Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1894-02-16, Page 6is•• THE WING 'AM TIMES, FE13RUARY 16, 1594. T ,.JO AN ' .'y•�oc .c'aa.=.Ocoq o C=t =0, Ir.. COPYRICi 1T 1393 DYJ.6.UPPINCOTT COMPANY. PI1DUS11[D DY SPLCIALARKAKOANT WITH TI1I CHAPTER L It was the day after Tom Murray's re - 'ton. He sat alone in his top floor dormitory it a table ranged with old letters, dusty books, cravats, gloves, a few faded bon- tonnieres, theater programmes and dog 1 eared manuscripts roll upon roll. A small trunk, half filled, stood on the floor be- side him and received his wearing appa- Xe1 and books as he pitched them in in- discruninately. • Tom was not tidy. Cleanliness of per- , son and a certain homage to fashion were matters of religion with him, but he could not live in an orderly room to save his life. This alone might have betrayed his. Celtic origin had it not markedly shown itself in appearance and tempera- ment. The thick hair growing closely over his forehead was black as astrakhan and as waved. There was a striking unfitness between hiamoody blue eyes and swarthy Odin Dreamy, yet remarkably compre- hensive in some moments, were those eyes , of his and at other times almost opaque. Something said or done could make the pupils expand, a little door seem to open, , emitting a brilliant, blue flash, then dis- creetly close and the shadow fall again. His mouth was like a brave woman's, full and finely carved, and his merry smile showed teeth as white as a negro's. .A. stalwart, youthful figure, square shoul- ders that swaggered as he walked, easy strides that carried him untiringly for long distances, told of a wonderful re- serve of strength. Ho was the Irishman of blilesian antecedents without a touch of tho pale Saxon to blur the type. Al- though American born, there was proba- bly his double among tho strapping young fishermen throwing their nets off the coast of Galway. A warning sun ray shot across his eye- lids and flashed beyond him like a needle of gold, piercing the dusty dimness of the room, before he turned the key in the trunk. "It's getting late. There's not a min- ute to spare." And pulling out his watch he gave a kick to the chair beside him 'v:here he had flung the long sleeved al- paca'gsewn and Oxford cap worn by the theoloal students in Chelsea square. There 1a ethe whole story of his re- volt. He had thrown them off. Not for an hour;'nor for a night, to find them awaiting him in the morning, but forever.. Until yesterday he bad imolai these things as the insignia of a holy calling. They were no more to him now than is a scepter to the king who has abdicated. r "Poor old dad! He did want to see me in the pulpit. Tho picture I had en in these togs—how he loved it! iWell, it's all over for mo. Goodby has been said to every one. It's all over for Him too. I couldn't pain him so if he were living." it Ho started up and took a turn around the room. his eyes softening with feel- 4igg. I wonder if he knows I've cut it all- 4ptirplice and psalter, fasting and pray - ..ng. I wonder if he cares—now!" And Tom thought of a newmade grave in a ,eweatern state. "Perhaps ho knows better than I could have told him in life," and he felt his eart swelling, "that I wanted to please lm, but I couldn't—couldn't do it—be- use of the something within me that gged and protested and pleaded. Per- ps he knows." The depression was short lived. lighter closely follows sighing when o is only 20, clean of heart and con - nee and blessed—or cursed maybe— 'th the mercurial temperament, the y irresponsibility that in a crisis of e slips so easily into a plausible kind ,bf selfishness. . Tom gave a vigorous shake of his long and commenced brushing his hair if his life depended on getting out its bbatinate wave, whistling as he worked. •4:a be sure, ho had very little of his fa- '0 email patrimony left, and a very future stretched before him, but world was brighter today than it had in years. He need do violence to intklinations no more. It was all end- 1 •wr--all that life whose demands his had resisted, under which his rebel - heart had strained. How he had the monotony of it! He a preach - he so loved the world and the thereof! What a mistake it had the two years spent in the old Elden fu a green, far western cif T'tt'entieth 2treet ho had formed friendships. He was that matvelous, stag teeing, a college man without a The interests of his companions +ieseetattlesselerieal. His thoughts beta elsewhere, his burning desire upon suooess, but by a path far from the hush and the oiittrob. thee were some things, of the which the artist eft him tivoulil miss. Tho flow of music in the little chapel—how often he had likened the quivering intensity of those rich or. gan notes to the throbbing of bis own unsatisfied heart- -the altar spnrklin ;like an opal