily
ascended the steps and knocked on the upper
door. when a gentle voice asked:

“ i there?

“ gig-goal Gray, Miss Homer,” responded the
wrecker, taking his clue from the name Elven

‘ the soldier be ow. .
hIEPXh, one moment,” replied the girl, and
shortly afterward tbs door was opened and the

lee cor oral ste e in.
faAs he Entered, llg turned and bolted the door,
then, springing up the few steps that .led Into
the lantern, he threw back the cape which con-
cealed his face, disclosing his features to the as-
tonished girl, while, seizing her about the body.
he placed his hand over her mouth, and hISSEd-

“ Utter a sound, or attempt to escape, and I
will hurl you through the sash to the rocks be-
low!” ‘

 

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
SILENCING A WITNESS.

WHAT they had concluded, was the case, for
the man whom the old fisherman and his sons
had captured had escaped and gained his free-
dom through the aid of Lillian.

Left alone in the vestibule for a moment, she
had stood there untila sound from the closet
attracted her curiosity, and child-like, yet with
none of a child’s fear, she had proceeded to
gratify it. going to the door of the store-room,
and pushing it open, and, standing there, tried
to discover what was within.

“Come in, little one,” came a voice to her.
the wrecker modulating his naturally gruff
tones, so that they sounded soft and caressing.

“Come in, and see if you cannot untie this
cord; for it hurts my arms.”

After hesitating a moment the little girl stole
in cautiously, and, the man groaning to excite
her sympathy, she began to struggle with the
tough knots tied by the skillful fingers of the
old sailor, and as a niariner’s knots are proverbi-
ally easy to untie, although they never slip, she
had soon loosened his wrists, when he performed
a like office for his ankles, and stood erect, a
free man, so far as his bonds were concerned.

Once released he did not hesitate a moment;
but seizing the child and stifling her cries, for she
began to cry and call out when be grasped her
roughly, he. left the tower and hurried away
over the plain, and soon disappeared over the
brow of the cliff, bearing Lillian in his arms.

He was not long in arriving at the tangled
mass of shrubbery which marked the entrance
to the wreckers’ cave, and nearing the sentinel,
{)6 caéled out to him, and was instantly chal-
enge .

“ Who is there?” came the hoarse call from
the guard, emphasized by a sharp click as his
weapon was raised and cocked.

“ It’s me, Ransom,” quickly answered Lillian’s
captor, recognizing the voice of the man who
had captured Luke.

“ An’ who’s me?” growled Ransom.

“ Black Burt.”

“ Oh! Be ye alone?”

6‘ N0. 7’

“ Well,” impatiently returned the sentinel,
“ who’s with ye?”

“The kid.”

“What kid?”

“The girl that the Indian carried off.”

“ Oh, hol Then come on, and hurry up. It’s
amazin’ glad ther Cap ’11 be ter see ye.

“ He’s been a’most crazy sence ther youngster
war carted off by the red-skin.

“ Whar did ye capter her!”

“ Tell ye later,” and the man who called him-
self Burt Black, but whom his comrades had
facetiously dubbed Black Burt, strode past,
and, being identified by Ransom, plunged into
the darkness of the passageway which led to
the main cavern, and, avoiding the trap which
had proven so fatal to Winnemuka, hurried
along through the rock-hewn corridor, until he
reached the main hall where the band was

gathered, listening to the distorted tales of the,

wreckers who had been frightened well-nigh
into insanity by the ghostly apparitions they
had witnessed emerging from the fire and from
the burning building.

But as he entered the voices of all were
hushed and the eyes of the band were turned
upon him, while the captain, leaping to his feet
with an exclamation of delight as Black Burt
held out the child, cried to him:

“Well done, Burt! Ask what reward you
will and on my word you shall have it. I
would rather have yonder brat in my power
than all of these treasures,” with a circular
sweep of his hand.

“She out of my clutches and all my plans
would come to naught; but now—” and he
glared at the shrinking infant as if he would
brain her on the spot.

But as the innocent little child shrunk back
in affright before the demoniac glare of his
baleful eyes, and uttered a low wail of terror,
the young wife of the captain, her heart touched
by this appeal which could not fail to find an
answering chord in every woman’s breast,
sprung forward, crying:

“ For shame, Roy, you shall not terrify this
dainty child!

