HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1890-8-21, Page 6Summering on a Form,
I'm living in the country now upon a quint
farm,
Where I am free from pity noise and safe from
urban lament
At 'stead of horrid cantaloupes and early eum-
Liter meats,
1 feed upon the cold, crimp squash and blood -red
winter beets.
I have. a room with slanting roof; no wearisome.
design
Is:there upon the wall to greet these tired eyes
of mine;
But limiest, coarse, scud -,paper walls are those
about my head.
'Fon whioh I rub that fevered spot where me-
quitoes have fed.
No narrow bath -tub have I here tp lave myself
within,
But ono large basin on the floor, a dipper made
of tin.
Oh, how the cooling waters plash and o'er my
shoulders flow,
Despite their leaking through the floor, assuag-
ing all my woe.
• And, as I've said, no city noise doth break upon
the ear--
Naught
ar—Naught save the cooing of the frogs, the bloat of
ohautieleer,
The crowing of the Durham cow, the lowing of
the hen;
These are the sole disturbances in this my rural
den.
And oh, the habits of life, this country life
inspires!
The breakfast set at 9 a, m.—ah 1 how my soul
admires
To rise at 4, and ore the sun has started on its
way,
To don my duds and enter upon the duties of the
day 1
Instead of working at my desk in hot seersucker
coat,
To seek the fields and toss the hay, to feed the
bounding goat,
To dine three times a day on pie, washed down
by berry wine,
And when the sun has set at last retiring at 9,
This is a noble life to load ; from care and strife
so free ;
It tans the cheek, the muscles gain, it fills the
soul with glee.
But when next summer comes this way, I fear I
can't afford
To swap the sweat of brow and brawn for rural
bed and board,
—Henry Herbert Harkness, in Harper's Bazar.
ADOPTED BY THE DEAN
A STORY 01 TWO t)OUNTSIP9
As anon es ebe door had closed, Bertha
turned again to the window.
"I am sure she suspected something,"
she whispered. " Oh, George, we must
not risk it ; Esperanoe is so sharp, and she
will pat them on the clew directly ! "
"lf there is any chance of that, yon
must find some means of getting her out of
the way. Could you not get grannie to
invit her ? "
Gorge spoke in Iow, authoritative tones ;
Bei tee's brief terrified whispers were
evidently in subjection. She had always
bowed implicitly to his judgement.
" Stay, I have an idea," he said, after a
sileuoe, and then ensued a long whispered
dialogue. Bertha agreeing in half hesitat.
ing tones to ail the propositions. The
chimes struck again—they counted the
notes breathlessly. It was a quarter to
ten ; George hurriedly took leave, and
Bertha closed the window, tremblingly put
away her writing materials, and returned
to the drawing -room. But her heart
Budd, my failed her when she saw the others
sitting so naturally at their work, and she
felt a deep pang of remorse as she glanced
at her father sleeping peacefully in his arm-
chair, quite unconscious what was in store
for hen. Should she write to George and
say chat she could not keep her promise—
that while her father lived she must stay
with him ? But jaet then Mrs. Mortlake
looked up with her disagreeable smile.
"Rally, you've had a nice sociable even-
ing, j fat after your own heart."
Bertha shrugged her shoulders—she had
cau ha the triok from Esperanoe—and re -
mem eered that after all, home was by no
meals the peaceful haven it looked, and
besides, would they really miss her ? For
a ween or two, perhaps, bat no more.
"I am going to bed," she said, in her
listed voice, to Mrs. Mortlake, "I have a
bad headache."
Esperanoe looked up compassionately.
" 1 em so sorry 1 I wish I had helped you
with that writing."
None else spoke ; and Bertha, coloring
deeply, left the room. How she longed that
evening to be alone ! Much es she loved
Eeperance, she felt that her presence now
would be almost unbearable. She
hurriedly made her preparations for the
night, and lay down in the darkness thank-
ful for a few moments of quiet, in which
she might think over the extraordinary
and most unexpected events of the day.
She sobbed a little as she thought of this,
partly from an odd sort of attachment to the
aotnel house, !hardly to be called love, but
a great deal more from terror and the
sense that she was abort to what all the
world would blame.
While she was still crying, Esperanoe
came no to bed, shading the candle with
her hand, and moving about the room with
noiseless steps for fear she would disturb
her cousin. Bertha watched her in silence
for eome minutes, but she could hardly
bear to Iook at the pure, child -like face, it
made her feel so guilty ; at length a great
sob escaped her, and Esperanee hastened
to comfort her.