under the candle light on Flints' days; the twilight that met ono softly in the sechnled paths while the chimes rose in happier peals as the darknes deep- ened. Yes, the memory of these would remain with him forever. At 5 o'clock lie turned into Broadway. The stream of late afternoon loungers thronged that raceway of fashion. He braced himself and l;.oked around with eager, observant eyee. for to him who knows the tov; n and .oyes it it unfolds a tale of never failing, never ending charm. Tom felt a kinship to crowds and the swing of the surging life. The perfume from a bank of roses on the street corner came to him with the thrill of an inspiration. A beautiful woman' sidelong glance gave warmth to his im- agination. He was really beginning vs live. He was free. When at length he came to an abrupt pause, ho stood before a stage door. It was half hidden down a small alley, and half filled with the scenery a wagon was unloading on the curb. Ho picked his way through the debris, stooped his broad shoulders to enter the small door and found himself the center of a quar- tet of grimy eyed workmen. The close buttoned individual who guarded the entrance was seated in the farther shadow against a daub represent- ing a cottage interior. He screwed up one dusty eye before answering Tom's question, and his voice was suggestive of cobwebs: "Tho manager? Is it Mr. Plunket? I d'no. Guess he ain't in." "Ho wrote me to come today at 5." "Did?" For a moment he sat in puzzled rumi- nation, his ferretlike glance upon the stage entrance completely blocked. He shook his head helplessly and then jerked a dirty thumb over his shoulder, indicat- ing a narrow iron stairway at the left. Exhausted by the demand upon his en- durance. he disappeared an inch or two in his coat collar. Tom was in no mood to cavil. He fol- lowed the direction of the dirty thumb, cleared the steps in two bounds and found himself in the back of the audito- rium. For the first time he stood in an empty theater in the daylight. How ghostly, solemn, crude, it was! To a nature like his, so sensitive to impressions, there was something appalling about it. He felt his enthusiasm ooze slowly, the hope that had so buoyantly sustainedhim fall sud- denly, as if a magic cord had been snapped. The curtain was raised on a disordered scene; a pillar of papier mache lay prone across the stage beside a piano swathed in muslin; far up in the gallery the fig- ure of a charwoman was dill and uncan- ny, her crooning sweeping across the emptiness; a bar of sunlight fell aslant the shadow and drank up the swirling dust. It was a beautiful body from which the soul had fled. How could he hope that some day each of these folded seats would contain a liv- ing, thinking being who would listen with interest, perhaps delight, to words of his spoken on tho stage. but coined in a quiet room far away from the crowd? For this was Tom's dream—to be a writer of plays that the world he loved would applaud, to be a factor in the life of the theaters around which for so long he had secretly circled like a restless moth. He tried to throw off the sickening doubt, walked down the aisle, and open- ing a door at the back of a proscenium box found himself behind the scenes. Gaslight and hurry were here. Scene shifters moved about dragging bulky pieces of scenery, swearing at each other in hoarse whispers. At a desk'under a flaring gee jet screened by wire a large man sat toying with his watch chain while he leisurely dictated a letter to a stenographer. A foe men, whose blue shaven lips proclaimed their calling, ob- sequiously awaited his pleasure. Tom joined this group. A little crease grew between his brows as he fixed his eyes imploringly on the potentate who held his happiness in his hand. But he had little misgiving as to the final answer. Surely his play was ac- • cepted else it would have been returned with an abrupt line of refusal or a chill- ing silence, as many others had been. . And yet—and yet—he must not hope. or the blots, if it Caine, would fall too heav- ily. Alterations might be requested or its appearance postponed for a year, or this man :night bo overcrowded and had sent for him merely to tell him of a bet- ter market for it. A pronounced and positive sweets was too sweet a dream. These coiifaer3 and burning surmises all melted into a breathless anxiety as he found hipiaelj* facing the manager, who lounged with fat, good Kunio -red Importance, waiting for him to speak, "I sent you a play a few weeks ago. Yon wrote me to come in today," "Yes, to be sure," brightly. "You're Mr. Dupont. Take a chair," "No, my name's Murray, and the play was a 'A Family Failing,' " Mr. Plunket permitted one of his 'red eyebrows to move slowly toward his chair, "I wrote you to come?" Then he paused, ,pursed up his lips, flopped his watch chain. "You're mistaken, ain't you?"' A chill crept over Tom and moved under the roots of his hair. Had he been mistaken? Had there been a mistake? "I didn't bring the letter with me. But you aslesd me to call today at 5 rel- ative to my play." Without changing his position Mr. Plunket held out ono fat white hand where a huge cat's eye winked and glinted. "Hand me that paper, Romney. 