“ If prisoner she must remain, it shall be un-
der my care: but she shall not be injured or
worried or frightened.

“Come, my little pet, and we will leave this
room, and you shall have something nice to eat
and a good long sleep, for you are tired.”

The soft,‘ gentle tones reassured the little girl,
and taking the hand of her champion, she fol-
lowed her out of the cavern, while Wrake, al-
ready ashamed of his outburst, particularly so
as it had been directed against so inoffensive a
creature, smiled lazily and then said:

“ Very well, Carita; only be careful she does
not escape, for you well know what hinges on
her remaining undiscovered.”

Then as the curtain fell behind the two re-
treating figures, he gave a few orders to the
band, spoke a few cutting, sarcastic sentences
to those who, he said, had been frightened at
their own shadows, and then, calling to two
men who were standing aloof from the others
as though they were new arrivals and compara-
tive strangers, he left the room, and followed
by the two men he had singled out, entered a
small square room, where he seated himself,
while through adoor which was but half covered
by the partially drawn curtain, could be seen
Carita, holding Lillian on her lap and listening
with a sad smile to her childish prattle; for the
child was wide awake, and had become instant-
ly attached to the woman, who caressed her
and who seemed so different from the young
lieutenant who had attacked Luke.
~ The wrecker captain, after looking at the
group for a few moments—for it was a pretty
sight, Carita having donned a soft, clinging
dressing-robe of some blue material which was
most becoming to her, while the magnificence
of the furniture and carpets and other sur-
roundings which adorned this, her private
room, made a fit setting for the two jewels in
the center—turned to the two men and spoke
to them in a low tone, they standing respect.
full before him.

“ on have thoroughly won the reward I
promised you the night I met you, and that,
with what you found in the safe, will enable
you to live comfortably for many years.

“I would advise you to select some foreign
country, and, arriving there, remain for some
time until this affair has blown over.

“It will not be very long: mysterious mur-
ders in New York are soon forgotten.

“ You are sure you left no clew?”

“‘ None at all, captain.

“ But we are pretty well known in the city ”
—with a certain sort of pride at the recollection
that he was a. prominent character—“ and they
will miss us.

“Two and two make four: a disappearance
and a ‘mysterious murder’ can generally be
connected, especially when the missing ones are
suspected of having been connected with other
little matters of the same nature.”

"Very true; and if you leave the country
you must do so secretly, or the police will be
down on you. . _

“ Have you consulted and decided regarding
what you prefer to do?”

“ Well, captain,” returned the former spokes-
man, “ as you say we will have to be a little
long about getting away, and we havedeter-
mined to ask you to allow us to remain here
for a time. .

“No one will suspect us of being here, and
after a while, when things are a. little quieter,
we can leave the country.”

“ No; you cannot remain here.

“It would be dangerous for all of us, and
you must leave in the morning—nOW in fact.”

“ It strikes me, captain, that you are anxious
to get rid of us and hope to see us hanged, for
it is ten to one that we would be captured it
we were seen. Our description has probably
been telegraphed all over the country before
this.

“ And if we were captured, and if our necks
were in danger, why—well, you know that a
secret is often worth more than a man’s life,
and we might tell a very pretty little romance

5
3
§
§

 

about the connection between a certain ‘ mys-
terious murder’ and one Captain Wrake!”

And the villain, whose occupation could not
have been detected from either speech, manner
or bearing, turned to his companion With a—

“ 'Ain’t that so, Harry i”

“ Right you are, old boy,” acquiesced “ Har-
ry,” “ and the captain’ll soon see that it is best
for him not to ride rusty.”

“ What!” thundered IVrake.

“You dare threaten me !”

And in a moment the two wretches were roll-
ing on the floor, bathed in their own gore, as a
long, wicked-looking knife flashed in the lamp-
light and buried itself first in the heart of one
and then of the other.

And as the child, whose attention was at—
tracted by the uplifted tones, struggled to the
earth and stared at the scene with horror-fas—
cinated eyes, IVrake, stepping to the side of
the Cavern opposite the door through which
she looked. and brushing aside a little pile of
rubbish with his foot, stooped, lifted a small
stone, took a package from his pocket, and laid
it away, and then covered up the hiding-place
and left the room, drawing the curtain before
he went out.