"'Is your head so bad, diode ? Let me
stroke it for you."
Bertha allowed herself to be caressed for
a minute, then with with an irrepressible
burst of tears she sobbed out, " Oh, Esper-
anoe, if the others had been like yon, it
would have been very different."
" What would have been different ? "
asked Eeperance, unable to nnderetand her
words.
"Everything — life 1" sobbed Bertha,
frightened to think how nearly she had
betrayed herself.
Bat Eeperance never dreamed of ens.
peoting her ; she thought her merely
unhappy and overtired, and said she
would sing her to sleep • and Bertha lay
still, listening to an old French hymn, and
let her eyelids fall toward the end, but in
reality she never slept at all that night.
The next day, however, she was quite
self-possessed ; it was one of those sodden
trot spring Jaye when every one feels
languid, She eaaily persuaded Eeperance
to stay indoors, and they read together a
greater part of the afternoon. At dinner -
elute a note arrived for Bertha ; her color
Dame and went, but no one observed her.
She opened and said it wee from Mre.
Easemore.
"No one has been to see grannie for the
last week," observed Cornelia. " What
does she want, Bertha 2"
"She wants me to go down with Ever -
Snot to spend the evening with her ; ebo
says she is feeling very lonely and de -
premed ;
e -pressed; it we could My the night ao
muoh the better; ahs has heard that the
oarriage is being painted, and we might not
Dare tb' walk both ways, 'What do yon
Think, Esperance ?"- • • ,,
"1 should like to go very tench," maid
Repent/me, brightly," we have not been out
all day, and ill would be so nice and cool
now:"
" We will go down after dinner then,"
!laid Bertha, quietly ; "I' -don't know *boat
Maytag for the night thongh ; we will see
iiow grannie ie when we get there. If we
do not .domebaok by half past ten,
Ohr1 ttabr1, yon' will nnderetand that
grannie was very preening, and that we
stayed.
Tiertha's ()beaks were burnipg now, but no
one notsoed her. Everybody wag hot that
evening—there was nothing unnatural in
it.
The curfew had just ceased rinsing when
the two cousins started. Bertha took her
cloak and a small bag, j net in oase they
should etay for the night, she said. They
paesed silently through the Vicar's court,
then Bertha paused.
"I am just going into the oathedral for a
moment," she said ; " I lefe my umbrella
in the aisle at the eftsrnoonservice—some•
body may parry it off if it is left."
" But the great doors will be looked,"
said Esperanoe.
" Res, bat I have both the keys. We will
come in here and go out by the west door—
it will oat off a corner."
She quietly openedthemassivo door, and
looked it behind them. The light within
was already growing dim owing to. the
stained-glass windows ; they looked about
for the umbrella, walking slowly down the
aisle to the closed gate whioh led into the
nave, buit was not to be found. Bertha
looked tee gate.
"I feet afraid we must give it up," she.
said, it strained, unn.,t ural voioe ; " the
only plane we did not look in was the
vestry ; it is just passible one of the
vergers may have put it there; just run and
see, will you ? "
Esperanoe obeyed, walking halt -way up
the aisle, trying the vestry door, but it was
feat looked ; then she turned baok to rejoin
her cousin, quiokening her steps as she saw
that she had gone into the nave. The iron
gate was closed ; she supposed Bertha had
left it on the latch ; the gate would not
yield. Was Bertha playing her a trick,
she wondered. She called after her, feeling
half amused, half frightened ; her voioe
echoed long through the vaulted roof, but
there was no reply, only she could hear that
Bertha walked more quickly, and the -next
moment the great west door closed behind
her, the key grated in the look, and Esper-
anoe was left alone in the cathedral.
For an instant she stood half petrified
with astonishment, then glancing round
she saw that Bertha had thrown down her
cloak within the choir aisle, and beside it a
little three -cornered note ; she opened thia
eagerly, and read the few lines, whioh had.
evidently been written with a trembling
hand:
' Forgive me, dear Esperanoe ; I would
not have left yon in this way, but.I feared
you suspected me last night, and we could
not bear really to implicate grannie ; the
blame of this will fall on no ono but our-
selves. We 'shall travel all tonight ; to.
morrow, by the time you are released, I
think we shall be married. Once more,
forgive me, and love me still, if you can.
Beers:A."
