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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe New Era, 1884-07-18, Page 2• .1.v i884.' •••••... . A clOver irturosIy., The following reply to Burns' popular room is taken from a Melbourne paper: 'A man tnalulValT?" t Burns. hstnt;tha, out though the song be clear and strong, _I41acks a note for a' that, The lout who'd shirk his daily werk, Yet claim his wage ands,' that. Or beg when be can earn his bread. Is mat a man for a' that. If all who dine on homely fare Were true and brave, and a' that; And none whose garb is "Iledtlen grey'," Was fool or- knave, and a' that; The vice and et bne, that shame our time, Would fade and fail, and et,' that; And ploughtuen be as good as kings, And churls as earls for a' that. ----- You see yen brawny, bluetering'sgt, Who swaggers, swears, and a' that; And thinks, because his strong right arm Blight fell sai ox, and a' that, That he's as noble, man for man, As duke or tori and a' that, fle's but a brute beyond dispute,. And not a Iflan'for a' that. A man may own a large'estate, nave palace, park, and a' that; And not for birth, but honest worth, Be thrice a wan for a' that, And Donald hrd1ng on the muir, Who be his wife and a' that, Be nothing but a rascal boor, • Nor halt 11, wan for a' that, It comes to this, clear Robert Burns, The truth is old and a' that, "The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The ma's the gold for a' that." And though you put the minted mark On cophlizo., brass, and a' that. The lie gross, the cheat is plain, And wil. t pass, for a' that: gor a' that Linda' that, , 'Tie soul and.heart, and a, that, That makes the king a gentleman, And not lils urown, and a' that. And man with man, if rich or poor, The best is he, for a' that, Who stand-, eruct in seltrespect, And acts the wan for a' tJaat, PHYLLIS. nr Taut DucicIDSB. Author of "1,1olly Bawn,', "The Baby," "Airy - 4 Fairy Lilian,' eto., "Lucca not ask anybody; /man see for myself. What do you do all day, long but play billiarcie :" "1 beg your perdon, Miss Beatoun. You estimate my capabilities at overy improper level. I do no end of things besides bil- liards. I shoot, smoke, eat, and -talk to you." "What a way to spend one's life I" severely. "I wonder where you think you will go to when you the 2" • "I hope wherever you go. I say," hits - entity, "don't scold a fellow on each et eplendid day -don't; it's uncommon afflict- ing of you; and dent put on yontgloves for aelittle longer." ' fa why 2,, Because I like looking at your hande; though at the same time they ,always irri. tate me. They are the very prettiest I. ever saw; and -forgive me .for. eayingita- but I .always want to kiss them. Now, don't begin again, please; rememberlyou have lectured me for a good hour." • "Then I have wasted. a good hour and done nothing. • I give You up; -youaare past aura." , ." I remember coming here once.before " breaks in Lottie Hastings'. voice,' "arid wishing for something, and I really got it before the year was ont." - • • • • "Mutt one wait a whole year ??.' .aeks Sir Mark. "Then I shall belie to write mine down. Give 'youz my word that if my own name was suppressed for .a year I don't believe I would recollect what it. was at the end of it." "Are we bound .by law.: to name our wilt' hes?" asks Chips, earnestly. "Because, if so, I shall have to, sink into the ground with shame. I'm horrid baehful-thatds my moat glaring fault, you.. know Mimi Beatoun-aud I would not disclose .my aeoret desire.for anything you (amid offer.' "For anything I could .offer," repeots Miss Bestows. "Are you sum? Shall I tempt you? Would You not, for instance, take—" The eyes sayttio rest. .• Don't," exclaims Thornton, putting his hands over his ears. ." I won't listen to, you. I refuse to understand. MissEast- Inge, will . yea permit me to sit by. ynn 2 Mies Beate= is behaving with more.thati her usual cruelty." "Come," says Miss /lettings,totalling aiad putting aside .her 'dress to give.him room to seat himself on the stags near her. As Chips leave fi • Bebe, -Lord Chandos. quietly slips into his place, to Mies Bea- toun's evident surprise. , eager fele, 44 If you told 'any ape the °harm would be broken, end you would net get whet you want. Perhaps -who know'? -the been X am going to demand Will be the very thing you would tell meg' This With a sufficiently tender glance from the lustrous azure eyes. "For my pare," sari Bebe, Wilfully,. " I shall wish for pomething I OM Mar get, just to prove hew absurd it all ie." "From time, to time we every one at he do thole': Biqa ()handed40 We hanker after theephoasible. I begin to fear I obeli never get my heart's (Nedra." ris &Wes, expressively at Bebe. " Thew think of something else," ouggestli that yotlog lady, smoothly. "Your seoond venturamay be more eumetieful," ,10No, I shall keeh to my original until I either gain it or elm find further hophig folly." " Phyllia, it is your turn now. Will you nob demend and court fortune ?" oldle Harriet. I am deeply engaged listening to mamma while She reads to me Billy's last effusion from Eton, to which