The Great American Story Paper!

 

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COPYRIGHTED IN 1882 BY BEADLE AND ADAxs.

 

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E..F, Beadle,
William Adams.
DaVId Adams.

Vol. I.

E Pnnusmms.

 

Mus IN ADvANcs.

One copy, four months, 31.00

One copy, one year, . . 3.00 N 1
Two copies, one year, . 5.00 00

 

NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 18, 1882.

 

TIME FORGIVE ME!
BY “minivan.

Time‘s a thief. I trusted him
When he came to me and smiled.

I had heard that he was grim,
Stern, and full of artful wiles.

But he seemed so frank and kind,
And so merry-hearted he,

That I wholly changed my mind,
Ah! what gay companions we!

Time's a thief. He stole away
All before I was aware,

Gold of youth and left the gray
Of life's Autumn in my hair;

Stole the roses from my face—
Oh youth‘s roses, fair to see!

Mbed my steps of ‘le grace,
Fooled me so, and c eated me.

Time's a thief. I said. But stay!
After all he was my friend.
He has sto en much away—

Has he not made some amend?
He has helped me climb the steeps,
He has given me home, and lit
On its hearth a fire that keeps
All cold weather out of it.

Time, forgive me what I said.
What you took from me was dear.
What you gave me in its stead
Grows more recious every year.
Roses fade, as ade they must.
For the vanished things, a sigh,
But, oh Time, I will be just
Greatly in your debt am I!

 

 

The Leaglgg of Three;

BUFFALO BILL’S PLEDGE.

A Story of: Trail Followed to the Bitter
End by the. Three Famous Scouts,
Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and
Texas Jack, the “ Prin-
ces of the Plains.”

BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM,

AUTHOR or “WILD BILL, THE PISTOL DEAD
SHOT,” “an, THE MUTINEER," “GOLD
“er, 'an BOY BANDIT,” “BISON
BILL, PRINCE OF THE REINS,”
“CRIMSON KATE,” “LONE
STAR, THE COWBOY
CAPrAIN,” ETC.

CHAPTER I.
TH]: RANCHnRo’s TRAIN.

“FATHER, you seem worried.”

“ I must frankly confess that I am, Mad ,
for, though a stranger in this wild land of t e
West, I am certain that something is going
wron .”

“ But what, father?”

“You remember that the gentleman, whose
ranch I bought, gave me what he called a map
of the trail we were to follow 1'”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Here it is, and it keeps tally with our course,
according to each day’s travel, up to esterday,
and then I noticed that our guide too a differ-
ent route, which is not laid out here.

“As today’s course was also wholly at vari-
ance with the map, I spoke to him about it, and
he said he was not a paper guide, and knew his
trail thoroughly.”

“Perhaps he does, father, and the map may

be wron .

“ No, 9, for Waller told me he took the
trail, as mar ed d0wn, ever time he went to
and from Omaha, and if 1 ollowed his direc-
tions I needed no guide, and now we are many,
many miles away from it, heading up the north
fork of the Loup river, when we should be fol-
lowin the Platte.”

“ at do the tesmsters say, sir ?”

“ They say the guide is wrong.”

“ Yet he should know.”

“ He does know, Madge.”

“ Father, you have some secret you are keep-
ing from me.”

“I will tell you all, for you are a brave girl,

 

 

Med and your advicewill aid 9.” ,
“ [Kim do all in my 'wer to afiyofi, fathgr,
and what you do must done promptly, if you

tthe guide, for this is no connt'r to be
at the mercy of an evil man, sir.” y

“ Well, yesterday morning, you know, I gave
chase to an antelope, and It led me some dis-
tance from camp.

. “Upon returnin I saw two horsemen talk-
Ing earnestlsntoget er and I halted and leveled
my  e was Kiowa Carl, our guide.”

‘ nd the other?”

“Was a stranger, Madge, and, as well as I
could judge with my glass, at the distance I
stood a most villainous-looking fellow.”

:: ot one of our train, then?"

No' for I never saw him before."

it Did speak with them ?"

N0, {0; I saw them talking earnestly
together, as rode on to camp, and shortly after
the guide came into camp and alone."

“ This was strange.”

“ Ye when you take into consideration that
we are from any settlement, or even habita-
tion, and meeting: person on the prairie that
WRY, it loaned t natural to bring him into

“3133 ould
0 W think sir; but did on not 3 ak
to the do about the stranger?” y p6

“ No directly; but I asked him if there were
any ranches near and he said no. 1 then asked
If It was probable for us to meet any one on our
aegis, 311.1%? News!” we might strike a

Q . ‘ .
but 2,0 g“: “Pill-RI of rov1ng red skins,

“ n 0 did not ’
stranger?” speak of his meeting the

“ He did riot.”

“ his 00 9 indeed father.”

“And Ft?“ when he at once, upon
our starting. 10“ the trail I have marked d0wn
on my ml}? by WWII, and took this course up
the Loup.

.“ W119“ W9 “mph-Ii ht I should demand of
him, 8515 your righhw y he has thus led you
off from what youknowto be the direct trail,
and ask who It was “It he was talking to upon
the rauiled yeste f yllnorning.” '

“ wil 0 so or m '
his‘conduct.” , m I am wormed at
th‘erth he was well recommended to you, fa-

“ Yes by others of his
day we ,started I have humid Bat}: from the

“ Nor I, for I can only... his eies beneath

his bush hair and imm
have a. glitter I do not 1&2??? beard: and they

 

 

Texas J ack.

“’Sh! there he comes,” and the father and
daughter relapsed into silence as the subject of
their conversation approached them.

The father was an elderly gentleman of fifty,
with a genial, flne face, and the air of one who
had lived well and was in good circumstances.
He was dressed in corduroy, top boots, and
wore on his head the Western sombrero, and
around his waist a belt of arms. He was well
mounted upon a’large roan mare, and at his
saddle-horn hung a lariat and a re , ting rifle.

The daughter was a maiden—Of newer], with
dark, violet eyes, shaded by'sweeping lashes,
the flush of perfect health upon her face, which
the prairie sun had turned brown as a berry,
and one who, in any assemblage, would have
been pronounced a. decided beauty.

Her face was frank, fearless and kind, and
the merry twinkle that flashed in her eyes
showed that life had held for her far more roses
than thorns.

She was dressed in a gray corduroy riding-
habit, which showed her faultless form in every
graceful motion, and her small hands were in-
cased in gauntlet kid gloves, while her head was
sheltered by 'a gray sombrero, tho broad brim
looped up upon the left side with a gold pin, a
miniature spur, and upon the other side was a
heavy black plume that touched her shoulder.

Her horse was a dark chestnut, and, like her
father’s, showed the thoroughbred blood.

Behind these two came an army ambulance,
drawn by a pair of immense mules, and driven
by a negro, and in it was seated a prim-looking
lady who might be classed among that much-
abused army of virgins known as “ Old maids.”

She was dressed in similar style to the younger

maiden, riding—habit and all, though she never
had been on horseback in her life, but the dress-
maker had a different form to fit in making her
dress, and the angles would show here and
there.
Behind this ambulance came a second, also
drawn by mules, but with a roguish-faced
youth as driver, and a negro woman as pas-
senger, and a glance was sufficient to show that
she was in her right element, as around her
were innumerable utensils of a. culinary na—
ture

 

Following the ambulances came six “ prairie
schooners,” in Western parlance, but which,
upon being interpreted, meant wagons with
white tilts, or coverings of canvas.

These were evidently heavily loaded, and
drawn b “ spiked” teams of mules and hor=es,
four animals being hitched to each vehicle,
while the drivers were real ty 5 of the border
teamsters, rough-faced. roug ly-clad men, all
thoroughly armed. "

In the last wagon were visible several sheep,
hogs, and a coop of chickens, and another of
ducks and geese, while behind it were half a
dozen fine horses and as many cattle, all of
which went to prove that the gentleman at the
head of the train was going to make himself
comfortable in the border home toward which
he‘was wending his way.

There is another person to describe and the

 

 

///////////W/I

 

311de Bill.

train and its people will be complete, and that

personage is Kiowa Carl, the guide, whose

fiiysterious conduct had brought suspicion upon
1m.

 

CHAPTER II.
A LEAF FROM THE BYGONE.

* MR. MABREY MARKHAM was an Englishman
Ybirthfivhose father had sent him to sea be-
ore the mast, to “make a man of him,” he
said, while a brother, some six years his senior,
had been kept at home and reared to become
“ a ntleman,” which would fit him as heir to
the arkham estate.

The young Mabrey had felt his father’s un—
kindness to him so deeply that he did not re-
turn home in the ship in which he had shipped,
but went ofl.’ on his own responsibility to make
a name and a fortune for himself.

Some ten years after, his father died, and
not having heard of the young sailor since his
departure, he left to his eldest son, Daniel, his
entire fortune.

At the funeral, as the services were being
read b the clergyman, and the aristocratic
assemb age were sittin with bowed heads and
feigned grief, a seafaring man, in duck pants,
blue woolen shirt, black tie, and sailor hat, en-
ttiered and stood in respectful silence near the

oor.

He was a stranger to all, with a bearded face,
sober mien, and the air of one who had seen
better da 3.

He fol owed the cortége from the elegant
mansion to the grave. stood with uncovered
head while the clods fell with hollow sound
upon the coffin, and then, alone, wended his
way back to the home of the heir to Markham
Manor.

The proud butler looked at him with a super-
cilious glance, when he asked to see Mr. Daniel
Markham, and said:

“ You must be an ignoramus to call on a gent
in his deep grief, to beg alms.”

The sailor smiled, and answered without a
show of anger:

“Abner, go and tell Daniel Markham that
his brother Mabrey would like to see him.”

The butler started, glanced earnestly into the
bearded face, and saw in the man a resemblance
to the boy, and said quickly:

“ Pardon me, Master Mabrey, but I did not
recognize you, sir, you have changed so. I’ll
tell the master, sir, and he’ll be glad to see you.”

The butler disappeared, and soon returned
with the message:

“ The master says he does not wish to be dis-
turbed by beggars, even if they are of his kin,
and that he will not see you now, or at any
other time, but to give you this ten—pound note,
and tell you to leave.”

The butler had resumed his roud manner,
and held forth the bank—note With the air of a
prince couferring a favor upon a poor servitor.

Again the sailor smiled, but q’lmost immedi-
ately his smile turned to a. look of intense sad-
ness, and his face grew ashen pale: but he said
after an effort, and his voice trembled:

; ‘\ 

h}

\ \

Wild Bill.

“ Give me a pen, ink and(paper, Abner.”

The butler seemed incline to refuse, but there
was that in the 100k and manner of the seamen
that commanded respect, and he bowed and

obeyed.

At the hall table Mabrey Markham sat down
and wrote something on the leaf of a book he
'took from his pocket.

This leaf he tore out, and then upon the piece
of paper brought by the butler he wrote:

“ MARKHAM MANOR,
“June 10th, 18—.
“ BROTHER:—

“ After ten long years of absence I returned home
in time to see my father buried, and to be refused
admission into my boyhood’s home by you.

“ I came not to seek aims nor to beg to share with
you an inheritance which Icould justly claim with
you: but to revisit old scenes, to be forgiveness of
my father and of you, for not havmg in all these
years, let Iyou know that I was alive and happy

“ The si ent lips of my father gave me no we come,
and from vour ips has only insult come.

“ But I forgive you, brot er, and bid you farewell.

“ Yet I leave with you a commission to execute,
and that is, to place above the grave of our parents
a monument With this inscription:

“ ‘ TO iTHE MEMORY
OF

DANIEL‘ MARKHAM, AND HIS WIFE, MARGARET,

This Monument is Er-ected
BY
THEIR SON, MADRIn'.’

“Within this note you will find my draft on the
Bank of England for two thousand pounds to defray
the cost of the monument, the design of which I
leave to your taste.

“ Do this for me, brother, and never more will you
hear from MAan MARIIHAH."

The sailor handed his letter to the butler, and
without a word turned upon his heel and de-
parted from the home of his boyhood.

And the rich heir cast aside the note given
him by the butler, and paced to and fro with
moody brow, for remembrance of the past
welled up before him, and he recalled the
scenes of their younger years together, when he
had really loved the bright-faced boy, his
younger brother, who had followed him on so
many hunting and fishing tramps.

At last his human nature prevailed over
sordid avarice, and he said:

“ I will send after poor Mabrey, beg him to
forgive me, and share with him the fortune.
one-half of which is justly his due, and then I
certainly will have enough.”

He seized the letter then and read it with a
look of intense surprise, and glanced at the
check.

“Great God! I have made a mistake, and a
bitter one.

“ Mabrey came not to ask aid, for he is rich,
I should think, if he can give so large a sum to
the memory of our parents.

“Ifidare not send for him 'now, for he {will
think that I did so, only when I found that he
was not a pauper.

“ Let him go, until again we drift across each

 

other’s (path, and I will take care to find out all
about him, which I can do through the bank
where he has his deposits.

“And I will erect the monument he desires
placed over the grave of our parents, and it
will serve as a rebuke to me through life, for I
had ”never thought of so honoring their mem-
ory.

Kind reader, I hear you ask “ what has this
scene in far-away England, to do with this tale
of the rolling prairies of America?”

Simply, that the chief of the train wending
its way westward, under the guidance of Kiowa
Carl, was Mabrey Markham, the one-time
sailor, who had become an Americanb adop«
tion, married a pretty Yankee girl, an given
up forever a. “life on the ocean wave.”

 

CHAPTER III.
KIOWA CARL.

I WILL now return to the time when Kiowa
Carl, whose strange conduct had caused sus '-
cion to fall upon him, rode up to join lifr.
Mabrey Markham and his beautiful daughter,
Madge, who were riding at the head of the
ram.

“Well, guide, is there any news?” asked Mr.
talillljarkham, as the guide rode back and joined

em.

The one he addressed was mounted upon a
large, long-bodied, gaunt black, that showed
both speed and endurance, and his bridle and
saddle trappings were really elegant.

The rider was a man of fine physique, broad-
shouldered, and with a face that was hidden
beneath a mass of beard, long hair, and the
fact that his broad-brimmed sombrero came to
his eyebrows, leaving only a pair of dark,
piercing eyes revealed.

He was dressed inabuckskin jacket, leggings,
stuck in his boot—tops, and his blue woolen
shirt was open at the neck, displaying his
broad, massive chest.

A repeating rifle and lariat hung to his saddle-
horn, and a pair of revolvers and bowie were
in his belt, and he looked the man to use the
weapons.

He said he had passed long years on the
prairie, knew the language of half a. dozen In-
dian tribes, and could not be lost on the border,
but more than this he did not say Of himself,
and was withal a silent man, with a reserve
which no one had broken through, unless it was
Madge Markham, and toward her he had
shown that whatever he might then be he
had, in the past, led a far different life, for he
had told her tales of other lands in which he
had traveled, sung for her at night around the
camp-fire, and in every way in his power had
tried to ingratiate himself into her favor.

But Madge admired his nerve, praised his
deadly aim with pistol and rifle, flattered him
upon his superb horsemanship, thought him
handsome and agreeable, yet could not bring
herself to like him.

There was something far back in his dark
eyes she feared and Could not understand.

After the death of his wife, the mother of
Madge, Mr. Markham’s home had been broken
up, and the father and daughter had traveled
for more than a year.

But, his means being limited, he had deter—
mined to settle down, and had purchased from
a friend a cattle ranch in Nebraska, hoping to
make there a happy home for himself and
Madge.

With every comfort, and many luxuries, he
had started for the ranch, and Kiowa Carl had
been the guide he had selected to take him
there with his train, which, besides his team-
sters, who were to remain as cowboys at the
ranch, consisted of a distant relative of his wife,
Miss Samantha Doolittle of New Hampshire,
who acted as housekeeper.

Then there were Don Caesar de Bazan, a ne-
gro factotnm, who was known under the more
familiar title of “ Coon,” and his wife, Dorothy
de Bazan.

The youth driving the second ambulance was
a waif whom Mr. Markham had picked up in
Omaha before starting, and answered to the
spicy appellation of Pepper.

Having now made the reader acquainted with
those who are to fi ure prominently in m ro-
mance of the “lan of t e setting sun,” will
now give Kiowa Earl’s answer to the question
of Mr. Markham’s:

“ Well, guide, is there any news?”

“ This is not the place to get the daily papers
in, Mr. Markham,” was the somewhat rude re-

y.

"Yet it is a place where it behooves one to
look after his own safety, and not leave it
wholly in the hands of others, so I ask why you
have left the trail marked out on my map?”
and it was evident that Mr. Markham was
nettled.

Noticing the manner of his employer, with a
quick glance at Madge, the guide answered, in
an earnest tone:

“Mr. Markham, as I told you before, I am
no paper guide, but one who acts for the good
of my employer, and, as you seem to doubt me,
I will now frankly tell you why I left the
trail.”

“ ijill hear you with pleasure, sir,” was the
cold reply.

“I learned, through a courier crossing the
country, that there were Indians on the lower
trail, and hence I made this détour.”

“Ah! then—”

“I did not tell you. sir. for I cared not to
alarm on, or Miss Markham, needlessly, and
by ma ing a circuit up the Loup I hoped to
avoid all danger.”

“Forgive me, guide, for I frankly confess
that I doubted you,” said Mr. Markham, hon-
estly.

“ I must ask for forgiveness also, sir,” said
Madge, with one of her sweet smiles.

The guide smiled and bowed, but said, qui-

ly.
“I will new ride to yonder motte you see in
the distance, and lay out a camp for the

nig‘ht.”

ithout another word he turned his horse’s
head and rode away at a swinging lope, while
the train followed more slowly on, the father
and daughter conversing earnestly together,
and regretting the wrong they had done their
guide, until they were startled by a loud cry
from Coon:

“ Massa Markham! Massa Markham!”

Quickly they turned, while Mr. Markham
asked:

“ W'ell, Coon, what is it?”

“ Dat white boy, what sees eberyt’ing, done
say dar am a man on hossback a-comin’, seh.”

“ Yes, I see him.

“ He is coming rapidly on our trail, Madge,
so let us ride back to meet him," and the father
and daughter turned their horses to meet the
stranger, who was coming at a. swift gallop t0-
, ward the train.

 

 

 

 
   
 

 

 

 

 

   
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




     

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CHAPTER IV. ’ them on] . . :t t
T . y men in this train—I w , *'

THE stmngf {1:113:33}: agilgiggsifi'ent pursuit gilantfilgoslghfl trail and let themclldgksetg  SUTTER s CLAIM- the 9013? 3990mm. ty winzes were as d ' ' ' ' g

of the train had just caught the ever-watchful is But “f‘iléh Prowess to pull through all right, BY J. w. RILEY by, whence escaped m h of the terriblg bifit behave the endemic of his own eyes. she was

eyes of. the youth, Pepper, came up with the lady in th tryf’lh‘se f and, as I. see, another ‘ - known to augment with every league of de ch 3 51” 0' gm“ beauty. She was well dressed
figalggghngt tiattle just as Mr. Markham and make ever;sa:rlindcila feel that it is my duty to SayltlYolu fcllei'! You— thin greatly relie‘mlg "UP Sensitive fibers p ’ Sfacdvfliiarmoungfid’t aind {seemed entirely 0“ of

A ere. 1‘ .- ' ’i it ate-inde and pick!— was surprlled at the nota l ' e on a leso ate plain. Her _

Both nth-er and daughter gave expression to andlzggnfllrstqwg will settle about Kiowa Carl W811i; d9 anI‘pose to (lo water or any other colliquant sgihrzgfingioff “(lime filce wore a look of uneasiness, amihfgligr 
their surprise and admiration by asligbt ex_ “A 1 WI ecide what is best to be done,» “ F .ll‘tlllS side 0 the Crick? our cavernous route. which Shanin 8' a dressuig Struble wlth the compliments of m 
clemation, as their eyes fell upon the 311 b— k n( What woum y 0'1 BdVlse about him?” 1‘3?"  meme this? 01mm?” “"4111 “01‘0" Flamed, “'33 because all water be! i t g a- day’ She asked: 8 “l
lookinglnan before them. Per asueél Mr. Markham. ou lct up ag m purty quu‘k! . 8,“.th cmst hm risen to “he “21:: ng to the ‘I Am you not lost,” I.

7 He remed his horse back to a halt, raised his “13:20,? mg}, was the laconic response. No bliiii', iiiiilcrstand— past, to undergo the prOCess of purl-aegis: am We were but are all right now. A you“
broad Sombrero, and bent low in hiS saddle at “H h 0W ‘ But .lic same has been trim], I was quite unprepared to sudden] f « 1- Chap found us huddled up on the prairie aw! .lg
Sigbg of Madge. a courtly salute which the “3:112:33”: to yonder money” I    nligdrligfllnm‘d—A He‘f m the mid“ Of an arena the {43:51:15} :3), Itilde“!len I to“ him that we war lostlilg .
mm on returned Witha racious b 1 . .- .  3 ’, 'S l“ , _ which were be 0nd in ’ - .99 0 eaVe a trail beh' ' ‘“
father by touching his hagt, 0W, and her ‘:11%e'is 1pot in Sight on the prairie.” . I (gallant; (’hfiq‘iOSXi-‘aii‘s‘iitfimed it' Where we encouynteredi is ri‘tnvgvirgf :fighlt" all cogld tau" umil “’9 “980th Egg oil-LT]: ’t’hat we
a {in}; liiiorso, a steed as white as milk, and with sightelaq YO: ,was. Just disappearing when we Theluckk d('ad agin’kfi' (. {minim of Arifosto. Every conce’ivakfie 13;”; serves“! You are following bimr, the- girl Ob_

owmn mane andm“, did t . d . - H 1 L. .- ay 5 i‘ewn con usedl aro' . ' '

Ellie least fatigued by his rapid gallop?§ii§€:$hé3 u ggeclafiggtoezsgogllindow offimy coming?” TliI‘altesiiiiz-klg‘liicllrbfi? it ‘ proacnes wandered irflxprgsgmznillng‘gegognmaepu :‘ gtertamly"; - S‘
ansiglt‘fimll) neck and seemed the personification of “Then we’ll getch lgimobsolg t . ,, , Proved that thing to mc— am} . women Composed Of_ neither bone shell “ do n3?“ 1?! cued the Woman, 9X('itedly ‘ ‘i
strength flaggz‘gzgcwas his master of manly n Yet how can We do $02230 0 the train. 3 Pin}? siirigigmi‘k (lfiwiihmiil go: homesick. fgltillgfe 01‘ Ilieiiglirane—‘vitli not so much lime will rue it?” 0“ that man another step 01. 3.011 . 7,. i

T ' ' ' ")2 “Halt our t ' . ' “m “U ' W 31' udortobci compos.‘ Jon as might be found in the “ .  “’
hanggogitglgfiogflthfi thnger was fancy and one waged: as thrgiiglicitnhfilbI—roklr men about The“ Others they “'Orkc‘l it monuscous -w°’m_yet Clothe“, after the com- himgrmlg’t M0185! “ma—What’s wrong With 3" A?
b . . g1 oi a bal mas‘quc costume then Wait Until h d. ~ 0 en down, and Sememmore(".105g mon tradition of Juvlea, With a shadow sem- St you now who it “‘al'i” excmlmed

eing a, mlxtum of MEchan and frontier ram, 1 ' d ” e iscovers that you are (19- But finally sliirkcd it, blance of all former h-ibiliirei t- f y ruble. «, l
to W_blch was added cavalry boots, 8will; alleweu i .2» Y1.11 grades of distrcs’s— flitting, gliding, t0 the time (it ill.  sleevfiglr’flr'ld :zYS’Si “3 Was Doc Middleton ” she anstp .d  '1"
masswe Spurs of gold, a plumed sombrer “ , S l . . With an eye out—a jaw m- skull bii’sted cordant chant-(mi. Shai , . x is- “ hfitl D0c Biliddleton ’ r( .

d . o of Natur 11 r}, , . ikdig Inform that outlaw d
lozvezgolored felt, encxrcled by a gold cord, and open prailfie 1370: hV2111 1return, and here on the or some sort 0 seriousness. . that these unpeoplenke people awitmleto {tine hos‘sTtllliiefln I an a

' ' - V0 7 ' - . e ‘ i ,
repgeseiiltlingna airiig? egghalggeodfisggégfgd,  And youadvise thatlgeagelilzgubiaglic'y' , Tliiekivsga‘il‘vf Algirgli‘cky— Za;pi(i?;dnhailst3:§rorl?agl61;“{flmal juage Whig) “ Logdsaxl’gli’ghty ' the t Id
eIes’ amber for 11.01115, and rubies to give thgrgd “  S”; 1W1” do that” And brag ed he “'35. IUCkY. Hades for the reception Ldf 2cm M lltdllet gate or that that feller Was dead 0 A1331: year ago 1
g agztfsthe EQStrlls. “Yesjleave him to f Alfiggpsgié btlhzgtheil'él heoi-d I observed that Shankdig idstg mien of ii taheln. miss'i” - you this.
. a m ' — ' 11 - , ,‘ - ‘ l S -' 77 .
for a bordeef'rzgiilfioa wgégqebfitldwcags‘lldr 1333?“ “31:51” 311111;! until the prgpegridovdildhl‘ (22111102 £118 He'd Work anyaclziigfilfdi(liflggblrezdrd gohno‘igzggnwllliggitigr: dfafihfidf “Pings the arena if YOIEHfSIIg’w igitrfglifdtowt‘lfih emphasis' ” and 
with the diamond solitaire th . ' 93 n t 611?" ' Don‘t 'ou 1; 'k , . _ ' the m‘. t “R _t u irow, clad in tomorrow if - e endT‘tb" Creek l
his black silk necktie, and a cfiaifihfimgfgsiln “And then you will see that he knows who I With) thast  1through; structlifmoifnfligsmtligckhat 'Il‘fimgs death and de' five horses,“ goalkai: ahve' 379“ Wm flpd most;
laigitks l(Jifdgold that encircled his neck and had Eglggidvffigfn a am aware that he is a black. ‘ T12: (111233 to] er linked quick ' have warned and thus 1.42.3325", Shogllld and his band. a11dnow—pgflflmon Of Mlddleton, :
fChair:l gistgufitgnggfigl‘lt which was hidden in the :fgou will n63 kill him?” said Mad 8 timidly Aug lliesagfgyt}.lle::i Elem g:Igu‘évgngf’ggl;ofeni?klesslv plunging {grrward’ mpfigtgkgg kg‘gwbtehégg who are your) inter. .
‘ . His feet were snmu.and Sha l ' otmiss, .for I never take the h elot a h : Blthon as p easel" I we; bad 0 mg Was 0119 of relief when tion the irl wv _ us not the interrup-
igckaggdiin gauziglet gloves, and bigw’hbllzalsbelglilgg 31111511 E’fiéngegggflggt it is fibsiolutgly necessary?” Andel‘nfihl‘iits diseasezne died here." rounding.gotten beyond the disagreeable sur- “ And‘IEOW, finggg‘wiu follow me I willl d %
png Wi- a man wh dd 1 Him a ge reathed ' B 1 ' - . - F011th ' - ‘ ea
naked no favors, or mercy 0? pug-gag: 13:83:31 gg‘ifggwtgs sgie. had feared she would be .3033: a dlgtzlllllgetgflfiiige lilguggfinfgfilg’ Ive ht“! Sunk YOU Can 53:33 Zgiigztfigfigg‘llw creek Where \ g’
s Eilagd liVed Without fear. which thewfl Hess one of those dread scenes for _ line. Our veloci; y was multi 1955 In 9} Straight The emigrants were complete] d i
in at talsglgitih Mn ¥§rkham and Madge took she had incfilxentglltylehezads “Oted’ End Of wmcu  F mrtlonate ratio' To my I‘etllti‘i‘l':v 121513217: pro. Thtey held a communion and finin;%l:gilllmdetio §
ce, as e man approached- b t u . r so muc . . almost half-we tb u were ac on the stran e i I. v , e ;
when he drew nearer and th . i 11, I Will at once do as you su est 5‘ n - . y rough lhe globe, and that her A] 3 gr 8 Suggestion. and follow .
 mentally they  fiftieth: salesman semis. tarsal   P-  Shims?izhriszuismri:81 and water; who sheearnestness;“rm to
uguonamo " 6 rec a b " - . 1 an existed ' , Secamet
rein  Siinstillsdpssrist; “i5?    55$ iéll’iniée‘h" when“ emanate: from newsman. tfl’u‘lfililyb‘ih20p3r‘ii"I‘n‘ml‘? if wire as ‘33 flight?"  “W m  confld’en'éi ?
cu ea ures or eyes more ex res - . a ew moments the train had come t' . .ve surprise me but forapersonal 0 l . .W 10 we had placed Whe th - . . ,2
of feeling ’ P Slve and full halt, Mr. Markham had explained t 0 a perience in one of the mo 0 ex” urge Veg—.119 replled With an indi - n a tram again moved forw d '
. - - - the men 1; - s remarkable events burst ma 1 d ' gnant Ont‘ 3311'] fora 'd - M It had 4

H15 mouth slightly ster I the tidings brought by the stran e (:1 Down to humamtv. f , in y enouncmg our geographers as d 8111 9. She rode Just fir enough in
beneath a d ’k . _ 11, Was half hidden and all gathered arOu d ‘ g Orsem‘mi _ It was somethin’ inde d - 001$! “.0 better tEben Ptolem in his t‘ a Van“ tomake conversation im o '
Lute};we]H03:degltg?nm$;t:%h?£ggfigs gholugh engaged in megdiggeaogr?lfe:3§%l§,vzs mt tlée ptresence {if a gguuifichragg'xolzlggzil‘geantg giaobiihdfigzgllltg a draging of “langl‘vggg afigbdulbngdy and “guess: mam??? c1802:

'8 air “’33 W”Ving, and fell down i.” 1° ‘9' . ' .v 95 9P. ‘0 of .them all, was first to disco “T -l 9 map 0‘ the World- Tw 1' - ’
halfway to. his waist, a circumsmnceisw[llifizchk _ Back in the rear the stranger waited stand- "I: Silanlmig a highenstandard than the USlYlgll knowg‘l” limet sue 0‘, Our world is not vet a little); hours gravehng finally brought them to 3
when one dld “0t gaze full in h' f ’ ing by the “do Of 1115 SuPerb horse and ’ c mlat‘m- 1” maDV mterViewsIhad 'th ' h ' e S erply cr'e‘i- “111 proof of this I ' ’ We}, wowed Stream when the f ' 1'
him a look of efiemihgcy' y is ace, gave mg; with M1,. Markham and Madgg convers- be displayed both scholarly talent and Stem?” ngvs be? to- remuld you.of the fact that conti- gu‘l‘dfi drew rem. and said to Striible: a“. '

But one look into hislarge earnest 8 ye d Eagerly Mr. Markham watched. for the m- gemus. ive sul1:15f Grminate in_ peninsulas, and the penir- and Iii-'8’ lid)", you had better go into camp _
figutitemh .SOmewhat reckless dareldcsviiligh hghgllpifserén 01" the guide, and thus nearly an no'glmigelfi 09Ftfiin afternoons when he would minagiongeifinlgggg olfsabUt attmther Of these tel; men arglilowwsgyipfil 1min Middleton and tel; 1

an it would be a most cas 1 b 4 ~ away, _ , e. usmess ca 18111 and on one f h ‘ _coiin ry more vast mo, te - 1 e y ying in wait for
that W’Ould set him d V ua 0 serv,.r ' Atlast the eve of the St 0 O I muted mg m stations 1v 0 t ese wonderfulthan anything er, del ' " ‘3 {lmlles above here.” you
mien Prince of meatssfi‘he“  a  eerie  Susseirgnzmla quantum:gadgeumedquigiitiii‘mfil’  Efitifii’i‘g‘eflf’“ Bideléifiefiuizéls ministered neckimedttemua

u ysix feet in hight, and h - .31 amp 3:: ’ . gm 9 me warmly. ' ‘ " . . ~ Y0“ V9 one use bi fav
ems“  e0  ieilneda lief? its” ,, s; trainer? 0; .2" men 1...... .0 dlérasniehilligmbreg    in???éhspgz'nni-m-hee meg—«13533

a mira ion of Mr. Markh ' ” 1m now, and Mr, Markh ,. “81‘ y. ave been dre ' ' - u so tremendous h d u ':
Madge am and gazed earnestly at him throu h h, am u .59 men mast h . aming. now become the force f a Ill declare sh v .