The note fell from Esperanoe's hands,
and a great cry of despair rang through the
cathedral. Bertha had eloped with George,
and she, the only person who knew of it,
was perfectly helpless 1 The horror of that
moment, the dismay of that discovery
altogether unnerved her. She turned
giddy, and sunk down on the cold stones,
her hand pressed against her temples as it
to stay the fearful thoughts which flashed
through her brain. The oathedral was
looked np for the night ; the vergers had
been their rounds ; no one would go up to
the belfry even, for the curfew had been
rung. At the deanery no one would dream
that anything was amiss ; they were at
this very moment going on with their renal
routine—the dean perhaps in his observe -
tory, Cornelia and Christabel quietly read-
ing and working, all within five minutes'
walk of her, and yet it was as impossible to
let them know those terrible tidings, as if
they had been at the North Pole. And
when the dean did know, would it not almost
break his heart 1 It must, it must be pre.
vented I Again she read through the note
of explanation, and dwelt one more on the
words, " we shall travel all night." They
would probably start by the 8 30 express,
and already it must be nearly time for it—
even as she thought of it the chimes struck
the half hour, and the dietant shriek of a
railway whistle made itself heard. Again
that wail of anguish broke from Esperanoe,
and reverberated through the inset empti-
ness of the cathedral ; she sprung to her
feet, and & sort of madnees seemed to seize
her ; she pulled and shook the iron gate as
if she would have torn it from jets hinges,
then remembering that this would only
lead to the neve, and more looked doors,
she rushed to the eastern end of the aisle
and knocked and hammered with all her
Weight at the south door. Bat the door
was far from a thoroughfare, and no one
was likely to hear her. Onoe the caught
the sound of footsteps passing on the path-
way a few hundred yards from her, and
knew that it meet be the policeman on his
rounds, and she called and knocked with
the strength of despair, but the echoes only.
mocked her voice ; the ponderous door
seemed to let no sound penetrate it, and the
-footsteps died away in the distance—it was
of no use.
Her hands were all braised and bleeding
with the unavailing attempts ; she sat
down on the step and leaned her head
against the hard, iron -studded door, crying
piteously. Although the previous day had
been hot, Eeperance was shivering with
cold now. She crept up to one of the
stoves, knowing Chet for a great part of the
year they were kept np all night ; but the
fires had been discontinued for some days,
and the iron bars felt as cold as ice. Then
she remembered Bertha's cloak, which
must, evidently, have been lett for her, and
she went down to the iron gate once more,
her footsteps echoing strangely in the silent
night. She picked up the cloak and moved
beck again to the crusader's tomb, not
sorry to be in the moonlight region again.
Just then a fresh thought occurred to
her mind. The vergers would come round
at 8 o'clock to unlook the gates 1 how
should she explain her presence to them 2
Berthe'e fight must, is possible, be kept
secret, and yet if she were found looked in
the cathedral in this unaccountable way
they would surely anepeot something. She
hoped and prayed that the dean, or Cor-
nelia, or some ono who must eventuallly
know, might oome before them, and in the
conviction that all would in some way be
made right, she fell asleep.
Claude Magnay wrote for rooma at the
Spread Eagle and made eager preparations
for his visit to Rilohester, invoking bless-
ings on Lady Worthington's head. He
went by an evening train, and by an odd
coincidence met two of his Rilohester
friends at the ticket office—the precentor
and Mr. White, the Minor canon.
The precentor liked Claude --every one
did, in fact—and, moreover, next to music,
he enjoyed nothing more than talking;, so
he invited him to napper at his house,and
kept up a brisk current of talk till the clock
struck twelve ; then Claude started np,
seeing that he wished to be early in the
cathedral so as to get the morning light.
" It is too late, I suppose, to knock np
one of the vergers 2 " he asked. " I wanted
to get the keys ; the dammed to lend me
his, bat I oanhardly goaround there now."
The precentor at onoo produced hie keye,
and followed hie great to the door.
" L beantifnl moonlight night," he Laid,
looking. out. " I would give 'something t0
take yore to the cathedral nowt but it'd
against ruled to go in Mt night, and mope
with regard tot Wegner* you know, I am
very obedient," (I
Claude langbed, and maid he would be
et o ontent with sifor° r clockfew b, thenout137 asleeplked abnd aack
his hotele
,dream of Esperanoe.