place he returned the second day_ofter gut ball. '0 It is a pity to disturb Mrs. Carring- ton," says Sir Mark. "She told nie this morning she had not swish left ungratified:! Marmaduke mime his head quickly, owl, flushing warmly, turns a pleased, and Maar surpriecel,glence at me. "Nevertheless, I *ill come," I ory Moan- tieusiy, springing to my feet, "end beg for the, contuanance• of ray happinees, whiz% inoludeo everything." "Oh, Phyllis!" cries Bebe. ' "Oh, Mrs. Carrington," exclaims Sir Mark; "what a rash proneeding 1 Why did you say it aloud? You have destroyed every chance ef receiving that geed gift." "Yes," say X, "how provoking! Never mind, contentment still remains; and that, I have. heard, • is quite as much to bo• desired." • ' Everybody laughs heartily, dand Marma• (Wile BM% "You will get nothing, Phyllis, if you dealer° your wants so openly." " Neither .happiness nor contentment,. how dismal !" exclaim L laughing too, "Well, I anal keep., my third and last thought to myself." And having hoped, in my own mind that Lord Chandos would Very soon again ask Bebe to be his wife, I go through the form of drinking a little of the pure spring water Master Chips, effers me with due solemnity.. The prmeipal businees of the day being concluded, ourparty once more breaks up into detachments, some straying out of sight in pretended march of scenery, some following their example in an opposite direotion without any pretence at all. Sinking down again by mother's side, I content myself with her and Harriet, while Marmaduke and Sir James 40y to bear us company, and smoke Unlimited. Owe, while offering a lazy remark every now and then. ' "Do you feel no desire to investigate the neighborhood ?" aske Sir Mark of me, careleselYi Sale passes by; and as I answer, "No," with a smile and shake of my head, he saunters off towards Lottie Hastings, 'with whom he commences a flirtation, calm but vigorous: Somehow it is a pearieful hour we spend, and one that drives the from the vague irritation . that before .tormented me. In the quiet.of the present I forget all lifi3's Vexations and remember only • such good things as are within iny grasp. How paltry now seem the troubles that oppress me! •I fear -yet know not what it is I lose. doubt -yet, if 'compelled to, do so; would 'find a difficulty in giving My doubt a name. This sweeter mood oontinnes, and travels home with me, although we do not reach Strange:nor° until it' is 'nearly nine. . Here, at an early supper, we all find ourselves in the wildest spirits. Glancing curiously at Dora, attracted by some name- less new expression in her eyes, I feel 0011- vineed • the • cle,y has been to her one of unmixed triumph,and that already the Wishing Well lute gra.nted her desire.. . As I get near her in.the drawing -room, I manage to whisper, "What hi it, Dora? did he Are you1-2-", "Yee he did; and I am," responded Dora, with a smile of unusual liveliness for her. "Tonight you shall know all." "How was it, Dora? How did it hap- pen?" I ask, to hours later, as I sit opposite to her, my bands embracing my knees, in myfavorite position, my head bent forward' in -eager entioipation of her "Is ib fair to' encourage that poor boy so' very openly 2" begins Chandos, calmly. "What 7" says Mies Beatoun. • "Is it kind to flirt so much with young Thornton ?" repeats Lord •Chandoe, Btitt very calm. "You must make a mistake," says Bebe, provokingly. " You know I never flirt. In .the first plate°, 1 don't consider it good form." • • "Neither do I consider it gobd form' for a young lady to talk along,' very gravely and quietly. "1 wouldn't do it if I were you.' " How do you know what you would do if you were 1?" At all events, you MUM, acknowledge that it is not bccarning." "Do you profess to understand what is becoming to young ladies Have you been etudying them 12 Come, then, if you areto good a judge, 11 will ask you to tell me if' this hat is ses verv becoming as they all say. Look well, now, 'before you decide ; it is a queation of the utmost importance." , This saucy little speech is acoomponied by snob bewitohing gle,noe from under the said hat that Lord Chandos toms his presence of mind. "1 menet bear •to see Ton flirt so 1:8110 RH you do with revery one," he mutters, hastily; "11 tortures me. Bebe, why is it ? ' Miss Beatoue growe decidedly white, even to her lip., yet is still thoroughly tomposed. "But do I flirt ?" she says. "1 doh% believe I do. Do you believe it, my darling, My Meacham, my Tito ?" to tlae.dog. x.pp you. No, no, ford Chandes e it is not that at all." "What is it, then?",impatiently. "Why, it is every one who flirts with me, to be sum. And that in not my fault, is it ?" with the meet howilcleting swamp - tion of injured innocence, And now wo all riga and saunter towards the well. "11 you would only wish as I do," whis- pers Sir George to Dora, "1 would be the happieet man alive." "Would you," Says innocent Dora. "Bus how shall I know what you are longing for?" Can you not guess ?" • "1 am afraid I cannot. 