‘ . , fi . ave their dre v , _ 0 our descent, th , 68 a ueer one ”

‘ ai‘dO.n me, sir, but may I ask who is cli- f 851?“ also Madge, who remarked:1S 61d glass’ the gossamer poet, you kflOW——” Ems as we“ as lightsh fe-ared y the tune we "’30th the 331:1? (31:518. d ~ q , sald Tom

3122315 gal“; :Ske d the strange horseman iriea vergfgi; gags marvelous eyes. sir, for he is Yet figt‘vlagviés combigtelled to interrupt event? 1:2; 13a gli'éispsctt, one of two disastrous Old JRhfiAfiotEil agn‘t fillie a beauty g" replied
‘ , nor-i evoicc. . . " , USY oreanunr - - ""15 ire: eit ' . l ' YE de l ’
:: i fin]. sir,” said Mr. Markham in replv bi ‘inArll(-l Ehretllmlne” at a gallop which will gr: 0f ‘VbIChlgubblefl and lifililln‘tlllifecgbggdtggf grieglllglgtsbli‘?il‘§oulg carry gs beyoggraggrollfi up. I don’t know what to thgnag?’ I m an brOke l
ope sir, it is not on ' g " ° ‘H g um ere in half an lloul-_" ’ .Opper ca ron, the fumes m.” A . (0 0 the earth. without ‘ ' 7 l
tempt a settlement upog thro libelifilolgrto at- You have indeed superb sight sil- 9: .d being at first sense rather sweetqbfit tileggr‘glm :13 tllvne lJO study the phenomena we song  A year went b a d ' ° 1
ill"     Message ’ ’     ’ * n y :1: 3.22:: be      we... had passed can: an? tram:  a e i
in uiring way. ‘ ‘ ' f eSlg toftlic prairie-man sir a .t _ “ octor. fear I cannot rem ' l, "’5 were “(11181,Wit-h such abm 1; friends but; wl, t ‘ o k m 10 and his 3

‘ BY no means sir forI $311013 impI‘OVes by lon ract" " S WI h we lmlCh I Would Wish to do so am’ owever as to destroy our lives. p ness in st ' ~ a they had thought 01' their fair ‘
I 1Java purchased upbn the d to a ranch Va.“ expansewwhere agfdllurentii Idletsggtrc:lftclig ls Eurnina my stomach." - Yonder caldron 131?, alasz These apprehenSiOUS were as Shz “51:30:35 lgg‘ldo'hand marveled as to Wm; I

H The Platte, Sir 1n ' Brings deathuhence it is most necessary to cu]? t 0b,.) fal Jul 1. Here—chew this; it will com _ gal-8mg contrasted with the terrible accident in tiuuousl did herefzn? 1136 lOng'ed; and so con-

Yes, for I have purchased the Wallermnch .tlzva e 0iieSVi510n,.and though I carryaglass Veract' —hand1ng to me a small piece of i At-th.' . Hank organ haunt smile" find the face of I
an}? “S came” 1 3? Seldom. I need Its use,” Was the reply ’ l‘quor‘ce'hke Substance. “Sit down and 1‘ t a l v 13 Juncture there issued from above be- When he flnall b d we S memory, that, ’
The Platte, sir, is not in this direction u said h. ‘Vell, Sir, have you decided upon wh'at on I have been projecting, rather than dremlgen. til)“, around us, a crash in volume louder than been arrestedyansar that Doc.Mldd]9t0“ bad 
th‘e‘ Sslgailgfil‘ with some surprise. ’ ilgill‘hiflnwshen tlile tzguide returnsgv, asked 3:31:10? hazardous and wonderful venturemgl boltglmu‘lytvzit?§0us tl‘lllemfliing of a myriad thunder- and robbery at a cewrtlasintotilifieulied "a" murder I
. DOW, si‘. b t ' . . (“new a nervo ~l v ‘ rave man with , - ' - '° 8 hi 0 s . . y e ro e all ’
l ridden on ahead to xfindua 33mg??? whol has mg forms of horse and ride;1 :giéfeggfi getgn‘ that man. I have concglveedytfig’olugfheve’ are nven asunder; an “Pheaytiplaginsglaemearud was :1? ebs'eat 0‘ 3‘“th to see the Fri-“Ortiz: g
Ihaplght, makes this detour topavgidrbggdstglf m9F§Idlstin0§- “5 "‘5 flppifatugin which the human body  1?: 5;“ mzztyggle 1:31p? r encompassed US y an un- W85 Doc ylfilfilslgiggs to ngth" Hank MOVE!!!)
n ians ' - . ‘ es, si .’ case an - . i - 1 ur » ' , or no , -
Markhagflwfilfi 1323;: Sgggg’hgflfigll‘ggibéur. “‘ gay I zsk Whatit is you will do?" bible to nit: :gng’firggrgtfiirzlglgs gadsd «31111:1 stu§c§p- lnogntain 0f giggigfavggonggogfigcfitfim- 8' :figfilligogrla glam}? at the pgsnotfgteggfdghtilg
tively regarding the Swan 8 h em i ertainlv, sin . or deflagmtiom With sud] _ , c ric1ty on y, and every particle of st v10- B t was rig t—Morgan was Middlet
interested apparently in whEt h orsgmanv Who, “Please go forward with d iliary it is not impossible t an lmporl’fint aux- from my frame. As the cloud [dqngth couatpsed u the most Surprising sight of all was €111).
did not glance toward her er “her 531d, where the men are and when VKQur “gm” t° edge of geology the found O-SWPQSS m knowi. the full horror of wh t “mated “self pram“ 0‘ the fair girl ide h - °

1 I . V tlons iven b a had occurred was _ courtroo S g“ . "Self "1 the 2

‘Why 1 have Just come fr F “p and 351“ lihe cadse of ")W“ Qarlcomes Werner and 11 -a . g .‘13 y M. Seated to me! Dre 111- he was dressed

_ - . 5' our delay sun 1 tell i 9' succeeding him. It handsom - - m black. Her
30“ along the river trail acts hort MCPher mm that 37011 have decided to retr ' p y '- able that many bOld ex lore b Is admis' The sublime and awful in l - t e’ mtemgent face "0’9 a ‘ sad d i
traces of redfikins’ nor h ! dn ave seen no and takgthe right one alon the Flee yelpr trail miles below the earth’sp frs ave Penetrated was before me' the wasp“, c 9 0f thf‘ fission rOubled look. all .
Kearney, When I h It ear 0f any at Fort “And then?” g atte‘ 369king its actual 5“" ac‘h; .but IPm'POSO POSiliion Overwhblmed r o 'my pheno 1 Strum? resolved "OWtO know -
ing (Blispatolaes, sir, fgogdfiggaeérgggioaénmffigt car 1 will attend to the balance, sin n was the that alriother world Eggs] ’Wtfth‘igrtliyismi’htal‘ltezzy flag? if ldimvidled by onem:ht:gkge of a beat)” the an}? égfygufo t"(2:1lbystandJer he askgg?° She Was, V i
5* gm e met some one who told h. - m Fla) 5'. ’ Puree unison of hydrogen and _- 9 9g 0 ad parted its two dist’ ‘ - bi ki “‘8 W 0 that young lad in
were Indians on our trail ” 1m there My. arkham nodded and rode f not in an amo h _ Oxygen is there shootin opposite] . i met bodies BC 8 over there near the n‘ n y
- v ' ' - ward with IT’ OUS “1855, but in the he ’ A Y Into space away from 7 “That’s D . P Isoner?
l “118 was misinformed I a - Madgev 19“an the strdnger co 0:1 - cfawatery Orrery PO 111 ted p nomena ' nd t “s was I Suspend d be me' h ’ 0c Mlddlet’on’s wlfe- 1’00 th'
thereis no man on the ber ssure you, Sir, for the rear we, 0 nce ed behind fish wh ’ . P a _ by soul- sseSSing of ~53 - e ’ 0nd all lnflu- s 88 Worked eve w; to r 111,8!
er th 3 n. ‘ . .ere every microsco - . . g'l‘flVI tion, in mice} - _ - , . 5' make a man
th'li‘ltlfl the movements of the hosgitlggws better alalquaé‘ter of an hour passed, the whole party {evilfilitlon The wedlock 01? 3:31:33) :tblalogggzl In a measureless vacuuzn, d Em!” dangling gem?§§sht’ilggbu “7,3, 3° “89, 8“ an891‘ ? £11321:
Mr. 11282;?) 33111 $1122an air of braggadocio, and angina"gagfggpsggouchthe center of the egg: a: :figefn‘iflgstg iS'Ibut a shell, liable ’to (is: --——._ And the man’spoke the truth i

“ That being til; cage h coming of the guide whoew $1” nervouslly - ‘llhe the inner erm is re. he dlrect process from ' l
wayéfl our course for £1333] ingve come a long Pagrslently up he daished Haida :33); Sleby, witi one snfd'vigaifgblgd): rZ'Edll, Hog-   “B I l

“ on have indeed sir and-anoth ‘ lat means this lon ‘h l : astound the intel t . ec on, to ‘ L

. . . , ,. - er da on . , g a {7 here, when there “ EC S Of the Outer lobe!” I
221:1]gigjlxgéggayifu3238;33:353th Elie In5diau $35333?" to reach 3' camping-ground be- Tligofuigilgsliglmri caisifllr’ldiZZilyg v BY 01;]; coomas l  
prey to massacrey 9' an easy “ It means. Kiowa Carl tb t I . stran e irresistible 911’ a mu were hafing a ' ‘ ——-— .

“M d ' . to on f - ’ ‘3 , haw deCIded - ’ . 90!: upon me. More th gm
undergaggrhgg £105 £1111i gfgnufiivfog I cannot hails grmurrtggogggn this trail, ’Was Mr. Mark— 533$ Egggfifgsvsetgeg] £11152??? Substtance 11°13: Digests 8? 2.33335 damn the great plains of dislon he}; gfidzylsiyflkfifillmfi maiden
nomnt Offihe facts.v0u State ” e een so 1g- if Hal. do you inténd to assu . AS I held the dru in abb eg'nan With 'um. of visioii and blot g £wa the range girls out in that section 10 mg atamt. The

:: gho is your guide. may '1 ask?» gufile, 31;?” was the angry reslfifsgle dunes 0f iii out Of my mout , fearigg‘rghlffgeilggysglgp 3 great expanse in iii: out oitmwgiugg ogaer the curiously constructed, at the country must be
him, aes Eigggwgarilnnoinaha, where I engaged deepP-tonesrkham heSitated, and then came in aggggkgageiéggggnufihpf it into my Sgstemfi emf e ngsrtStOOd, motigfem—lost, c a lid of thgn excited ex’gchange sbrieks: “Where are

Both Mr. Markham and Madge saw tb H No, but I do, Kiowa Carl ” his great ladle mug: anglig‘slgréously Wabbling some Ewenléyw‘avso 5121:1305? of_ eight men and the 322%? eflggithf‘ffd up Jumps Burdette, of
the    he  pass? life-m“     so. “ if“, ye  1’ dear easements E“     $3.?” warme- men of  “yam a shot: Balsam 

‘z . - in uni e forced his 11 . pene rate ar into those . - _ _ a y ne~lookin . were awn ~ eno
andIhlénbcezrhim, sir]; as an infamous scoundrel 23133013183 agfldwtgile his face Sgggmgpgglllilds Sgrth’s firStt; order 0f thiggg’lcfiexbfighcgbgbe m’ll‘lfd horsesgnlaogege filggligi‘fli’efychgg seve- wfigggcnéfigxigaggdconve’ysfthis Startling in-

( supon is right ear mv k ’ ar e “6;: ’ 90113 ma ter, The real - n" aparty Was ai ‘ a e' ' ers' ‘ “m ' i

‘That man sir was] d‘ ' I-nar ' “Great God’ Bufi'al B‘ll . stable crust is h t nupkus Of this un- hundred fl mlng to"well the ccuntr a, very rublonabl°~” The Ilext f 'pes are l

for he is friendly with oledlBlng you mm a trap Platte 1” ° 0 l l the Prince Of the “ B ~ w a We g°.t° mvesti te—” . m es further north. The h d y be to the effect th t “ a n item Wm
, , lack Face. the 011- l - 0E, may I be hanged if I )1” ralsed upon the rairies y 3 been mosa- ‘1 hash is now made a la
2:133:38      we? shaman“: sepia:   more “’1‘: “than . d g‘ “as My sentiments will. scream n‘ifii’fuil‘flfl-d “3”” W
' , - ’ n9 0' ewa on .‘ V3.5 ifficul 3:0 ey felt th . 0 ‘0 8- mm of
bo’gleig “filigihfaclll 11kg £1! giundencla upon hlIIIig‘fglc‘eewiesvselegfit the guide. g S’ and held ggfélrzonvi’gile I knew the migtryIcllfifiiIdt fxfiiyme‘zl: “19:11. way across the $121113}: egouil-giiiizllgigak: (13%?memd dle 7) copy of 153136 laggegfi;
- .' an a e and r m 1118 now and he - . 1‘ my unfortun to $111 eor com ass T 011 l . , 30", W eneverh h
staring in amazem g ’ ey sat afree and egg . ’ answered 1n 0 ~um_ s - a taste of the ' p ' We JOhn truble h of a v1 9. “1'8 the sound
man before them. eat upon. the strange horse- H Corgect, Igidzsgbarl, and I have the d ififluencewszggwnrig aI nszginelgéstgnél dangerous Tiifirtogiefifegulzofigniéhe§ to a lY‘ap 2? 8;: bangs giggled:  the barn and
_. i _ _ - . a . I ,
on you, ' rop lost the power of yolition. I could 3:19 “Pg/91 1y now, when, after half a dgl‘hed them. no relief ON the Texas side of th “8.
CHAPTER V (To be continued SWay helpless] in . y 81 and the found th 3’ Wandering about that State e crowns between
“ THE PRINCE OF THE l-JLATTE .) and earnest Volga ofxsng' Sign”: While the subtle trafi emselves crossing their owri saloon thnd the Indian Territory in a small
MY dear Sir, you astound me n 'l I “The study of i an 8 90Dtlnued; What; mad - read “I’Ecsh bears a donbh Sign. One side
Marglam found words to say. i at ast My. solution as it Standsggf’g’g; giggn and aqueous that a fire had :37: Stltgllation ,all the worse was Chariot; n A: noChlance u ; the other, H m 
m...  32:3 it‘ll have astounded   A BABY'S mas.    22:23:25'523'  lie Wh°1°pexp§n§i”$dliflal'rmi‘im'   Territory, ilfi°3g°filatilysb°bmms 
knowing ,that no trai rlilc your trail’ and SEE was th' —- state, I de S ormatlon in the ear “1,5 Superior is?” ° ere was no tree or trail to’ beafc ess th the departng and arrivin  el 3 
feared you were lostnmsldould come up here, o]d_fashioneléo 198‘ but a baby, a little quaint be: Bounce asfol-de-rol. The stu d 0 stream-had they seen sin b , Ound. A MILD EYED , g rav or.
thin Wm, . syn. in of our planet I Pen ous that mom 08 reaking cam youth weann ad rt
you_,, , came on to warn sunny hair and d g, tumbled locks of lamly as th s can already read as f ing and it wasnow the middl p hat and polka dot sock 3 953,56 5 11
“And most; heartfl 81 ee soulful blue eyes that we £1 _ e MOhammedan his K . a temoon' M911, Women 11' e of “1.9 the other an Iwent Into M‘ddle ark ~-
ydo I thank v0“ . f Ways full of clou or sun h' .r" 0W now Iam resolv d Oraun. mals Were 1 . _ 7 c ildren and am- yand claimed to be a - 
your manner your face car ,_ ,sxr, .or the other in m .d s_ me, one followmg naked bowels f th e to both gaze upon the 8- most furnishing for water W Pert. The bow in“; led b. . mining ex- 
all you say.” 1 , ry conv1ction with toddling abo t Pfl successmn, Only a baby myse]f_w.th 0 e sphere we inhabit and cast Were they to do? what could the do? - hat stick of iant p0de 8. im {nto dnmng a, 

u I also join my father . _ down and built} ter her weary mother, falling» suits of a 1 out even speculation upo’n the re AS if in answer to thei y . bottom 0%3 eh f . r Into a drill hole at the 

- ' , ~ . . , - trokes f 11 - 1' questions hoof- . ~ 3 b With an old a a d
sald Madge softly , 5113111 thanking you,” and gom . mg herselfa dozen times a da th . P as yet u“figured gravitati _ S 9 upon their ear . are tr m to X, u now th

, - g Just as f Y; e whirlin world 0“ Into out f Send a rider , y . 8' Bell him out of -
qui‘glflyflmnger’s face flushed, and he said gowff-fair face all owtftn EEJOCI 11333.73,”thwa t five gee" igcased 13; 83:32:11: Ibisziéfiher that Hg égigimfifingfhggegi In tfheir midsucame ammonia and a tooth~brush. the ground w":
: lSpe ' request, u H l . e ms urin eh ous stra- 1.‘ 3P8 Ive-am“; A YOUNG .
do‘i‘nlg :gkdllllgt thanks, nor do I want them for garsig.°1é;0 other mggsgemfilfl?g,favigi‘l§r 'my I '1 $55105 so agililgsinoiiufizsé; by th gfggli’bgiafigfd glisptfifiismlfi With dammit? {mics with $333353 :hgdilivgehofi tWemy

. Y- ’ ore lc torinl and ~ "1 a In a c and the ' 0 vapor in a ‘ - '- e Was well dr H limited tract ' M' - n “mn‘

¢ My orders are im _ my tears,” E. peremptory vome, u Wipe inca qbl f opium I had chewed as to b ,Sult peculiar to the prair. essed mu in innesota. At a pomtabout ..
Om ha but I felt I vgenitive to press on to k - ither she could not or would “IE? 9 0 Speech. 9 heavin armed and rod ‘6 "filger, was 1 way of the Ionel route the a. h , 

7 Id not b d ‘ ma 6 any attempts at b - not 0 more aus ic' ~ blood dh ’ e a fine spirited t9? quarrel Th for ' p u ad a hit” 
duty to allow you to on . e .Omg 1115' of sorrow h ~ - rushmg away the tears ed tha to p 10113 moment could besele t - e 0138- and m _ - 6 low unhitched the ho 
knew your force so go on this trail, when I 9139“, and sometimes we lau h d ' n ‘3 Pljesent,” Weird] h ‘ c ‘ His appearance wa J, - . Ountfifl 117, and rode awa 1e - 1.9% .

. c to warn )7 see the shut eves a 1 {5'0 3 e to vome of Shankdi ' Y unlined the 1) th - S ailed thh a c f - alone in th 37’ "mg the an”! ll:

“May Iask ho’w “‘9 you. bathed . . . I" lshtly drawn feature - gm my ears. “ It Is 11 eemlgrants. He av ‘ W0 30y - 9 Wagon, where she rema‘ .2:
38158 (1 Mr. Markhauyou knew what force Ihad?” was a pilIilfutl aldggrli? idhtcljlngi.‘ Sometimes therse fileigid; Otfhghlei112Y5g§y :‘ 318 attractions :12: gilli Igggfinég Government goofing name as Hank mgAhthvanvd next day walked home. med an 
andfilifinélseglgin to me’ Sir’ as is the lightning 311i? (inade Our hearts :chettlguhtouosggflgrwafl figmede fluctuatingPrgggdggsmgonot be re‘ Were in mble tOId hlm the predicament they “pit5h§}lgifi;£m:er’lygoivlas aSked how his 

. precursor of a storm f ’9 nonsense a~ W - ’ We 881‘ oggleb B - Come. my H k' at - . i P19 . ‘ am folio ' ’~‘
trails as an open book i 01‘ I read drops from th e e Wiped away the pretty once.» y- estir. Let us be off A 3-11 Morgan Iau 11 d c reak Of wind-u S Wing a I

. _ t . g e pleasantl d - ° "3088 as the remark i“

“See there are the tr '1 cheeks th e Eng-curled lashes, the daint i a a WWII from his k 53“” taking 1'3 Was true. It . “ems: 

i - . y thad never d. P00 et consulted 1t d appears that in workh- 
and wagons half blurreaii s of your ambulances gay pizza]: Smfall, Quivering chm, and We drew di W crossed mytboughts that sh , sal‘ . an then came upon a m in th 3' he 
and Iknew {hat you Go 1d out by a few cattle, bottles h 95 0 the baby going about with tear- 1% a§t§° great a lunatic as this remarkall?’ _ 113’ sthree o’clock and I inches wide,fmm which - 9 md‘ 91")“ "11299 I v
a dozen fighting menu 1111.0” have more than t 1 “.“g arqund her neck and Croon d h p P05l 10“ 1ndlcated him to be 3 a 19- miles from here b d' k, must be twenty Where it comes f Issues mural)“ 3""  4
, h m th. oseep With an idler t' - ’ 6 er and how much w - ,ut now—— ace Y 81' Iam so I Pom and what he ma Mk .v- 
would be a mere haiidfwl1c ' ls country “T - epe 1tIon“Tennyi’iOn' full bel' - one was the realizat' v ompany You folks but I ' "y cannot area mystery but the ' y' 6
Face and his braves 11 against old Black ears.ldle tears, Iknownot what th ' Y leved him to be lea ued . 10“ i—1 that you will have ’fm. W111 arrange it so the streak of’ ' b mm" understands that 
. I , more es ecian . And W eymean.” natural elements- f g With super. waw n0 ther trouble and l' 411‘ reathed out of the de tbs ' 5“
were led Into an ambus. ,, P y if you 8 wondered among oursel with t 1 q or be grasped my sho 1d . r and wood by sunset I . reach Iable to lead mm to a a i is

u I see, Sir that you I: d . would do as she grew 01 der and le ves what she . a a or.) Strength, and in a t ' u ers lamat bebind m h ' ' W1.“ drag my thata cave is ll b n" he also hows

- . . d to kno flying on Win d . rice We were ta h d . y 0‘39 Wlth the picket- ' th 3 letocomainanamount of .
as one would an 8 318715 On the prairie real SOTI‘OW, and if there wo 1d ame W g3 Own into an ab 35 C 9 - It will make a, - P111 at- at would make ore ;. 
for‘cg does not 111113;an 33(2):; Eclilrflghting ‘gfizgoggsnelar to wipe awayutheall‘zmiyys ti: 15:11: gfxeyg‘fig gigglegggl, hhumid grit 3:13:23; {1333:1111 easily follow. Iligi‘llmbggle :sliiizilth'at ling Iinines of Galgfa’ffillgel‘ séukmngof agngld r T:

0“ Say that your guide 1, ' . OW' m’ng ‘ 5 Gets 0f auroral 1i ht- 30 as not to take on t e o reaming cmyioe ” was alwa - ’ ” /
prfipare you a cam in - lac » “5 gone on to ‘And God Himself Sean - . I t... . g Your course.” y 00 far out of a firstciass indicatimi. Wh ’8 ~°°n“d°’°d *
~ is: :2 he sir-3’ g p a? tile lad  chougutwél’efilsy:2dfifs“’ vowel bp°¥3ieisg231cr§sé¥emd I been trans- whither; serial obligation. to you  his pretty sure of anagrams

, ore i e y to final] h. . s l on ya, baby asw t . y . e was remarka 18 egenii of old th‘ ‘ . 9 58-1 truble elated . i a ore.

Into an ambush for 0 ” ge is red allies that; We thou I 7 cc , Winsome httle thin 1, Voyage downward could v 18 0f getting out; of than. t i at the idea THO

Both y u. git We had safe in our 1. g 9"“ more novel “0" have “ 0b, n ” rouble° “3 Mewmmv 0‘ San Ant '
 assess: sense  liffibtl‘iekil’;   ‘2‘.”  its: oasis:    .o.  13‘; an asset: replied Morgan strainer or an 

“Then what is to be d ' a, to flow f‘r ere ried and ours began wh. h up icate of his own ate n- ground- “now g one end to thé . eep secret, Becomin

. . , t; b v one of you want t . What heated With k 3 some‘

For a moment one, s1r§ . knew i we alkstood. bes1de her and sh 1° Wfisi after all, but a smug p -n gar , Vance and follow 0 walk in ad. . 701‘ about his yard he to
thianlhe said: the Stranger was 5‘19“! and voice,  £2125 Elip‘r‘lii’é’ib‘eri" her,m0ther': 3&3?" that did not in theuieigtclrgbgirfigz “Light” (low—‘11:; t? $2131? ny (ml come out $535193; dgtli‘iiriigigtcmsfs Itlhe fence’ withocl)“:

‘ f on ask - - . . sh . ~- ere Wasa ‘ ' . 1'6 the w' ' ly0 is robusta -
tb‘erg, y my advice, Sir, it is to go no fur- segsribiitgmegiiuwfigh the deStroyer, hours $01221 me :33 cagglzant of a buzzing roar all abo blfi‘Ck dust risiliilgd 1.5%”? apt away, a cloud of $1538 51;): tooafr Fsenfily he turned round amass:

:Yet your dut will no . _ the bab woke pami and the“ foramoment figs} .a rs” dreaded the catastro h In Every fellow, chic ' . _ roof of th 1-11 t e mud find the goal: on the

4; us?» Y t permit you to guide last pnggs of ‘2in klnew 118, and as she felt the my (1):,“ hinged at bv Sliankdig But £8 9 fit the “OW,” shouted Strublek “qufh‘ld to his place What look pdcmcken‘coopv Joyously munching
I . . . e, 1330 ntion b . ears y eXpléjn' '. a ayed and - folle ti, '6 precisely lik ma

I iNo, it Will not Ire r H trembling hand i S 9 Put one tiny the . lng that it; was ,3 you foller me and , I‘ 0 mark pocketbook - . . 9 c red~morocco

I . He aused - g e _0 say, unless—” h- r 7 up to her mother and s 'd - ’ ,moon crossmg Its v3 - . Fused by men i‘orw ’ ’ do“? Spare the wh' - "‘ Wh'Ch Mr. McWhnt bad is
IA! “YP , and Madge qmckly Raid. w isper the old, quaint W d “ _ai in a ducmg the elba d “0113 meridians pro- 1 ’ eve gOttO make 1 1 - n ‘p’ $2,000'1n Government b er p ced
SI .. 0111' manner in) lies th e ‘ 1 t-eva-r-s.” The or 8’ W41“ m-v bed f - ' n flow of the seas ben t’h ".3 few moments th 'p 0“ t'me' 34 goat2 eat' ' (“165' The thought Ofa

blllt th e p a there ls a possi- “ a sweet. glad smile f 11 - 50 which we had no ’ ‘33 the but it had 9 tram Was under - ‘ "‘3 a $2000 breakf t l
‘ u E a you may do so.” ‘ 85nd She was gone Whe 0 0W9d» At ever ‘ - W Progressed. scarcely gone - . Way, blm Crazv. The as ' most drove
' ady, were your father a1 death ueith re there shall be no more .Y .mlle Interest and a . Fliddenly brou in; t a mile when it was run ' ” ' goal“ 33W blood in his eye and
one—that iQ W . , 1 er sorrow nor cryin d creased Within me mazement In- a - g 0 a stand by amt], - .1 Wlth MOW hirter i -'

 i u ere wipe away all tears . 8', an GOd shall The 1' - ' . Ppeal‘lug upon the so , er_1‘1der animal wag .n Puma“?- . At last the
\ from their eyes. and preclgfigmte’ the hthophyl. the stalagmit was 8' woman—a Young 351' of But “‘15 .tune it almost the Zlfiauglht. kmEd wd~ dissected; but
gems abounded in beaut . . e, 01‘ twenty, Perhaps eighteen stomach w E mg not found in her capacioug
Y Vieing All Sight of her J h son tb t was t e bonds—for the very good rea-

o n Struble could scarcely an a 93’ Were safe at home in th 1;
other coat 9 DOC et of

 

   

      

  

 

 

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0.8,, W likes. atnd 8% BY won HAMILTON.
“mug; w , w c wm U “m are “ever I HAD_ been at Reno on Government work,
Lo. the poorlndisn, so he fondly dreams, . unearthing a gang of counterfeiters, and was
Beyoan grave a shadowy chase is urging. return; wcehezggtbuteé-s mg“ Franclisco by
' ‘V hununx' - unds have been “my 0 l 9 n 1101 C- oubtless was a
3 “the ages hlgtrll’em— hard-100351118. 01' rather a green-looking chap,
0: ore, west ard for his immortal scene for such it had been to my interest to appear,
OI bliss the Grecian hero‘s spirit fiew. but beneath the ragged blouse and overalls

4. When his preci itous course, at length

w

v f At lengt’h transformed into a field Elysian.

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,1 bands do look well in the house after night.

 
 

Beyond the pillars of Alcmeme’s son,‘

There blew the west wind, with eternal breath,
There dwelt the heroic few who knew not death,

A city of God, with golden portals bright,
Like clouds agiow in sunset’s gorg

Then throu
Till, won with bathed quofir
wild

Perchance their d

HAPPY mgG-enoons

ar o'er the outer ocean, where the day,
, was done,
The happy ‘ es suffused with level ray.

That never swelled to storm or wintry gale;

In summer where fell not rain nor hail.

Next gladdened long the raptured eye of .faith;
eons .
Uproared its walls, the glorious, heave wraith.
h the new world’s obnos'forest gloom
of Eldorado,
oner doom
wood‘s boundless sha-

Long knig tly seekers
O‘ertook . them in tin:
dow. . ‘
ears the murmurs heard
Of fount of you beside them softly flowing;
Perchance their filming eyes the illuson stirred
Of gilded turrets tomogh the dim boughs glowing.
In to flu  es of sunset sea
 3:058. gm... for happy isles his vision—
ustice, knowledge, common earth may be

‘ Hercules, or Herakles.

 

 

The owners.

FALL NOTIONS—1882.

THE fashions of humanity are as chan
as your last dollar-bill. You have noti

Is
that.

We have also noticed that there are mam ..

changes in the styles this fall, as the first F
com lled the firstchauge. Female costume, it
has n observed, changes faster than husbands
canmskethecha e,anditisdificulttowrite
about because it m be something else before
the article could be completed. '

Thisis the fading seasonof tbeyearandto be
in kee lug you should Wear costumes that are a
little aded. Old silk looks wall trimmed in old

gold.
“Alive nice inventipln is a gent’s sliirtvbosom

t irrepressi e grease spo already
stamped upon it to save the trouble of dropping
somethin on it yourself at dinner.