The morning, was as bright and sunny
es
he could with. He walked round by he
windows ; then remembering hie work, he
hastened on to the oathedral, walked up the
long, flagged .path, and unlocked the south
door, Putting down his easel and bag, he
gave himself up for a moment to silent
enjoyment of the beauty armed ; he
glanced down the long vista of embed*, then
his eye traveled back slowly till 'it was
arrested at the crusader's tomb. His heart
beat wildly, and he hurried forward with
eager' though noiseless steps. Gould it
indeed be Esperanoe ? He gazed long and
wonderingly at the little figure. She was
nestled up into a corner, her head had
fallen forward and rested against the tomb,
the soft waves of dark hair contracting
with the white stone; her long, black lathes
lay calmly, her cheeks were flushed with
Bleep, one little brown hand clasped
Javotte's cross tightly, and her whole
attitude and expression were of undisturbed
peace. Some slight sound roused her at
last ; she looked up expectantly, and a
glad light came into her eyes as she eaw
Claude.
"Ah, I am so glad 1" she said ; " I knew
some one would be sent ; I am so glad it
was you, Claude."
The name slipped from her inadver-
tently ; he colored with pleasure.
" Have you been looked in by accident 2"
he asked, wonderingly.
Then the sorrowful look returned to
Esperanoe's face ; she told him all, and
asked his advice. He was much startled
and shocked, but he would dwell on
Bertha's injustice to her, and the cruelty
of shutting her tine into the oathedral. ,
" That does not matter, it is all over
now," she interrupted, " bat how am I to
tell them at home ? What will they say?"
He at once turned his thoughts to has
present difficulties, and self-denyinger
advised her to go to the deanery as soon ly
possible and tell Cornelia, leaving her to
break it to the dean. While they were still
talking it over -the cloak struck seven, and
Esperanoe moved toward the door, feeling
dreadfully stiff after her hard couch.
" I mast go," she said firmly, though she
was beginning to tremble at the thought of
this hard task. " The house will be open
now, and we must lose no time. You are
staying in Rilohester, then 2 "
Claude assented.
" It is very wonderful that yon should
have happened ,to choose this day, but
things always are arranged just rightly,
are they not ? "
Claude thought so too, as he watched the
little figure till it passed out of eight. And
then involuntarily an idea struck him—
how world this unlooked-for tarn of affairs
affect his hopes? Would the deanery
people leave Rilohester at once, and bear
Esperance with them ?
CHAPTER XXXI.
Cornelia was liked one stunned ; she
heard Esperanoe's words, felt her caresses,
and struggled hard to grasp the meaning of
this terrible piece of news, reading over
and over again poor Berths's farewell note.
At last she burst into tears ; her head was
bowed on Eeperanoe's shoulder, and the
strong, independent, hardened nature was
thankful enough to feel itself infolded by
loving, clinging arms. If she had been
different, if the home had been a happier
one, this would never have happened-
there was the sting !
She roused herself at last, and went to
tell the dean and Chrietabel, while Eeper-
ance hovered about restlessly, fearing to
meet any one, and yet finding solitude
almost unendurable.
The dean did not appear at breakfast
time ; Cornelia sent Eeperanoe with a nap
of tea to hie study, and she knocked, and
entered tremblingly. Her uncle's fade was
so changed,even in that short time, that
she could hardly bear to look at it; his
hand shook as he took the cup from her ;
he looked White and soared, yet there was a
curious, dreamy haze in hie eyes. She bent
down to gee him, but did noteayanything;
just as ahe;was turning away, however, she
fanoied he spoke, to her, and waiting,
oanght'the mattered words, " Retribution 1
Retribution 1 the child is like her Tether,
tool"
Eeperance pondered long over that low
ejaculation ; did her uncle take this trial.
as a punishment for his harshness to her
father and ,mother ? Perhaps Cornelia
had this in her thoughts too ; it certainly
did pass through her mind that some
strange fatality must be attached to
marriages in their family. Christabel,
after a brief and not very happy union, had
returned to her father's house as a widow,
her own prospects of happiness had been
disappointed, and Bertha had married
rashly and disobediently.
It was too late now to think of pre-
vention ; all that could be done was to
hush up the affair as muoh as possible, and
Bertha was so often away from home, and
so few friends in Rilohester, that for the
present concealment would not be difficult.
Pephape it was well for them all that
their thoughts were necessarily diverted by
the dean's illness ; it seemed anvieabie that
they should all go away as soon as poseible,
and this making a convenient pretext, it
was arranged that Cornelia should go with
her father to Germany, where be was to
take a course of bathe, while Mrs. Mort-
lake went to visit eome of her husband's
relatives, taking Bella with her.
Esperanoe was sent to the Friory. It
was a great relief to her to be there once
more ; the strain of the last few days had
been great, and the quiet of old Mrs. Pass.
more's house seemed doubly restful. She
had only been there a few hours, however,
when, from her retreat in the garden she
heard the front door bell, and fearing some
visitor from Rilohester who might ask
tiresome questions, was a little vexed. The
servant came across the lawn to her.