And the two murderers lay there where they
had expiated their guilt with their own lives,
while the lamp burned away, flickered, and flu-
ally went out.

(To be continued—commenced in No. 80.)

Casual Mention.

 

ONE of the most popular of Western revival—
ists has great quantities of colored bills posted,
circus fashion, on the walls of the towns in
which he is to conduct services.

SUNDAY public house closing has proved a
failure in Wales. A clergyman who signed the
petition in its favor says he is convinced now
that no act of Parliament will make a people
sober.

THE bootblacks of Indianapolis have cut
their rate for a shine to three cents. This was
done because one of their number had placed
chairs in some of the public places and fixed his
tariff at- five cents.

PURE blonde complexions are becoming rarer.
A curious person, who has been making obser-
vations for several years, declares that the type
has diminished fifty per cent. since he has been
making notes upon it.

THEY have a Crank in Portland, Me., who
says he can perform miracles. He announced
the other day that he would walk on the water
by faith, but when he came to do it, it was
found that he had put on two life preservers to
save him in case his faith did not work. ~

THE State Prison of Arizona is situated at
Yuma. The brakeman of a train which ar«
rived there the other day thought it would be
funny to call out, “Yuma! Change clothes; ten
years for refreshments.” But the passengers
took it as a personal insult and threatened to
lynch him.

IN many things the people of the Pacific
Coast are peculiar in their practices. For ex—
ample, they estimate their wheat crops by t0ns
instead of bushels, and they are not content
with small coins, small fruit. small trees, or
anything else that is not a notch or two above
their neighbors.

THE daughters of Longfellow, while the
guests of Mrs. Ole Bull in Norway this sum-
mer, will take a trip to see the midnight sun.
What a strange place Norway must be! In
this country the girls do not have to take any
.trip to see the midnight son. The midnight son
generally takes the trip to see them.

WOMEN now serve on juries in Washington
Territory. In speaking of this facta Deputy
District Attorney of Seattle said recently:
“This new law is the grandest thing that has
happened to Seattle. I tell you it looks nice to
see these cloaks and bonnets hanging up there,
and there is only one spittoon in the court-
room, and that is seldom used.”

“’HERE is the biggest watermelon patch in
the world? The Cherokee (Ga) Simfz'nel an-
swers that it is at Lodi and incloses 400 acres.
In the neighborhood are many other patches of
from 25 to 50 acres each, and as each acre yields
one car-load, or 100 dozen melons, it is esti-
mated that Lodi will ship 1,800,000 melons, or
1.500 car-loads, during the season from the
1,500 acres under cultivation.

THE soft-shell or long-neck clam attains an
enormous size in the bays of the Pacific Coast.
Some Puget Sound clams weigh fifteen pounds
and show necks three feet in length. These
clams are only accessible at very low tide and
each requires three men to dig it out. This is
the largest edible clam known and its meatis ex-
cellent. Among the South Pacific Islands clams
have been found which weigh 500 pounds, but
these monsters are too tough to use as food.

 

Science and Industry.

 

A LADY of Wyoming, 0., who is cultivating
cocoons, uses osage orange leaves, instead of
those of the mulberry tree, for feeding the silk—
worms.

FROM cork chippings, once thrown away,
thousands of yards of lineloum are now made at
Delmenhorst, Germany, where the industry is
becoming quite important.

A GREAT codfish industry may yet be estab-
lished in Southern California, if the report be
true that a bank of cod has been discovered six
miles distant from San Pedro.

“THAT is known as the “ Taxanome Company”
of Hamburg has started vehicles provided with
an apparatus which, by the turning of the
wheels, marks the exact distance run.

Chambers’ Journal describes a factory where
the hammering of fifty coppersmiths was
scarcely audible in the room below, their
benches having under each leg a rubber cushion.

THERE is a fortune in so small a thing as a
device for fastening a necktie. One of the
patents in that line has just been sold to a com-
pany for $1,000,000 in cash and royalties that
may amount to as much more.

OLSEN SMITH, the “ brandy king” of Sweden,
has discovered a mrthod of taking the fusel oil
out of olcohol, leaving a pure and harmless
ethyl alcohol. He has introduced the imprOVed
alcohol in the market, and a great decrease in
the death rate has followed.