The ho es in the shoes .of gentlemen Will be
worna little larger this fall and generally at
the tee, and the heelsof ladies’ guitars are; rather-
more to the front than usual- in fact, alittle
laterth .qu advancealittlofurtheri andthen
theyw be directl' at-the toes and ydn will
think from the priu that the woman went the
othizr way, and you will turn in, tbewrong .di—
ch Ion. ‘

Eight-holed glows will be’ ver nice and
stylish and much room. 01’ pen the will
" not be button-holes as they Will be am y on

the fingers. .

As the weather grows cooler straw hats are
being painted back and lined to make them
warmer-looking. *

Last {gear you threw away your fall overcoat
as you tended to get a new one this fall; you
will reconsider the intention and hunt around
for it and get new bottom on it and the binding

Three-Ban! Monte.

 

 

which enveloped me there hung as good a ir
of revolversas ever burned powder, and eep
within me beat a happy heart for my mission
had been successful. had not only broken u
the coiners, but I carried back to ’Frisco wit
me almost ten thousand dollars of their 3 uri-
ous old, to be destroyed at the mint; ard
proo , however, of my seal and success.

I should be well paid; for success is always
better remunerated than failure, no matter
whose may be the fault; and I hoped for ad-
vancement on the force. For I was onl a
Government detective, and willing to w a
bi her rank than the one I held.

was on my way home, laden like' the hun-
ter, with the spoils of my chase, but rather
than ride all night I left he train at Winne-
mucca station, and sought a bed and sup 1' at
the " International Saloon,” kept by one reen,
desiring a good night’s rest and intending to
renew my western journey in the morning.
And it was at the “ International” that I first
met and personally interviewed the famed
“three-card men.” of whose ex loits I had
heard so much. The tale ms in ' wise;

I had eaten my supper and was quietly
smoking a pipe near a little whisky-spotted ta-

his in one corner of the bar the only ublic
room in the frame shanty a “ hote ” be-

side the one in which the meals were Served,

when there came a sudden and unpleasant in-

terruption in the shape of a brawny, .red-whism
, drunken miner, who, seating himself op-

posite, pushed a bottle toward me and growled

m a hoarse tone:

“ Have a drink l” '

It was not an invitation but a command. I

looked up.

“I never take anything after supper, my

friend,” said I, seeking to be rid of my unplea—

sant neighbor.

He looked at me with dull eyes a moment,

and then half-snarled: ,

“Ye’ll break over ' 1' rule tonight, then,

Wrangler, and hev a dnnk. It’s old Bill David-

son w o invites ye l”

I hesitated yet, but there was a dangerous
learn back of the liquor in the man’s eye and

I sought to appease him by. pouring a little

whisky into a glass and raising it to my lips.

It had the desired effect. The drunkard’s anger

vanished, he followed me in a “ fivefinger”

drum, and then wiping his‘mouth chuckled and

turned toward me again.

“Ever pla kesrds, stranger?”

“Yer sel cm,” I returned, dreading a game

with th s half-crazed Opponent.

“Eve! see’d this yer game 0’ three-keerd

“ I’ve heard of it.”
“ Well, now, you jes’ take a fool’s advice an’
let it alone. See here, stranger, I’m a miner, I
am, an’ I l’arued that yere three-card monté
last night. It’s a good game, fur a fool! Stran-

r, it cost me more’n seven hundred dollars to
am it!”

I smiled.

“ That’s expensive.”
- “Yer right. See here!” he continued, in an
animated manner, suddenly loosin his hold of
bottle and glass and diving into t e de tbs of

 

fixed. It will do ver well during these war
times—in Egypt; wh lo the elbows of your
trowsers win he a little more polishedthan last

season.

Gentlemen goin down—street will have the
rag inned a lit e higher up the, back than
usua sopeople can' it plainly and ion h at
your innocence; whi 9 your handkerchie will-
always be worn inthe left pocket of the cthe
cost at home when you want to useit. '

There are a great many changes in stockings
although the stockings themselves are not
changed often enough. Stylish holes are worn
in the heels, for no matter how well the heel
may be darned with patient labor—waiting for
the husband to come home at night—they will
never show.

Flannel around the neck will be much worn
and considered all the rage, either frayed or
folded edges, but the mvailing color will be
red. A little nice em idery will look well.

The flannel must be accompanied with a
corresponding cough to match to attract much
attent on. .

. Gauze umbrellas will not be worn much dur~
ing rains, an as the sunshine is rather com-
fortable the parasols you carry will have no
covers on so sunshine will come through.

Psalm-books will have one 9 devoted to
a looking1glass so when you are a church you
can see i the people behind you are paying
religious attention to the cut of your new
bonnet.

You will begin to reef your linen suits and
bur them away or puttwo or three linen suits
on' or warmth.
. A pair of rubber shoes this kind of weather
hide amultitude of holes in your boots.

A 81,!!!) watch and chain will look well on a
two dollar and a half man.

The general styles for everything this fall
will be utterly on the verge and ocusouant
with the season, for it is written that pride
inast have a fall, and this promises to be the
a .

The fall kind of rouge for the face is the kind
that will make the oung men fall in love with
the girls, and pale aces should now take on the
hues of the turnin leaves, red, and keep up
with nature in its crument. _

As silver jewelryis clear out of fashion no
one will presume to wear any silver in his

pocket. _

The style in falls teeth is—but consult your
dentist. -

One of the worst things to wear out this sea-
son is to wear out your welcome where you are
visiting. Don’t do it; on] half Wear it out.

Belts will be most fash ble mong prim-
fighters this fall, and cuffs will be monopolized
by step—children.

Thamodss in falls hair this fall will depend
altogether on circumstances. ere will be no
frosted bangs for sale, nothithstanding the frost.

Ladies g down the street are expected to
pose as 1 they were going to have a picture
taken, not changing1 the smile, even if she
stumps her too on e sidewalk; she must be
consaruedl unconcerned.

As evory y is now- at home from the sum-
mer resorts, ever y else can now go to
visit them and m e a perfect job of it.

It is now time for the ladies to begin to make
fur-tive allusions at the table to fore and seal-
skin sacks, and make the husband with he was
a fur iner in some fur country.

Now is the acce ted season when a man
sh .uld begin to lay n—lay in his early bed late
in the morning.

It is genera y seen that all the fall prices of
fall goods are on the rise—they being perfectly
“it? got up aggm' th ' ho ld

,fireaoespo on e youngmans s u or
a lit e more renounced this season. (“ Ah,”

bl William ugustus, “ I would rather have

at dear head on my shoulder than the e -

of a majongeneral.” Beware of open etic

‘ Asit gstti ' l ll ill lk
' . . ngcoo or, young swe sw wa

m all!” a sine lar er to keep 03 the breezes.

311:) dresses wil not be made of such ex-
fiewdi terlal this fall, since the young man

so

There mmsny

in coming to time.
fall openings in the city now;
“'0, coal holes in the sidewalks are being replen-
ished for winter.

r ‘Y , con  from the couu attending

£111,811 wa fig hand in hand, w' find it the
V rca r to wear no loves.

Ladies well in plain cashmeres, and hue-

bis pockets. “ I’ll show ye; I’ve got the eerds
an’ I’ll teach ye the game so’s ye’ll keep clear 0’
them cursed cutthroats that work the racks ,”
and he pulled from mmewhere three dirty
cards and’threw them upon the table before

me. .

As he did so, a third party, apparently a
stranger. approached.
“ See!” cried my com nion, “this yere's the
game. Ye bet_on the pictur’ keerd. Ye’re sure
ye see it an’ ye don’t. Try it once.”

I laughed.

“ How foolish I should be when you tell me
beforehand that I would lose.”

“ But ' try it,” he urged; “pick out the

card fer an,” and he threw the pasteboards a
second time.

The new-comer suddenly stepped forward.

“I can pick it out,” said he, and suiting his
action to the word he turned the correct card.
“ Who asked you to tr ?” growled the miner,
turning angrily tow him, then changing
with all a drunken man’s inconsequence he
added, “ But ye can’t do it ag’in! I’ll bet ye
a twenty!”

“ Agreed,” said the other, quietly, depositing

a old piece on the table.

he miner covered i the cards were thrown
and the stranger rai one. It was the “pic-
tur’ card,” and he transferred the forty dollars
to his pocket!
The rage of the dealer was furious, and he at
once raised his bet to one hundred dollars.
Again the other produced the money and won.
A third venture was made with a bet of five
hundred dollars, when, as the cards were about
to be thrown, the winner stepped to my side
and whispered:

“Join me and lend me some money. This
fellow is a fool and we can pluck him!”

In an instant everything was clear before
me. These men were partners, this was
“three—card monté” in earnest, and I was to be
plucked! If I advanced money we would win
until the last and then lose all!

Even as the full truth of the plot was bleached
before my mind’s eye another thought flashed
across my brain. Why not play, pocket the
winnings of good gold and pay the losings in
the spurious coin in my pocket? This I could
do and then, if the town afforded an honest
court and ofilcers enough to arrest the thieves,
I could have them seized for gaming and prove
it by the counterfeit money in their hands! I
determined to try the plan.
Raising my head I replied in a low tone to
the man who had addressed me, and stepped
from the room a moment, as he sup used to take
money from my belt or purse, but u reality to
place my good coin in one pocket and my bad
n another. Then I returned.
The drunken miner was raging.

“Come, fool, will ye bet? Dare ye bet! I’ll
go ye an even five hundred to three!”
I winked to the other and passed him money.
“I’ll play,” he replied to the man of cards,
and piled my gold upon the table.

The game was short, we won. Then the gum-
bler doubled his bet and we won again, and a
third time increasing the stakes, a third time
the right card was turned.
“ Three thousand dollars more gone l” shrieked
the man, simulating a frantic rage; “ I’ll bet ye
once more, five thousand dowul”
This, I felt, was to be our W'aterloo, and be-
fore the money was placed I called mfiunkncwn
partner aside and forced him to de 'ver to me
my share of the spoils alread won, fully one-
half of which was in good gol . Tuen together
we turned to the table and made up the stake,
twenty’flve hundred dollars each. Every do!-
lar that I supplied was counterfeit!

The cards were thrown, and as the fluttered
in the air I thought I detected the ucky one
and when they fell, I thrust forth my hand an
turned it.

It was blank!

“ Won! Won at last, ye blamed fools!"
shrieked the miner, as be swept the gold into

As soon as he had disappeared I turned the
contents of my kets upon the bed and ex-
amined them. I ad otten rid of about twenty—
five hundred dollars in the counterfeit coin and
was ahead almost fifteen hundred of good
money. I began to congratulate myself upon
my success and to wonder where I could find a
po ice ofllcer when a wild cry of rage from the
room below attracted my attention.
“ The cursed thief! His gold is false!”
A shudder ran through me. The gamblers
had found my secret, they would force me to
return my winnings. They might even chowe
to kill me.
I took my pistols and deposited them in my
side coat-poo ets; then I placed all the spurious
coin in my carpet-bag, the good money in my
belt and crept to the window.
Below 8. war of words was raging—I could
hear both gamesters demanding to know
whether I had gone to my room or not and
swearing they would murder me if I did not
give them back their gold!
“For God’s sake, be quiet, boys!” said the
Ego rietor; “ if you yell this way the man will
iven from the house and the whole town

aroused.” .
“ Then he’s here?” said one, in a lower tone.
“ Certainly; in the front room. u stairs.
Hold your tempers a bit. We’ll slip in after
he’s asleep and get the money back and leave
hiscounterfeits in place of it. If he finds it
out he‘ll never dare to squeal.”
“ Curse him !” replied the other,“ he ought to
have his black throat cut! To try to cheat us 3"
It was a good joke, and even in my present
danger I could but laugh silently at the men‘
who had angled for a sheep‘s head and caught a
shark. But time was precious and I immedi-
ately began to plan my escape.
Just beneath my windows was the roof of
the narrow porch which covered the door.
The distance to the ground was less than fifteen
feet. Not far away I could see the lights in
the Express Oflice. Almost without reflection
I determined upon my action.
Taming to the door of my room I secured it
as best I might with a shaky bolt and the table,
then placed my sachel on the bed, drew off
my boots, and quietly slipping onto the porch
roof passed along it to the end of the house and
jumped down.
I am not a. light weight but was always a
good jumper, and I escaped with nothing more
than a good shaking up in the descent. Listen-
ing a moment toassure myself that the gam-
blers were still in the bar and undisturbed, I
silently arose and s d swiftly down the de-
serted street to the press Office.
I told my story to the agent, and exhibited
m secret service star to prove the truth of
w at 1 said. The man listened quietly until
the end. Then he spoke:
“ You’re not the first who has been robbed at
the ‘Intcrnational,’ but you are the first who
has had the good luck to fasten the crime upon
this gangiv Green himself is a member of the
party. hat do you propose to do?”
“Gocback and corral the'entire crowd if I
can find one or two men to help me."
For a moment the out hesitated, than
opening his desk he drew orth a belt with two
heavy pistols attached and buckling it about
his waist said:
“ That den has been a curse to this town long
enough. I’m one of the fellows to help you
break it up and I think I can find another.”
So saying, he pushed open a door behind him
and stepped into a dark room. I could hear
him conversing with some one in low tones for
a moment, and then he reappeared, followed by
a brawny, quick-eyed man of about forty;
evidently a true \Vesterner.
“This is Dick Johnston, one of our special
messengers. He will go with us. Will three
be enough?”
“ Plenty,” said I, “ there are but three to ar—
rest.”
And then in half-whispers we arran ed our
plan of attack. Ten minutes later I eft the
office alone; but through the darkness the others
followed me.
I reached the saloon and paused a moment.
The bar was empty. Evidently the rascals had
already gone up stairs to lunder me. Still in
my unboooed condition, I si eutl followed them.
As I reached the head of t e stairs Icould
hear them. They were endeavoring to unbolt
my door with a piir of pincers. A moment or
two sufliced, and, as it slowly swung open, I
heard a growl from one of the party.
“ By J ove! He’s gone!”
“Never mind,” replied the barman, “we’re
well rid of him, for here’s his sachel with the
gold l”
At the words all three pressed forward and
thered about the suchel, each one laying down
is weapons in order to assist in counting and
dividing the coin which appeared as a knife was
thrust through the heavy leather. This was
the time for action. With a step as noiseless as
that of a panther I crept to the open door and
looking across the room and out of the windows,
I saw what the robbers did not, two shadowy
figures upon the rch roof. The next instant
a quick common rung through the night air:

‘ Up with your hands!”

And as the astounded trio gazed about them
they saw the black muzzles of six heavy revol—
vers grimly facing them, they saw the flash of
the star of the U. S. Secret Service, and, grind
ing their teeth, they threw their quivering
hands into the air and surrendered!

I do not play three-card monté now.

 

 

 

The luck Nugget of Bottom Card.

A MINING EPISODE.

 

BY H. S. KELLER.

 

“ WHOOP! Set ’em up ag’in! Gents, I’m on
the splurge teronight, an’ don’t none 0’ ye fur—
get it, nuther! Theqarefercrous stuff are jist
a-boomiu’ up ter my place; that’s why I’m doin’
the urty tor-night.”

“ ave you found a streak 0’ pay dirt, Pete?"
asked one of the bystanders.

“Ye bet on that lay, an ye’ll win airy time,
my festive chick. Jist the nicest bit 0 amal-
germated metal ye ever laid eyes on,” returned
the first speaker, tossing off three fingers of
“ tanglefoot.”

“How long’ll it pan out payin’l” asked an-
other.

“J ist as long as I hold the reins o’ gover’-
ment on bet!” aured the Other.

“ W at are it; aller or white!”

“A mixtur’ 0’ th. Its ba’r are yaller, an’
its teeth are white as them snow-caps over yor-
der atop o’ the Shasta.”

“ Haw f” exclaimed one.

“ Teeth f” elled another.

“ K’rectl be little ’un’s got long yaller
hm‘r, speakin' in ’tropolis lingo. As fur teeth,
bless yer eyes, pilgrims, them teeth 0’ hem can
cut inter a corn-dodger an’ dervide a pork
sandwich in a style that’s touchin’.”

“What’n thunder hare you got up to yer
shanty?” asked Lem Brown, the bar-tender of
“ The Dandy.”

“The purciestleetle gal ye ever seen. She
only ’rived last night,” said Pete Glauber.

“ Spit out the hull on’t, Pete, seein’ as you’ve
ogened yer cash. The boys are dyin’ to have

t e thing ’lucidated,” interpOsed one of the
gran red—ehirted miners congregated in The
an v.

“ K’rect! but say, gents, s’posin’ we all licker

 

his hat. “ I tolo ye so i”
For a little I raged and swore and sought to
urge the game, but my companion in misery
had suddenly disappeared, and the other, now
sober, laughed in my face openly.
“ Not lac-night, greeny 1” said he, “ some other
ni ht. G -

the hay to my room, if they had a room for
me. he clerk or barkeeper supplied to wants
and then led the way with a tallow d p to a
small bedroom above stairs just over the bar,

 

Somxos SmNGLE.

 

where he left me with the light and my sachel.

big?!”
rushed to t bar, demanded a drink and ,

tor Little Luck Nugget, fur that’s the name the
gel goes under.”

Ever man accepted Pete Glauber’s generous
‘ invitation. After drinking, they fell back and
Pete had the floor:

“Last night ’bout ten o’clock, as I war 01-
ishin’ my shootiu’-irous by the light 0’ my re,
I heard a cry. It was a babby’s cry, an’ all on ye
knows that a hubby’s cry are sumthin’ as warn’t
never yit uttered in Bottom Card. It sent a pecu-
- liar sort 0’ a thrill music like, through airy narve

if thar warn’t a leetle gal with long, yaller hair
a-standin’ out that in the cl‘arin’ back 0’ the
creek, au’ with the silver moonshin’ paintin’
purty pictur’s all ’bout her. She war the purtiest
part 9’ that same pictur’. I’Vhen she seen the door
openm’ she gi’n a leetle cry like fear, ye see.
‘See here, my purty one,’ sea I, ‘ ye needn’t be
’feared 0’ Pete Glauber, fur he’s allers bin 9.
friend ter the gentler sex.’ I didn’t think how
old that sounded then, but it war a quar sort 0’
an address ter gi’n ter a leetle babby. I war
fiustered, ye see, an’ chaw my ole but if I hard-
ly knowed What I war sayin’. She jist gi’n one
look at my phiz, an’ seein’ as it war a squar’ one
—’scuse me, gents—she lit out fur the door, an’
in less than a minute she popped right inter my
arms. I don’t know whar she come from, or
whar she war bound; the hull thing are a mys-
tery ter me, but up ter my shanty she are this
blessed minute, an’ ole yeller Kate, the cook,
are a-tendiu’ to the wants 0’ that purty kritter.
Let’s all licker up ag’in ter the Little Luck N ug~
get 0’ Bottom Card.”
And, as Pete closed, the pilgrims fell in again,
hto a man, and did ample justice to The Dandy’s
uor.
. here was a mystery surrounding the whole
Circumstance of the waif, and her strange entrée.
There was no trace about her whereby one
might place her origin; nothing to enlighten the
minds of those who came in contact with her at
Bottom Card. She became known as Luck
N ugget—the origin of which arose from the fol-
lowing fact:
Before the little one’s comin Pete Glauber
had been known as a most unluciy pilgrim. He
had prospected far and wide; had digged and
delved for many weeks among» the hills and val-
leys adjacent to the camp, and all unsuccess—
fully. His fellow-miners finally began to shun
him; they were just a bit superstitions, and as
Pete was unlucky, they feared their luck would
take wings and fly away if they came in too
close contact with him.
It was all changed now. The little girl
brought luck with her when she came so
strangely into Glauber’s life. His claim, a
well-worked one—and a “ snap ” as well—began
to an out in good style.
be men talked about it; Pete’s change of
finances struck their ideas as something pe-
culiar. Finally one night, while a lot- of them
were gathered in The Dandy, one of them said:
“ I’ve a mind to borrow Glauber’s Little Nug~
“ What fur?” quickly asked another.
“ My dirt don’t come up as rich as I’d like to
see it. Pete’s claim war moughty poor afore
the Nugget came to him. Look at it now! It’s
the best payin’ hole in the whole Bottom Card.”
“ By thunder! that’s so,” uttered a third.
“ I’m goin’ to see if Pete ’ll lend me his Luck
Nugget fur a spell,” and the speaker dashed out
and went in the direction of Pete’s shanty on
the hillside.

The next day the little girl was an occupant

of another about ; and, wonder of wonders, the
owner of that anty began to turn up whole
shovelfuls of pay-dirt!
It was the general subject of conversation
throughout Bottom Card. Superstition reigned
supreme for a six weeks, and Pete Glauber’s
Little Luck Nugget was in constant demand.

 

“ The little girl belongs to me.”

“Eh? Who are e?” asked Pete, putting his

hand upon his revo ver.

“She is my daughter,” simply returned the

other, a finely—dressed stranger who had made

his appearance in Bottom Card about two

hours before.

“ Yer Iproof, stranger?” said Pete, as he took

his  away from his revolver. The other

did not mean fight.

“ Didn’t she drop down here about two years

ago?” asked the stranger.

“She did come here; how, I can’t say.”

“I learned all about it down in the camp,”

explained the stranger; “she belonged to a

arty of travelers going to San Francisco.

hey lost track of her. and could not trace her.

Arelyou enlightened?”
“ fshe sez so. Ah! here comes the blessed

Nugget now!” cried Pete, as the little sunbeam,

with flying footsteps rushed to him. Then, her

eyes caught those of the stranger. A queer

look came across her features. Then—

“Papa, papa! “'here have you been all this

time?” she exclaimed, as she rushed into his

arms.

“ You see,” said the stran er.

“Take hur; she’s yers. e took ood care

on bur, an’ now—good-by to the Luc Nugget

0’ Bottom Card!” said Pete Glauber, softly, as

he turned aside to let the other pass.

 

Science and Invention.

A FISH CLEANING machine, with a capacity of
fifty a minute, has been invented in Portland.

THREE thousand five hundred pounds of
whalebone have been obtained from one whale.

IT is said that the steam power actually in use
throughout the world is equal to 13,500,000 horse
power.

THE proboscis of the musketo consists of a
flexible sheath, containing six distinct surgical
instruments.

ICE frozen by machinery is almost exclu-
sively used in Southern cities, and is furnished
at $1.50 per hundred.

A DRUM manufactory in Massachusetts, es-
tablished in 1853, has converted during that
time 30,000 sheep-skins into drum-heads.

DR. ANDRES and M. Faye both agree that
c clones, tornadoes, and trombes are one and
t e same mechanical phenomenon, and that
their powerful action is due to the force in up-
per currents.

EDISON thinks that telephonic communication
between America and Europe is possible. He
and other inventors have accomplished so much
that anything more they do will scarcely sur-
prise the public.

TWO ninety-foot lathes, said to be the largest
in the world, have been made for their own use
by the South Boston iron works. Each lathe
contains 600,000 pounds of iron, and is intended
for boring out cannon.

A SKULL of heroic size and singular formation
was discovered in a mour-d in the Red River
Valley. The mound is 60 feet in diameter, and
12 feet high. It contained the bones of a dozen
males and females also the bones of various
animals The skull evidently belonged to a
giant. ’

THE body of every spider is furnished with
four little lum s, pierced with tiny holes, from
each of which issues a single thread, and when
a thousand of these from each lump are joined
together, they make the silk line of which the

ider spins its web, and which we call a spi-

er’s thread.

THE use of lime in coal mining has been tried
so successfully in some of the English mines,
that it is believed the use of gunpowder for the
purpose will be abandoned. One great advan-
tage in the use of lime is, that the coal is broken
up much less than when powder is employed.

RECENT geological investigations are thought
to establish the fact that the eastern part of
Kansas, a part of Nebraska, Southern Iowa,
and Northern Missouri were once covered by a
fresh—water lake which received numerous riv-
ers and smaller streams from the outlying re-
gions, the turbid waters of which deposited a
deep sediment.

DR. SIEMENS, President of the British Asso-
ciation, is certain that the steam engine is
doomed. Its fate is first to be ecufined to the
driving of large dynamo machines, which will
distribute force at present supplied by a myriad
small and wasteful steam engines, and to be su-
perseded altogether by the gas engine. Gas and
electricity may be mutua ly hostile, but they
are tounite their forces in order to extirpate
the steam engine, on account of the wasteful-

 

Popular Poems.

——.—<o»————

AT SET 01" SUN.

  
   
  
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
  
    
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
  
  
 
   
 
 
  
 
 
  
    
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
 
   
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
    
   
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
   
   
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
 
   
 
 
  
    
   
   
 
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
     
  
   
    
  
 
 
 
  
    
    
   
 
  
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
   
   
  
   
      
   
 

 

BY ELLA WHEELER.

If we sit down at set of sun

And count the things that we have done,
And counting find

One self-den ing act, one word,

That eased t e heart of him who heard;
One glance most kind,

That fell like sunshine where it went, .

Then we may count that day well spent.

But if through all the livclong day
We’ve cased no heart by yea or nay;

If thro h it all
We‘ve done no t ing that we can trace,
That brought the sunshine to a face;

No act, most small, -
That helped some soul, and nothing cost,
Then count that day as worse than lost.

—th'.’adelphia Times.

‘a..K‘.'\'.l-‘§Zo\.ju1~.~ha.»“rt—fin.HJJ'L‘mW‘ m..vh".,ml~hwwkw ..:-.- 1 < .. 3...... ~—  xv

MULE OF TEXAS.

Mule of Texas, ere we part,
Tell me why you will not start;
Or, it really you must balk,
Pray excuse my wicked talk.
Hear the vow before I go,

I'll be even with you, tho‘.

Evy your long tail unconfined,

\ coed by every passing wind,

B those heels so wondrous swift
hich can men o‘er tree-tops lift;
Bfi those ears that droop so low,
I’ be even with you, tho'.

By those ribs I long to baste,

By your show of d. b. taste,

By the melancholy bray

T at alarms folks miles away,
By Iigur stern resolve to whoa,

I’ 1 even with you, tho‘.

 

Mule of Texas, I am gone;

Think of me, sweet, when alone,

For I fly to get a club;

Then your scarred old back I’ll drub;
If I cannot make you 0,

I’ll be even with you, tgho’.

 

- 202

 

THE GIRLS.

Hear the laughter of the girls—-
Pretty girls.
What a fund of merrimcut each rub}. lip unfurlsl
How theyachatter, chatter, chatter,
In the lmy air of night!
While the stars that oversputter
All the heavens hear their clatter
In a soft and mild delight;
To the tintinnabulation that, unccasing, ever purls
From the irls, girls, girls, girls,
‘irls, girls, girls,
From the wild, capricious, saucy, jaunty girls.
See the flirting of the girls,
Radiant girls!
How the lover’s softened brain wildly whirls
Through the mazes of the ball,
Iglp and down the stately hall!
ow he skips to and fro
And pets ires!
Would that we could tell t e idiot all we know
Of the fires
Into which the false ones hurl
Each new whim—see the flame—how it swirls!
. How it curls!
How it curls!
Better far that they were churls,
Than fall victims to the girls;
To the prattle and the rattle
Of the girls, girls, girls,
Of the girls, iris, girls, girls,
Gir 8. girls, irls—
To the sacking and heart—rac 'ing of the girls!
—Pi0neer-Register.

 

 

 

201

  

THE MODERN SCHO0L-TEACHER.

’Twas Saturday night, and a teacher sat
Alone her task pursuing;

She averaged this, and she averaged that,
Of all that her class was doing.

She reckoned percentage so many boys,
And so man ' girls all counted,

And marked a the tardy and ubsentees,
And to what all the absence amounted.

a... A..- .... g..- ..._..

Names and residence wrote in full
Over man columns and pages;

Canadian, eutonic, African, Celt,
And averaged all their ages.

The date of admission of every one,
And cases of fiagellation;

And prepared a list of graduates
For the county examination.

Her weary head sunk low on her book,
And her weary heart still lower,
For some of her pupils had little brains,
And she could not furnish more.
She sletpt, she dreamed; it seemed she died,
And ‘ er spirit went to Hades.
And they met her there with a question fair,
“ State what the per cent. of your grade is! ’

Ages had slowly rolled away,

caving but partial traces

And the teacher‘s spirit walked one day
In the old familiar laces.

A mound of fossilize< school reports
Attracted her observation,

As high as the State House dome, and as wide
As Boston since annexation.

_._..-..._..._~ ha- . .

a.

*4  of- ._..__~....—..——~——.—.« m.-- W- -

. .A.........._.r.'..........._‘;‘.l
....._. . _/. .v

She came to the spot where they buried her
bones,
And the ground was well built over,
But laborers digging threw a skull,
Once lanted beneath the clover.
A (liscip e of Galen, wandering by,
Paused to look at the diggers;
And plucking the skull up, looked through the

eye.
And saw it was lined with figures.

“ Just as I thought,” said the young M. D.—
“ How easy it is to tell ’em!
Statistics ossifled every fold
Of cerebrum and cerebellum."
" It’s a great curiosity. sure," said Pat,
“ By the hours you can tell the creature
“ Olaynothing stran e,” said the doctor, “that
as a nineteent century teacher."
-—Chicago Tribune.

H‘

 

202

 

THE MINEB’S PROTEGEE.

Wal, you see, it's a queer story, Missy;
The little gal‘s none of our kin;

But, you bet, when the old men go under, .
She’s the one who will handle our tin.

Mv‘ynrd an‘ me’s rough niiuiu’ fellers,
\ c’ve got nary children nor wife.

But we love little yellow-haired Nellie,
An’ we’ll roar her up right—bet yer life.

How old? Wal, she’s nigh eight, I reckon; 
Five years since we brought her out here:
An’ she was the cunnin’est baby
We’d looked at for many a year.
You see, ’twas the time the Apaches
Broke out. Blast the red imps of sin!
The emigrant train crossed their trail, Miss,
An’ the Injuus they scooped ’em allin.

Yes, thar lay men, children. an’ wimmin;
The red devils raised all their ha’r. .
We couldn‘t do nothin’ to help 'em,
So my ard an’ mo buried ’em thar.
We foun one likely-lookin‘ young crc'tur'
Lyin’ out from the rest of the heap; ‘
She was dead, like the rest, an’ Nellie
Lay close by her side—fast asleep.

Wu! ‘twas nigh ninety mile to the settlement;
Bi 1 un’ mc turned the thing in our mind;

An’ at last we concluded to keep her,
An’ bring her up lovin‘ un‘ kind.

We buried hcr mor dud un' mummy,
Likewise all t lPl!‘ unlucky mates.

An’ we named her Noll, urter a sweetheart
My purd had once back in the States.

But the trouhlo we had with that young 'un
Was somethin‘ quite funny to see;
Bill gave her up for a mystery.
Likewise she was too much for me.
Her durncd duds we couldn‘t get on right,
And we cussed ev‘ry but’n au’ string;
But artcr u spell we did better
When we once got the hang of the thing.

An’ she growed 11p quite pertlike an’ bloomin',
We take her to work ev’ry day; ,
While Bill nn’ me’s busy a-miniu’ ,
She’ll sit by the rock pile au’ plafi ‘
An’ she‘s made better men of us b0 h, Miss,
We don't cuss now, nor go on no agree, '
’Cauee we’re workin‘ an’ savin‘ for ellie,
The pride of my old an! an’ me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

' o’ my bod , way own ter my boots. I got up an’
I went to t e door an’ looked out. Darn my socks

ness of the latter in the consumption of fuel.