'A Family Failing?' Now, let's see," and the point of his brightly polished nail glanced down a list. "Ah, yes, of course. It's been declined. Didn't you get it back?" "No," was all Toni could say. "Romney, look in that upper drawer. You made a mistake in writing Mr.—er —Mr. Murray a letter. You're getting so deuced careless I believe you're in love, upon my soul." Romney colored and stuck his pen be. hind his ear, "Yes, sir, I guess I did. I meant to send it to Mr. Dupont about 'His Aunt's Legacy.' Hero's the gentleman's play, sir." Oh, that unknown man named Dupont —how Toni envied and hated him in that moment! He took the manuscript like ono only half awake. He heard Mr. Blunket murmur an apology and briskly Wish himgood afternoon. Still he linger- ed, looking down at the roll of paper. "Do you think I could get it accepted anywhere? Or could I improve it?" he asked, and something in his face moved the manager to a little pity and patience. "I looked through it. The first scene told me it wouldn't do. You want the truth, and I'll give it to you—sentiment bo hanged! It's fairly good as far as style goes. You might turn it into a novel. But wo want more than style on the stage. We want action—we want life," and warming to his subject Mr. Plunket threw one ponderous leg over the arm of his chair. "We want situa- tions—quiet, but so subtly'and intense- ly weighted with interest that a crowded house holds its breath to see them de- velop. if you can't do that—and it's very evident you can't—write a realistic drama. I couldn't use it, of course, but you'll find a manager who'll take it off your bands fast enough. "Stun your audience with daring leaps into real running water, so that the lead- ing man comes before the curtain in- cased in rubber. diffusing a dampness that makes the orchestra leader sneeze, or thrill thein with chine explosions, or real engines, or bridges that move. There's money in work of this sort on the Bowery. Talk about the injustice of managers to native talent! Bosh, all of it. Are we fools? I'd give almost any amount today for a society drama writ- ten by an American dealing in masterly style with some of our pertinent social questions and holding a true, sympathet- ic love interest. Or give me a startling psychological study with plenty of fire, give me a comedy that with a laugh tears off the mask of society, give me a play delicate as a miniature, or give me one painted in bold splashes and those splashes like blood, and I'll find a place for each of them sooner or later. I can get precious few of them from Ameri- cans, I can tell you. It would be better if nine -tenths of our aspiring dramatists threw their pens in the river, went home and settled down to a quiet existence mending shoes. To be frank—I say it,, my dear follow, for your own good -for stuff such as you have there, prettily phrased, but tame as a flannel rabbit, I have no use." "Do ns you assns 1 coatld Pct it aceepted anywhere? As Tom passed again throughthe emp- ty theater the sense of shock departed. A live ache leaped within him. He walked on, not heeding or caring where his steps led him. His throat was dry, a burning sob far down in it that the tnan in him beat back. He had been a fool, then? An egotistical dreamer? Oh, the languor of helplessness, the ' taunting pain of overthrow and loss, the repugnance to the necessary effort of re- djustng his conception of himself and f his l e! Those who have knower this foeling have tasted for one tnotnent the kernel of despair. "How can 1 tell Virginia?' was bis weary thought. CHAPTER II. A square room of goodly size, the broad windows. opening on a low belcouyand beyond the shining panes Chelsea square. It was largo enough to meet lho re- quirements of diningi q and sitting room, m, the high walls bearing the faded floral decoration of au earlier period. The stained floor from which the pelish had long departed once knew the swish of flounced petticoats, tea had undoubtedly been sipped on the rusty balcony, the un- used carriage stop at the curb had known the pressure of aristoeratio tons, But this was in the long ago, when tho house was a private mansion, before the city had crawled upward to encroach on its suburban retirement, very long be- fore any one dreamed that the iconoclas- tic finger of modest respectability, first cousin to peverty, would one day steal the luster from its gilding, the color from its bricks