M. HOULES, in a report to the Académie des
Sciences, states that he is unable to find that
workers in copper suffer any injurious effects
from handling it. It is becoming more and
more doubtful, he says, whether copper can be
recognized as among the poisonous metals.

THE Medical Times, referring to the 5,000
incandescent lamps in use at the English hygi—
enic exhibition, says that they are the domestic
light of the future, adding that the well-founded
objection raised by oculists that the light was a
series of flashes is not now true except in
theory.

THERE are 3,985 paper mills in the world,
which turn out annually 1,904,000,000 pounds of
paper. Half of this is used in printing general-
ly, while 600.000,000 pounds are used for news-
papers. An average of eleven and a half pounds
is used by every Englishman, and ten and a
quarter pounds by every American.

THE fine fiber obtained from the inner lining
of the palmetto bud, says a Jacksonville (Fla)
correspondent of the Savannah N’u‘s, is now
manufactured into a substance so closely re-
Sembling human hair that it is employed as a
substitute for the genuine article. The fiber
may be obtained at any length and is capable of
taking any color. This being true ladies may
now indulge, according to fancy, in black,
brown, flaxen, or auburn tresses without any
feeling of squeamishness with regard _to the
origin of the false locks which assnst their natu-

 

ral charms.

Popular Poems.

Va.»—

A COMEDY.

 

BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.

They parted, “’lth clasps of hand,
And kisses, and burning tears!
They met in a foreign land
After some twenty years.

Met as acquaintances meet,
Smiling. tranquil-eyed;

Not even the least little beat
Of the heart upon either side!

They chatted of this and that.
The nothings that make up life;
She in a Gainsborough hat,
And he in black for his wife.

Ah what a comedy tliisl
Neither was hurt, it appears;

Yet once she had leaned to his kiss
And once he had known her tears.

 

:0:
THE A‘VAKENING.

 

 

BY BEN D. HOUSE.

Through lpreeze-kissed leaves that seemed to dance
in g ee
He caught a glimpse of gleaming limbs, and heard
The plash of water into music stirred
And laughter tuned to such a flute-like key
He knew its notes no boy-wrought harmony,
And through a new-born impulse sharply spurred,
Though sweeter than the songs of any bird,
Turned, that he might not further hear nor see.

And life from thence was never as before,
Though of its change he mignt not fltly tell,

A dormant germ stirred at its very core,
And grow ing, wrought a mighty occult spell

\Vhere from the tree that fruit of knowledge bore,
Faintly across his path its shadow fell.

:0:

ER- VINKIN’ HIS EYE.

 

 

 

Oh, my wife run away wid er Guinea nigger man,
De debil am er-winkin' his eye;

An’ she neber will shine wid de heabenly ban’;
De debil am er-winkin’ his eye.

She hit me wid er skillet and unched me wid er rail,
De debil am er-win ’in' his eye;

An’ she knocked me down wid er white-oak pail,
De debil am er—Winkin' his eye.

Oh, young sinner, lissen ter de gospul ho’n,

Oh, young sinner, pray ter de Lawd in de mo’n,

Say, yOlllllllg sinner, whut’s yer gwine ter do fur yer
so ‘2

Oh, young sinner, ole Satan will drag yer in his hole.

Oh, de white folks ’cused me o’ stealin’ o’ a sheep,
De debil am er-winkin’ his eye;

Said I climbed in de lot when do people wuz ersleep;
De debil am er-winkiu‘ his eye.

It wa’n’t er sheep or tall, but er wool y little lam’,
De debil am er-winkin' his eye.

But da made ez much fuss ez do‘ I’d tuck de ram,
De debil am er-winkin‘ his eye.

Oh, young sinner, ken yer play on de harp?
Oh, young sinner, yer’d better look sharp,
Say, young sinner, ef yer goes up erbove,

Fur den, young sinner, yer kin fly like er dove.

.0:
IN DER SH‘VEED LONG AGO.

 

 

 

BY OOFTY GOOFT.

 

In der shweed long ago I diaked I vas shmard,
Und I dinked I did vant me a vife,

To share all my money and sorrows und joys.
Und to helb me along drough my life.

I vanted a lady kind—hearted und goot,
Dot vas handsome und sensiple doo,

Dot- cood blay der biano or cook a beefshdeak,
Darn my shdockings or made me a shdew.