— 'ttsburg Labor Tribune.

   
   

 

 

 

 

’~ M'- ‘t'atux AM- R-.. - aa,‘ *4 .. "as..- .. .-...

 

 

e-W-P’V
4

  

 

 

 

 

Boo to or 

Published erery Monday morning at nine oc'o 1:.
NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 18, 188:3.

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BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,

98 WILLIAM Sr, NEW YORK.

 

Take Notice.

Serials appearing in this WEEKLY will not
be republished in Library or book form.

 

 

Our Literature.

So much is said, and justly, against a con-
siderahle number of papers and libraries now
on the market, that we beg leave to call the
attention of the public to the following circu-
lar, which we send to all who propose to write
for any of our publications:

Authors who write for our consideration will
bear in mind that _

We prohibit all things OffenSIve to good taste,
in expression or incident—

We prohibit subjects or characters that carry
an immoral taint—

We prohibit the repetition of any occurrence
which, though true, is yet better untold— .

We prohibit what cannot be read With satis-
faction by every right-minded person—old and
young alike—

We require your best work— _

We require unquestioned originalit ——

We require pronounced strength 0 plot and
high dramatic interest of story—

We re uire grace and precision of narrative
style, an correctness in composition.

Authors must be familiar with characters
and places which they introduce, nor attempt
to write in fields of which they have no inti-
mate knowledge.

Those who fail to reach the standard here in-
dicated cannot write acceptably for our several
Libraries, or for any of our publications.

 

 

TO BE GIVEN IN NO. 3.

Albert W. Allen’s
NEW DICK TALBOT ROMANCE,

1 Iron-Heaned Dick,

The Gentleman of the Road.

H Reviving this celebrated ex—Road-Prince and
Terror of Evil-doers in a story of signal interest
and excitement, and giving an episode of wild
life in the California hills that “ puts upon the
, stage ” more than one local celebrity, as‘well as
‘ several of the characters already made famous
in the previous romances of the Injun Dick
series. This new romance

Will Be a Great Hit!

 

IN FOR EARLY USE:
A Brilliant Detective Story!

A Highly Dramatic Revolution
and Exposure of

The Wolves of Washington!

BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS.

A writer of recognized power in this special
field, and whose story will be found no common
tissue of coarse crime and rough rascality but
a wonderfully fine invention—if, indeed, it be
not something more—a light on Washington
hearths and haunts that will seem like a revela-
tion.

r Those Who Write For Us!

As the character of a weekly paper is deter-
mined by the personal character and literary
standingof those who are its especially engaged
contributors, readers who desire what is as-
suredly BEST IN POPULAR LITERATURE have
but to glance at this list of our regular writers
to be assured that in BEADLE's WEEKLY they
have what they seek :—

Col. Prentiss Ingraham,

 

 

Anthony P. Morris,

Albert W. Aiken, Launce Poyntz,
Capt. Fred. Whittaker, Eben E. Rexford,
Capt. Mayne Reid, Edward Willett,
Joseph E. Badger, Jr., Jno. W. Snyder,
Edward L. Wheeler, Fred F. Foster,

Charles Morris, Frank E. Hamilton,

01] Coomes, Paul Pastnor,

C. Dunning Clark, J. Milton Hoffman,
Buffalo Bill, J. M. Merrill,
White Beaver, H. S. Keller,
Buckskin Sam, H. H. Johnson,

Major Dangerfield Burr,
T. C. Harbaugh,

Roger Starbuck,

Rev. Roy Simpson,
Philip S. Warne, Carr Courtenay,
William R. Eyster, etc., etc., etc.,

while our corps of lady contributors is particu-

larly strong—each in her specialty of essay,

sketch, poetry, etc., etc., viz. :—Mrs. L. H.

Knapp, Mrs. Jennie Davis Burton, Frank M.

Imbrie, Mrs. W. H. Clark (Annabel Dwight),

Emilie Clare, Corinne Cushman, Mrs. Mary

Reed Crowell, Annie J. Grannis, Miss M. B.

Stuart (Grace Mortimer), Mattie Dyer Britts,

Abbie C. M’Keever, Fannie May Witt.

The several departments “speak for them-
selves,” and in all things which conduce to the
interest, entertainment and instruction of
readers, BEADLE’S WEEKLY will be second to
no paper in the world!

 

 

 

 

fig.

V-

,I‘.
or

The Wide Awake Papers.

The True Moral of It.

“ANOTHER young man in a position of trust falls
into bad company, leads a fast life, ambles, embez-

 

' zles $19,000, and is a fugitive. Mora : There is none.

It was worn out long ago.”

So says the editor of the New York Tribune, I
do not agree with him. The moral of such stories
is not worn out, though it may be disregarded.
But when was youth ever given to heeding mor-
als? And this last case of embezzlement, dis-
honor, and flight has as clear and Vigorous .a
moral as any that ever preceded it. True it
may be of little account to point it out but it is
there just the same. And it is this: ‘he aver-
a e young man of the present day is an idiot.

hat is notapleasant thing to have to say,
even toso selcct and intimate an audience as
one made up of Wide Awake readers; but it is a
fact, pleasant or unpleasant. Who, that. was
not an idiot, would voluntarily exchange inde-
pendence and fearlessness for haunting anxieties
and craven fear? Freedom forslavery? Honor
for disgrace? Respectability for criminality?
Ha piness for misery? Home and. friends and
a p ace among honest men for exde or a dun~
geon and the companionship of the outcast and
the vile? Who, that was not an idiot, I say, would
voluntarily make these exchanges? Voluntarily,
mind you, for ever young man who enters upon
the course of dissrpation, of gambling—poker-
playing, betting speculation, It is all the same,
all gambling—of unwarrantable extravagance,
which leads to the use of money in excess of
that which is absolutely his tospend, does it vol-
untarily, knowingly. True, he may be tempted;
every day, every hour of life holds some temp-
tation to wrongdoing; but he is not a sinner be-
cause tempted, nor does he ever becomes victim
to tem tation; the wrong is never forced upon
him; if) he does it, it is because he chooses it.
So with the company we keep. It is nonsense
to talk about a young man “ falling ” into bad
company, as if he had no choice in the matter
of acquaintances. As a rule, young men choose
their company and do not “fall” into it, good
or bad; and if in making their choice they are
occasionally deceived, the deception is soon
enough discovered; it then becomes optional
with them to continue or drop the acquaintance
of those whose ways are dishonorable.
If, then, a young man chooses companions
whose morals are questionable or unstable,
whose habits are bad or tend to evil results,
and whose influence is against, rather than for,
honor and right, he is wholly inexcusable and
positively idiotic. He knows that he is sur-
rounding himself with bad influences and
chooses to do so. He knows that the habits of
his friends, if imitated, must lead to wasteful-
ness, extravagance, and sin; yet he chooses to
have such friends. Is that not idiotic?
In the beginning of his career, no boy who
has even a modicum of common sense is so
blinded by persistency in evil-thinking and
evil-doing as not to be able to discriminate be-
tween right and wrong—~ev2n to weigh the
probable effect Of each new friend he makes,
and each new habit he forms, upon his future;
nor so weak of will as not to be able to choose
the right. He knows that companions who
have no fixed principles of right or wrong, who
believe that Sin is only synonymous with dis-
covery, who take daily drinks, who are ex-
travagant smokers, who play pool for drinks
and billiards for bets, who make wagers on
races, and play cards for money, are compan-
ions who can be nothin but harmful tohim;
that they will never be p him on to any re-
spectable, successful, or honorable place in life.
He knows that to indulge in‘ these habits is to
hurt his prospects both socially and in a busi-
ness way. If then he persists in keeping such
company and in forming evil habits, knowing
that they must lead to the ruin of all that
makes a man’s life worth the living, is not that
idiotic?
He may claim that he has a good time at his
drinking. his gambling, at races and carousals,
and that he believes in a short life and a merry
one; but is he an the less idiotic that he
chooses to wreck his res ectabilit and honor,
and waste his health and is manliness, and de-
base his powers, physical and mental. in de-
bauchery and shame rather than in making the
most of the glorious, the God-given, the almost
divine gift of manhood, and seeking to win a
clean, pure, honest, respected, successful, per-
haps famous, place among men?
The young man in question, in this latest case
of embezzlement, received a salary of $1,000 a
year. That is not a large salary, though man
men support a wife and family u on as much
and even less. Still, it was not a arge salary,
even for this young man who had no wife to
support. But, supposing he paid seven dollars
a week for board, seventy-five cents a week for
washing, three dollars a week for lunches and
car-fares, and two hundred dollars a year for
clothes, it would still leave him a mar in of
forty dollars a year for etceteras an two
hundred to put in the bark. Moreover, if
he was a smart, conscientious, faithful, energetic
clerk, he was sure to get increased salaries
as the years went on, and to be able to ac-
cumulate a bank account faster. With economy
——even with moderate prudence~in a few
years’ time he would have been in a position
to 0 into business by himself‘ at least he
won d have had the nucleus of a air fortune in
his hands. A smoker, though, would consume
the extra two hundred dollars a year in the
smoking of _five cigars a day. A drinker as
well—drinking, say, two fifteen cent drinks a
day—would be in debt one hundred and ten
dollars at the year’s end. If, besides smoking
and drinking, a man who gets a salary of a
thousand a year plays poker, and bets on races,
and spends money on billiards, l, theaters,
dinners, and other dissipatious, w ere does any
one With common sense suppose he gets that
money? Where does he, himself, expect to get
money enough to indulge in these extrava-
gances and dissipations when he begins them!
He knows that he cannot afford them, that he
must “ put up for them ” by money dishonestly
borrowed—because he has not the means where-
w1th to pay it—or money deliberately stolen.
Is not, then, the young man who commences
such a career of evil habits, extravagance and
sin, knowmg the shame and crime into which
It must irretrIevabl y lead him, a hopeless, shame-
ful, abominable idiot?
_ The moral worn out to the stories of fast liv—
Ing and embezzlement? No! Say ratherit is
mtensrfied With each new case, and teaches that
the men of our dayare growing less and less
sensible, less and less alive to honor and integ-
rity, less endless conscious of the glory of the
manhood which so many of them are making
haste to steep In the blackest depths of ruinous
habits, disgrace, and crime!

BELLE BRIGHT.

h

IN these days of political degeneracy it is not
comforting to compare our leaders with the
great men of the past—Webster, Calhoun, Clay,
Benton, Seward, Marcy, Hayne, Sumner, etc.,
whose bram power was the sole source of their
Influence over men. How inferior and un-
worthy seem our present race of politicians and
statesmen as contrasted with these intellectual
giants! Shall we ever again behold in our pub-
lic places, such power, wisdom and patriotic de-
votion to country? We despair of it. Every-
where the wholly selfish element of politics
seems to lead and direct. Parties are controlled
by “ b0sses ” who use their “ machines” to ele-
vate.their own “ workers” to power. The con-
test Is for the offices. Merit, fitness, morality
efficiency, are the last qualities sought for in a
candidate; the sole question is—can he command
a certain vote? If he can’t the brains of aWeb-
ster must stand aside for the intriguing blather-
skite who can promise the votes. No wonder a
very large class of people are sick of politics,
and refuse to vote! Our young men have a big
work before them if they would dethrone dema-
gogues and professional politicians and put on
guard only the best brains and talent of the

 

great Republic.

 

PIRESIDE PANCIES.

 

OF all the cosiest, cheeriest and most home-
like places in all the wide, wide world is the snug
little corner of the chimney-place besnie the wood
fire! We who remember that place in the dear
old home, and have had to go out into the world
to seek our fortunes and earn our daily bread,
cannot ever for at it; and of all spots in
the world it hol s the dearest place in our
hearts. . _

How we long to return to the old familiar
haunt, and how much we think of the many
happy hours we passed before those blazing logs,
and reamed sweet dreams of the dim and dis-
tant future! . _

The dullest day and stormiest night had no
effect on that cheerful fire. Its mission seemed
to be to keep us warm, to banish gloom, scare
away the blues and shed cheerfulness _all around
and about, and truly did it fulfill Its blessed
mission. Would that each living soul fulfilled
its mission as well!

How man plans formed, how many plots
laid before t at fire: how we read—or strived
to read—our destinies in the ashes, forming
castles and caves, churches and theaters, and see-
ing faces and forms which had no counterpart
in real life! _

What matter if the room were plain, and the
furniture homely: — this cheerful fire made
everythin look bright upon which it shone,
and we a ways felt a little regret at the a -

reach of warm weather, because we needed t e
Blazing logs no more and the fireplace was bid-
den from sight by the fire-screen.

Did ever stories sound more interesting than
those told before that fire? Did ever apples
taste sweeter than those roasted before it; or
did ever potatoes seem more palatable than
those cooked in its ashes?

How we hated the time to come when we
must retire for the night; how we let the clock
tick on and “ make believe ” the hour was not
as late as the dial indicated.

The room containing that cosey fireplace
was sacred to the memory of everything that
could go to make up the sum of human hap-
piness be-cause it was mother’s and father’s
room.

Your stoves and furnaces may be all the
fashion, may be magnificent in appearance or
massive in size, and cost you hundreds of dol-
lars; but there is not that comfort in them that
you can find in an old-fashioned open fireplace
with its homely andirons and smoke-begrimed
bricks. Maybe you can see no beauty in them
—lhese reminders of bygone days—but to me I
never see these chimney-places but I find beau-
ties in them because they are endeared to me
by so many pleasant recollections. The adage
avers that “ the useful and beautiful are never
apart.” Are not these open fireplaces useful in
more than one sense of the word? So, surely,
you cannot help styling them beautiful.

Before these chimney embrasures has not the
sweet, real love-story been told and acted?
Have not hearts been pledged to each other be-
fore the dancing of the merry, merry flames?
Children, youths. husbands and wives, fathers
and mothers, and even the dear grandparents
have never tired of gazing into the glowing
hearth—the young, to dream of the future—the
old. of the past.

IV ill Carlton deemed the old house which the
farmer and his wife were leaving to be endowed
with human feeling; at least he put such words
in the mouth of the farmer, and, in him, the

t seemed to express his Own sentiments; so,
am often inclined to think these old fire—
laces are more than what they seem to be, and
look on them with a feeling almost akin to
alf-ction.

Oftentimes I wonder if the dear old fire-
place misses those who have left the homestead,
and if it is not glad to welcome those who have
wandered and have once more bent their steps
tothe old familiar hearthstone? So also, do I
wonder if it ever wonders why those loved ones,
who have gone to rest in the “ city on the hill,”
never, never come back, and why tears come to
the eyes of those left when the names of the de-
parted ones are mentioned?

Yes, time goes on. and one of these days the
old bearthstone will miss us also, when we
no more return to enjoy the warmth, light
and comfort it sends forth. Others will take
our places; but shall we be as forgotten by this
chimney corner as we shall by those of human
kind! Oh, I hope not!

POLLY PARLEY.

 

Mosaics.

ARRANGED BY R. ARUNDEL SIMPSON, LL. D.

 

 

I.——Perseverance.

“ I WILL not let thee go. except thou bless
me.” —GENESIs xxxii. 26.
“And he loved also Rachel more than Leah,
and served with him yet seven other years.”
—GENESIS xxix. 30.
“ AND they compassed the city, and returned
into the camp. So they did six days.
“ And it came to pass on the seventh daythat
the rose early about the dawning of the day,
an compassed the city after the same manner
seven times.” -—JOSHUA vi. 14, 15.
. “And she wept before him seven days: and
It came to pass on the seventh day that he told
her, because she sore entreated him.”
—JUDGEs xiv. 17.
“And Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave
thee, or to return from following after thee;
for whither thou goest, I will go, and where
thou lodgest, l‘will lodge: thy people shall be
my people, and thy God my God.”
—RU'rH i. 16.
“ Wait on the Lord; be of good courage,‘and
He shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on
the Lord.” —PSALM xxvii. 14.
. “While I live will I praise the Lord; I will
singpraises unto my God while I have my be-
Ing.’ —PSALM cxlvi. 2.
“ Train up a child in the way he should go;
and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”
—-Paovnans  6.
“ Be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day
long; for surely there is an end, and thine ex-
pectation shall not be cut off.”
—PROVERBS xxiii. 17, 18.
“In the way of Th 'ud ments hav
waited for Thee.” y J —§SA1AH xxvie.3 8.we

“Blessed is he that waiteth, and cometh to
ghe thousand three hundred and five and thirty

ays.

“But go thy way till the end be; for thou
shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of
the days.” —DANIEL xii. 12, 13.

.“ And many charged him that he should hold
his peace; but he cried the morea great deal,
Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.”

—S'r. MARK x. 48.

“He said, within himself, though I fear not
God. nor regard man;

_“ Yet because this widow troubleth me, I
Will avenge her, lest by her continual coming
she weary me.” —S'r. LUKE xviii. 4, 5.

“They continued daily, with one accord. in
the temple.” —-ACTS ii. 46.

“Praying always with all prayer and sup-
plication m the spirit, and watching thereunto
with all perseverance and supplication for all
saints. —EPHESIANS vi. 18.

“ Rejoice evermore.

" Pray without ceasing.”

—I THESSALONIANS v. 16, 17.

“Continue in this doctrine; for in d i
this thou shalt both save thyself. and them :htfi
hear thee.” l TIMOTHY iv. 16.

“Let us not be weary in Well doing; fdr in
due season we shall reap if we faint not.”

-—GALATIANS vi. 9.

‘ “ Let gs offer the sacrifice of praise con«

tinually. —— saws xiii. 15.

 

 

llip Hap Notes.

OUR athletes have had an exceptionally fine
season. Outdoorasports have flourished and
base-ball and cricfit are still booming. “ N oth-
ing short of a miracle can prevent the young men
of this country from becoming men of muscle.
They are bent on development. Physically they
want to excel all the world. If they would
onlv strive to do great things morally and in-
tellectually they would be the greatest race of
men on the globe.” So says one who ma be
called an America-phobist; but such tal is
much like brag. ,Judging by the average
young fellows one meets everywhere this
growth of muscle hasn’t put in an appearance,
yet, to any great extent.

 

 

WE pays our money and takes our choice;
and big money, too, for the blessed privde e of
seeing and hearing the forei n celebrities rop-
ping in by every steamer— rs. Langtry, Nils-
son, Patti, Theo, Salvini, “’yndham, etc., etc.
Considering how much it costs to import these
lyric and dramatic “stars,” we ought to be
ver happy—it is so “elevating,” you see, and
sue a pleasure to pay their prices. Of course
only the rich can enJoy their presence; but, as
it is the rich who most need “ elevating,” it is a
great comfort to the poor to have these stars
drop down upon us in a steady shower.

 

FROM the daily reports of doings on Wall
street we have such items as these:

“Boston advices state that Mr. Vanderbilt has
sold the greater part of his Atchison stock. It is
said that he is realizing on investment outside of his
specialties for the purpose of being better prepared
for a new scheme. ’

“The general man ers of the Union Pacific and
Denver and Rio Grant e met today in Denver to ar-
range pool freight rates on the lines of these roads
running west of Denver."

Little paragraphs—oan a passing mention——
but how significant! T e ower of money is
might and will prevail. anderbilt gathers
his mi lions for a new “scheme.” Capital or
corporate combinations can so dictate terms
and prices that every man, woman and child
in the land must pay the enforced tribute of
the “pool.” The mone king goes into the
market and buys up our ood products, and thus
adds enormously to their cost to the consumer.
Everywhere this monster, Capital, is being used
to rapidly augment its power for seizing and
controlling all the best elements of the land,
and the people—the workers—the consumers——
begin to cry, “ Oh, Lord! how long—how long!”

POOR Oscar is in eclipse. We don’t hear of
him any more. He did go down New York
Bay to welcome the “ Jersey Lil ,” and we are
told that Mrs. Langtry smil her sweetest
when she clasped his hand. But it is the end of
the aesthete. The comet is not more surely on
the wane than this lank professor of the ta—ta
philosophy. He can aflord to retire, however,
seeing that his exhibition of his hair, cloak and
legs has netted him a snug sum of money; and
he can afford, too, to laugh at the silly syco-
phancy he has witnessed in “ our best society,”
which, at his approach, kissed his gloved digits
and simpered at his delicate references to the
color of their costumes, to the moral effect of a
cow in the pasture, the utility of the sunflower
as a symbol, the high inspiration of ellow in
the garter, and the shocking insensibility of
men to impressions of the beautiful. Oscar
ought to be a happy man even if his occu tion
as an aesthete is gone, for he has been a ‘ lion,”
he has made money and he can now take his pick
of any one of several thousand American girls
of fortune who do so long to marry a soulful
Englishman.

 

OUR Government is at last solving the “In-
dian question” in a sensible wa . The begin-
ning is small, but the results wil tell. It is by
educating the best children, both boys and
girls. of the savages who have so long bafiied
all efforts to subdue them or make them self-
supporting. A late dispatch announces the
arrival at Carlisle, Pa, of nineteen new pupils
for the Indian school. Twelve.of them are
Navajoes, from Arizona; three Pueblas, from
the village of Iselta and Acoma, New Mexico;
two Ossawatomies, and two Sacs and Foxes,
from Indian Territory; two of the Navajoes
are the sons of Marmelito, the principal chief,
and two of the Pueblas are granddaughters of
Jeron, ex-Governor of Pueblo Iselta. The
Indian school has now a total of 314 pupils, who
are, we are told, quick to learn, easily managed,
and soon lose all their savage tastes and in-
stincts. A considerable number have alread
returned to their tribesto commence the wor
of civilization. This is the beginning of the
end. In another generation, probably, all
tribes within our borders will be as self-sup-
porting as the tribes of the Indian Territo
now are, and we shall bear no more of their
bloody work, nor waste millions of money
yearly in their sup rt. A consummation dc.
voutly to be wish for.

 

_A QUEER case is on the docket for trial in a
Pittsbu rg court. A profesional base-ball player,
who hires himself out at a stipulated rate to
run the risk of getting his knee-pans smashed or
his fingers fractured, is sued for $1,000 dama
because he failed to play for the Allegheny Club
against DetrOIt. “ Base-ball circles all over the
country are excited over the case,” a sporting
journal says; but as the very allegation reveals
the fact that champion base-ball clubs are made
up of hired experts, for purely gambling pur-
poses, it is not likely to enhance the interest of
sens1ble people in these sporting organizations.

 

THE odd statement comes to us that in Eng-
land clerks are suffering seveme from the com-
petition of Germans. No matter how small a
salary the English clerk will work for, there
may alway be found a German who will do the
same work for less money. Furthermore, the
Germans, as a rule, offer far better value for
the money than their English competitors. The
German clerk is industrious, and though a Teu-
tonic teetotaller is an undiscovered quantity, he
never .gets drunk. He is almost invariably a
good linguist, while Englishmen of his class sel-
dom s ak any but their own language.

Wel , in England as everywhere else, it has
has come to Just thisz—that the best qualified
man Wins. The men of the future are those
who are not afraid of work, who shirk no duty
for pride’s sake, who spend no money which
theydo not honestly earn, and live scrupulously
wu in their Income. When our young men—-
our American‘boys—full realize that if the
are to maintain an ascen ancy in politics, busi-
ness, society and education it must be by sha
competition with a very enterprising, industri-
ous. and intelligent foreign element, it will be
their surest promfiselclif success; and if the com—
ing_among us 0 t cse forei eIs com ls the
native to adopt the foreigner’sggconomylhend in-
dustry, it will certainly be a good thing.

 

“ Mas. LILLIE DEVEREUX BLAKE has been
firing the woman heart ” out in Nebraska of
which State she says: ,

. “It is indeed a wonderful State. 5 ‘
in rolling prairie in every directmnirgtgiglrlcgd axial;
magnificent fields of rich corn or gathered buy a
study in yellow and brown as it spreads out under
the clear sky, with the sun shining in dazzling bril-
gggqyr'fipéngvtpe  allways blowing, blowing wild
r a an w
fences, no trees and no bill‘d‘ssl’l'lere are no Stones, no
No stones, no fences, no trees, no birds! Is
that the reason why the woman suifragists
have made Nebraska their battle-ground? No
stones to be shied at Susan’s or Lillie's head—no
fences for them to climb when they run away
from a prairie-dOg—no trees from whose limb
drops the suggestive-noosed rope—no birds
whose “ caw! caw i” shall frighten sisters
Lucy and Phoebe and Elizabeth off the stump,
and make them take refuge .
None of these in Nebraska; so, on the 7th. the
battle of the sexes is to come off in its wind-
swept precmcts, and the country waits the
issue With inflated cheeks.

 

COLONEL SIGNAL.

Correspondents’ Column.

[This column is open to all correspondents. in-
quiries answered as fully and as promptly as circum-
stances will permit. Contributions not entered as
“ declined " may be considered accepted. No MSS.
returned unless stamps are mclosedJ

Declined: " Forgotten" “ A Pretty Kettle of Fish ;"

 

“ Nonsense Verses;" " Projecting a Mulc;” “Sandy
Bob;” “ A Hole in the Ground;” “The Dead Miner s
\Vill;" “ Trust Not;” “Vision of Mt. Ranier;" “ The

Ghost of the Peak ;” “ How J0e White Split the Differ-
ence;” “ After Ton for You, Sir!" “ A Saturday Eve
Accom animent;” “ Comets to Order;" “The Be-
peater; ’ “ A High Private."

In H. Garibaldi did live in this country several
years.

HANK K. M. You are not too old to learn a trade.
DO it, and thus have steady occupation.

Bovs or BINTON. Organize the club. See BEA-
nLE’s DIME Drum for all necessary instruction,
andlfgi‘;l the Rules of Order for governing a meeting
or c o te.

Cinnsz B. If you still admire the lady, yet can-
not “see your way clear” to show your regard. she
is quite right in rcceivmg the attentions of other
gentlemen.

HORA'HO Epps. The Rio Grande river is the bound-
ary line between Texas and Mexico. The Staked
Plains (Llano Estacado) is a vast sterile reion in
Northwestern Texas and Southeastern New exico.

S'r. PATRICK. To be eligible to vote a man must be
either a native-born or naturalized citizen, and must
have lived in the State one year the county four

months, and the election district thirty days. It is
a crime to vote illegally.
Incoo. The quotation is from Shakes are's “As

You Like It," Act 2, Scene 1, and is as to ows:

“ And this our life, exempt from ublic haunt,
Finds tongues in tr books in t e running brooks,
Sermons in stones, an good in everything."

TROY FOUNDRY. The Hot Air Engine of Ericsson
has almost gone out of use because of its bulk and
encral inutility as compared with other engines.
e know of no electric engine of ten-horse power,
or of any other power that is likely to become a com-
petitor of steam.

SPRINGFIELD JOHN. There are but five States in
the Union where the Chief Magistrate is elected an-
nually. They are as follows, with the amount of sal-
ary appended: Maine, salary 82,500; Massachusetts,
$5,000; Michigan, $1,000; New Hampshire, $1,000;
Rhode Island, 81,000.

CANDIDATE. A betrothal finiis commonly worn
by a lady on the first finger of t e left hand; a mar-
riage ring on the third finger of the same hand, this
finger being chosen in very ancient times, when it
was believed that it there pressed on a vein which
communicated directly with the heart.

HENRY E. K. Boys not under 15 years of age are
received on the St. Mary’s, seboolshi , rovided
they are not otherwise obfectionable. T e s ip goes
awa ' and from place to p ace often enough to give
the ys proper training in seamanship. Write to
Superintendent Commander Henry Erbcn, U. S. N .,
care of Chamber of Commerce, New York.

measrnn PETER. The first steamer that ever
ran from New York to Liverme was the Savannah,
in 1819. She made the ssage in twent '-six days
with steam and sail. he was a side-w celer. It
was not until 1818 that regular navigation by steam-
ers began between this country and England. In
that car the Great Western made the trip from
New or]: to Bristol in ei hteen days. Cornelius
Fslandgrbilt was then runn a ferry to Staten
an .

A. W. S. asks: “What is the diflerence between
an amateur and a connoisseur!” An amateur is a
person devoted to some particular study, pursuit, or
science or who has a taste for all the arts; but more
especial] one who cultivates some particular art
from a Kindness for it, but not as a profession. A
connoisseur is a person who is so skilled or well
versed in any art, particularly painting, music, or
gcglpture, as to be considered an excellent master or
u ge.

Loom. The least you can do to regain the lady‘s
favor is to send her a written apolo and ask per-
mission to call u n her. If your ormer relations
are reestablishe , you must take great care not to
offend her in like manner again; as however freely
she in forgive on she will be more ready than
ever be ore to (li rust you.-——Our rule would be that
a man should marry a woman several ears younger
than himself; but if a couple are wel mated in all
other respects the fact that they are of the same
age, or even that the lady is a year or two older,
should not be a bar to the marriage.

RUFUS F. Goon asks: “ Where do the largest trees
grow in America?" The largest trees in America
are found in California and in small groves on the
Sierra Nevada. The best known group is the “.Big
Trw Grove." This contains nearly a hundred mam-
moth trees within fifty acres and is in Calaveras
county. the Yosemite ‘Valley, in Marl sa
county, are other famous clusters. Many of t ese
are from 275 to 375 feet high, and from 25 to 34 feet
in diameter, and exceedingly graceful in their pro-
portions. The age of some of those felled has been
estimated at from 2,000 to 2,500 years.

VINCENT SAGE. Perhaps you are not as injured a
young manas you imagine. Lovers are apt to be
very inconsiderate in rd to such matters, and
have little idea of the rapid flight of time, when that
time is spent in .the com y of their loved one.
The young lady‘s panen s are simply just and
rightfully mindful of her health. Su pose, for a lit-
tle while, you try the Ian of leav ng early. Be
guided by the clock, an not b your own idea of
time—In enterin a restaurant egentleman opens
the door and the y precedes him.—A mixture of
{luaiinr and bitter apples will slightly darken the

GEORGE R. S. The 10 bridge in this country
is the one which t e Ohio river at Louisville.
It is butafew fee less than a mile in le h and
its cost was $2,016,819.—The Prince of W es was
married at Windsor, March 10th, 1863, to Alexandra,
eldest dau hter of Christian lX., of Denmark. Alex-
andra is a beautiful and gracious lady, the best be-
loved b the English people of all Victoria‘s daugh-
teis-inv aw.—We do not recommend entire absti-
nence. Modify the quantity of food you take and do
not eat fatty or saccharine articles of diet. Take
Eighty of physical exercise and we think you will
(1 yourself much benefited.

En. W. G. There would be no impropriety in ask-
ing the young ladies before you leave the place if
it would be a cable to them to correspond with
you. They w' be at perfect liberty to refuse, and
you must not urge the matter but acce t their de-
cision without a murmur. And their s ightest and
most ' t must be construed by you
intoarefusal, as it would not do to force a corre-
s ndence upon them.—All persons born in the

nited States, regardless of the nativity of their
parents, are Americana—Never sign a letter with
your initials. Use your full name whether you are
writing to a friend or stranger.