and convert the strings of am- ple rooms into floors for separate feel - lies. The glare from the west turned the vino pattern on the cotton curtains into copper. Against them a girl leaned, glo- rified by the waning splendor. Her arms were folded restfully on her breast. Her gaze was fastened on the gray college buildings opposite and the green close which gave such an old world touch to the street, A deep sparkle rested in her eyes. Sho was impatient and sometimes threw a glance down the tree lined pave- ment, where the lights in the street lamps were beginning to tremble in a network of leaves. Two students, arm in arm, eluttered past in their quaint gowns and looked up at her window. They were talking of Tom. She knew it. They were say- ing unkind things of hien. Perhaps they were sneering at what they called his folly, his audacious worldliness. Virginia threw back her head, and a confident smile lifted her gleaming lip. How they would•retraet it all some day! For Tom was not like them. His was an untamable spirit, only maddened by rig- orous confines. He had chosen to live with them for the future. How his young face and light step would brighten up the place! It was sometimes so lonely and quiet with only her father. A vision of win- ter nights around a ruddy flee, of deli- cious, slow waning summer evenings on tho balcony, rose before her mind. 'They would be happy, she knew. A few feet from the table set for din- ner a quaint, yellow keyed melodeon stood, and hero Virginia impulsively seated herself. Her fingers flickered over the keys, the music filled the room, the fainting light swam in her raised eyes and rosied her lifted chin. There was a subtle fire, a winning soft- ness, in the face. The hazel green eyes glanced with intense life; a mysterious smile clung to the lips so proudly cut. Her brown hair, holding the gleaming russet tone seen in somo dying„ leaves, was drawn up to the crown, where a fluffy knot gave a chic, stately touch to her small head. In cliarining consonance with this warm brunette coloring her skin was a pale, transparent olive. Sho was tall, her figure youthful, independ- ent, her personality breathing a magnetic strength. And as she played there, translating the triumphant beauty of her dreams in- to harmony—dreams that `tvidened her narrow life and fec1; ller;,5oul—Tom en- tered unheard. The sonorous chorus found no echo in his heart. Pale beyond words, he stood quite still until Virginia turned to him. Thero was no need for speech. She, who knew his every expression, read the truth in his face. It was pinched with the pathetic revolt of the unsuccessful. She was beside him in a second. "I've been waiting for you, Tom." Oh, to press her cheek in a vehement caress against his arm—ho looked so worn, so desperate! Oh, to whisper that his pain was hers, for she loved him, loved him! But instead she could only stand mutely there. her very heart melt- ing within her. "I have failed," ho broke forth in a passionate, trembling whisper. "I am mad, Virginia. I could tear myself to pieces." Ho walked to the window and for a moment hid his face on his arm. But sho did not stir save to lean her open palms upon the table, as if bracing her- self to speak to him when the first strength of his stormy despair had died. "Look," he muttered wildly, tearing the soiled manuscript • from an inner pocket, "here it is, pressing like a stone against my heart. When I went into the theater, Virginia, I felt almost as if I had conquered.' When I came out, I 'walked the streets blind. I was con- scious of nothing but an awful ache and coldness." A shade born of intense feeling passed over Virginia's face. Dare she utter the truth that burned her? It might seem cruel to him now, but in the end it would bo merciful. Sho moved so that the last bars of day- light foil upon her face. Her eyes mot his. "And do you despair so easily?" she asked clearly. "You aro holding out your hands to Paine, and because she does not push her treasures into your blind grasp for your first asking you rail at her coldness, Success is worth more than that, Tom, or it's worth nothing," "For my first asking?" he stammered hotly. "Is this my first play?' "}3ut in writing the others you only served an attnrenticethin. They were (To na mammon) Had Ham There, A, atupid•loolting countryman halted be- fore a blacksmith's shop, the proprietor of which was, forging a shoe, and eyed the performanco with nruoh interest. The brawny smith dissatisfied with the mast's cuxiosity, hold the red hot iron sud- denly under hip nose, hoping to make hint beat a hasty retreat. If you give me a sixpence I will liok it, said the countryman. I will stop the braggart's jaw, thought the smith, as he took from his' pocket a sixpence, and held it out. The countryman quickly grabbed the