'Unless wino -but no of 0011tHe it would not be that. Indeed I'do not loloW how to reaoh your thoughts. One mast want so.rnany thing." ,T want only one," duke and I would have been most welted to each other. Ile Is tar too av.ligleer and, tuenterful for my taste. George In In eVtiry Way more desirable," / awes quite see,all this, but reaerve my ientiniente. "Ho is greatly to be liked," I say, with trubb-inment• good-natured George Ash. uret having won his way into my affeotiona long etnee. "1 don't know that I was over more delighted about anything in my lite." "Yes, everybody will be pleased, I inn, - gine -papa and menarna eapeolelly. I don't see how papa oan melte the fainteet Oleo - tion in any way, He MUM feel gratified," I think ot Sir George's rent -roll, and have the words, I should think so, indeed," %muffle tip of my tongue, but desirous* keeping up friendly relations with Doris, refrain from uttering them. adhe evidently takes her good fortune as a matter of comae, having over rated herself at is high prioe, and believes she has got her bare deserts -no more. , • "1 hope you -that is, I hope he will be very good to you," I say, making the con. ration in time. ' "1 hope we will be very good to each other. Indeed, k see nothing to prevent our being quite happy and -comfortable. Don't you think he appears very fond of me 7" "More than that; I think he appears to. love you very dearly." "Yes, I really think he does," says my dieter, runningter fingers lazily through her silken yellow hair. "And you, Dora -do you love him?" • "01 course, deer, Would I marry him elm? Am I the Bort of • person to sell myself for mere money's sake ?'' vIndigna- tion of the mild and virtuous order is in her tone. "No," says Dora, calmly looking me fair in the epee. "1 would not marry a man unlearn I loved. him -not if he had the mime of Golconda. This ennobling sentiment is, I feel, aimed at me, and justly judge it will be unwise to prose the matter farther ; so I Bay, "1 am so glad, darling I" but soy it very weakly. Nevertheless," gees on Dome.: after a moment's pause' " SS .1 do love 'aim, it is very fortunate he should be so well off. Yesterday he told me he had twenty thonie and pounds a year. Rather more than you have, dear, is it not ?" • No, Dora has not yet forgiven me. "A great deal more,' I say warmly; "we have only fafteen thousand. But then, Dora it was only to be expected you would make is far 'better match than I could." "Well, yes -perhaps so," admits Dora, dastifig an admiring glance at her own pretty_shell•pink face os it smiles baok at her from an opposite mirror. -• • ' • The door opens, and Marmaduke comes in. . • "Ob, !Duke," I oryerising, "hat fancy! Dora is -but you WWI guese my news - What is she • • • "That is a•rather !embarrassing • ques- tion," says he, smiling, Were I to tell you alithat Dora is in nas, eyes, we would' get no sleep to night." • r Dora laughs, and Lamy:• . ' • "Nonsense.! A list of her "perfections would be no news; we all know them. Tell me what you think has occurred to her dike this morning." . "1 think she has become engaged to George Ashurst," returns 'Duke, coolly. "Why, you foolieh child, do you call that 118W8 Ashurst has told every °nein the house of his good luck by this time. If I were you, Dors, I would breakfast in my own room to -morrow morning. You will never be able to stead all the oopgratula. . • • "How eau he be so absurd !" murmurs Dora, for once in her kite genuinely eon• fused, and a riala red coloring her oheeks. "1 congratulate you with all my heart," Ban 'Duke, kindly Miming her. "You have got as good a hualeand as you could desire, and as rich a one, too, without doubt. We shall be small people, Phyllis, you and I, next to my Lady Ashurst.' • :",I must not stay to hear any more flat- tery. Thank you very much „for all you have mid," replied Dora, gracefully, and, having bidden us bath good -night, goee off to her own room. . ' • Every one in the hues& is immensely delighted. An engagement, even when everything belonging to it goes smoothly, and suitably, cannot fail to awaken inter- est in the heart of a woman; and, Dora's lover being ainooveted by any of us, no jealousy shows itself to mar the universal good feeling. We chatter about it all next day, and tell each other we had seen how it would and from the very beginning. We dilate on the charming place he hos in Surrey, his palace in the north; and then we whisper of What a deteatahle creature is his mother; while Bebe hopes Dore. will have cour- age to hut a veto at once :'-gitilist any lengthened visiting on her part. ' " Beoause," days Miss Beatoun, " we ail know where that will lead. When Ashurat's brother married Lady. Ootavia Derhig, his mother invited herself to pay' .them month's visit; and she stayed ten.; and it was the doctor and the rause, eventually, who insisted on, peatting her out, shortly after the boy waeborn. They Bay poor Lady Ootavia•neorly went out of her mind. one morning •when, on going into her nur- serytehe found the old lady deliberately pouring Boma natifieous allopathic medicine down the child's throat. Ocitavie, told nie herself, with tears in her eyes, the poor little fellow was all but in a fit for two hours afterwards. She is really a shooking old perinea, and should be suppressed. I do hope Dora will gather together all her pluok and try to be a match for her." Seoretly, I feel so enured of dear Dore,'s being a "match" for any. mother-in-law alive that 1 endure no uneasy pangs on this adootint.She is 'indeed tot _perfect in her new role of bride -elect as though she had suatained the part for years. . . Sir George n,aust be it favorite with the gods; let us hope he won't die young," says Sir Mark, bending over Dora Boccie time during the evening. 