She must nod be doo shmall-sized or neider too dallv
Und she musn’d be old or doc young,

Und ven I vas shboking had visdom enuff
To always kebd quied her tongue. .

She musd nod be doo dark or ag’in be doo lighd—
A kinder bedwixed und bedween.

She musd nod knew (loo leedle, or vorse, knew it all,
Or be vat some beebles call “crecn.”

She musd be good-nadured, vcar always a shmile,
No madder of dings did vent wrong—

Ven my friends came around for to make me a call,
Be read to sung dcm a song.

Of der l0t ge bisncss habben’d to kepd me oud lade
Und I come valdzing home “ dighdly—shli hd,”

She musd pet und caress me und dank or good

slidars

Dot 1 didn’d shdaid apsend all nighd.

In a vord, be berfecd~mind feature und form—
From her feet to der crown of her head.

Now. dot vas der damsel dot I had in View,
Und der von I vas villing to ved.

Dot’s a long dime ago, und my head dot vas pald,
Und I vas a pachelor shdill.

My gal I hafe nefer saw slikibbing round loose—
Vat’s more, I don’d dink (lot I vill.

202
THE POET’ S REA LlII.

 

 

 

BY A. P. GUYER.

 

Silence hath mysteries which we dream not of;
What is it but the memory of sound?
Deep in its chambers, hidden far away,
We knoweach song a separate place hath found.
Deem you the music dead? It eChOes down
The thought-hedged ways where listening mem-
ory treads.
Pure silence is one web of many songs;
Like some fair fabric woven of many threads.

The stars in silence turn, yet in their course
Make rhythmic music for the universe.
\Ve say the flowers grow silently. The sing
Sweet songs of love and beauty where t ey spring.
The beauty of the summer quiet night
Is haunted yet by tender whispering
Of music that hath been, and taken flight.

Oh, poet! thine the finer sense that hears

The music all unheard by other cars;

Thou gatherest music from the silence deep,

And hearest it in dreams, while others sleep.
To thee the clouds are glorious symphonies;

The sunlight’s flooding gold, the shadows deep,
Are songs in minor and in major keys.

Oh, poetl sing for us of duller ears

The voiCeless melodies thy spirit hears;

Catch from all nature the deep undertone

Of music that is hers and thine alone;

Interpret for us all that nature sings

In silence; how the flutter of swift wings
Of angels makes the silence rich in song.

:0:
THE TWO BRACELETS.

 

 

 

BY FRED. G. TURNBULL.

Only one of the “ fiddlers three,”

A-hid behind the drapery

or flowers that bloom, and leaves that screen
And sift for me the ball—room scene:

Across a cushion of blood-maroon—

Like a fairy dream ’mid a fitful tune,

Or a drift of snow where blood flows hot—
An arm lies bare. I see her not—

But well I know that the fine-wrought band
That clasps the dimples above the hand

Is a golden shore in whose confine

Ebbs peacefully such blood divine

As only flows from a heart whose font

To be supplied by love is wont.

Across the cushion of blood-maroon

(I press my brow, for I seem to swoon)

A second arm, with impious grace,

Reclines so near to the loving trace

That the green-black serpent, strange to see,
That clings to the arm with its jeweled coils,
Would spring as it crouches and fold in its toils
The fair arm anear it.

Ah mel Ah me!
How strange is the semblance in witchery
The jeWels (the simp‘riiigs of fashion),
And the glitter and glare of the passion
For true loving and hating possessed
By the beauty by jewels caressed.

L’envoi.

Down by the shore and the street bay-zirt,
Where blue waves sillied like maids aflirt,
A pause by the window of one who heals
The jewels‘ bruise, and cunningly weals
That magic power, I lounged in idle thought.
The mass of gems his skill and research wrought
The sunbeams kissed and laved. as softly reach
The blue bay waves to kiss the beach.
And like as if the golden tide had cast
Upon the arms of him who w01 ked, fast
Clung a serpent there; its hue of green and black
Revealed that ’twas the same whose slimy track
Was traced last night across the blood-maroon.
Oh, would that all the throng within the room
Had til'lamped and crushed it, though a. breathlem

t ing!
I turned again, in silence wondering; _
The serpent to the workman‘s arm still clung;

 

He mended with his skill its broken tongue!

 

 

 

 

 

 CL.

5‘51

     
      

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