coin, licked it, and walked away. whistling, "Did you ever coacha-weasel asleep?" Right in His Lino. Tho Police Court reporter, who had been palled upon in the absence of the regular society reporter to go to a wedding and describe it to the best of his ability, had just returned, and was struggling with his notes pertaining to the bride's toilet. "She was attired," he wrote, "in a dress that ltacl a business running in a gorgeous loop down iu front, then up round the waist, over the shoulders and had big wrinkled sleeves made of cloth that looked like as if it had been gourged out of some rich material of abright cream color, dappled with iron grey." "Is that the way you are gcing to do it up?" inquired the sporting editor, looking over his shoulder at the manuscript. "Why not ?" fiercely retorted the Police C.)urt reporter. "I'm doing this on space rates Why the Dude Was Mad. When the stove pipe season lies passed, and the bruises and abrasions of football are forgotten, when the mother-in-law joke is so well worn that its further use has boon tabooed, then does mankind turn to the dude for amusement; for the dude is a large tangibility, and he has his uses. Amusing the gamin is one. Good News says that he was walking along the etreote and met a little boy who asked him the time. Ten minutes to nine, says the dude. Well, says the boy, at nine o'clock gel your hair cut, and he took to his heels and ran, the dude after him, when turning a corner, the dude came in contact with a policeman, nearly knocking him down. What's up? said the policeman. Tho dude, very much oat of breath, said : You see that young urchin running along there? He asked me the time. I told hint ten minutes to nine, and he said, at nine o'nloak got your hair cut. Well, says the policeman, what are you running for? You've eight minutes more yet. Odd Moments. Said a discouraged woman. If you ever had tried to work by snatches, you would know how hard it is to get .any thing done that way.. I've had to do a great deal of work and study just that way—by :notches, re- atponded the other quickly. I had to learn to systematize my odds and ends of time. iso I know it can be done. These odd minutes, which we all lose in .bur days, count up amazingly. Fifteen 1minui tes multiplied by four makes an hour. And so many times a clay we let slip fifteen (yminutes Fifteen minutes waiting for the lazy !ones to come down to breakfast ! Fifteen 1for rho unpunctual ones to go for a walk i or drive ! Fifteen minutes waiting for the luncheon or dinner bell to ring! Fifteen minutes waiting the dressmaker's pleasure, for the child to come back from an errand, or for the restless baby to go to sleep 1 Not to speak of the half -Hours and hours spent in trains and boats. When at night the busy woman counts up bar used and wasted opportunities, she thinks clesparingly, If I only had those odd minutes in one rump at one time, how much I could accomplish which now seems unattainable I But something can be done with these odd minutes which are so exasperating and unproductive to the diligent one. ;This is undisputable, because here are those who have used just such minutes, to advantage. Many true examples rise up to confirm the statement. A woman who was obliged to wait break- fast for a dozen boarders to straggle down, in her waiting moments manufactured yards of dainty lace, which she found a profitable way of employing the time. Another young woman, who daily waited a quarter of an hour for an elderly friend to go driving, kept a book on the tall table, and in the waiting times of one summer managed to do a creditable amount of historic's). reading. Another kept a novel `going' in each room in the house, end whenever she waited for dinner man- aged to read a few chapters in whichever book was handiest. The only reading moments of a busy woman was the time sho spent every day putting her baby to sleep, and her book was kept in readiness for the operation. It is told of one industrious young girl that she constantly croolieted or knitted during the minutes her drawing teacher was explaining perspective or sharpening her pencil: But aria dons seem carrying minute -saving very far.---Harper'rs Bazsr, How Ile Gat Through Vroo, A droll old Scotch farmer rode up to a toll•ber, end finding the gate open, ho wheeled ground about just as lie passed. rt tltxou h and shouted for the toll•keo Drat .,, p r who was invisible. "Hey, I'm sayia' fat's the damego tee git through yer gate wi' a horse?" "A shillen'," shouted the tollkoeper, making bis appearance. "A shillin'?" echoed the farmer, sarcas- tically. "No shillen' d'yo got free mo. I'll awe' Lame again ;" and wheeling his horse around the second time, he rode off' in the direction lis wished to go, obuckling. at the trick he had performed upon the toll - keeper. Concrete Meanness. A prospe-oue tuerehant said to the writer, "It costs iva over $4,000 a year to support my family,',' (He has t'vo children and they are not wholly dependent upon him.) "I have -- thousands 111 toy business" (is was a. fortune). "I have laid up outside --- thousands, and it is tint: 1 should be enjoying myself." 