01 Ife has had every- thing he could possibly desire from his °radio upwards-naoney, friends, position; and now he must get you. I think" -in playfully injured tone-," the good things of this life are very unequally divided. In common justice, Ashurat should have been forced into matrimony with p, woman as ugly, ilhtempered,and altogether dieen- chanting as his manners, instead of which ot He sighs audibly, and makes an eloquent pause. " I hardly know. It ,veas all that Wish- ing Well, I fancy. For the future I shall feel it my duty to be superstitious'. At all events, it surely helped to bring it about, as he only wanted the opportunity to declare himeelf," says Dora, complacently. " What,did he say, Dora? Was he nerv- 011e-Or-a—" one t me oec," with a delichius mad'. Olone 1 Oh, howa moderate! Only tatty° a , and two slender Angers premed upon her lips. "Shall I tell you 2" "05, no, no," with a pretty ehoW of "Very nervous. He seemed quite afraid to 001118 to the -point. You Hee I am always so distant in my manner," says my medest aster, "he had no way of judging what my enewer was likely to be." " lam sure whatever he has said was just what it should be, he is so thoroughly sin- cere," I remark, still anxious to get at the root of the matter. "1 am afraid I cannot altogether eatiiify your curiosity, Phyllis, it has all got so mixed up. Of course he told me prince, pally what I knew before -that he adores roe, for instance, inel was desirous of mar- ryitig me, and ad forth. He was slightly incoherent, I thought; but it rattily signi- fied very little whether hie English was good or bad, BO long as I managed to under- stand what he meant." "01 course not, dealing, Oh, Dora, I am so sorry we let mamma go without tell- ing hen" . "I did tell her, dear. At least, that is, be -George told her." She brings out the Christian name of her beloved with a ohaeming anaount of diffidence. "He said he would like to make sure of me; and indeed I thought •rnyeelf it might perhaps be as well he should be the one to mention it to her RS a eettled thing. You under. stand 2" I doectnet_begiu_te_entertain rather an admiration for Dora's astuteness. "You will forgive me now, Dora 2" 1 say, Suddenly leaning over to put my hand on hers. "Forgive you? Forgive what 7" "Welt dear, when I mottled 'Duke, you know, I thought you were rather vexed - you aaid so many things;.arid sometimes have fancied, since, you still think was in the wrong." ' • "My dear Phyllis, what a ourious girl you are 1 Forgive you 1' as if I had not done eo ages and ages ago -if indeed there woo anything to forgive. Surely you couldn't have thought me so vindictive, so unchristian, se to retain bitter feelings spied you all this time 7" - She has opened her childish blue eyes to their widest, and ia gazing at me plain- tively, as though grieved I ebould imagine her capable of any vile feeling. "1 minetimee fectred--, ' stammer, utterly abashed in the presence of no much sweetness. "Yott must put Imola Woad Mit of your head, Phyllis; they are very unworthy. I never harbor unforgiving thoughte,I ehould hope, towards May one -least of all tewards you, nay sister. Besides, I ought really to be thankful to you, if anything. Marina- growing interested; it very. listlalater I feel I am growing; sleepy. My lido deep. Put. tingmy book down upon my lap, with of courea the settled intention of taking it up ,again directly, I yawn mildly. The door opens; with a start I beoome aware of Bebe' s entrance. To admit I am present buena convereation, and 00aVerse• Con with this drowsy fit on me means nibiery. I therefore keep breathless silence, and Bebe, all unconscious, saunters paet me, basket and Worms in hand, and goes into the conservatory. I watoh her dreamily, as with a businese- like air fille dregs the light garden -ladder forward, and, mounting, oommenoes to ollp my very choicest blossoms for her own emoret purposes. One by one they fall into her basket. Has else no conscience? Or has she forgotten it is already Ootober, and the flowers grow scarce ? confess to some faint indigna- tion as regardher, and have almost decided on rousing to remonstrate with her in per- son, when a firm but hasty footatep upon the gravel outside excites my curiosity. , A moment later Lord ehandos pushes open the door of the conservatory, and, entering, stops short, his gaze fixed upon Mies Bestoun. As for Bebe, between looking suddenly round and surprise at his unexpected pre - 001100 there, she loses all idea of balance, and is it the act of coming with undue hurry to the ground, when Lord °handed stepping quickly forward, catches her and ightly lifts her down. " Ohl how could you frighten one so 2" exclaims Bebe, coloring, and 'speaking ungratefully, as it seems to me, ooneidering he has just eoved her from a heavy fall. "1 thought you. were out ebooting with. the others," "So I was; but -I forgot something, and had to return for it." . "What did you forget? -your pipe ?" "No, my gun," replies he, in the most barefaced fashion possible. aaj.