OLIan Amv Lynn, Mass, asks: :‘What is the
best soap for shaving?"—Brown Windsor is excel-
lent; but better still is a shaving cream made by

utting half a pound of soft soap and a pint of the

t alcohol in a deep earthen jar. Place the jar in
a kettle of boiling water and keep the water at boil-
Iug point final] t e soap isdissolved. Perfume this
wi h some essential oil, and pour it into widemouthed
glass or china bottles for use. This is a splendid
article, especially for any one having a tender face.
Dip your brush in hot water, then slightly in the
cream, brush our face briskly with it and you have
instantly a rich lather. Try it.

GEORGE PARKER. The District of Columbia, each
Congressional District and each Territory, is en-
titled to have one cadet at the West Point Academy,
yearly- and ten are also up inted yearly at large.
—Ham et was a celebra Danish prince whose
sto is told by Saxo-Grammaticus. and afterward
by hakespeare in his mgedfv of Hamlet.—Fog is
the result of condensation o the aqueous vapor
present in the air through a lowering of tempera-

ure.— rd Darnley, husband of Queen Margc of
Scotland and father of James I. at ‘ England, ot-
land, France and Ireland,” was a Stuart—It is ab.
surd to consider slippers an “ unlucky gift.“ Ac-
cept them, by all means.

REX. Napoleon II. was the son of Napoleon I. and
never ascended the throne. Napoleon I. was the
famous Napoleon Bonaparte Who died in 1821. Na-

Icon 11., whose real name was Napoleon Francois

harles Joseph Bonaparte, was the son of Napoleon
I. and Marie Louisa, and died when he was but
twenty-one years old. Napoleon III., or Charles
Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, generally called Louis
Nappleon, was the son of Louis Bonaparte, Kin
of olland. and nephew of Napoleon 1., Emperor o
the last French emperor. Be-
tween the reigns of Napoleon I. and N 3 Icon 111.,
Louis XVIII., Charles K, and Louis hilippe 1.,
reigned over the French as kings.

STRAWBERRY Gaowm Your strawberry beds
should have been attended to in September and
your new beds made and planted then. The “Photo ”
and “ Captain Jack” are excellent berries for can-
ning but are not always to be depended upon.
“Miner’s Prolific" is a rofltable berry; and the
“Manchester” is one o the most productive va-
rieties. . “_Gipsey ” and “Seneca Queen " are splen-
did varieties, and so are the “ CharlesDowniiag ‘ and
“ Duncan," if they have plenty of room and are well
cultivated._ Aha Which yields enormously and is
very good of highly cultivated is the “ Crescent.” It

the French. He was

 

should  planted in rows, alternately, With the
‘ Wilson," or “ Charles Downing.”

 

 

 

...“_,_

 

 

 

 

 
   
  
  
 
 

 

 

 

I.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

THE WOREILAN’S some.

BY CLARENCE A. FONEBDEN.

 

I will write the songs of the workingman,

And I’ll sing them, too for am not I one?
Yea, I belong to the brorherhood,

And I‘ll work and sing till the work be done—
Till the whole be finished spick and Span,

And rounded off in the homely shop,
Where honest toil and sweet content

Give Life and Time their noblest prop.

Then, comrades, come and sing with me,
To the end of the toilsome, wea days;
Blend we our songs with the din 0 work
Till the whole world join in labor‘s raise;
With the hammer-’3 twang and shove s thud,
And the steaming engine‘s whistle shrill,
Let the song of the workingman be heard
Till the heavens and earth with the echoes fill.

To the plow, to the plane, in field or shop,
Go we to the task with a merry so
And the toil and moil shall be made a sweet
To the heart and hand of the working throng.
And anon when brawn and brain unite
ln God and Nature's righteous plan,
The world shall giVe all honordue
To the honest, upright workmgman.

Who tills the and with his own right hand,
And niakesiligbread with the might of brawn,
Shall awake from slumber‘s sweet repose
Refreshed and blast on the morrow‘s dawn;
Who rin the ax and whirrs the saw,
As rig tl becometh him who can,
Proclaims the world, in his homely way,
There is honor due to the workingman.

The manliest men on earth to-day
Are they who work and still rejoice;
Who well life’s brunt and burden bear
And hymn its praise with a grateful voice;
Fach treads the earth as a noble man,
God‘s likeness in his honest face.
And shall in the whited li ht of time
Inthe rank of heroes t 'e his place.

 

lnhn Armstrong, Mechanic;

From the Bottom to the Top of the
Ladder.

A Story of How a Man Can Rise in America.

 

BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKER,

AUTHOR or “NEKO, KING or THE muss,”
"KAN IN RED.” “ONE EYE. THE CAN—
NONEEB,” ETC , ETC.

CHAPTER. I.
THE LOWEST ROUND.

“ CLANG, clung. CLANGll Clangity—clang,
CLANG. CLANG!!!”

Tue ha umers rung on iron plate and rivet-
head. all over the huge shed that held so many
hundreds of grimy workmen and bore outside,
in letters twelve feet high, the legend:

“EXCELSIOR IRON WORKS.”

The din was deafening. Men could only talk
tugother by looks and signs, words being use-
lem. unless one bellowed in the ear of the
other, when it sounded like a far-OE whisper.

All over the shed men were hard at work,
and the only idle person to be seen was a tall.
awkwarddooking young fellow, who stood at
the door, meringi to the dark interior of the
great workshop, as if he wished he were among
the” workers. '

Outside, in the dust glare of the street, all
was hot and listless, or it was the middle of
July; within, all was dark, save for the red
glow of forge and furnace, while smoke-be-
grimed men worked amid the fires, like gnomes
in a cavern of the lower world.

Yet the man outside wished he were inside.
He watched with intense interest the huge
c: anes that carried masses of glowing metal
from furnace to anvil. When a dozen men,
armed with sledges, flow at one of these masses
and attacked it fiercely, he positively panted
with excitement.

“ Wouldn’t I like to be one of them!” he mut—
tered. “ Oh, if I could only get a job here!”

He looked lo and thin. though his frame
was bi —b in and powerful, and his dress had
that in escribable awkward slouch‘that marks
the rough countryman, from the lord of a thou-
sand acres to the day laborer.

“ Clang! clungityoclang !” went the ham-
mers, louder than ever, when he noticed a man
in gray clothes come slow! toward the door,
among the engines and wor men, looking right
and left under his fizzled e ebrows, not un-
kindly, but with the indescri ble air of pre-
occupation and care that marks the master of
such a complex organization as a modern ma.
chine sho ; and the lounger said to himself,
half alou :

“ That's the boss, I reckin. All on ’em works
like fury, till he’s past, and then squints artor
him, like they was afraid he’d turn round ag’in.
Wonder if I dare ax him for work!”

And he felt his heart jumping violently, this
thin, gawky countryman. as the man in gray
clothes approached the door, his keen glance
scanning everything as he came.

The lounger at the door fell back a pace and
looked hungrily at the man in gray, gul ing
down his embarrassment, feeling his ulses at
like trip hammers, and murmuringal the while:

“ I must ax him. I must. It’s my only
chance. ’Tain’t beggin’ to ax work.”

But his own words did not prevent him from
trembling like a leaf; and, when the man in
gray came to the door and cast those sharp eyes
on him, be flushed scarlet and could not say a
word till the other turned away again and stood
with his back to the lounger, looking at the men
inside.

Then the lounger saw the man in gray take
out his watch, hold it open in his handa few
seconds, and make a silent signal.

Who saw the signal, he knew not; but in the
same instant the loud shriek of a steam-whistle
pierced the sultry air outside; and, as if by
magic, the clung of the hammers ceased with a
crash, as the workmen threw them down on the
anvils. The whizzing wheels stopped with a
harsh scraping sound on their leathern bands,
and a low buzz of voices and trample of feet en-
sued, as the men came pouring out of the shop
to their dinner hour, or hunted up their dinner
pails in dark, cool corners of the great sh .

The awkward countryman looked a felt
more awkward than before at the sudden ox—
odus: the more so as he met several mooring
remarks and glances from the workmen who
came out. His color changed rapidly- but all
the time he ke this eyes on the man in gray,
who still sto in the door of the shop; and,
when the stream of men had nearly by,
the countryman timidly came a little closer to
the other, and said:

“ Please, mister—”

The man in gray turned his head and gave
him one look, eyin him from head to foot, as
if appraising h m, hen turned back, without
noticing him, and called out to some one in the

sho :

“pYou there, Barker, I want to see you at the
office to-night.”

Then he favored the lounger with a grim
scowl from under his gray brows, and said:

“ Well, what is it, young man!”

The countryman stammered:

“Please, mister—~I—I’m looking—for work,
and I thought I mou’t——mou’t git a. job—here,
sir.”

The man in gray eyed him again from crown
to me; then shook his head:

“ I'm afraid not. We only want good work-
men here. The men Won‘t et us take appren-
tires.”

The countryman’s fricc fell.

“I—l‘m sorry, sir—but indeed I ain’t no
greeny at this. I know 1 come from the coun-
try. but I l’arnod my trade, shOcin’ bosses and
iixin’ waggins, good as any man in Stooben
panunty. I ain’t Sven nothen’ in this shop, sir,
but what I c’n’d do in a week, of I was put to
it: and ez for forgin’, I’ll back my work ag’in’
anv man you’ve got, sir.”

The superintendent looked surprised.

“ Where have you worked?” he asked.

 

“In the arsenal at Springfield, fur a. bit.
Then at Hartford, fur the Colt’s Comp‘n , and
then, when I’d l’arned my trade good, (Kid he

were a chance fur every man here—so he said
and—that’s all, sir. ”

The superintendent looked dryly at him.

ing, haven’t you—ah—what’s your name?”
:: .IIIOhn Airmsté'ong, sir.”
ump . an you sa ou’re 00d at fo -
ing, John? Used to trithYammersg!” rg
‘Yes, sir.”

John answered in monosyllables now, for the
superintendent’s comment on his talking had
shut him u .

“ Very well, I’ll try what you’re made of at
once. I’ve had men come here before with big
stones of what they could do. Go and—no, not
yet. How did you get to New York?”

“ Walked here, sir.”

“ Indeed? Had you no money?"

“ Not much, sir; I’m only jest outer my time,
and dad‘s bein’ sick tuk all my wages, as it’s
like to, fur some cars.”

And John sighed slightly, then looked up.

“ I wouldn’t mind if it kep’ me ragged, sir, if
there were a chance of his gittin’ well; but
that’s the wust on it. Doctor sez he’ll never git
no better, ’thout we kin send him to Floridy, and
if so be I kin git stiddy work here, mebbe I
mout 't a chance.”

“ at’s the matter with him?” asked the
superintendent, coldly; for he was prone to dis-
be ieve men, from his ex rience.

“ Old wound, sir. Da fit in the war. I was
on’y a little shaver then. All I want now is to
git work here, 30’s I kin show you I ain’t no
slouch.”

“ You’ve got quite a tongue, when it gets go- '

 

reckoned I’d better cum to York, ’cos there 1

 

Then he slouched back to his dinner-pail as
the superintendent nodded to John and went
away, while our hero found himself positively
engaged at last, in the house of his dreams, a
first-clam machine-shop, where they made boil-
ers, engines, locomotives, steam pumps, and all

I the multifarious contrivances that; go toward

 

the making up of our modern civilization.

Poor John! He felt very lonely and hungry
that day. He had eaten no breakfast. for his
pockets were nearly empty, and he had to save
enough for a night 3 lodging. He sat down on
a hea of scrap-iron, and looked wistfully round
the s op. A few men were sitting about in
groups over their dinner-pails; but. most had
gone home. He caught more than One glance
cast '5 way, but none were very friendly.

The workman, as a rule, is jealous of a stran-
ger who dresses differently from himself, and
John Armstrong had “ country ” written all
over his clothing; while there was something in
the shrewd expression of his face, despite his
homely speech, that made them see he might
prove a man to rise above others in the shop.

As for Barker, he was an Englishman, gruff
in speech, narrow in mind, selfish and brutal;
and he did not deem it a matter of necessity to
speak to his new helper beyond a curt:

“ Sit there till I want thee.”

For Barker came from Lancashire, where
they “ thee-thou ” people in their speech.

At last John noticed a young man, some dis-
tance of! in the shop, beckoning; and, when he
went there, he found three smart, intelligent-
looking fellows, evidently a little above the
rest, who greeted him with cordiality. One of
them said:

“ You look tired and hungry, young fellow.
We three always mess together, and live well.

 

       

wwwuillllllllllllllll].

each other, and the one called Stryker said,
carelessly:

“So you’re to sweep out? You can’t do it
alone, can you?”

John looked round cheerfully.

“Guess so. But I’ll hev to ax the boss to let
me sleep in the sho to-night.”

“Why?” asked unson.

“ Because I won’t git through till it’s too late
toZfind a boardin’-place. Lucky it’s hot weather.”

. “You can cor: e and board with us, if you
like,” returned Stryker. “We’ve got a room
with four beds, and they charge us on] four
dollars a week, if we don’t take dinner ome.
It’s only a block.”

John flushed up.

“You’re mighty kind, sir, mighty kind. But
I’m only a plain country boy, and you’re gen-
tlemen. Mebbe we mou’tn’t a co over well.
I ain’t one to shove in where I ain’t wanted.”

Again the young men looked at each other,
and Stryker observed :

“ As you please. We mean the offerin good
faith, and we’ll help you clean up, the first
night, to shorten the work, if you like. Do
you take the offer?”

John could hardly believe it, asking:

“ Do you young gents really mean it?”

“ Of course,” answered Munson, a. little im-
patiently, “or we shouldn’t make it. Do you
acce t?” .

“ nts,” said John, gravely, “ ou’re all
mighty kind to a stranger, mighty ind. I’ll
take your offer ’bout the board, and say
thankee kindly. But as for helpin’ in the
sweepin’, ’twouldn’t be fair. I gets pay fur it,
and I ain’t the man to Shirk the work. I’ll hev
to do that alone.”

As he spoke, the whistle shrieked again, and

 

1/21!»

220/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.  “llll

s
"

“f /

 

 

 

 

The superintendent bent his brows.

“ What will you do?”

“ Anythin’ you sets me at, sir.”

“What wages do you expect?”

“Whatever the work’s worth, sir. , A man
in a strange place is like a cat in a strange gar-
ret. Got to smell ’round, ’fore he knows where
he be.”

The superintendent smiled.

“I want this shop swe 5 out at nights. I’ll
give you fifty cents a. nig t for the job. It will
take you from four to six hours. Do you take
the 0 er?”

John looked round; saw that the work was at
least as laborious as the other had described it,
and answered:

“ I’ll take it, sir. Glad to git it. Kin I get any
day work, too!”

e seemed not at all backward, now he had
once begun, and the man in gray gave a short
laugh, as he answered:

“ It’s dinner-time now. Did you ever try
riveting a boiler?”

“ Yes, sir. Patchin’ ’em. Nothin‘ more.”

“ Ver well.”

Then e turned to the shop.

“ Barker, come here.”

A workman row from his dinner—can, and
came forward; to whom the man in gray said,
quietly:

“ That helper of yours is n. slouch. I see
several loose rivets in that boiler. It won’t
pass the inspector, you know.”

Barker looked sullen.

“ Be that all, sir?”

“ No. I want you to try this oung man this
afternoon. He says he has wor ed at patching
before. See if he can rivet tight. If he can,
send away thMtlier fellow.”

Barker nodded, and then eyed John with a
sort of sullen disfavor that spoke volumes, as he
answered:

“All right, sir. We’ll see what he can do.

 

This way, young greeney.”

 

 

 

We’ve plenty to spare. Dig in with us. Bro-
thers of labor should eat together.”

John needed no second invitation. The tears
rushed to his eyes at the unlooked-for kindness,
as he said:

“Thankee, boys, I will. Tell the truth, I
hain’t eat nothin’ since last night, and walked
fifteen mile today.”

Then he fell on a thick slice of bread and
meat, with a relish that showed he told the
truth, and scanned his new comrades, between
bites, with satisfaction.

They were all young fellows, like himself,
and had a way of speaking unlike men who
toiled with their hands alone. Their fare
seemed to bequite luxurious for mechanics, and
they had a large tin pail full of beer, which one
of them offered him presently, saying:

“ It won’t hurt you. It’s only lager!”

But John shook his head.

“ Thankee kindly, but I never tech it. I seen
lots of fellers begun on that. as ended up in
whisky, and I don’t need it. Guess there’s wa-
ter round, ain’t there?”

“ Lots of it,” returned one of the men.
“Over by the tap you can get all you want,
such as it. is. It’s only ('roton. But. I say,
what's your name? Mine’s Munson, Jack Mun—
son. This is Tom Wheeler, and the other fel-
low‘s Jim Stryker.

“ And my name’s John Armstrong,” re-
turned our hero. “I reckon we’ll be friends,
bovs. What mou’t you work at, may I axf"

Munson laughed.

“ Oh, we’re what they call gentleman hands.
VVe’reluaming the pructicnl part, to become
civil engineers. But what are you to do?”

“ l‘m to rivot all day, and sweep shop at
night,” answered John, rather slowly. “It's
hard work, but honest: and I’ll make two
pays, if I kin stand it. I‘ve got a poor sick
dad in Painted Pod as I want to save all my
money to send to Flu-idy. gents.”

The three young men cast turtive glances at

 

From the bottom to the top of the ladder.

the men began to pour in to work. He went
back to his place by Barker, and never noticed
that Stryker was looking after him with a de-
cided scowl on his handsome face.

CHAPTER II.
THE LADDER BRAKES.

THAT afternoon John Armstrong worked
hard and earned golden opinions, even from the
usually sullen and reticent Barker, whose helper
he was.

The Englishman put him on at once to clinch
rivets, making the other helper, whom the su-
perintendent had stigmatized as a “ slouch,”
bring them from the forge.

For some time Barker scowled over his work
as usual, till his new helper had got to the end
of a line of rivets, when be inspected them
keenly, and a faint grin crossed his harsh fea-
tu

 

res.

Just at that same moment, the man in gray,
who always made his appearance when he was
not expected, came up to the side of the boiler,
glanced over it with his sharp eyes, nodded ap-
proval, and motioned Barker to go on with the
work. Then he vanished amid the workmen,
and they saw him no more till the six o’clock.
whistle blew, and the clang of hammers ceased
like magic.

Then, and not till then, John began to feel a
little wistful and lost, as the workmen washed
up and prepared to go home, while he was (I
stranger to all except the three young men,
whom he could now see nowhere.

As he looked round, old Barker, with a sort
of gruff cough, asked:

“ Got a. sleepin’—place. mate?”

“I think so—tliat is." explained John, “there
are three gentlemen hands, as they called thenr
selves, axed me to come to their boardin’-h0use.
But 1 don’t seem to see ‘em jest now,” he added.

Barker scowled as only a Briton can scowl,
as he growled out:

(Continued on Page Seven.)

“h, ullill'lflllmh.
39

63))?
<5

 

DESERTED.

BY H. H. JOHNSON.

What is that you are sign}? on God! can it be

That Jack has deserted the-children and me?

It can’t be he‘s forsaken his children and wife!

But tili‘enyfrofds that you speak stab my heart like a
e

Run away with that lily-faced girl, did you say?
Let them go! I’ll not grieve. Only hope they will

stay.
I can care for the children, the poor little clears;
A husband like him is not worth any tears.

We once were so happy. I thought it would last:
But those (is s of enjoyment forever are t;
Then my c dren and John were the wholhasworld to

me
But now he has left us. Oh God! can it be?

Can it be that the 'rl I believed to be true

Has robbed me of usband and ha piness, too?
Can it be that the girl that I prize as a friend
Has brought all my hopes to this terrible end?

Oh, curse her, great God, with Thy vengeance

drear !

Curse her life while she lives! Curse her soul when
she’s dead!

Let her feel every fpang of a heart-broken wife!

Let the heaVIest o sorrows imbitter her life!

Let Thy vengeance follow wherever she goes!

Let her days be all anguish, her nights be all woes!

On his-head, too, great God, let Thy vengeance rest!

Let 116m fetlal all the anguish that burns in my
reast

But no! I’ll not curse him. He always was so kind,
And I thought that he loved me. Oh God, was I

lin
Not to see how the fir was acting her ,
’hll her soft siren s ' es had enchanted is heart?

Come hither in children, or Willie and Fred!

You aare gather ess now, t ough your father’s not
ea ;

Comehere to my bosom, my poor little dears,

We Will mingle together our prayers and our tears.

I know he’ll soon tire of her and her smiles;
She can’t charm him ion with her soft siren wiles;
Then he’ll think of his ome and will sigh for its

joys,
And grieve for a sight of his wife and his boys.

Oh, I wish Jack had died while I loved him so well,

Ere that lily-faced girl wove around him her s ill

I couldhweep at his grave, and plant sweet owers
t ere,

And cherish his memory with a widow's fond care.

But now throuzh the da 5 that lengthen to years
I‘ll bear in my bosom a cart full Of tears,

And wonder why God, in His infinite might,
Permitted her hand a true wife to smite!

 

The Counterfeit Sun;
THE ENEMY 11v THE DARK.

BY MRS. MARY REED CROWELL,
AUTHOR or “ HER AWFUL DANGER.” “ WITHOUT
A NAME,” “DID SHE SIN!” "CLOUDED
IN MYSTERY," ETC., ETC.

 

CHAPTER I.
A MONSTROUS SCHEKE.

As fair 8. night as ever rained its moonlight
upon a sleeping world. A gentle wind from
the west waiting the fragrance of dew—damp
flowers in the open windows of the s cious,
beautiful room, where, on the little filcony
just outside, a. young man stood in motionless
attitude, a grave, inscrutable look on his face
that indicated the most intense mental dis-
turbance.

He was young, perhaps twenty-four or five,
of handsome form, slender and manly, with
fair, tawnv hair and mustache, and blue eyes—
eyes that just now had in them something that
would have told an acute observer that this
young fellow had seen much of the dark side of
its in order to develop the look he owned just.
t en.

His name was Kethe Shirley, and he was the
traveling companion and confidential friend of
Stella Dudley, who, 'ust within the room, lay,
wlaite and weary-loo 'ng, upon the low French

Four years before Stelle Dudley, only son of
Dr. Egbert Dudley, of Rose-Terrace, New York
State, and heir to the riches of the fine estate,
had gone abroad on an extended tour, and six
months after arriving in England had become
ac%uainted with Kethe Shirley, between whom
an himself an intimacy rapidly sprung up
which resulted in their joining compan in the
capacity of employer and employee, a though
the relations between them were far more those
of two friends, even brothers.

They were remarkably alike in personal ap-
pearance, and yet in ever individual feature
there was a difference. hile Stelle Dudley’s
fair face was open, frank and sunny, his hand-
some blue eyes fearlex s, his manner aristocratic
in bearing, Kethe Shirley, with less golden
glory in his tawny hair, less vivid blueness in

is eyes, was wanting in the bright, joyous ex-
pression that characterized Stelle Dudley, and

is smile, though it well set off his handsome
mouth, was not like his friend’s frank smile.

In disposition Dudley was noble, spirited,
generous and dauntless, patient as a woman, as
was evinced at this particular moment, when,
lying on his pillows, as he had lain for days,
weary and anxious as he must have been, be
yet greeted Shirley with a smile as that gentle-
man finally stepped in out of the balmy Italian

n1 ht.

%‘ You are feeling better?” Shirley asked, so-
licitously.

“Not especially; sometimes I doubt if I ever
do. If I should die, Kethe, ou will surely go
home to my father‘s and tell him all you know
he would wish to hear?”

“ But you will not die,” and a. curious bitter—
ness cre t into Shirley’s tone. “Why should

out on have everything to incite you to
ive—riches, social position, your father's afl’ec-
tion, the beautiful young heiress waiting your
return to her—everything! It; is only poor
devils like myself who can afford to shuffle
off.”

“Every one of which blessings—except
Maud’s love—I mean to share with you, Kethe
—-if ever I get home again. My fa her never
fails to speak of you in his letters—that you
know, and he will receive you as my friend for
my sake. Maud will be your sister, Rose-Ter-
race your home."

“ And yet, all on sufferance.”

Dudley‘s ale cheeks flushed with reproach.

“ Do not we so cynical, dear old fellow. You
misjudge my father, one of the noblest men
who ever lived. You do Maud an injustice—-
for, although, as you know, I will marry her.
because in father wishes it, and not because I
love her Whth the love a. man feels in the passion
of his life, yet, Kethe, she is as good and gene—
rous as she is beautiful and charming.”

“I am not sure but that I envy you," Shir—
ley answered, as he opened the casement wider,
seeing a flush of fever stealing over the sick
man‘s face. “ \Ve will not talk any more—un—
less you mean to rave all night, as you did last
night. Try to sleep, Dudley, and I will catch a
us on the sofa.”

Iii ten minutes Dudley was sleeping, appar—
ently soundly, although somewhat restlessly,
and in ten minutes more Kellie Shirley was
fast asleep. In an hour a terrible alarin rum.r
through the villa; the sick man in the fever
delirium had risen from his bcd and “ lilliOd out:
of the window, falling on the stone pavement
below, inflicting a frightful wound on his head.

The household, consisting only of the master
and mistress, and one servant. rendered all the
assistance in their pOWei‘ until the village Sill"
geon could be summoned—two hours after-
ward -—!wo hours in which all of Krilm Shir—
ley’s future life was changed and decided.

“He is dead or dying." Mrs. Romaine said.
sobbingly, as Elle wipcd tho oozing blood from
Dudley’s white temple.

“And ithnd better be, than that he should
live an idiot,” her husband added, impressively.
“ It’s an ugly wound he has—Mr.——-Mr.——the

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

  

96

 

Iflfifll

“,1”in "mun,

      

. _ _ , . . . n
's ' ' ‘ ‘ ' b l I And Jud e Ollivan threw ofl his coat and HeaVen ermitted it. No warning came to to
names never come Stral°ht to me. H15 [3— I gigs—girth 1851:3132? tgehg??:01iiothi’sli‘ii?htlalti vest and flanged into the water, sw1mming out Judge Ollivan that the beautiful woman he so

i 1 I' a 1 I' "e S ver wen 6y 01'!) ll ' - W t b  0‘3]..de for  wife was a Shi‘er
A g,e hoir ‘b I). over Still. ‘ I t my back p011 my past I must also turn 111 quick steadystrokes t0 ard  SpO W ere , prou  . M I,
88.8. thoutt’ht CRIIIBItO  SO strange and   upon her!” ’ the lady, had disappeared, Cdtchlng her as She SCbemlng ad ‘ enturessvfind l l a“  cro de
5 I

The qutgy Duel ~

f JOHN KELLY, one of the participfinttfi in the
, , , . - . ' h 11,. amous “cowbo duel,” is a remar a 8 man.
ter that it appalled him. For a second he held ‘ And then a slow change ore 1; over his ir- rose again, and striking out for the bgat. Elle . Chgrc?ia(l>:lll.li’n01fg periggtl‘ (613132188: ttllbeeefilgtle Born in Buffalo g’bout thirty years ago, he came
arlev with his better nature then— resolute face—a hard, determine look, and then fair burden in his arms becoming a eavxer an. g e t J d u, l d West at an early age and became prettv we”
P .. “th not?” he demanded fiercely of him— he turned abruptly back and entered the house, weight every moment, while the lovely, un— , smile on her‘lips, is rs. .u go ivan passe known as “Kid.anl.( ” After leadin” én ad—
self “It would harm no onh—if he dies and I which the surgeon was just leaving, and who bound hair streamed over.the waves as the down the aisle to, Effairlltligg. k h h d vemurous me he marrin a welHO do «Mexican
he will. He would have taken me home ’with ‘ told Shirliey he Iwould coitus again several hours pa%$,h<ill:at$l;ei {SEQ 1130:; Ewelgegvsvta collected Wfipgetihatthgnpnwfietlteog 11:23:32 Zing tze woman, and by her secured a fine mneh forty
-. . 'v _ l W . v .. l  - -- ‘. ' ' ‘-' 2"‘
2:31:19, h’l‘hh $312223 Tigtifeeiil Sniifivglikewni]; ‘ la‘lB’Vlhitice) phgsrsStte‘lle (l‘JIiIildley lay sleeping under on the sands, watching the excmng scene, was a same Slnlstel‘ smile cuil‘led £113 11 .s as 1then as he 23:: c 3:61:31: geladljfiieex 1‘} 1);.  8km);ng
fortune! His friends will be spared a horrible the influence of the heavy opiate administered, tall, black-haired, black-mustacbed man, irre- ‘ followed the c1 earn-ail -ro ed gure caning on and vavide by his skill i-n shootinn mm was gen-
grief. Why not take the chance Fortune offers Kethe Shitrley complebteil. the ariangiemeigts £3§§C§lgbl§ig§ sipnaipenfiil‘ficillrgsisnzilnigeggpearance, : he}; gggdfigisoggilstgé‘xgéme so far. the fair Rosa. era“ avoided by men jesimusséf killing some
a" ‘ “ ' I‘I‘ u 115 ro 80. 6 5- ' . ‘ .‘ , ' .- ,.
mli’ith wild defiant eves he asked the mo- geeshghzlagmsglfCZf gvgrythiugpthiit belonge to “We done—fairly Well (1009. my fall‘_R05a- , IDOIId writes her name henceforth Mrs- J 8'0 glad? agiifiizgg {23291113511 Iflébglevlv‘ieéi: eh:
mentous questions of himself while Romaine Dudley, replacing his own belongings, and— mond! The campaign opens finely :—yvlll the, OlllVa-n- .The,“examofie'equ'rfit'mfiécsumgli’ fofindiis brand on 3000 Lead (ft- (12,111,. worth
stood looking at the unconscious man’s ghastly I startin in guilty terror, as, in the act of fast- result be what we deSire? Who would imagine , delibel‘atl'on. but Vilthfl 033111011 at 11 t0 ' nearly $100 000 Hé deter“ med ‘w R i“ ,, 500
face waitin indifi’erently enough for the in- ' ening udley’s watch—chain in his vest, he saw those slim hands of yours contrived to upset rect W8 Mall sure 5' “ 111- head and éam'erin u 1 500 new In”; he
formation as ed. I the gleaming eyes of Romaine watching him the boat for a fpurpose? Who would guess an CHAPTER III started to drive to Dgnvgr adi‘taiice of ne'irl
A sudden choking sob came into Shirley’s from the balcony without. astute judge o the courts .has fallen _into the, ‘ u - n 1500 miles His outfit 7 it”, f thinv'_‘t“%
       whee? “1  I 93:“irrretrwreird’ Wm.  5° 9a1‘i‘“3£§i%t§l§%ititig‘ihistéfknfdl I Km... assassin. sag... Y... w...    toff‘éiiitai’m   
fruitage only God might tell, from whose re- ing nearer, ut e ru is, Wis speec eremani r. _ . 7” ‘ l. E d in due lime and he took u his pedition} The trip wasa very long and Severe
sults angels would hide their-pitying faces. I with you. We are poor humble folk, you plClOllS as at too beginnin . agcpimp is e tired hostel {mm he felt hinpseu one but by Using great care the 10"qu were
“You haven’t 19-, quite right_ic is Shirley,” know, and there seemsachance for us to add As he thought the thong ts recordedhhe care- I a o e in a re. n t t l h h. It Email The aft Started Ma 23’ {a I d
. " he wfu ito our income—if ou will leave our oor full watched Judge Ollivan, who certainl was ready, in all leapec s, o aunc imse u n - . p y‘ y_ ,8! . na e a
EgniiltieiféiniifiBzyfigdgggggalore: intol  ' idiotic friend with )Igalhille and may Youpare who’lly unsuspicious atthat moment: the eau- I the world as the man Whose identity he Egd glowklmarch acroEsAthe blil'lllggN Iilfllfl'l‘s valid
voice. D rich; pa us well, and we will take all care of tiful, helpless woman in his arms had aroused ‘ usurped. . . Into] Sesstyvastes o rizona any _‘.w -.--i-o,
on way month how be pro- all the chivalry in his nature, and he bore her, Travel-worn, still nervously exc1ted, be real- 11“ 1 8P - 8th found them fill) miles north Ut

 

 

 

 

Romaine looked up, a steady, odd glance in him, an write

his stealthy Italian eyes.