1 remarked : "And I aro your pastor, and I have saved nothing these three years. 1 have• asked tin increase of salary, and you. have been the one to clamour against it the loudest." Well, mild lie, "when a preacher gets a congregation that will raise tris salary ho will raise his. style of living, at.d when he gets to doing that nobody Iwo ,vs where he will end or what he will want. The Wilson Bill Passed. After a brisk debate the llouso of Representatives at Wttehiu'gton have p.rssed the Wilson '!'arid' Intl. The changes a fleeting Csin da are as fol- lows : Barley and Earley Malt—bleKinley law 25 to 450, Wilsnu hill proposed 20 per cent., equal to 12 cuts ; amended ill cnulw"lt.•e 30 cents per bushels ; passed by house 3I p. c. ad volsrem. Oats and. Oatmeal—McKinley law lc to 25e. Wilson Bill proposed', 20 per cent ; amended iu coulutittee tree. Eggs—McKinley law 50 per dozen Wilson bill free. Fish—iifoKinlriy !nw c, Wilson bill Poultry, Live—\I;Kinley law 3e, Wilson bill 2c. Poultry, Dressed--NIulialley law Pic. Wilson i,th 3c. A11 live Animals—McKinley law 20 per cent. Wilson bill 20 per cent. Wool—McKinley law varied accord• ing to grade, Wilson W,I free, Logs—McKinley law free, Wilson bill free. Timber --Hews and sawn, squared or sided, sawed boards, laths, shingles; McKinley law $1 per 1000. Wilson hill free. Coal—McKinley low 00 I:ents per ton, Wilson Bill proposed flee. Iron Ore—McKinley law free, Wil- son hill proposed free. Plows, teeth and disk barrows, har- vesters, reapers, drills, mowers, horse. rakes, cultivators and threshing mach- ines—McKinley law 45 p. c., \Nilson hill proposed free, is Mr. neo. W. Cook Of St. Johnsbury, Vt. Like a Waterfall Great Suffering After the Grip . Tremendous Roaring in the Read. —Pain in the Stomach. "To C. I. Hood & Co., Lowell, Mass.: "Two years ago I had a severe attaek of the Grip, which left mo in a terribly weak and de- bilitated condition. Last winter I had another attack and was again very badly of?, my health nearly wrecked. My appetite was all gone, I had no strength, felt tired nil the time, had disagreeable roaring noises In my beta, like a waterfall. I also had severe headaches and Severe Sinking Pains in my stomach. I took medicines without ben- efit, until having heard so mush about hood's Sarsaparilla, I concluded to try it, end the re- sult is very gratifying. All the •dlyagreable effeetS of tiro Grip aro gone, I arse frog from) pains and aches, and believe Hood's Sarsaparilla is surely euring mYY catarrh. 1 reeorninend it to all." Gxo. W. 000x, lit, Johnsbury, vt. ROOD'S MIA cure Nausea, Sisk Headache, Indlgwttozm, nllioupaess. 8dtd syall driteta. Qa A BO71S I OTHBR.. My mother she's so good to me, f wasgood s F+ a I could c 1 be, I couldn't bo as good—no sir— Can't any boy be good as her! She loves me when I'm glad or sad; She loves me when I'1 good er bad; .An' what's a Puniest thing she says She loves toe when she punishes.. I don't like her to punish me— That don't hurt—but it hurts to see Her oryin--then I pry; and then We both Dry and be good again. She loves me when she cuts and sews My little cloak and Sunday olothee; An' when my pa comes home to tea She loves hien most as much as me. She laughs and tells him all I ilaid, Au' grabs me up and pats my head, An' I hug her an' hug my pa An' love him purt 'nigh as much as ma. Lion -Taming. There are tamers and trainers. A tamer is simply a luau of unlimited .nerve. A trainer has nerve and judg- ment. My friend tells me that a 'trainer can teach a lion about as many tricks as can be taught a dog. Some. times the lion himself will unconsctous- ly suggest a new trick. "1 had to train four lions to jump a gate. One of them was so stubborn that 1 deter- mined to leave him to the last. When . .I carne to him he was lying in a corner. I began striking him. He eprank up and came toward tae. He had a wicked look, so I hit him a sharp blow from below on the end of the nose with my cane, the only weapon I ever" take into the den. The blow stung him so it turned him around, and, as if to escape another, be jumped up to the bars and remained standing with bis fore feet upon one of them. lie gave me a look which said plenty, I'll stop here if you don't do it again. He looked superb standing there drawn up to his full heigut. So I sat down on the gate, lit a cigarette, and kept him in the position till I had finished It trained the other lions in the net, and a fine appearance the four made standing agarnet