„lah 1" cries Mies Beatoun lengthily, and then .they both lough. JOIOMPL AMR TI114 81" /Modern Miami IlispInvtlien sr tie Apra. rent (1111raele al etb-Slerelso (Irons Notes *DA QUeries.) .As this has again become a subject of some disousidon, perhaps it may I/sorest your readers to remind them thee the Bret person to suggest the interpretatiou of an extraordinary refraction caaping the sun and M0411 apparently to roman. above the horizon longer than usual was Spinoze, in the seoond chapter of his 01 Trootatus Tbeqt logioo-Folitioug: Spinoza, whom objaot was to dispense with the necessity for a miracle, confuses the refraction of the rays of light by the otinosphere with their dia. persion or scattering, and aBBUMMI that the appearance was strictly similar to such prolongations of daylight aa• we have wit - missed in the recent gorgeous sunsets. Some late writers (e.g., the late Rev. T. Milner, in his "Astronomy and Scripture") have supposed that there really was an abnormal refraotion whfch kept the BUR (eUpp0130d to be near its setting) apparently above the horizon for some time longer than usual. A consideration, however,of the position of the site of the battle and its vicinity shim) that any idea of this kind is untenable as well as unnecessary. Sethi:mon is to the northwest of Gibeon, so that the sun must hey° been in the southeast, and the time of day early morning. It was' the prolongs, - tiara of darkness, not of daylight, that was desired, and thin is evident from all the cir- cumstances mentioned' in the narrative. The Hebrew word translated "Stand thou still," means literally "Bo thou silent," and the objeot of Joshua's prayer was that the elm might not shine out over Gibeon, where it was just about to rise, or the moon, where it had laat been seen nearly - setting in the West, over the -Valley of. Ajelon, but that the gathering tempest might Bo everolond ,the heavens as to obscure the landscape and give advantage to'the attacking force of Israelitee. This has been dwelt upon by the Rev. A. Smythe •Palmer in the current number of the '1' Church Quarterly Review ;1' bat the Rev. • T.Pelham Delo (Who had himself written an article taking the same view in the •Christian. Advocate for 1871) pointe out in the num- ber of the Church Titnes for the 8th instant that it seems to have been ilist noticed by the tete Henry P. A. Pratt, 31. D.- in his " Genealogy of Creation," published in 1861. Dr. Pratt there says (p. 206) : "11 has been said that Joslaho's plan was a night attack, and that be marched all night to accomplish it, . and here is gathered the firet clue towards discovering, through what was 'required, what must have actually. taken place; .for .having marched all night he would necessarily not reach Gibeon until daybreak, or so close upon the dawn as to make it Only too probable that his plan would fail through the abeenee, of the darknees necessary to its inneem." • . The words, then, of prayer afterwards incorporated. with many other pieces into the poetical book of jasher were: Let theaun be silent over Gibeon, And the moon in the valley of Ajalon I ' the word silent when applied ' to the dun meaning "nab to shine.' And the end of • verse thirteen is literally rendered by Dr. Pratt, "Tho sun remained il1 the clouds of the heavens, a.nd 'shone not on arising as Jon) an ordinary day." The dark tempest was followed, as we all know, by a tn. mendous hainatorm, which completed the destruction of the routed Amorites; . ._-_. • ' • The Use et Ottrigen. Inquiries concerning the use of oxygen gas in cases of cholera were made in the New York Health Department yesterday by a reporter of 'the Evening Post, Dr. Edward II, Janes, chief medical officier of the hospital service, said that he had known of the gas being used with good. results in cases of collapse not resulting from cholera, when it was necessary to bridge over an interval, so as to give nature and remedies an opportunity to act against . disease. He thought that its bee in cholera was worthy et consideraton. Dr. *Mores Mimes, Chief Sanitary lime° tor, said that he administered oxgyen psi to a oho. lera patient in this city in 1.866. Atthat time he Was experimenting with the gas, chiefly in the oases of Imig disease, and he also used it in other oases where oollapee had occurred • or was feared. Where the patient WW1 only just going iuto the collapse the inhalation of the gas was effective, but in the cholera oases the patient was already in a stele of collapee and was not Kneed. The generation of oxygen gas was at that time attended with much difdoulty. 