I gresses. It would be a great thing for Pauline

“ Shirley—ah, yes! And yours, then, is the and me.”

other, Du iley?“

It was just the arrangement Shirley desired

"Yes, Dudley. He was my companion, my to make, and he closed with it instantly, men—

frien 1—”

“ I should not have thought it.
he looked the aristocratic

inch.”

A cold perspiration broke out upon Shirley’s

tioning a sum he would pay for Du lley’s ex-

Pardon, but penses and the services of the Romaincs that
gentleman, every ‘ made the man’s eyes shine.

“You are princely—princely, and you will
find me faithful~faithfuL You know, Mr.

forehead; the odd persistency of the man struck Dudley, what I mean? Pardon, but I know

him as b: ing suggestively sinister.

I you do not wish the young companion’s i'eCov—

“I must be cautiouz, wise as a serpent,” he , cry to reason—ah, pardon, again, but it is so
thought. “Already this fellow suspects sonie- plain to me! Your agitation, your liberality,

thing is not quite right.”

I the striking resemblance between you—it is an

“I wish the surgeon would come; he is surely , elder brother. and he will not now stand be-

with tender carefulness above the water until
he reached the beach, where the lady com—
panion, recovered from personal fright and semi—
unconsciousness, awaited in alarm and eager- I
ness to receive her mistress, whom Judge 01- ‘
livan deposited in the hastily-improvised couch l
of shawls and blankets some clear‘headed spec—
tator had arranged, and from which, a few i
minutes later, she was carried to her hotel—the
“ Ocean House”—amid the bewailing laments
of her com anion.

“She is cad, she is dead or dying! I know
it—and I have lost my best friend. 3—”

But Judge Ollivan kindly interrupted her,
calming her nervous fears.

“ She is neither dead nor dying, my dear ma- ,

ized that he was in no condition to present him—
self at Rose-Terrace; besides which there were
other and important duties to be performed by
him before severing the last link binding him
to his present life.
Chief of these duties was to devote a dig! or
ud

I so to the scrupulous examination of Stelle

ley’s diary, his letters from home, all of which
had been carefully reserved by the devoted
son and friend. hcse Shirley read and

I studied, and then set himself up to the task of

imitating Stelle‘s handwriting, carefully and

I patiently attending to his task, until, in a day’s

time, he had succeeded so well that he ventured
upon the boldest move in the game, as yet, and
wrote a letter to Dr. Dudley, beginnin “ My

Trinidad and an equal distance cast of Cu-
charas. The Kelly outfit went into camp for a
day near the camp of George Howard, a large
cattle—grower. The latter had a herd of 3,000
cattle, and commanded twenty-eight c0“ boys.
The two herds became mixed up while trawl-
ing close together, and Howard made a claim
for cattle which Kelly considered unjust, and
refused it. This angered Howard, and words
followed. Kelly claimed Howard had some of
his cattle, and offered to exchinge; but the lat-
ter refused. and the quarrel became very (lan-
gerous. The cowboys on each side gathered
around and began to handle their weapons in a
manner which indicated that they meant busi-
ness.

 

dying!" Mrs. Romaine exclaimed, and then, by ’ tween you and the inheritance! I will be faith- I _ _ ’ . . _

some strange magnetism, Kethe Shirley found ‘ ful—I will keep the secret—I have no scruples dam. It is merely a faint from which she will Dear Father,” in_Stelle s invariable sty e. In Kolly saw the danger. He knew if a fight

his eyes compelled to Romainc’s gaze. —conceive what plans you will, and I will carry recover. little the worse, I think.” I the letter he detailed the terrible accident that ShOUld OCCUI‘ bet“'€9n SUCh dtadly mfil‘kfimen
1

“ You do not wish him to live ?” he said, as- them out—for money. Chilled and soaked himself, Judge Ollivan did had happened to “his poor friend and traveling there WOuld hardly be a man left to téll the
’ tale, and in addition to the loss of human life

sertively, softly, and, startled, terrified, Shirley ' For a moment their eyes met, Romaiue’s full not consider it necessary to accompany them to , companion, Shirley,” the injury resulting in

answered, eagerly:
“I do—I do I”

of sharp, shrewd determination, that seemed to
look Shirley through and through, as he come

“Onl because hired companions are poor prehended the suggestiveness of what the man

their hotel, but immediately called a passing
carriage and returned to his own bowl, the
“W'est End,” where, made dry and comfort—

absolute imbecility. He stated that he had
been obliged to leave him abroad, in conscien-
tious hands, while, as for himself, he had or.

the huge herds of cattle would be scattered
and all hands ruined. Just as the cloud of war
was about to burst be conceived a plan to avoid
bloodshed, and broached it to Howard, who

 

 

 

devils, or whom no one cares much,” Romaine ‘ meant. able, and sitting at his case in his private par- rived in Ne vv York and Would be at home very _
returned. “This Mr. Shirley is an exception, ‘ For a full minute they looked at each other, lor overlooking Ocean avenue, be congratulated shortly. He had meant to surprise them, but agreffd t0 lt- Tlle Plan WES RS f0ll0WS= Each
it seems.” and Shirley knew he could not deceive Paul himself his name and personality were un- concluded to then inform them. W8-S_ t0 SelE‘Ct SIX cowboys, the best .ShOtS in
Very shortly afterward the sur'eon came, a Romaine. known to the rescued party—as hers was tohim. To this carefully—concocted letter he  their Outfits, and, placing them in line fifty
fu~sy, practical little man who glanced from ' “I will buy you, soul and body ” he said, at “It is sincerely to be hoped the affair will be the name—“Stelle Dudley,” then to ded, yards distant 0D horsebfick. t0 give the Word
the unconscious man to Shirley in surprise. last. “You are to do my will, whatever it is treated so trivially that the reporters hovering sealed and stamped it. “ Flrel” and let them settle the dispute. This
“Brothers, eh? They said it was—” ——you understand? I will quadruple the sum I around will not get hold of it—so that I may “Done, and well done ” he thought. “ Now, novel method of settling a difference was
“M traveling com anion,” Shirley inter- , mentioned, and will pay you an installment thereby escape the overwhelming thanks of her that this is disposed of, for the other.” hailed With delight by the men 011 eaCh Side: and
rupte , pointedly. “T e resemblance is a co- new. Write meeverymonth tothe addressI will husband, or father, or brother.” He drew the paper toward him again, but volunteers’were numerous.
incidence, only. Poor fellow!——do all you can , give you—an assumed one, safer for our cor- But—the ubiquitous reporters did not allow the “other” letter was not so easy to write. Kelly selected Six men Who had been With
for him. He has no friends, or I would have ' respondence.” so delightful an item of sensational news to be Pale and agitated, he arose from the table, at him 810118 time, 811d been “‘le and vaed in
them sent for at once.” For some time they talked together, separat- kept from the Herald the Tribune, the THNPS, last, and paced the floor restless] y. many a deSperate situation. Howard selected
“It would do no good,” the doctor said, as he Y ing at last, mutually satisfied, while, in exulta- and Judge Ollivan’s- andsome mouth curled “Poor Alda—I suppose it will be the death six Of his best men. There was no time lost in
at once began to dress and bandage the wound. I tion, Shirley told himself he need have no fears with vexed disgust as he read, impatiently, the of her,” he muttered. “ Poor little thingl—but preparing for the duel, which was to be the
“True! How soon must ho—diei” Shirley for the future. warmly fulsome article next morning in his there is no retreat new—no retreat, even if I greatest affair of the kind ever known. The
asked. “I have guarded against every possibility of Tribune at his nine o’clock breakfast. knew it would kill her. Nor would I turn back men of the opposing sides retired to their camp
f‘Diel Who said he would die? Ididn't. He danger,” he thought, “and now I will leave a Before the meal was finished another article if I could!” and coollv made pieparations for the feast of
Will not £116.”. _ I generous amount for the surgeon a gift for was laid before him toread—tnis time a letter Yet on and on he walked, restless, uneasy, death. They groomed their horses, oiled and
A terrible liv1d grayness crept over Shirley’s Mrs. Romaine, and be away from the accursed brought b the waiter, addressed in an ex- goaded by a conscience not yet utterly cleaned their revolvers, and, putting their and-
face. _ lace.” quisitely elicate hand to Jud 0 Warren 01- quenched. (“98 011 With Care. 1‘0d6 out 00 the fl ht.
“Not die!” be repeated, amazedlyhand while I And three days afterward Kethe Shirley was hvan, an elaborate monogram “ C.” stamped “It must be done,” he finally said. “No - “Kid Frank’s” men were armed with l in-
the surgeon went on With his work in silence, speeding across the ocean, on his way to upon the creamy. square envelope—the missive sill sentimentality shall come in between me 0110st revolvers, 38 and 44 caliber, long-bar-
ruthlessly cuttingaway thegloriousgolden hair, I America, in the character of Stelle Dudley, bearing unmistakable tokens of being from a an! in brilliant prospects—no, not even a reled, tnd Howard’s Six used Colt’s improved.
Shirley sunk down in a near chair, his facehid-  the heir of Rose Terrace! lady, reatly to Judge Ollivan’s surprise, as his human ife shall be a barrier!” The Opposing duelists were drawn up in line
den in his hands, an awful conflict raging Within —— only air correspondent was his daughter His lips s .vagely compressed, his brow gath- facing each other at three o‘clock in the after-
him I CHAPTER II. abroad at school. ‘ cred nto a stern, unyielding frown, be seated noon. The sight was one which few men have ,
i w E L L B E G U N.
l

._1...........,-....-..._-......... M-..\.-...A . ., ....... .,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“_He has a splendid Vitality, a superb cousti- The servant having retired, Judge Ollivan himself determinedly and wrote, beginning as looked upon. Fifty yards apart stood like
tution, although somewhat impaired by his at- _ A BRILLIANT July day was drawing toward opened the dainty letter and read a charming follows: statues two lines of men, horse and rider al-
tack of fever—but not enough that he Will not its close. In the city the heat had been in- note from the lady be ad rescued from the u NEW YORK August 25th 18_ most one, every duelist grasping a huge, glit-
I tense, the air seeming to hang stagnant and sea, in which she thanked him in touching, ar- “Mas. Anna snmrsr:— ' ’ ' tering revolnr in each hand, with the reins in

pull through. Yes, he’ll live, fast enough.”
“Ihave the greatest distress in being obliged to his teeth or ban ing loosely, for these dare«

The words of the surgeon to Mrs. Romaine, stifling overthe sun-baked buildings and streets, dent words, blessin his grand bravery that
as_ the two stood over Stelle Dudley’s uncon- ! but at Long Branch a stiff south. breeze had had given_her life ack to her keeping once glfm'm (£1 0 the, sad IIP‘YS 01' the death 01’ {our devil riders of t 0 South guide their horses ,
$01011?) lform, r6%ch%d18hfirlegs earls], and by the, beep blowin all day, and a delicmus, salty again—a life sweet to her, lonely though it “Shall ' emes‘m'ley'Wh‘Choccurre_1abseag Will! the“ knees. as the scarcely more savage 
hcitirbee pang _ e e. t, eh new t at, short as, coo ness in t 6 atmosphere made eXistence a was. She deplored thesadfact that she could And then went on a sympathetic detail of Indian does. Around about. carelessly in the

8. en the time Since e had conceived his , Joy and ecstasy to the avored sons and dangli- call upon no one In the wide world to perform the sad .occurrence. an expressmn of the deep, range of stray bullets were the friends of both
é-korlilstrlo)usdlpro_]_etcthofi 111751;“)ng aha} place of. ters of Forltiine who were idling away their I the kindly office of thanking him on her behalf, true friendshi that had always exrsted be- parties, mounted on their horses, watchin the
t1 etc; u do)? 1 t fa I a en suc eep root, summer; do ce far mente by the sad sea for she was utterly alone-havjng neither fa— tween him an the lamented dead, the Sincere ht and to see that no advantage shou d be

is. .bcl) ren 1 on o 1113 soul was next to im— wayes. ther brother nor husband torcjoice m the life sorrow that he himself suffered at his own loss, t en. At either side was the chief, who had
pass: Dime was to recover and hi OW 1d wcshief amcaig thoset fagored sons-011] Fortune he ad saved—all three being dead. She and his inexpressible sorrow for the joung sent these men out todie. Theman who wasto
dream brilliant as brief ’ was osver nail; :3 ‘ frgm athgena emtggons agnutlge Sgemghv vavgtzllipt  pmylld tmdbe 1:13.31??? to 1lilanakll hm] per- wiglovdeli' Wit? h’ d l  EN? “1'6 word thh was desnned to create a
thougfit of joy or Tmtitudé for th N , f I th 1 d. g yf  _ a , , in ,sona y, an as a ewou c  her 0 e icatey lute thata though he di not whirlwmd of death started forward. At the

, g e escape rom , e an in o a sur boat, in which a party 0 at her hotel at an hour specified, an Signed suppose her tobe in dependent Circumstances, first move there was a shiver along both 111193,

F thrilled him—how he was to ex lain his us He W t u h d t t 1 t at helnsgelf gratefully his Rosamond Clive.” ' he would nevertheless assume the liberty of in- biit it was not of fear. _Each man straightened
tion of Dudley’s name how accpmnt for tburpa: ear‘ Oils gm] Eur same, 8 z 9 y, 113 fyieltl ty e lilud e If‘eiud. the charming, pathetic little closin the salary due her husband to her. himself, grasped his pistols the firmer and
planations he had We," were his thou ht: a: yiantsbeai‘d keenag,ici:li:ny iliir alnl u ufxrfi gm; gugmtl [idly, ]and his generous heart was An tothis precious epistle he also Signed the singled out his 0 ponent. The umpire lifted
with head still bgwed,“ sat there—glow his, ‘ of radiance,and a, rngalevsmi itr‘igth itie eyes Std tug e w .d ridf y sympath .at the thought name henccforth to be his—Stelle Dudley, and his hand, and so denly on the still air came
better nature triumpmdgfor a moment m be , the mam sweating:Kg of higaim n a extprestrl (3h er—lg. Wi (pry, datherless, c ildlese, alone in who d1dso,hedrewalong breath of satisfaction. the cry of doom, “Fire!” At the word twelve
tried and failed to be glad for Stella Dfidie ‘3 ever feaygure of fliqface indggipegalminfiw i e ,f e 1ylvlor , an t et lecidhled to make her happier, It is done, and poor Dudley himselfficould horses bounded forward, and twelve pistol-
recoger . i 3‘ fiqeui’ent intellect and stren tire I 0 1 lfyijre- Ol‘At 131111011191} 8&9!!!” . b SOiBStO her. . not have bettered it. How royally rich 1t shots rang out. Three of Howard’s men threw

Then {MS Romainé‘s voice came to him aéter , g u ness 0 c ar- Mr Eappomte our, 6 resented himself makes one feel to toss a couple of hundred dol- up their hands and fell from their horses, while

“ But he'doesn’t seem to 'come to doctor' He'was J udge Warren Ollivan a widower llyt soul;upIlilgficardpflvate parlor, flying promo“- iiiSeSWiiitelgo sglfilileifhliiesl‘yhggggdAlgibiiofiwill): hnlcyi'onetgfixeuy,s Idle") denth Ken ’8 mail). act

. ‘ _ I . y ’; , _ ', .. I . ‘ e - so in ercomra es ea ,sped straig tto-
Writes;hostesses?strain. I at...escrow;dzs'sahztfllcrezz°m: .hlfsiiz'assn'sdds streets: festive“,  ‘5 Wed °" “M’s  “3 trait  we ml" 2:. “we The ’3'”
know i _ _ - . , 1 , ' - - . r ro eir p 013 n eir ridle hands
me433;?posturing?are.flint: seamstress to... 1...... m .1 Muslim“ 8‘ M“: slurs“ in” CM   stamped and directed theietter .to an.“ pulled their home up. wine their me am.
will never recsverlhis reason. This, injury advantages his mgterial ossessionsan hi 11:0- 31 1'1 (In—a hvo‘matll grim he .‘a’ 281° and 1 m. dale S'mrley’ at- a remOte hme VII- ml“ mine riding Syn“ on’ “wring a hail or
must destroy his mental poise—perhaps make I cial positiofi Judy eomvgn was oneof th gli ti o ess romugr tie i mpyd aiirto er light lags, and,‘ as if by magic, these two fateful bullets in from a pisto in ever hand. The
him idiotic—who knows? Certainly his brain " at Long Brahch lEven amen scores of righ (if: hesis'u: es—a’. v$0111 In ve $1 a} 5; g1(all)? to deal“ Wl'ltlietd’ his late annous remorse sua- Howard men saw the Odds. T Cy were too
is affected for life. He. is coming to DOW‘ you nowned handsome men antgl he found hinriself conceived an instatiiiaighuzd‘inll'k u 88 van e‘I‘] valms eth ' great, and, turning SWimy' they ran’ turning
see that staring smile on his face? It is the Persecuted asvigorously’by ambitious mammas Her self-introd ti b3 l lei Sh' lo (loses e grave upon tile h’fe 9f Kethe m their “(idles as they flew, ‘and bmve’y re-
vagran smile of afn idiot—as he will be, for life.” and papas anxioustoget theirdaughters ofltheir a door leading tgcuimiiihfi‘ 19:08:37 gghhdbegiid ketrhgyélii§£;g§itmeéiiii‘egcgli§lgll3iiixcil§e§hi£ (tiliilelilslirisflfgugthet ahd three billet! midmtds the i

it a cry 0 actual_ horror he could not hands, as he had been in home society, while Mrs. Clive entered—a vision of radiant ldveli— deed!” I - n won’ an our ea men E
have repressed ‘50 Save hls hf“, Shlrlt‘y Sprung fascmatingivndows showered all their Sweet- ness in amorning robe of unrelieved white, her All that night, after mailing his letters, he :33; Eggngi: g‘fg'lzlng. ygaafiikd logillusgtttlefigtvh 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

death of the friend who had been such a friend two ladies ad gone out for a row.

2.4K

hg’xfi- « .

 

 

to his feet, as he heard the dreadful announce- ness upon in and oun girls followed suit in ' ' ' '
.. golden hair piled hi h on her little head her devoted to another keen stud of the 1 tr h ”

merit. attempts, more or ess arefaced to enslave |lovel darke f ’ ' ' ' y e ers eac Other.

‘ I _ O . ~ _ . . yes flll ug with tears as she came and diar in his ossession and he th “ ” ‘

éféleiizfitlh’é"£3ll§ett2£i':é‘;§3’té‘£ti’ . :2: ::%§:°r:i:::‘r§1°.rd°wii“sh.” Pr lz-Wi“ terms? 15r- Armder’s present.-  h. 3:...  y to stars to dismiss: we is midti‘zzzitsh W“ 8“”? “

~. . . ‘ f _ V 1 aon e u son IS ion— is is s. ive ud eOllivan.” felt master of the situation convinc d th t h “ ' ” ‘ V '

focate him as they fell, like the tolling of a ' suit of rooms at Ldng Branch and New rt, his In a r t t 'h' g ' h d ' ’ e a e ‘ very well, sud Ken ' and orders were '
funeral be“ on the quiet early momin am “ht—an thin t m k . .po , g ave, swee , ouc ingway, Mrs. Clive a pcquired enough knowledge of the place given to exchange the catt e. '%

“ Death were better for your friend,gbut it is I {vife a veritablegsfail'y mill: me Of his Chosen grasped Judge (“mum’s hand m how her own, and "s Inmates to feel named he coum 5118mm 0

 

, . I . _ her voice quivering as she thanked him for 11' his im osture with s all f '
gig—up huénan skill Ifirm 1liesmre a mind once ~ But J u ige Ollivan went on his way in quiet, gallant conduct the day before. She did n3: “I lielieve I couldldleceiveglAe'fggitliiPriigellf ” he
8 ea}; th pity tyoul3 .r. udley,hbut I must , seeming totally unaware of the ho es and fears overdo the matter, and although the judge was thought, self-com lacently. “1 shall have hnly
bgcile ” e ru — e is now a opeless im- (ligaeixgitfzdhzi‘ii ggegizfiytggmimfiet rileasts. (Ilia ngturally embarrassed, he was not suspicious a plain simple-m nded country doctor and an
- _ w r . . . . . . .
.Wlth an exclamation of inarticulate emo— his beautiful young dau htgr, t1): viz], alil'eplel- geelitrlilga. genumeness Of her demonsm‘atlons Cf gggldltlttlic:medh:sogethyt e lrtgldsetaeIHWIDh’dzlel- wuhlngmn w“ named tomve u n “s med: 3
:Loonfil Sigggegmvggiléedn unstzaldigy flougt off  tiuon ogn her mciflgar gift: aracter ailild eature, He remained an hour with the ladies, findin in five ears or more My till: is e23 uyegyl :gtszmgegato cgggilitf e313: golfinai ‘33 i
. m , sacr w 1g 0 e in swee ossan ri 658 all his 0 swore Mrs. Cliv t h ' ' ' erval . ’ ' ' ' ' 1‘
ggxppiérlimiza‘ygéngg 8&3: ltixush grad peace and {loneg bolptgdhl while nothing was furt' liher from when he virgin?awaynhlgfizggiefiiiigitfithrifii atalllie $21-52! flioughufvtggeriio acgtihlevgholbeed‘es $11351? berg"; oi'ybigetlfiiiitut atlgttlvyvrhaliio‘i: 
_ _ _ eme _ ous variance is oug anasecond mam-la memor of herf ' h ' ' ” i . bone ' e IV
wttl'i‘lfiléedpgsissiggsattp viriiigiiisgovgit-hgpsliias breIast. teAngegegtaiitly, as 1litéhstood {wiggling the at- gracefuyl manneriif‘ii’nderdlelgid’eldllififili1 $303153: “(Stiggrilrfigurs of the day were occupied in If]? csgiigrhgiishfingi: head, Wiwhlilg out i
. 9.. am _ mp eac in o 6 sur - he had th ' I hase.—- " ' ‘ a w“ y
powerless to avert it!" he muttered, Wiping the idea that his day gt Fate was comet’and thatliii agrestinrgmsgogizutitfuliavdogegli’ fillsdldtmtomggg $1531.!ng gig-:1 th (1 flag], etlegant 8p- un‘b‘h to'exmmte himself: As he grew larger
great drops of cold perspiration of! his _fore- that rude boat before him was the influence for many alon day. and lovesto ' on b a dull es Beekweax “the mpg hghbened abm“ his geek, and 'he won
12:21:. Itfi'llltsaz: 13:18 friends the anguish of that was to exert itself upon all his future life; That first cal was the beginning of many slippgrs. Underwear 8:65:11 inn?tHShot:sflang It untll death as a badge Of h“ enterpnse‘
muchmgFr °  — 08mt ipare them that but so. it was, and there was destined to occur Every day saw Judge Ollivan at Mrs. Clive’s tints finest linen every ima’ 'nabl: (ia'l t es A NOVEL way or “toiling 8' swarm 0‘ be“
the he.” ()an h is mofmfimd1 enceforth I am an acoldent that should shape not only Judge rooms at the Ocean House' his magnificent purténanCe he bod ht withagalnse of 101 6 'ap- was unintenuonauy tried at Decatur’ Mien
E hart Dudle em case 0 u ey, the son of Dr. Ollivan 8 life thereafter, but others’ besides. turn—out was at her disposal; ,choice flo wers ex- atification that rought forcibl to uhxilrld‘ltohls gar-r3, Shannen ran to them With a green bong.
m. p... .2... mm... m... ..  brig... .5331?“atazrirsuisrs serfs?” mass“ “2::  gracgd   parlor. Sambmues’o:   he haa’usur a ° 3“ rim;  bs Wr‘rr‘e‘a ‘1'"
, _ t - .ieuya an acre eseason adcometoitscl Rem be' thtS ll " - - e g on guys ‘1’”) nn
ening morning sky. Kethe Shirley walked up servant nsome ddgree~possibl a hired d l ' ose 'em “m8 a te and once sald What twmklm th h l h .
and down, up and down, ex Homing even panic“ The interior in looks ayét. d com- rurlnor ec ared that the judge had succumbed apassmn his father had for rare old medical h d e '10 e swarm gut end about hm
than, u the. die cast,” a last 8 I uggfing ,d'egire L Der sat.upright and rim on , 1r? 2: man- at ast to the fair widow With the goldenhair. Works, he scoured the city for several volumes fa Ian wmp etc] covered him over' so
to leave the path of sin iéto which he was ‘ while the other half gelined acne o 6 seats, The reports, not yettrue, set Jud Ollivan to for a present for Dr. Dudley. He bou ht a su? c ose y were they kn t together that Shannen
. . . - . gainst the Slde of thinkin ,and the r ult g could scarce] breathe' box w red
23:25:35, Sehfishéhuiéicfi-upflous, audacious, he I the boat, eVidently BDJOVIDE the inadequate absolutgly necessareysto £31323th eat-333?; iglgiifniiagug Ewen, 0t Remap 801d mid and Shommrgsbha 8°: d was was Wkegsinlgofiuand
crime assirzme a Zwofirg‘io’ifii iliidnligggig efighgsvgigh: filiiiiciimbiam tiful h itself—Mrs. Clive had become. Questioning his blazin little dian‘iomi: ggnggagdiamgfiiilg gradually “I” w°rk°d 0" and “My bind-
. l o a , o l -  . . . I . , ‘ -
2:11:23 himself even after his resolution wasl gaeatmtdirk eygas, liguid and  215d 233$,tliiasmphhdvg’rlol58ralllyj figdtslihevfg :3 53:12: ghizgr002efrand flower were in pearls on the re— onfid‘filylfinzltcii‘tligdrdvgmg finfirggglgeioz‘:
. s 3.1 eav ow ; ‘ . - ' ' ' - AL \ 3 ' ' - ' _ '
“Carma.  I was we to m... semi. reassessment- use:me We, ‘° we QM  1m“- ..‘ lectures myself Into the favor or animus 1."  “he” “'6 WP“ em m,
git); "1:35 with my i’Wn bafids! he thOughti l less as the ,tal of a calla lily; hair of vivid “I am lonely and desolate ” he told him If aliases“. mil), mild Phls’ With What Stella had ‘ust  till“ ’ 1:: tgx' dHle 88‘le I have
real] abe d 9 uneasy augéli whereas 1 shill I gold,'w1th s immerings of red through it when as he looked the question in the face “ N aste r, the litt‘lepmltd as?) " ls surely enough even -for aver? sevea ogs '1’ “Ed, o-olgng at 12mm
omga most c aritable act. Who the full glow fell on its ripplin masses. Her ally, in a short time, my daughter will mail}; about thegtimslin;lhidei)liaeilst¥eac%:g flow, “St Wortghis all; e’xpé‘fglfillflgdogfihlmfiglagayg
. . _ ! ose- er- . ‘ -
his father who adores him, to th_6 be.autil'ul as perfect asasculptor’s dream. ’ her figure biliilifgiigd nil? laggiggngld agebvl,111 never be race, I W‘u'set outgireet for the scene of my up‘l and Wlth‘a crestfauen appearance, put its
young and “1110 expects to be his Wife? It I And, although this ex uiSitely lovely woman shall find 8 mpathy lovecgiid til-lug it' '1 ex‘DeCted tnumphs' . m between Its legs and left th'e room It was
rather we hgguejgdgngfiigzlsrglpéegglggy Ivzoulfi : wias seemingly thoroug 1y enjdying the vain her. I shallynot wroii my daughte: iiil 3128;: (T0 be continued.) 22:3: ifiifiozftfirizafitiifigoazvas it ever;  of ‘
I W p “D 5 through the spray In thelr  to  again, for She   be my heiress' I N— in evéry  re e a e me

l

he a mercy to spare them.” I et t rou h the r 11' f ' ‘ perm

His features worked in e t] . g g 0 ing sur ,she was in reality, 1 not only not imperil her rospec but ‘ ' ' '
as he struggled to silence rhiss ifuggpéliggiggnfi: aoiifi‘gzd :eietig, :01;-I isomle time, regarding J udge give her a charming, beautiful gother,t;’oung £33333: fig: 212;??Jal’iglet3n White to the dégklcpfdélliéia a ntgmbelr of s we wanted a
special ar menus. ' speculativeness thaltguhaardghedlgiggliisageghs egough fichwm her confidence’ old enough to short-lived and savs- “Itnilsmili‘gtginiggetgh: swampy mgggaoglihe misotf‘: gigglo tile

is - . . . . l a C mmln I ' ’ I I . ' 1M _

Poor telle Will be just as comfortable in or seeing, comprehended, the tragedy of his cha roue.”er rapeCt—a compamon as well as $111123??? ’ Hgtiizeflgaliflhgiiifnsisl'favgomble to gllotlgllilimhdit F fly, but weeds €rfez ’
, Ive an ex- 0 e 8. our WTOWS se I:

one laceas in another. If I leave him here lif’e wool 11 - ' ' '
m £13 beautiful, sunny land, amply provid saw nor kn?st gill? liiglppened,but be neither T us judiCiously decided, Jud Ollivan pro treme old age. The centenarians are numer— On one of these wee , one above the other, and

f - . . . . 3' Watching the boat posed mama eto Mrs. 01‘ ‘ ' . . ,
V3,: legfgéegmfieggftifiegjv £06312 lli‘vvi‘; $112031“, 2332;231:1111" tgshglccgiggnts 3.118 thoughts hfar of love and fission with ddeaiddi‘nfihgtsvshgilld icigisirlyB:ltl thiiielixlggn This; ill‘wd 19%,,“ doors KEQXKEI’ 3°? lghove‘" half  tzefwatfir.
11.1 i , — _ o 6 ocean w ose have been he lor f - ° ave we on Sim' e 1" er u an n i urt er
gag, ‘12:: glefiegibileoggg s10 gilgsggy a?) to gave graves broke 8.17.1118 feet, he was only aroused Rosamond Clivegto [£36 :vgfégelérzfinmszn $133 pie, fogd,h have been on horseback a great deal. down. hen a sixth settfed near the end, and
been his confidential friend so lon ’ who k aVe y a sudden shriek Simultaneous With the up- a soul as Judge Ollivan‘s. g n ee t e native cahforman Fever walks if he the Whom Stalk came down level With the sur-
all his affairs can pass mYSelf gill u o nnDoi-v setting?! the_boat, 813d then he saw the occu- Fired by all a lover’s impetuosity Judge 01- géfmd get 3' musmng to carry hlm' He lives 0‘” face’ and they drank their fin without the dim-
Dudley as the ’son he has not seen in flvgoyears‘ palgoi': hgggddlglfgzlsdzetiiififiurf' f ' Th livan begged his betmthed’ upon her,8hy’ bluSh' ease ogfiigggzglg’lff gidaigplex‘h or he”? disf $121.? 'Of i1 it‘ll, mg td). wade through the muddy i
and“ n whom even th t h _ l I 9 con usmn. e ing acceptation of his offer to c ’ - - e‘ e maJonty 0 gm 0 e pon ;
eXXSOptgd to work changgs.”s ort time would be :2: gfighiihearggi- thelspot fire all ladies, who ‘ early day for their marrieige, tgnffiiihlio slag irrigisrfevh'ig 1:] [:lngaltle d9 nOt seem to read] 8} 'A HORSE at Faribault’ Minn" turned 1 in
h Cgain he wiped the cold dampness off his fore- seized the ladgy’s comgfagion and wiggizlliiggiifig figfgzsgggegg’ lgadghint tfilrn, askied of mar lover They have lgiad chegkgigrdeiliiegrforg- 902.3633; hlslnifister’sldocg'gfld, sana bifisket hanging on
ea _ V . . 9 es _ a ewou: ermit h I , - s aco espoea ut seven eet romthe d.
bu I Wt“, leap from poverty to wealth from I gigglith dtrlgiv $113; Zigthshlgeiltgg 1:3); “ogtsfgii: keepflgrs. Alexander with her‘asp her comgat: hig-exgiizgggtd‘i’sw1303,??? [31211137 Wilde. ,EPhcogtained alpet cat belonging to thgrgilaze,
o scuri to osition f m ’ " , ' ' - . . . I ‘0“ S '1 - ' ‘ - ' 1’ 9 one “’3 ked 0“? ‘3 th ~ '
the heirlgf Ogle of a“; g gandzsgeggglrestt; “2:31;ng {gate arms an cried in pitiful anguish for J Sm )gileiring his dislike for Mrs. Alexander :Slttli):hd$lceciii 10:29: 111:2): $313132 (ling: vny to "5?“ nose up to investigate, indothee cgitglgft’  ills];
tates in America. I told stem, there was no ’ Tl; '1 . _ uage Wan, thug appealed to consented that; Th , or unes rapi . y. wand save the intrudin nose a live] scratch.
, e pen of the moment was ,mmment. the woman should become an, inmate of his “We gfxcgeptliggls tilrgsthbtgsgnwhleggerg'rpegt e ualilrlm- l Elias horse turned around, Ooked backyover his
p . . a ers shoulder as though to take aim and measure the

reason why I could not return with him to‘ Jud e Olliv 1
America, my native land. I said there were n l g an 'g anced about hasmly; them home. V .
ties to keep me here, but—if Aida should dog I :vaiildmbeenthldrl;iggfdggilrleidtbibscgn‘?’t t{hey And s0, just at the close of a brilliant season Eggetgiilih‘ii-Ztg giiiiatt thngevny. They n'oc only gismnce’ kiCked’ andnccat' baSket’ amend an lsbed0t
me, or unmask me in a fit of jealousy! Poor , head had vanished under thl; spirkligng $213:er Egghlirgiiiable [It] 1likcgdinf New York City—l; great BXCiteménts Thzysgrgzenfige sigbgfigtozg . Etc the a" Pie. 8hr ken gThe ho watch
. - , uc - a -0 marriage, and— most favorable to ion ' ” I esuccesso 188 ct then 510' w i y
gewty. of delight, and walked awa
y to feed. -

Aux-11' Wit and Wisdom.
A an upon the premises of J. Erthoifer of 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
 
 
  
  

 

 

 
 
 
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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« sweeping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PAUL FURGASGN.