the bars. "Auother friend of mine was in the audience when a lioness killed a trainer at the 1 axis hippodrome, She had been trained to approach him from behind, rise on her hind legs and place her front paw upon his shoulders. Sha did so this time, Then quietly thrust- ing her head over his shoulder, she seized him by the throat and literally tossed hien over her back, the other liens in the den fell upon him, and though he was rescued from the den, he died within an hour." I asked the trainer why he never armed himself with more than a cane. Tamers rarely did, he said. There was no use. A lion's attack was like a thunderbolt. One bite, one blow with the claw was deadly. The men stationed outside with carbines and red.hot irons are there only to drive the lion off the hody of his victim, so that he can be got out of the den alive, and the spectators saved the horror of seeing him devoured.—From Harper's Young People, Totally Eclipsed. A CASE 110HE WONDERFUL THAN DE. nose's—A LADY DYING OF BRIGHT& DISEASES Is CURED by DODD'S KIDNEY PILLS.' Portlaud, Feb. 12.—The people of this neighborhood have not yet finished talking of the remarkable cure of diabetes effect, edby.Dodd's Kiduey Pills to the ease of Dr. L. A.Rose, of this village. The Doctor is authority for the statement that hie case is totally eclipsed by that of a lady, a pat- ientot his, whom Bright's disear+e had broughtto the verge of the grave. He pre- scribed Dodd's Kidney Pills for her, mud, thanks to them she is now cured. These pills are manufactured by Dr. L. A. Smith & Co.,and are sold by all dealers, or will be mailed ou receipt of price; fifty cents e per box,or six boxes for $2.50. 11 Ip Some Buamnesrl Advioe.• s What a lifd sapper bnainess, is to marry. What perturbation of mind! What struggling and scratching, and shifting, and lying, cheating and haggling, are practiced every day by the tnany in the struggle to make money 1 What constant comparison is being made between the successful and the uusuecessful 1 Of the thous.. ands tt'ho embark in business how few succeed 1 And why ? Because says d Grocer's Bulletin but few know any of the secrets of success, or knowing i them do them. Many try some sup posed short cut to wealth,o and step' into quicksand at once. Most think f success a matter of chance or good r for; use every hour atmly to snake even f l I nk twice 1. Int; a shilling, remelt another ur,H for it, 1 spend as fast as you ' only hope for a Cream I look after your hu�ia spirit of light heiirte cioualy, sell fairly, at to profits ; look aft, and regularly,if you it out, and keep grit; Should a stroke of upon you, retrench, never fly the•track. ties with ,pn,iliueh and;gclod lltlmor, at pear like fog before Obstinate CI GtrNTLBumN--I had wkieh I could not get Hagyards Peotorial 13. in two or three days sough medicine I kno JOSEPH GAnm A Correspon • (From lIarper's Here is a good t girls. It relates scheme devised b ladies at school a fc of them an English it '!'Isere were nin and we were all pr each other contint hearts we lcnew the dense could never i one of the girls sue letter, and the ideu At the expirattoi the time we parted a letter, telling ' w doing and eterytl which would be li others This lett second girl, who al her own letter, at the third. The third, foultl rest in turn adde, the ninth on the the drat. Then plete, and we h lettere fairly unde Now, of course, contains nine let when it cames to own letter writes what she has bee time, and starts it You can have a lug it is to receive anxiously we all when our turn co it up for nearly t time the letters c sure of reading w to say seems to it The 1 The pine forests virtues for the cure brouchitis and sor, preporation known Pine Syrup. 25 a, Honor the I Time has scats on.lrer brow, pie her cheek—but T beautiful now kissed many a ish cheek are th, world. The eye is dir the rapt radianc can never fade. Oh, yes, she i Her sends out, but feeble further and rem than any other You cannot where she canu nter a• prison ler out ; you caffold too hig he may kine al In this evid love, when the forsake you—v the wayside to old mother wil feeble arms, co you of all your forget that yot vices. Love her to eclining year, The Bugle Cal Rev. T. W. writes : After air trial, I an emedy for I within my res t is chime fortune ; hut aftor a short business life have a sad awakening to their mistake. If men would stop pining for wealth and clear their minds sufficiently to absorb the following advice, and would be guided by it, there would be little doubt of thei+' realizing their hopes. Let the l.tlatness of everybody else alone, and attend earnestly to your own. ;. don't hnv what you don't need, or feel certain you can create a demand have much pl it as the n Free Sample any address, New Glaacow Boston, Mas Sour tem) 118'