11e could not produce it rapidly. or abun- dantly enough and it was not pure. Now its manufacture had been reduced to it system by which it could be produced as abundantlytts desired. Still, its produc- tion' was expensive, and this feat, together wth the difdculty of carrying sheet bulky retorts, eto„ would tend to restrict the adminiatration of oxygen gas among poor .people during it oholera epidemio. Hence its usefulness would be chiefly in hospital practice. He did not think that it would be ser ' eable _as a prophylaotio against s‘ -cholera, is 6, remedy agairist the disease 2g1' se, but atit Would be valuable as s' diffusible stimulant to increase the action of the heart and revive the energy of the patient. ' "Why don't you admit you had no intention of shooting to -day? It Would have been Much honester." • ." Because admissions are dangerous. It is always better to leave people in 'doubt. Yet, as I never elites you in my own mind under the head of people,' I will confess to you it is not ao much forgetliduess oeuses nly presence here hest now. as a set- tled determination not to remember.. My conscience was anything but clean when I • said I had mislaid something, and should come 'batik to find " "Was it really your On " NO ; I think I put it on cartridges, or, a handkerchief, or -I am not ole'ar what." "And why? What was your 'motive? I fancied you an indefatigable sportsman - one impossible to turn aside from your prey.' "Shalt I' .tell you my motive ?" asks Chandos, in such aneutterly °hanged low tone that Mies Beatoun, standing near the ladder, laya her hand suddenly upon it to steady herself, and retreats a atop. " idetter not," she sayeelen a voice that trembles apprehensivelY, in spite of all'her efforts to he ,calm. "Remember what you , said a moment Sinn,: Admissions are dangerous.' Better leave me in doubt." "1 cannot. Besides, you are not in doubt. You know what it is k am going to say. I have cora° back .here again Wiley to 4011' you how I have tried, and found it impossi- ble, to crueli the love I bear you." At this juncture I become aware I am in for a soene. The certainty is horrible to me. I am in such an unhappy position as enables me to seethem without myself being seen. I can also- hear every word they utter. In fact, there are but very few yards between us. ' With shame I now recollect that Bebe once mid; of me that never would I be amused' of "pouncing" upon delicate situations; yet, it I go out now. I shall cover them both with everleetingconfusion. What shall I do? I put my fingers in my imp as a last resource and tightly atom my eyes, but somehow they will not keep shut. Every now and then I oannot help glancing to see if they are gone or going; I cannot resist removing my fiegers to hear if the conversation has taken a cooler turn. •Every moment I linger only makee • my declaring myself more difficult. I end by giving in, and staring.a,nd listening with all my might. ' Ah 1 why does Bebe look so deter- mined? Why can't she yield'gracefully and be happy? I would at once were I in her place, and Teel no degradfition in so doing. She is flushed and miserable to look at, her large eyed seeming larger and darker than usual through pained excite- ment. Yet, still there is so much mistaken pride impressed upon her features as makes me fear for the part •she will take in the interview. If she would but listen to her Scan's dictation! • • , "Lord °handed I implore youto desist," entreats Bebe, hastily, raising one hand, to prevent his further *Ocala "It is worse than useless." . • • But he only imprisons the warning hand and continues "Nay, hear me -that is all .1 ask -and then, if am again to. be rejeoted, be it Bo. But surely I have been wretched long enough, and you "1 will not listen,' murmurs Bebe, more deeply agitated, "Tho anavver I gave you when you were poor is the onlyanswer I can ever give you now." Her voice dies away, almost to a whisper. "What do you mean by that 7" exclaims Chandos, paesionstely. "Is the very money that I hailed with delight, princi- pally because I dreamed it might bring me oloeer to you, to prove a barrier, between us? Presumptuous as it may aound,1 dare to believe Lam not quite indifferent to you. Your manner when we parted, your eyes when we' met again down here, have fostered this belief, and yet you ehriok from me." ' . A little inertionlate cry efioapes her. One hand gam to her throat; she Wee vainly to withdraw the other from his grasp. "Contradict me if you can," he Bays, in a low but vehenaent tone. • 14 This is ungeneroufia:-unmanly," .she falters, her words half ohoked with emo- tion. "Contradict me," he reiterate& "1 can; I do," murmure ehe, but so weakly that her voice oan scarcely be heard. ' "In that the truth, Bebe ?"; says Chan- dos, more quietly. " Is pride to mane between us now? Darling.liaten to me. If you for one moment imagine I think badly Of you beceeise you refused to pastry a poor man, you wrong me. I think you acted rightly. Even at I Relied you that day I felt myself a coward in doing no. Was it honorable of me to seek to drag you 'clown frden all the luxuries and enjoyments to will& you had been accustomed, to