IY sums CLARE.

“ I want agood title,” Paul Eurgaron said;

“ Five thousand in bonds is not ea: ily made,

But a'clime that‘s unchanging—3’ " My husband!

' my dear! I '

Awake!’ cried his wife, “ on are d .«I fear;

Or rhaps I've discove the secret in time

To Espel the idea of changing your clime.

'Twas here that you Dwight me, a bride Of six-
teen—-

’Tis here that our trials and triumphs have been——

Our children have blessed in beauty and bloom,

Made sacred the spot of their dear childhood home!

My husband, awake! Nay, answer me, Paul;

Make a clean breast of your secrets; I want to know

1’

 

 

Thus pleaded Dame Furgason, her voice full of

tears,

As memo 3 Over the past fleetn'if' ears; 1
But the (1%, full loth from his n to wake,
' than usual a mostva shake—-

A brief-explanation, some censure :——“ Ah mel
‘Twas a blemcd investmea dear Polly. ’ said he.
“ You see, I crossedto other shore,
Where sorrows are emicd, all Death is no more;
The sweet fields of Eden were bloom and fair;
The tree for the Mug of nations was there,
And the  of Life, thaltepiure c 'stal rigid
In the (1 gold. when eem ones e;
re tIbeternal-dio sun need to shine,

r care.
DO wondulyielded? Thosebonds I’ve laidb
I mgr-liked tow for a mansion on high, y
AndIsaid, ‘ owbe sureagood titleisgiven,

For I don’t want a flaw to my claims up in heaven.’
0h, Pollflgeand tears streamed over the face
Where and where sorrows left many a trace,
“ How quickly I‘d give all m wealth laid away,
For a mandon in heaven—a me there to-day;
But I‘ve labored in vain, and great is my loss;
My birthright I‘ve bartered for perishing dross.”

 

 

Continued from Page Five.

 

“Gamma ’ands! There bean’t no gemmen
in this lood country Doan’t ’ee know’t,
mate? ell, ave the way. I were goan to
ax thee to coom to ma place, and ma old woman
’ud tak’ thee reasonable; but if thee wants to go
wi’ gemmen, in God’s name. Mebbe thou’lt
wish thee bac wi’ Steve Barker.”

Without another word he slouched away to
the washing— h, leaving John too much sur-
prised to know w at to say. The Englishman
seemed to be offended, and Armstrong could
not see his friends. Where th had gone, he
knewnot: and while he was loo ' roundcon-
fusodly, he saw the tall form of be superin-
tendent coming toward him and beckonin
him. J’oim Will went to hi , and the ol
chief took him to 9 Office, a l ttle box Of a
place at one side of the huge shed, where he
shut the door Ova-him motioned him-to sit down,
and than said abrupt y: .

“You’re a better workman than I thought,
Armstrong. You attend to your business, and
do one thin at a time.‘ Now then, about this
he ni ht watchman has done it
hitherto; but be Is us yesterday, and the new
man won’t undertake the sweeping alone, as he
doesn’t understand the diflerence between scraps
and rubbish. Now, I shall have to hold you re—
Sponsible for this.» Last year welost several
hundred dollars of scrap-iron in the sweepin
and have reason to suspect that there was col u-
sion between the sweeper and some outside
party. Consequently, you and. the watchman
will be alone here, all night. If you like to
sleep in the building I’ll let you have the sofa,
here in the Office. It will save you money in
board. But—”

Here the old man raised his finger with an
air of dee meaning.

“ But- am trusting a

stranger on the
strength of his honest face.

If you fail me, it

will be bad for you. If you prove a man,
fiou shallrise. I promise you that. came to

ew York forty years ago, than you.
and now in head of this in. That’s all.
Now have you found a boarding-place?”

“ fdon’t exactly know, air.”

And John told im the history of the Offer of

the “ Gentlemen hands.”
“ What were their names?” asked the other,
bending his brows.
“ Munson, color and Stryker,” said John,
pirOrmptly. “ ’you know where they live,
r

The superintendent asked the counter ques-
tion of him:

“ Do you know who I aml”

“ The boss, sir, I s’pose.”

“ Yes, but—my name, I mean?”

“ NO, sir.”
“ I tho ht not. Well, I am the head Of the
firm of tryker Brothers, and that young

James Stryker is my nephew, who would be
livin in my house to day, if he could behave

in a scent manner. What did he Offer to do?
Tell me all.”
John began to feel alarmed.

“ Nothin’ but kindness, sir, nothin’ in the
world. Oflered to take me to board at four
dollar’s, and turn to and help me sweep up the
shop. ’

“ And what did you say!"

“ Told ’em I were much ’bliged, and I’d_ board
with ’em; but 'couldn’t take help fur dom’ the
work I’m paid to do alone, sir. That’s all.”

Old Mr. S ker nodded. '
“ Very . Now you’ll want to go to our
an r ake the you man’so er He ives
Wit the other two, at o. 81 Ashle street—
the block. next to the north of this. ter sup-
r come here. The night watchman is called
be pard. He will 0 n to you. Then, as I
sai , you can sleep are after wOrk or go
home, as you lease. Good-night. All, stop.
You’ll get two Ollars and a uarter a day as
riveter, and fifty cents a nigh for the sweep-

ing. We pay twice a month. Next pay-day
is Saturday. so you need not run into debt.
That’s all. GOOd-night.”

And John Armstrong followed his-new em-
ployer out of the shop, calculating his weekly
wages in his head :11 the way, and feeling
quite cheerful over the prospect ahead of him.

Out in the street he found very few m
near the shop, and old Mr. Stryker p
him to the next corner, where he pointed down
the street, to a house where some peOple were
sittin on the front stc , and said:

“ T at’s the place. cod-night, Armstrong.”

“ Goodnight, sir.” .

And they separated. John gomg toward the
boardin house, saying to himself:

“It’s onday now. That's half a da. . I’ll
hev five days and a half at two twen 
That’s eleven and a quarter—twelve, thirt -
seven. Then the sweepin’—six nights at fif
cents. That‘s three more. Fifteen dollam,
three shillin’. Take out four fur board. That’s
kinder bi b. Oughter throw in washin’, I
reckin. 'lgbat’s ’leven dollar, three shillln’. I
kin s' nd dad ten. Ob glory, ain’t I happyl"

And just then he came to the foot of the
steps where the three “ gentlemen hands ” were
sittin , and looked up, to find them all staring
over his head at the Opposite side Of the street,
not one of them saying so much as “Good-ewe.

nin .”
I—fiiwever. John was nowise bashful, so he

stop .d and said:

‘ good-evenin’, gents. I’ve come if l«you
haiii’t no objections, to see ’bout that boa as
you spoke on.” ' .

Jim Strykcr looked down at him with an air
of affected su rise.

“ Why. it's rmstrong. Let me see—Oh, yes
——-I’(l forgotten. Yes-Mrs. Shafer is inside.
Guess she‘s got a room. You can ask her.
She’s getting sup er ready now, I think.”

Then he turns his head aWay, and the three
looked across the street again, as if John Arm-
strong were a fly on the wall, not worth no—
ticing.

.Ou‘r hero felt as if some one had treated him
to a shower—bath of ice-water. The change
from cordiality to coldness had come so sud-
denly that he could not com rehend it. He
turned red, then pale, and ha almost turned

 

away, in his disappointment, when a thin wo-
man, With yellow face and gray hair, came
through the passage to the open door, and said,
In a tired way:

“Supper’s ready, gentlemen. Come in.”

The three “ gentlemen hands” got up and
strolled in, without saying “ thank ycu,” while
Armstrong, 8. new-born feeling of anger rising
in his breast, Went up the steps and said to the
wcman:

“ Excuse me, marm. Be you Mrs. Sharer?”

She looked at him scrutinizingly.

“ Yes, young man. What is It.”

“ I’m workin’ at the Iron Works,” said John.
“Kin you take me to board, and what’ll you
charge, fur meals? I don’t want no , room. I
slee s in the shop.”

“ ould you wish a dinner put up, tool”.

“ If you please, marm.”

“ Forty cents a day, young man, and I don’t
make nothing out of it, hardly. It’s a hard
time a lone woman has, keepin’ a' cheap board-
in —house now.”

ohn made a mental calculation. '
“."ll take it, marm. I kin pay you fur two

days ahead, but arter that I’ll hev to wait till

gay-day, on Saturday. You kin ax Mr.

ker if I ain’t got a steady job; but I’m
kin or outer monev jest now, Owin’ to a sick
dad as I hev, up at P..inted Post.”

“ Painted Post!” echoed Mrs. Shafer, her face
changing. “ Good lands, young man, be edyou
from Painted Post? Why, I were rais in
Stooben county. What’s your name?”

John told her, and it turned out that she knew
his father; so that cordial relations were at once
established, and, within five minutes, Arm-
strong was eating supmd’own-stairs, with the
landlady closely exam ' g him on the life and
fortunes of evsry man, woman and child near
the celebrated town Of Painted Post.

As for John, his heart warmed toward the
poor overworked bonding-house mistress, as
the first townswoman he had found in the wil—
demos of New York, and he forgot all about
the lapse of time till the clock struck seven,
and he jumped up, exclaimin :

“Time to git to sweepin’, . Shafer. See
you to breakfast, marm. Six, I s’pose. ~
night, marm.” .

Then he hurried away, intending to go to the
shop; but had hardl got out of the house when
he saw Suyker on t a sidewalk barring the way
of a rly dressed girl who was trying to get
past im and lookin pale and frightened.

“ Don’t be in su a hurry, my dear,” the
young man was saying. “ If you will only take
in arm, I’ll see you safe home. Indeed, I will.”

e girl stopped, panting and glaring at him,
as she said, very low:

“ Oh, sir, if you are a. gentleman—.pleass—”

Stry ker stepped before her again as she tried
to evade him: and the next moment John Arm-
strong, who had been looking on as if dazed,
suddenly caught the “ gentleman hand " b the
collar from behind, dug his knee in the ot er’s
back and flung him into the gutter, when he
stood aside, without so much as looking at the
girl’s face, and said:

“ Pass on, miss. Please excuse this here young
man. He’s been drinkin’.”

His face was as white as a sheet, his eyes were
blazing, and the girl gave one frightened glance
at him, then sped away like a deer. As for
John, he was looking at Munsou and Wheeler
who had been smoking on the steps. They had
risen and were looking angrily at him, and he
thought that a fight was imminent.

He ran back two or three steps to get all
three in front of him, and saw Jim Stryker ris-
ing from the utter, his evening clothes—for he
had doffed is working-dress—covered with
dust, his handsome face flushed with passion.

“ Let the lout alone, boys,” cried Jim, hoarse—
l . “ I’m the man to bring him to his milk. If
{can’t do it, the uarrel’s none of yours. Now
then, country, by eavens, I’ll see what you are
made of.”

And with that, Ofl' went coat and vest, and
he rus ed at John, his eyes glittering with rage.

They were a close match in size Stryker, if
anything, the taller. John back away and
threw OE his coat as the other approached, say-
ing earnestly:

“ Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Ye don’t know
me, Stryker. I don’t want to hurt e.”

“ Hurt ma !” himed Stryker. “ ake care of
yourself, you fool. NOW, then l”

With that he struck right and left, as fast as
he could send the blows, at the face of the coun-
tryma'n, with a force and precision that showed
him to be aboxsr of no mean order.

But, to the amazement of the lookerson, the

can, awkward countryman kept his head mov-

ng faster than the blows, without even lifting

his arms to parry, cryW: “ Keep OR, I tell ye.
stitio’n’t know me. ell then, take it, if ye
m .

And with that last word, they heard a dull
“ thud,” like the blow of a rammer on hard
earth, and Stryker drogped both his hands,
stood one moment, tremb ng all over, and then
fell into a limp heap on the sidewalk, where he
lav still, a parentl senseless. '

Then JO A rung,- looking pale and resoo
lute said to Mu : ‘

“i call ye tow ,i didn’t want to hurt
him be I wouldn’t ha’ fou’t him fur a
deaf. be boss’s nevyl But Illlty dad told me,
never to leta gal be insulted, ‘ I died fur it.
Take him in, boys. He’s only dazed like. He
got it on the jaw. I’m goin’ to the shop, if I’m
wanted for this.”

Then he strode away, leaving Munson and
Wheeler liftingup Stryker, n ho had a foolish,
feeble smile on his face and was slowly trying
to move his limbs, as it’ he had lost all power
over them. He came to the shop; found the pri-
vate watchman there; was admitted, and set to
work at once on his hard job of swee ing and
shoveling, assisted by the guardian of t e night.

Ime the job was at last finished the clocks
were striking ten, and John observed to the
watchman:

“ ell, that ain’t sobad. We’ll git through
by nine, to-morrow, I reckin.”

The watchman was in the act of answering,
when they heard aloud knocking at the door,
and a voice called through the grating:

“ Shep ard, open this door. You’ve got a.
man on ed Armstrong in there. He‘s wanted,
to answer a charge of asmult.”

“Why, it’s the cops," exclaimed She )pard,
amazedly. “ What have you been u-doin . ’

Armstrong made no reply. but went to the
door, where the gaslight shone upon the uni-
forms Of several policemen, who had their clubs
drawn. a

“I’m the man, gents,” he said, quietly. “I‘m
ready to go with ye. Ye needn’t hev ot so
many. You kin handcuff me, if ye like. ain’t
thatidpngerous as you think. Open up, Shep-

r

Then the door Opened, and two policemen
caught him at once, while two more lifted their
digsl menacingly, and a fifth audibly cocked a
p .

 

CHAPTER III. -
- A BROKEN BOUND.

HAD John Armstrong been a whit less cool
and clear-headed than he was, he would have
been clubbed into insensibillty that night, if not
killed. He saw, on the faces of the policemen,
that m, savage look which the “ finest in the
wor ” have made so familiar to the citizens of
New York, when they start on a little clubbing
practice.

They had been informed that Armstrong was
a “desperate character,” and the bold ca tain
of the precinct had sent out a. special Orce,
with orders to show no mere if the arrest Were
resisted. It never entered t eir heads but that
John would resist, and they were rather disap—
pointed when he held out his hands. saying:

“ Iron me of 9 like, gents. I don’t want to
hurt no one. ’ in’t my style.”

“ Ain’t it?” growled one of his captors. “A
pretty muss you’ve made, anyway. Do you
know that young feller’s a—goin’ to crook? You
hit him with a s ung-sbot.”

John made no answer except:

“ Take me 81011 . gents, wherever you’re
a-goin’. I s’p0se ’11 get a chance to see a

 

jedge in the mornin'.”

wa along the dark streets. “You’ll see the
ju, ge fast enough. Old Brownie, be’llbe apt
to give you a. lit e nine months on the island,
anyhow, and if young Stryker dies it’ll go hard
with you, my cove .”

Again did the cool sense of John help him in
the emergen in which he found himself. A
more excitab 0 man would have talked back,
andso given the bold knights of the club the
opportunity for which they were looking, to
extract damaging remarks from the prisoner,
or bring on a quarrel in which they might
wreak their spite on him.

But John never answered a word. He went
quietly along, so submissively that they at last
' became uhamed of their own needless violence,
and so be reached the station=house in perfect
tranquillity, where he was reported to the ser-
geant, who looked a little surprised, but asked
after the formal questions:

“ Has he been searched for wea nsi”

“ No, sir,” answered John himself. “ I bain’t
got no woepins, and not much in my pock-
ets but a dollar in silver. I jest got in from the
country today, sir. You kin s’arch me.”

e ser ant himself passed his hands rap-
idl over ohn, and nodded.

‘ All right. Give me Eur money and what’s
in our pockets. Got a ifel”

‘ Yes, sir.”

John emptied his pockets and was marched
of! to a cell where he threw himself down on a
cot s'nd fell fast asleep in a few minutes, in the
innocence of his heart, while the sergeant made
an entry in the blotter: ‘

“John Armstrong, native of Painted Post, Steuben
county, New York, on charge of assault with intent
to kill. No bail.”

John slept quietly all night, for the station-
houses in Julyare not apt to be full; and in the
morning he got up, civ11 as before; and, when
be bad washed in the back yard, was informed
that he could send for breakfast if he wanted,
and for a lawyer, too, if be pleased, for be
m' ht need one.

oor John shook his head.

“ I hain’t no money fur nuther, gents, and I’ll
lose my time anywa today. f one of you’d
tell Mrs. Shafer, 81 Ashley street—I’m boardin’
with her—that I want a meal, mebbe she‘d send
one, fur the sake of old Painted Post; but I
ain’t sure. It’s kinder lonesOme here.” -

.5 id John’s face fell. Morning thoughts on an
em v stomach are apt to be gloomy.

‘ as he could not afford to pay a messen-
gert Mrs. Shafer, he had to put up with the
statio..—house fare, for which he evinced a re-
markany good appetite, and, at nine o’clock,
found himself in a certain police court, which
shall be namele, over which Mr. Justice Solon
Brown presided in all the dignity for which he
is no .

John stared round, like the count man he
was, at the dark courtroom, all the ker to
him for the glare in his eyes from the windows
behind the judge. He saw a number Of people
sittin solemnly about, as if in the pews of a
churc ; saw policemen everywhere, and had a
general sense of being in the presence Of some
very might personage, when his name was
called, and e was taken before the bar.

The justice glared on him through his specta-
cles, and observed, generally:

“ Humpbl Well, what’s he matter!”

“ Guess some one s been a-talkin’-—” the work-
man began, when a stern voice behind him said:
“ Shut up. You‘re not called to speak yet.”

John'felt humiliated, and stammered:

“ Ax yer pardin , jedge.”

Then the jud O rved:

“ Hum bl ell, what’s the charge?”

Then ohn became aware that Str ker, Mun-
son and Wheeler were all close to 'm before
the bar, and that Stryker had his head bound
up_ in white cloths, and looked very feeble, as be
5m .

d.

“Please, judge, this ruflian got into a fight
with me and my two chums, here, last night at
our boarding-house, because we refused to drink
with him; and be hauled Off and struck me with
a slung-shot or brass k”uckles or something, I
don’t know what, so that he knocked me sense-
less and then, my friends say, he ran away.”

The justice loo ed coldly at him.

“ Humphl And what’s your name?”

“James Stryker. My uncle is head of the
Excelsior Iron Works, answered the young
man, artfully. “ I suspect this man had a ite
against me because I refused to help him n a
job in the shop. He works for my uncle.”

The justice turned to the other two.

“ Did you see this affair?”

“ Yes, sir,” said Manson, libly. “It’s all
just as Jim says. I think t e weapon must
have been a slung-shot, because the poor boy’s
jaw is broken.”

, “ Humpbl” observed the judge, “ how do
you know that?"

“ The doctor told us so, sir.”

“ What doctor?”

“Doctor Rodgers, six) of Colton street.”

“ Why Michel-e?

Munson looked scared.

“ I didn’t know, sir— We can send—”

“ Never mind. Is that all?” '

“Yes, sir.”

“ Humpb 1”

Then he turned on John.
“Well, you’ve heard.
to say 1”

John cleared his throat nervously.

“ Please, 'edge, I'm a stranger here in the
city, and I on’t see no one here as witnessed
the muss—”

“ What have you got to say?” interrupted
the judge, sharply. “Did you strike this man
or not?"

“I hit him one clip, sir; but only when he
was a-doin’ his best to knock spots out of me.
It was a fair stand-up fight, sir. He Came for
me hot, and I tried to fend him off, ’cause I
dassn’t hit no more men, sence I nigh killed
one on the canal. I told him he didn’t know
me, but he only let in harder, and at last I let
him havo one good ’un, that was all, sir.”

“Hum b! What do you say the fight was
about? 'ou’ve heard his story.”

“Well, sir, to tell the truth, it were about a
gal, as this youn man was insultin’ in the
street, and my 01 dad he allers let on that I
shouldn’t see any gal put upon while I were
nigh by.”

The magistrate looked at him sharply over
his spectacles and then at his three accusers.
He was an Old hand at the business, and knew
there was something crooked in the case before
him, but hardly knew what to do in the_face of
the evidence presented.

He turned to Stryker. '

“If on persist you were struck by a slung-
shot, shu l have to hold this man for tria .
Let me see your face.”

Jim slowly and with many groans took ofi.‘
the swatbings and showed the side Of his face
all swelled up and discolored from Armstrong’s
blow. In the faintest of voices he said:

“ Please let me put them on quick, sir. It’s
torture when the air strikes it.”

The judge beckoned a policeman.

“Call Doctor Sa er,” he said, curtly, and
the club~swi r vanished into an inner room
from whence e brou ht forth a keen-looking
gentleman, to whom t e judge said:

“What’s the matter with that young man’s
face, doctor? Says his jaw’s broken.”

The doctor came up and examined the face
with a certain callous keenness that told of
years of police practicc.

“Yes, it is. Slight fracture, inflammation,
bad state of blood. Young man’s got to stop
drinking, or he’ll have a bad facc.”

Then he looked inquiringly at the judge.

“What did it?"

“ Young man says it was a slung-shot.
it look like it?”

The doctor looked again.

What have you got

Does

“ No. That was a fist. There are the marks
of the knuckles. A slung—shot makes a dent in
one place.”

“ Then it was brass knuckles,” exclaimed
Munson, like a faithful henchmen.
The doctor looked at him scornfully.

 

“ No, it wasn’t. “They cut, and there’ no out

“Ay, ay,” returned the other, leading the l there. That wasa fist. Is this the man that

.man was getting up. and I ran off 11 the block,

 

did it?” ‘

He looked at John, who blushed and said:

“ I didn’t wanter, sir, but I had to hit him at
last. I don’t like to hit any more. I feel kinder
sorry I l’arned it, sir; but I never hits out till
I’m cornered.”

The judge looked at him with fresh interest
now, and the doctor took hold of him and felt
his muscles as if he had been an animal.

Then the medico gruntcd like the judge, and
observed, quietly:

“That man’s a. terror, your honor. I don’t
want him to hit me. Anything mores”

“ No, doctor. That’ll do.”

The doctor nodded ard left the court, when
Judge Brown proceeded in a manner that
showed some regret:

“ I shall have to send you up to the Island
young man. .It’s a clear case of assault, and
you’re lucky It’s not worse. These gentlemen
all swear you struck one of them without provo-
cation, and I’ve no option but to believe them.
llfyog had a single witness who saw the af-

air—

Here there was a slight bustle in the court,
and a girl came running down the aisle, pant-
ing, to whom a policeman said, roughly:

‘ Here, none of that. Sit down.’

“But please sir,” panted the girl, “I know
something Of t is case. I was by. 1—”

The judge, whose watchful eye was every-
where, nodded to the policeman:

“ Let her come I] .”

_A small, ale-faced girl, not over seventeen,
thin and s abbily dressed, with a face that
might not have been ill-looking, but for being
so_very thin, with large brown eyes that had a
frightened look in their de ths, came timidly
up to the bar. Then she bro e out in low, hur-
ried tones:

“ Oh, sir, I couldn’t et here (arlier. I saw
all the trouble yester ay. It was on my ac-
count that this gentlet an—”

“ Stop, stop!” .said the judge, sharply.
“Let’s get this thing straight. What’s your
name!”

“ Ella Morton, sir.”

“ Where do you live, and what’s your occu-

tloni”

" I live at 143 Ashley street, sir. I’m a shirt

aker.”

“Well, Ella, tell us what you saw 1”

. “,I was coming home, down Ashley street,
sir, when this man ”—pointing to Stryker—
“came out from the steps he was sittin on,
and tried to stop me. He got in front 0% me,
asked me to take his arm and wouldn’t let me
alone, though I beg (1 him. Then, when I
was frightened half death, this gentleman
came out of the same house, caught the man by
the collar and threw him on his back in the
street, like a baby. God bless him for it!”

And Ella burst out crying, at which the judge

said:

“ Tut! tut! keep cool, child. Don’t get ex—
cited! Go on with your story when you’re
read ."

Then he blew his nose violent] , and looked
sternl over the court-room, as i to defy any
one w 0 said he was affected.

Ella resumed presently:

“I heard him ask me to excuse the young
man, who had been drinking, but I was worse
frightened than ever, for I saw they were going
to fight—”

“What’s that? What! How did you know
it?” snapped the jud e.

“ Oh, sir, he looks so dreadful, as pale as a
corpse, with his eyes blazing.‘ And the other

but I couldn’t help turning once, an I saw that
man—” pointing again to Stryker—“fightin
this entleman—” turning with a radiant 100
to Jo n—-“as hard as he could. And I heard
this gentleman call out, ‘I don’t want to hurt
you,’ and then—I don’t know how it came, but

heard somethin like a slap, all the way to
where I was stan ing, and that man dropped
and lay still. That’s all, sir, and I hO ou
won’t punish the poor gentleman for de en ing
3. 'rl who has no brother to take her part.”

be three confederaws had turned very pale

at the girl’s entrance, and said not a word.
They had not expected her.

The judge asked her:

“ How did you come here? What made you
come. I mean?” .

“ Please, sir, I saw it in the paper, all written
falsely; but they had the street and number
right, and it said that the prisoner would be
brought up before you, sir. That’s all. I
couldn’t get off on account of mother being sick
till after the clock struck nine, and I ran all the

waly, sir.”
he judge looked over his spectacles at John
and then at Stryker.‘ .

" Case dismissed,” he said, dryly, “and I’d
recommend you, young man, to take the doc-
tor’s advice. Next case.”

Then John Armstrong found himself out in
the street a free man once more, but only to
hear Stryker say, in avoice of concentrated ma-

lignity:

“ Very well. You beat me that time but
I’ll beveven yet. You or I will haveto leave
the works, and you can bet my uncle won’t ship
me for a stranger.”

“ You’re right there. sir. Reckin I’ve got to
look out for another place.”

(To be continued.)

 

Joe Palmer’s Ofi'ense.

ABIZONAIS full of cowboys. Some of them
are outlaws of the worst description. It was a
common thing for eight or ten of these cut-
throats to ride into California City, enter a sa-
loon, present a pistol to the bar-keeper’s head
and demand that the liquors be set out. As the
fiery element warmed them up they would often
secure a violin or banjo and improvise a regular
“stag dance.” Each fellow would select a part-
ner from among the crowd, the musician would
start up the “ Arkansas Traveler ” or some other
familiar tune. and the leader would call out
“Forward four,” and the dance commenced.
When the figure “balance to your partners”
was reached, many a fellow would “cut the
pigeon-wing,” and his partner, not to be out-
done, would indulge in some fantastic steps,
which would do credit to the most famed clog-
dancer on the minstrel boards. In the liight of
this revelry would begin a fusilade from re-
volvers. Bang! bang! bang! and above the din
the leader would be heard calling out: “Turn
your partners; promenade all.” The first fi ure

eing finished every fellow would begin to 00k
at the heels of his boot to see where the bullets
went. The result would disclose that alarge
majority had been bit about the heel with a
bullet. This practice of shooting at the heels of
one’s boots is common among the cmvboys, and
so accurate are they in their aim that an acci-
dent seldom occurs. Shooting tbe heels off one
unother’s boots is a common recreation with
them.

On the occasion of one of these “stag dances”
acowbo who had recently joined the gang par-
tici to in the fusilade. On an examination
at t e close of the first figure one of the mem-
bers was found to be shot through the foot. The
festivities Were suddenly stopped. The lender
announced that an investigation would at once
begin to ascertain the gmlty party. A mock
court was convened. “ Curly Bill ” was se-
lected for judge. Crone was made sherifi’.
Tom Harper was chosen clerk. The sheriff ar-
rested the new member as the guilty party. A
prosecuting attorney was chosen, and the court
assigned counsel to defend the prisoner. In a
few moments the prosecuting attorney handed
the clerk the indictment, and the court ordered
the clerk to read it to the prisoner, who was
commanded to stand up. The clerk did as he
was ordered and: this was the document be
read:

“life the undersigned, grand jurors for the
county of Cochise, in the Territory of Arizona,
do find Joe Palmer guilty of felony in having
wounded Abe Saunders in the foot in attempt—
ing to shoot the heel oil" of said Saunders’s boot
While said Saunders ‘cut the pigeon-wing,’ in

 

' ceipt of six cents each.