such A life as it was only in my power to offer? Had your answer been different, do you believe we would have been happy? I do nnt." . • "You strike tit the very root of all remaned "' protests Bebe, with a rather Had Croseith the hall and the arnaller draw- ' Dore, an:tiles, her usual soft Barone smile, untouched by coquetry that experience bet taught me meant ao little-0,nd raises one white hand in deprecation. "18 Lady Ashurst all that you say 7 -so Very terrifie ? How unhappy you make mei" she murmurs, plaintively, demurely ignoring other parte of his speech.. =maze ear/. Fresh and keen, and decidedly chilly, blows the Ootober wind. The men have all deserted be, and gone out shooting. T13,3 `Vernon are Mattered thrall& the house. InclARGRAPHIr. The Tinte (Haw *heat 20 Worth win be lent ter 5. Vennt—A Wiredertal veep's. The eleetriciane, it memo, are never idle. The,latest invention consists in the 0011* oeption and suoceseful development of a, taMninailen of instruments catioble of utilizing a single telegraph wire for the simultaneous transmute= , of almost numberless =wages with as much ease and rapidity at if the distant points ware (=needed, by a multitude of lines. The in-. volition is known &tithe eynchronous inulti- ptox telegraph, and the inventor is Mr. Rt B. Delany, of New York, s young Man who first commenced his career in electrical Li:lettere in the capacity at aei operator at the office of the old Franklin lothograph Company Maio city. He has been at work on his hobby for some two or three-.' yeare, and it has now been brought to it degree of suocesti little shore of voile°. tion. The first considerable demonstra- tion of this fact was afforded on Monday evening over a line between this oity and Providence, whioh was witneesed by several prominent electricians, journalists and others. The inventor managed the expenments at this end of the line and Edward A. Callahan, one of his associates, directed affairs in Provi- dence. Half dozeu Morse operators st either end of the line worked with each other at the mane time with as muols ease and 'Teed as if they were furnished with! ' half a dozen different wires. The average speed obtained in a five-minute contest was twenty-three words per minute, and later, in it quarter of an hour trial, an average of thirty .words per ininute w as easily ob tained during p.ortion of the time. A. trial of printing iustrunients, espeoially devised for this system, was subsequeptly had, and the restate secured enstained the claim of the inventor that 110 less than thirty-six meeeagea ca,n be transmitted by them over it aingle wire at the ism° time, making a total of eeventy-two telegrams peeing simultaneously. It is not necessary that this stated number of telegrams should be working together in opposite directions, for the whole number or any portion of them can work in a angle direo- thin juat as well if it is desirable. In brief, the invention allows the same operetiontate 'be carried 011 over a singlewire by a plur- ality of operators as if there was a separate wire provided for each, as in the common ... system of telegraphy. . It is Unmistakable that Mr. Delaney has eumeeded in reducing to practice what is undoubtedly a new art. The system has been examined by the leading electricians e. and telegraphers in the country, and they • all unite in pronouncing it as important an improvement over the quadruplex system ' as the quadruplex system was on the or. dinary eingle wire errangement which it aimed to supersede. . WHAT IS CONTEMPLATED. simile ing.room, Tema' no onee'and Metering the - ' (to be continued larger apartment beyond, Fink my favorite met in the bow -Window, *here, book in A sudden boom in potatoes in Ottawa prepare to be lazily happy. tains, and, stretchieg Myself upon a lounge, mg" for 01,50 a, hag, while .9, few. day•A I feelt mit hall that 'pride. " ago they nould be purchased for testi than and itil Iridinity is reported, the emulent hand, X ensconce myself behind the mita Steadily I tutu page after high. • Illiamends'Giting Might le the Dark. A curious point in diamond lore has just been eetablished,,to the delight of savants, in Paris1 where the exhibitton of the crown jewels at the Louvre hae made the subjeot- very popular for the moment. It has long been laid down, says the Pall Nell Gazette, that the diamond has the power of retain- ing light land of afterward emitting it in the dark. The theory has been well buttreseed by reasons, but the proof has not been easy of test. All, or Dearly all, the great diem:tends-such et the ICohinoor; the Re. gent, the Grand Mogul--oannot for pub. lio reasons be made the subject of experi- ment, and stones of a leeser size do not al. ways give satisfactory results. Happily, a private individual, the owner of e gem of ninety-two carats, and estimated at a Value of 300,000 francs, has lent his diamond for scientifie Investigations. These have been most satisfactory, and the 00 phoephores. once " of the stone may he regarded as proved. The diamond was exposed for an hoer to the .direot action of the flun's rays and afterward replayed into a dark room. For more than twenty Minutes afterward it emitted a light, feeble indeed, but still sufficiently strong to make a sheet of white paper held near it quite visible in the dark. A eimilar result wee arrived at by a eery chilarent experiment, and light was gener- ated by rubbing the stone With 0, piece of hard flannel. d, The Teeth of the Futuro.” The London Lancet has a long article on the above .itubject, expressed in technical language,whieli the Scientific American sums ui p n a few simple words as follow: The' inforenee is, the teeth are being gradually evolved into brain Matter, and as man inereame in intelleot hit nacititioators beoonae lanneeeseary. The futtire man will 'have it large brain, but no natural teeth. He will have to depend on the meohanical deritiet. An agrioultural laborer gets 374 cents A day in Natio°, sod he thinke it fair pay. The inventors and owners of the patent are not in the market with rights or stook for sale, but are engaged in building lines for the actual transaction Of buainess, The line between Boston and Providence is tbe first link of 0, line now being pushed through to New York. It is the purpose of the Standard Multiplex Telegraph Com- pany to extendthe syetem throughout the entire country, reselling all the leading cities as rapidly as possible, and to conneot intermediate cities and towns:. In order to mere quickly and efficiently accomplish this work, . it is proposed.' to alma the • country into five grand districts, the cone- panies controlling suoh districts to license subordinate companies for special routes and localities, so that a local exchange and general telegraph system covering the entire country may be accomplished. A • careful estimate shows that the company can profitably transmit menages of 201 words eaoh at the rate of 5 cents per mes- sage between all important points of the country. -Boston Herald. 44 The cur. of Arlie San." The, ruins of Heliopolis, "150 City'of the „ San," which adjoin the present village of Metarijeh, is about five miles distant from Cairo. This famous place is identified as the On of the Bible, wbere Joseph took the daughterof the priest Petiphera,h to wife. . The elle ot the once important oity is ap- propriately marked now by the oldest obelisk.that has yet been discovered, avith. the exception of a small one in tne nedrogo. lie of Memphis. The companion te this ' existing obelisk (for obelisksare always( erected inpaire) passed away over twelve hundred years ago. The two were erected four or five thousand years ago. The re- maining one is a shaft sixtysix feet high, of red granite, oovered with hieroglyphics. The metal On the pyramidium at the top has paseed away, and the successive, inun- dations of the Nile have piled a good many feet of mud about the monument.• At Heliopolie was also the finest Egyp- ° thin temple, with one exception, in those Old Testament days -a temple dedicated to.the sun, and employing a staff of pries% menials, oustodians, and other attaches whieh is said to have numbered no lees than 12,913. The Pharaohs were especially proud of their title as "Lords of • Heliopolis: Nearer • the modern village are the tree and well of the Virgin. The Virgin's tree is a deciayed sycamore, planted in 1672, allegedly upon the Rite of it preyi. ous tree, in the hollow trunk of which ttiery had concealed hereelf and the divine onild. Not satisfied with well enough, the people inatheMeirfity-spoilatheinaleetradition by also averring that a spider spun. hie web acmes the opening so as to effectually screen the fugitives. I did notlearn whether the spider and his web are etill preserved here or not. The present tree was presented to the Empreee Eugenie by the leaerlive at the inauguration of the Suez Canal. a is also stated onapretty good authority that the balsam shrub, the Wiliam of which the 0118811 of Sheba presented to Kies Solo- mon,once throve hi the vicinity of Heliopolis. Thoplant has long since ceased to grow there °bouts. Cleopatra, atm apted to reintro- duce 11, but without 1311000PB.-Cor. New Orleans Times -Democrat. The liens Due'to a Sunburst. . The New York Tribune, in its local weather review of Friday, said: "The eudden coming . of the exceesive heat id attributed to a ° outburst ' following suck, dotty upon the settee of sun spots whit& have exieted for many days." The Tribune in entirely oorreot, says theyRoohester Democrat. The foot that thiar sunburst" has not yet beeh productive of severe and general eleotrio storms it reason for hop- ing that it will not be followed by a severe Cold reacnien and frost. The Ictet preceding "outburst" was followed by heavy thunder showers and several tornadom. The rem. tion caused frost in New England and New Jersey, although the reaction was arrested by another sun atom), the heat from Which was first felt in the PICA. We are glad to mete that the sun is receiving proper atten- gen in the weather obeervations alba day. • John Partelo, Of Stonington, Oona, 86 years of age and deaf for the past forty years, was aatoniebed one raornihg reeently on awakening to find his hearing completely motored.