 

figure next to the last, in the first 'set, at the

‘stag dance ’ held in California City, in said
Territory, on Saturday night, June 20th, 1881.”

The Court—Guilty or not guilty?

Prisoner—Not guilty.

Court—The trial will proceed. Sheriff. call
the jury. I
_ All the fgrmality of selecting a jury, the tak
ing of testimony and the cross-examination by
counsel was gone through with. No detail of an
ordinary trial at law was omitted. Finally the
case was submitted to the jury, who, after a
few minutes" consultation, announced that they
had agreed upon a verdict.

The Court-Gentlemen, have you agreed upon
a verdict?

Foreman of the jury—“Ye have, your honor.

The Court—Clerk, read the verdict.

The foreman of the jury hands the clerk a
paper. Clerk reads:

“ We, the undersigned jurors, do find the pris-
oner guilty, as charged. 7’

“Joe Palmer,” said the judge, “stand up.
Joe Palmer, the jury of your peers having found
you guiltyof a heinous offense, it becomes the
duty of this Court to pronounce sentence upon
you. YOu have had a fair and impartial trial.
Able counsel defended you. There is nothing
left but for the Court to pronounce sentence.
The sentence of the Court is that you be taken
to the San Simon Valley, and between daybreak
and sunrise be executed. Sheriff, take charge
of the prisoner.”

_ The next morning the sentence was carried
into execution and Palmer was shot.

“Curly Bill,” in speaking of this afterward,
remarked that no man was worth to associate
With residents of San Simon w 0 could not
shoot the heel OR a fellow’s boot while he danced.

 

 

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49 TIP TRESSELL, THE FLOATER. B Edward Willett.
50 Tu: DIAIIOND HUNTERS. By C. unning Clark.

A new issue er week.

BEADLE’s Bovs’ Linux! is or sale by all N ews-
dealers five cents per copg, or sent by mail on re-
ceipt of six cents each. ., EADLE AND ADAiIs, Pub-
lishers, 98 William street, New York.

 

Waverley Library.

152 A MAN’S SACRIFICE; or, At War With Himself.
By Harriet Irving.

153 DID SHE SIN? or, A Man's Desperate Game. By
Mrs. Mar Reed Crowell.

154 HE LovEs E NOTl or, A Cruel Falsehood. By
Lillian Lovejoy.

155 WINNING WAys; or, Kitty Athcrton‘s Double
Troth. By Margaret Blount.

156 WHAT SHE COST HIM; or, Crooked Paths. By
Arabella Southworth.

157 A GmL‘s HEART. By Rett Winwood.

158 A BITTER. MIsTAxE; or, A Young Girl‘s Folly.
By Agnes May Shelton.

159 LADY HELEN’s Vow; or, The Mother’s Secret.
By the Late Mrs. E. F. Ellet. ,

A new issue eve; week.

THE WAVERLEY LIBRARY is or sale by all News-
dealers five cents per copgj or sent by mail on re-
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lishers, 98 William street, New York.

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Ming

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

. 3'

 

  

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

SCHOOL.

BY J0 KING.

 

 

It was many years ago,
Singing-school was out, and so
At the door I stood for you.
When I saw you coming thro h
I was filled with fear and dre ,
And I was afraid that my heart would knock off the
top of my head.

And I know I faltered some
When I asked to see you home;
And my voice was tremuw ;
And to-da I do not know
If you un erstood me quite,
For that was a pretty big moment and an exceed-
ingly large night.
All the boys were standing near,
For they saw me looking queer.
I could veryxplainly see
They were nt on watching me;
But you kindly took my arm,
And though the night was inexpressibly cold I felt
exceedingly warm.
Bright the early winter moon;
All my thou hts went round in tune;
I seemed fu of music; bright _
Even mud-puddles seemed that night;
But although I did rejoice _
And felt so musical, in a measure, I was conscious
that I was considerably out of vome.

Yet, I was a happy fool
Going home from singing-school:—
I to see you safely home!
You to shield from ghost or gnome.
Words could not my joy express— .
I commanded but few words and that was my disr
tres .

'1 int I thought was lesson one—
OI . how pleasantly be_gunl_
How I stepped in musical time
To my heart—beats’ rhythm and rhyme!
My new suit, I felt so grand in it, I
And on the sleeve of my new coat your glove With
your pretty hand in it!

Ah, the hour was etting late
When we stopped efore your ate.
Bright the moon and stars o’er ead
Which on you their glory shed.
So I lingered; I could say;a .
At least “ Good-night,” but kept t t until I should
go away.
I asked on if you‘d go again
Unto thg singing-school, and then
You said “ Perhaps;” oh, sweet perhaps!
I felt perhapsed, and in the la se
A window and your mother’s ead
Opened, with “ Mariar, send that little boy home so
his folks can put him to bed.”

You have an idea that I went

On a bee-line homeward bent,

And for ou the sighs I belched

On a. an den all were squelched,

For I saw that hope was gone
From that moment when by your mother I was sat
- ' down upon.

Ah, you might have been my wife

Through the most part of my hfel

In a little cot to dwell-

0n love and corn-bread rospered well.

Now you’ve married ric , they say,

But you still have my sym athies, and if

ever in need of anybo y to set up in
call on me any day.

The Chase in Assam.
Being Real Experienon of a British 0mm.
mm s! cm. minus am.

L—Hunting the Tiger.

01 all the British possessions in India, there
is none more interesting than Assam—a province
which only of late has obtained prominence, in
connection with the culture of the tea-plant.
But recently, also has it become known as one
of the finest hun ing-grounds in the world—a
very paradise for sportsmen—aflording large
game in greater variety and abundance than
can be found anywhere else-South Africa not
excepted.

The river Burrampooter, one of the grandest
of Asiatic streams, has its course through the
province, bisecting it almost centrally; then,
joining the Ganges at Goolunda, their united
waters are emptied into the Bay of Bengal by
many mouths—~a very labyrinth of them. But
the Burrampooter is one of those capricious
streams that oft change their channels. In ages

one by it crossed along the base of the Casyah

ills; at a later period impinging on the foot of
the Bhotan range; while just now it runs about
midway between. But along its old forsaken
channels are many bheels or tracts of marshy
ground, beset with a lush, vigorous vegetation,
the favorite haunt of elephants, buffalo, and
other “ big game ;” found also on the banks of
the stream itself, and its churs, or islands.

During the periodical floods, which commence
in June and continue till October, the river’s bed
is full; and most of these islands submerged.
But from November to May, when the flood-
waters have subsided, they get overgrown with
tall grass, reeds, and wild cardamons, rising far
above the hight of a man’s head on horseback.
Many of them are of considerable extent—
miles in circumference—with swampy spots
here and there around which the reeds and car-
damons are thickest and tallest, giving safe
cover tothe feridm. But there are also open
places, grassy lades, which afford excellent
pasture to catte; and thither, at this season,
the gwalas (herdsmen) drive their flocks, for
the time taking up their abode by them. It is a
somewhat dangerous industry - alike perilous to
the animals and their owners. or the tigers, at-
tracted both by the wild and the tame—tho pan-
thers, too—then appear upon the chars in formi-
dable numbers.

Oll 8.1'6
[181.0888

 

 

 

 

Since Assam has become known as a district
affording excellent sport, each spring, at the
approac of the hot season, many officers of the
British army, stationed within convenient dis-
tance, repair to it; Rungpoor being a central
place of assemble e and point of departure for
the hunting ex itions.

Having a six weeks’ leave of absence I was
onl too glad to accept the invitation of an old
1clol ige chum residenththere, to make one of a

us ing - party up t e Burram ter. M
friend had failed to obtain a commpiggion in thje
army; but, perhaps, fell more firmly on his
feet by becoming superintendent of Assam po-
lice, with plenty of time on his hands to devote
to the chase, of which he was an ardent disci-
ple. Exclusive of our attendants—a large reti-
nue—there were five of us in the party; our
B—, his brother, a outh of six—
teen; two indigo planters, Messrs. dwards and
James, with the writer.

We had succeeded in borrowing seven ele-
phants from the Moorshedabad Rajah, and five
more from the Suckepoor Zemindar. These
animals, on account of the excessive under-
growth, are absolutel necessary for a success-
ful hunt—especially o the tiger—and in some
districts difficult to be obtained. So, what with
our horses, syces (grooms), the mahouts (ele-
phant-drivers) and other attendants, we made a
formidable show. Our objective point was a
large chur on the Burrampooter nearly Op 0-
site Singamaree, where we had been told the
big game abounded.

Arriving at the island we landed and pitched
camp on it, in a regular and somewhat
elaborate way. For now assured of the pleni-
tude of game around, we intended a long stay.
Notwithstanding our numbers we saw that the
provisioning of the camp would be easy. For
in addition to the stores brought along with us,
small game, both of the furred and feathered,
coulctl be shot anywhere around and at any mo-
men .

On the second day after our arrival (April
25th) we went out on our first regular beat.
Not exactly a beat either, but after game al-
ready spotted and marked down. Some gwnlns
tending their cattle on the island had come to our
camp to report a family of tigers not far off.

We found the felines without difi'icultv; a
male and female with their two half-grbwn
cubs, and succeeded in killing the quartette
without any incident worth recording. The

GOIIG HOME FROM smema- l

old ones chanced to be of the slinking, cowardly
sort; and in hunting a tiger of this kind there
is no more sport than in chasin and shooting
down a tame bullock, nor muc greater dan-

er.
8 But on the churs of the Burrampooter it is
not always so; indeed, the very oppos1te. Ti-
gers swarm upon these on account of the herds
of cattle there depastured; and feedingon the
latter grow fat and lazy, often attaining an
enormous size. In this condition they are dis-
inclined to run away, preferring to show fight;
which makes the task of destroying them
more perilous, and as a consequence more ex-
citing.

On that same day, later on, we had another
encounter with these dan erous animals which
furnished an instance 0 how close they Will
sometimes stick to cover, even amid the loudest
noises. We had returned to camp and were
seated at “tiflln,” when a native came hurr -
ing in, to tell us there were two large tigers in
a patch of jungle grass at some distance off.
He said they had been seen to enter it; and,
furthermore, that they were being watched by
four men on elephants. The man himself was
a mahout, belonging to a party in charge of
the ele hants—not ours, but some others that
chance to be passing through the chur.

Drop ing knife and fork we sprung to our
howda s, and followed the native at the fastest
pace our hu 6 pachyderms were capable of.

On reaching the 8 0t to which the mahout
conducted us, we gund the four watchers
there, sure enough. They were on elephants’
backs, outside the jungle grass, which covered
a space of less than an acre. In the center it
was hollow; and as we could see, boggy
ground, over whic it would not be safe to t_ e
our ele hants; so we beat onl that portion
where t e footing was firm, ma ing noise en-
ough, as we supposed, to start out any animal
that ever squatted in cover.

All to no purpose. Neither tiger, nor other
living thing showed itself; nor was there any
noise to tell of creature being concealed in the
grass. Besides, our elephants gave no Signs,
such as these sagacious animals always do.
when tigers are near. At such times warned
by the scent—their olfactory nerves being won-
derfully sensitive~they “trumpet” in a pe-
culiar manner, beating the ground With their
trunks. As just then they made no such dem-
onstrations, we fancied the strange mahouts
were making fools of us; and began sharply to
rebuke them. But one of their number, a
white-bearded old fellow, clasping his hands

e erience in tiger-slaying, I should have
tlfdhght it the orest of sport. But it was
not; nor yet the ast in Assam; where I after-
ward found reason—little needing it—to_know
that the great tawny and striped feline is
above all others the most dangerous of beasts—
their so—called king, the lion, not excepted.

 

Forecast]; Yarns.

BY C. DUNNINU CLARK.

HANDSOME—i—IBE’S WIPE.

Hxnnsomc J on was the next one to_ yarn it.
You ought to have seen him once, if it was
necessary to see a specimen of preternatural
ugliness. He was simply the worst-looking
man I ever saw in my life, With great, goggle
eyes, teeth which protruded over his under lip,
and a muddy-brown complexion which was
enough to drive a lover of manl beauty about
craz . And his hands looked like hams when
his sts were doubled, and like stu’nsels when
they were open, and his feet were like young
canoes. Then he bad hair the color of a carrot,
and it seemed to sprout out in bunches all over
his head. But Joe had a big heart, and there
wasn’t one of us that didn’t ike him, although
the hands made all sorts of game of his looks.

“I dunno what to tell, scarcely,” said Joe
“but seein’ we all sot out to yarn it, I s’ so I
may as well take a whack at it. See yer; can’t
think of anything better than to tell you how I
got my wife.” _

Everybody laughed, for it was well known
that Joe’s wife was a handsome woman, and
every one used to wonder how such a woman
ever married Joe. But, they knew that she
thought him the best and bravest fellow in the
world, and it wasn’t healthy to say anything
against him when she was by.

“You know, mates,” said Joe, “ that when I
started in sailin’ it was on the great lakes, and
I used to run from Oswego to Chicago. Most
of you fellers are salt-water sailors, an I’ve
beam you talk about pond-sailin’ and that like.
But I ust want you to put it down in your
books t at it’s about the most dangerous work
goin’, sailin’ on them lakes, acause you ain’t got
room to run, d’ye see, and the fust you know
you are on a lee shore. The time I'm
speakin’ of we’d been to Chicago with l'.‘.ll-
road iron in ballast and took back a c.;' o

 

of wheat. The schooner I was in was t

it was wra ai‘snd her body, an’ as the spar
went astergpiteiragged her overboard before she
had time to cry out more than once. She mi ht
have helped herself a little, preha s, but he
stay had caught her arms so that s e couldn’t
lift ’em.

“ ‘Throw the schooner u
sung out, jumpin’ on the rai .
be saved.’ . _

“ ‘ Keep her as she is,‘ screamed the capt’in.
‘ VVe’ve got all we kin do to save the schooner.’

“ I’rehaps he were right—it mou’t be he were
—but I didn’t think of that, an’, kickin’ of! my
boots, I went in, kersousel When I come up,
an’ brushed the water outen my eyes, I saw her
come u with the stay fast around her arms,
look wildly fur help, an’ sink ag’in. I swum my
very wickedest, au’ when she come up ag’in I
had her fast. ,

“ ‘ Now keep cool,’ I says. ‘ I’m glad you
can’t rab me, or both on us would be gone.

“ ‘ ell me what todo,’ she says, bravely. ‘ I
have faith in you.’

“ ‘ All I ask of you is to keep your feet mov-
ing,’ says I, an’ she obeyed like a lamb.

“ I got the stay over my shoulder and raised
her up so thet she partly rested on my back, an’
then, with the other hand, I pulled myself up
to the spar, got my arm over it, an’ made the
rope fast so as eat to keep her head out of the
water. Then I 0t up on the spar an’ lifted
her, an’ soon had or settin’ between the cross-
trees. I cut a stay loose an’ tied her fast, an’
told her to hang on by the cross—trees, an’ then
worked my way back a leetle so thet my weight
raised her end of the spar, while I was buried
to the hips. Then I looked fur the schooner,
but she were gone an’ I couldn’t make out a
light anywheres. I’m afraid I groaned, fur she
spoke cheerfully:

“ ‘ I am not afraid,’ she says. ‘Nobody could
fear with a brave man to guard them, an’ you
are the bravest man I ever saw.’

“Mates, I felt good all over, an’ it seemed to
me it were easy to die fur a woman like that.
All that long night we drifted on, the seas
breakin’ over us, drenched to the skin, but
keepin’ up our courage. Toward mornin’ the
wind lulled an’the sea we'nt downf an’ it wasn’t

into the wind,’ I
‘That gal must

sech hard work to hang on. tell you I
strained m eyes hard, and I sung lory when
I see the It erton workin up towar us, all in

rags, but fit for work. alf an hour arter we
was safe on board, an’ she walked straight up
an’ kissed me right afore the crew, an’ I dunno
how I lived through it. The rest of the trip
we was the best of friends, an’ she told me she

 

 

 

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protestingly over his breast, pleaded for their
truthfulness, sa ing:

“Sahibsl fee ers of the poor! Why should
we tell you a lie? We have been without food
all da , and wore on our way home, where be-
fore t is we might have filled our bellies. But
seeing the two tigers go into the jungle, we
stopped to watch against their coming out
again, and sent for your lordships, that you
might destroy them with your grand us.
And though the shituns—whom may lah
confound l—don’t show themselves, they’re in
the jungle yet, we’re sure of it, sahibs.”

There was an earnestness in the man’s speech
and manner, which convinced us he was telling
the truth; and that the tigers were in the
cover, after all. So we dispatched one of our
attendants to the camp for some rockets.
These, when brought, were sent hither and
thither through the jungle; our attendants also
throwing stones into it, and shouting at the
highest pitch of their voices. But still without
starting tiger.

As it was now getting on to night, and there
was some distance to traverse back to camp,
we were about giving it up, as a cover “ drawn
blank.” Once more the mahoufs came in for
reproaches—this time a very storm of them.
But, as before, the old fellow who acted as
their spokesman entered protest, repeating his
affirmation that the tigers were still within the
Jun e.

“ es, sahibsl” he said, in tone confident as
ever. “The two shituns—Allah doubly con-
found them l—are surely in it, and cannot be
fifty paces from where we stand. You see

onder bunch of tall grass and bushes at the
tthom of the slope? ike enough they’re in
a .

He pointed to a t on the 0 its side of
the hollow, wherespghe bank rgseposup with a
somewhat steeper incline than elsewhere, gar-
nished with a thick growth of grass and some
scrub intermingled. It was a covert not much
bigger than might have given concealment to
a hare; and for that reason we had not
thought of wasting a rocket upon it. Now we
would; and luckily there was one left—just
one; but to make sure we moved around, into
closer proximity with the suspected place, be-
fore discharging it.

due time it went hissing and blazing in
among the stalks of the grass, to start out of
their air a couple of large tigers, the largest
any of us had up to that day seen. '
and tigress they proved when we came to ex-
amine them; for both were killed ere they had
made a second bound. Five guns, cocked and
ready, were awaiting their spring, and at least
‘t'htrele of the five put bullets into them that were

8 a .

This concluded our first day’s hunting 'on the
Burrampooter—six tigers killed as easily as if

 

they had been tom-cats! Had it been my first

 

l‘ ,3

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 ‘~\ .
. ‘ ‘Aglwrgk‘

fillggithl

Tiger Hunting on the Churs of the Burrampooter.

 

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Mary Morton, an A 1 schooner, carrying
twenty-two “thousand bushels, as big a load as
they could take through the Welland Canal.
We run down to the canal and as far as St.
Catherine’s, and there we met a propeller
bound west, and the captain hailed us, an’
he’d brought a lady passenger that far, and
now she’d got a telegram to come back to 09-
wego, and wanted to go back on the Merton.
Our capt’in was willin’, so her traps was sent
aboard, an’ the gal follered. You’ve see’d my
wife, Jack, an’ you know she’s a good-looker,
an’ I say she’s the best little woman in the great
United States. Darn the luck, of it wasn’t jest
as it is, you wouldn’t see me makin’ a long v’y-
age an’ leavin’ her thar in New York. I hap-
pened to be nigh the rail an’ give her my hand
to help her on deck, an’ I see she had all she
could do to keep from laflin’ when she see this
ugly mug of mine, an’ I was redder than a beet
when she looked at me. We got out of the
canal all right and into Lake Ontario, an’ then
came up a 0g so thick you could have cut it
with a knife, an’ you all know what a fog is in
a narrer lake. We hadn’t been outside half an
hour when I see the capt’in was puzzled, an’
didn’t half know where he was. The fog lasted
all day but at night it broke up, but such a
night as it was! Then the wind got up, an’ it
came a-boomin’, an’ we stripped for it an’ run.
We was a leetle short-handed on the Merton,
for Sam Snead an’ Charley Chick was down
with the ager, an’ that only left four men on
deck, not countin' the capt’in an‘ mate. We
could handle her well enough in a smart sailin’
breeze, but when it came to a roarer like this,
we had all we could do to keep her u . It was
dark as a murderer’s conscience, an the wind
howled, the masts sprung like. whalebone, an’ I
looked at the gal—an’ if you would believe it,
though she was a little pale, she seemed to en-
30 i.

‘ ‘I wish I could do somethin ,’ she says to
me, as I was haulin’ on one of t e tacks; ‘I’d
do my best.’

“ ‘You’d better go below,’ I says. ‘ ’Tain’t
’zactlv safe fur a woman on deck.’

“ ‘ Do you think I’d stay in the cabin while
you are fighting for your lives an’ mine on
deck?’ she sung out. ‘ No—I will not, an’ if we
are lost I don’t want to be penned up in a nar-
r0w cabin. Ah! what is that?’

“ There was a crash aloft an’ the fore-topmast
broke off short at the cap, an’ hung poundin’
ag'inst the foremast, tearing up the ratlin’s,
an’ smashin’ the stays. The mate sung out to
me, an’ we out knives an’ went aloft, he on the
Windward, I on the lee, an’ we put in to cut
away the topmast. We got it clear an’ it
dropped,_ an’ while the capt’in an’ Tom Jones
was cutting away the stays an’ everything that
held, Mary was standin’ nigh the rail watchin’
the work, when the wind caught the end of one
of the stays, an’, before we had tim to think,

 

/ 1; A1!
fill/,4
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was a poor girl, with on] an old mother to
take keer of, an’ somehow plucked up courage
an’ told her I loved her. an’ she jest laid her lit-
tle hand in mine an’ said she’d cruise in com-
pany with me. An’ she did, too, an’ somehow
he critter thinks more of me than I deserve
an’ we’ve bin very happy. Arter this cruise I
mean to come to anchor alongside m wife an’
never go out of rt. I only took this trip for
the boy's sake: e’s got to go to college.”

We ve him a hearty cheer and drank a

round in honor of Handsome Joe’s Wife. .3“...

 

 

Ethiopian Ethics.

BY REV. JULIUS JOHNSING.

 

 

“ Let God be True, and Every Man a.
Liar.”

“ DAB am tWO propersitions here sot befo’ us,
an’ it’s only fa‘r to believe dat if do one am
proved to a demonstration, de oder must stand
on de same footin’. De biggest infiddle what
ever denied de fust one, if he looks inter his own
heart, an’ has a reasonable regard for de trufe,
must admit de second. It‘s rough on human
natur’; but if I didn’t speak de trufe ’bout de
marter I’d be liable ter go inter (is second cate-
gory myself.

“We all knows de fust part to be keerect,
’ceptin’ here an’ dar one what would like ter
But de_ Creator on de same lebel wid himelf.

at bein’ de case, it requires no ’speshal ’lucer-
dation on do present ’casion.

“ But whar de dimcklety come in, are on de
home-stretch. Dat last clause ob de statement
am so fur from bein’ complementary dat heaps
ob folks wouldn’t swaller it, if dey see’d it in de
’ late Prem Dispatches. It needs a somewhat
pussonal application; an’ if any one finds me a
eetle pussonal on de present ’casion, dey has
full liberty to mention it.

“De man what ye buys yer groceries from
seems to have a petty cl’ar record. He rents a

 front box in de most expensive, an’ best uphol-
' stored church-house in de city, an’ if he ain’t a

‘ jest as soon s’pect a bank teller.

pillar, he‘s de heaviest sleeper in de sanctooary.
Ob cou’se a man like dat wouldn’t cheat ye. I’d
. _ But dat ain’t
de count in de indictment. He tells ye dat de
corfee, an’ de sugar, an’ de butter, what he sells
ye. am de cheese, ebery time. Well, dev is
bout as nigh bein’chrcsc as what he sells"em
for. When ye finds out hmv much ob de corfee
ain’t chicory, an’ how much ob de sugar ain’t
sand. an’ what perpo’tion ob de butter had
cream for a foundation. it won‘t be from his
tellm’ ob it. Dey say de- trufe ain‘t to he spoke
on all ’casions; an’ dat pious grocer ob yourn is
ob de ’pinion dat it hadn’t orter be spoke in de

 

way ob business. It mought interfere wid his
business, if it war.

“ De same wa wid do men ye got dat suit
ob clo‘s from. Dar sin ebery reason, an’ mo’
too, why his word am ’bove suspiCion. Hain‘
ye seen him pass de sassei- in cliu’ch mo‘ times
dan a little? To be certainly, '8 has. Den,
when he sole ye dat cloff for died in de-wool
doeskin, he told a dyed-in de- wool proof ob dis
po’tion ob do tex’.

“How ’bout dat lawyer? De only reason
why he don’t take to sho’ enou h reachin’,
he’s so good, am ’kase his healti ain’t quite
equil to do dooties. But what de chu’ch lose
in dat way, he makes up by de lib‘ral ofl’erin’s
an’ de labors an’ pra’rs what he makes in do
Sunday school, and de Temperance ’Ciety.
Now, aman like dat ain’t a-gwine to take no
case into cou’t, when he’s satisfied dar ain’t no
jest claim. No mo’ he ain’t gwine to defend
no male-factor, nor female-factor what dere
am no openin’ for ’ceptin’ in de Penertentiary.
If dat am our ’ inion ob dat legal gen’l’man,
ye better eep if, an’ en nuflin ’bout it out-
side. It’s cl’ar ye hain t bin in dust inside
ofiice ob his’n.

“ Dat doctor am de preacher’s right bower.

De extent his overflowin’ piet runs inter,
can’t be follered up dis side oh 9 great here.
after. De ’niount ob good he does for de souls
ob his patients am cl’ar in advance ob do
miracles he works,on de’r bodies. Heaps oh
folks tell ye right now, they’d ’nou h sight
ruther die wid such a man treatin’ ob em, dnn
git better wid some ungodly sinner man’s re-
scribin’. Did dat pious physickan eber ha a
case what he didn’t understand? If he did,
de 0 le had to find it out for deyselves.
Did his r make mistakes in daggernosin or
in treatin’ de case what he had in hand? I he
did, it war owin’ to de fault ob some one else,
an’ not to any ignorance on his part. Does ye
want ter know de plain trufe ’bout dat sick
chile ob yourn—whether he kin pull it froo
dat fevier? Cou’se he kin. Is de ole woman
gwine to recover this bitch? She am; true as
preachin’. Well, you takes his word for it—
what else can ye do? But, now dat de funeral
sermon has bin proach, an de doctor’s bill paid,
you is better prepar’d fer pernounce on de ker-
racter ob de gen’l’man hisself for truth an’
veracity. Better class him wid de lawyer an’
de merchint.
“ But to come a little nearer home. To speak
now Oh de ministers an’ stewards ob de mys-
teries, de selves. De trufe had orter be dere
strong ho t, for a fact. But am dis de easel
How many sarmins, ye reckon, does dat man
preach ag’in’ whisky-sellin’ when dem Six front
pews is rented by men in de trade? How loud
does be sound de trumpet in de cause ob de un-
derpaid laborer, when do employer is tryin‘ ter
sleep comfor’ble in do co’ner ob do chu'chl
When do rich ax him how dey is to set about
gwine in do narrer path, does he tell ’em for sell
all dey has, an’ gib to de poor! I want ter make
his ‘quaintance, if he do.

“It’s de same wid de preacher as wid de peo~
10. De failin’ am universal; an’ do trufe of

crigtur’ must stand widout impeachment.

“ ut, dar am a rule in all cases, dat we orter
recomember; an’ it ’plies, in dis indiwidawal
case, wid mo’ dan or’nary fo‘ce. It am dis—
Present company am allers excepted.”

*

,Focused Facts.

ALLIGATORS are now raised in Florida for
their hides, which bring high prices. Farms
lbiave been started in various parts of the
‘tate.

THE mails in Tennessee are overcrowded with
circulars of various matrimonial and birthday
mutual benefit associations. The Attorney Gen-
eral of Tennessee has instructed the Grand Jury
to indict the managers.

A MERCHANT in Tallahassee, Fla, lately re-
ceived an order for 100 pounds of dried flg
leaves of a bright color. As the order came
from a large tobacco manufacto , the use to
which the leaves will be put is easi y surmised.

Two miners announced ina Dakota barroom
that they were going to dissolve partnership.
“Which of you is to withdraw?" was asked.
“ Can’t tell until the fight is over,” was the re.
ply. This was meant in earnest, too, for the
men fought next day with pistols, and one re-
ceived a mortal wound.

THIS is the story told of the nick growth of
a Texas town: Upon the 10t of September,
1872, one man took another to a lone tree away
out in the prairie and said: “ How will this do
for the center of Main street?" From the spot
there was not a house visible in any direction.
The solitary tree is now the center of Main
street, Denison, a town of 7,000 inhabitants.

JUDGE Fauna, assistant attorney general
for the Post Office Department, who returned
toWashin ton recent] from an extended tour
through exas and exico, reported that the
eastern part of Mexico is becoming rapidly
Americanized, that the railroad, telegraph and
hotels are all run exclusively by Americans,
and that thousands of persons from the North-
western States are settling in Texas preparatory
to entering into the cattle-raising business.

ACCORDIKG to the Enterfirise of Vir 'nia
City, Nev., the butchers on t e Comstock ave
been for some time past retailing jackass rab-
bit for sprin lamb. It is a well-known fact
that the rabb ts of that section of the country
are very la and the lambs small, so that but
few Comstoc ers can tell the difference when
they are dressed ready for market. As to that
matter, parties down Reese River Valley and
along the Humboldt have been doing good busi-
ness all the season shipping grasshoppers to the
Comstock for shrimps.

SALT lagoons are met with in several places
in Apache county, Arizona. The principal
lake or lagoon is near the line of New Mexico.
About 1,000,000 pounds are taken yearly from
this lake, and with prglper facilities it could be
made to produce an most unlimited supply.
The salt is precipitated to the bottom of the
lake, wagons are driven into the shallow water
and the glittering c stals shoveled in. This is
one of the most va uable salt springs on the
continent and besides supplying cattle—raisers in
Apache and portions of Yavapsi, furnishes
large quantities for the working of silver
ores.

THE great question between the farming and
mining interests of California will soon come
before the Federal Court for solution. There is
a very bitter feeling among the miners toward
the farming interests in the valleys which are
cndeavoring to prevent the fillin up of the
streams by the washings of the miners, which
is now going on at a ra id rate. It is said that
60,000 cubic yards of dé 's are daily deposited
in Yuba river. The matter is far more perplex-
ing than the Chinese question, and vast inter-
ests are at stake on both sides. If hydraulic
mining goes on in the old way, navigable
streams will be made useless for such purposes,
and a large area of productive valley land de-
stroyed. If mining industries are arrested,
large sums invested in these mines will be as
good as wiped out.

As we state, in one of our Answers to Cor-
respondents—the first steamer that crossed the
Atlantic Ocean was the Savannah, which sailed
from this port in the year 1819, and arrived at
Liverpool in twentysix days. Her fuel con-
sisted of ine wood, which produced a dense,
black smo e, and the supply ran short on her
first voyage so that her wheels were unshipged
and she made part of the trip under sail. he
created a great stir in Liver 301. but the ven-
ture was unprofitable, and s e did not again
make her appearance as a steamshi . Six years
later the steamship Enterprise saigd from Fal-
mouth, England, to the East Indies, and for this
achievement her commander, Captain Johnson,
I‘Pceived 350.000. lt was not. howevei',~until
the year 1838 that regular navigation of the
ocean between America and Europe was begun.
In that veer the Great lVestern made the trip

 

 

from Bristol to New York in eighteen days.