" Mistress world be 'glad if she would
step into the drawing -room." •
She obeyed, not very willingly, and the
enrprise was all the greater when, on going
in, the found the visitor to be Claude
Magnay.
Yitirs. Pasamore wee in the middle of the
stook remark which old ladies neem to
enjoy making to young men—"Remember
him ? of course she did, why she had
nursed him in long clothes ! "
Eeperance stood for a moment holding
her brown atrawwhet in her hand, her face
was glowing, and her heart beat quickly.
Mre. Mortlake had told her not to go into
Rilohester more than the amid help in
orae' to avoid questions ; she had not been
to the oathedral that day, end itomehow
she had so missed the bright morning
greeting and the few word(' whioh had
always peened between her and Claude
when she went in 10 service. Claude came
forward eagerly to met her, and the couple
spent a pleasent afternoon.
Claude reminded her of her promised
sitting, and the referred prettily to Mra.
Passmore, whereupon Claude took the
epeteking•trnmpet, and succeeded in making
grannie understand that he wanted to
paint Eeperance. This seemed he
to
gratify the old lady, and before he left it
anataitimeemeleswe
was arranaged that he should come every
afternoon to carry on hie work.
Of oouree while he painted they talked,
and Eeperanoe, who was never quiet for
long at a limo, talked too, and bleshod, and
ehowed the moat puzzling varieties of
expression, sometimes oven forgot herself
so far as to gestionlete, so that had she
deanery, and looked up ` wistfelly at he , been an ordinary model, Glenda would have
been enraged ; as it was, however, he was
all the more delighted, and in spite of her
delinquencies, the pioture was a great
suooess. He found it very hard now not to
tell her of hie love, but he remembered
Lady 'Worthington's advice, and with a
sigh resolved to respeot French .customs.
He asked her instead for Gaepard'e address
in Diekoya, hoping she might' perhaps
guess why he wanted it, but she only looked
provokingly innocent, and began to talk of
coffee plantations.
One day, however, when he walked out to
the Priory, he found Esperanoe unmistak-
ably grave and sad ; ho even fanoied she
had been orying. In the coarse of the
afternoon it transpired that Mrs. Mortlake
had sent for her ; Bela was poorly, and
they were going et onoo to the seaside.
I do not want to leave grannie," she
explained, regretfully ; " it is so quiet and
happy here at the. Priory. Besides, to-
morrow is my jour de naissance, and we were
to have a fete."
But the tears were not altogether for the
lost fete, and, after all, the eighteenth
birthday proved a day of strange, dawning
joy. Claude came to say good-bye to her
jest before she started, bringing with him
some equieite flowers. He would not have
ventured to do so at another time, but the
fete day made a happy excnae, and hie
parting words sent a glad thrill through
Esperanoe.
" Yon will not be at the eea•side all the
summer, I hope, for I shall be in Rilohester
again in two months' time."
Herpresence would make a difference to
him, then She was lad to have the rail-
way oarriage'to herself that day, for she
could not help bursting oat , into little
eostetio enatohes of aong.
Gaspard had had a rough, cross-country
ride on his mare Blanchette. It was San -
morning, and he had been to a store twelve
miles off to service ; now he was Doming
bank to Mr, Seymour's bungalow very hot
and tired and hungry.
Mr. Seymour was standing at the door as
he dismounted. He himself did not manage
to get to a Sunday eervioe more than once
or twine in a year.
" Yon have had a hot ride, Gaspard,"—
the name of De Mabillon was too long to
please him. "I hope your parson gave yon
something very superfine in the way of
sermons to make up for it."
" Two in one," said Gaspard, with a
yawn, " lasting just an hour, and out of a
congregation of thirty, twenty-two were
nodding before the end."
Mr. Seymour made a gesture of com-
passion, then held out two lettere.
" The poet has come ; there is a reward
for yoa."
Gaspard took the lettere, scrutinizing
them eagerly while he led Blanchette round
to her stable, then, having hendedthor over
to one of the coolies, he entered the
bungalow, threw himself back in a wicker
chair and opened Esperanoe's letter. He
was much etartled,by heehaws of Berths's
marriage, end shocked lib think'of her night
of loneliness and terror in the oathedral;
but the end o! her letter reassured him.
He liked to think of her with kind old Mre.
Passmore, and with Claude Magney to
enliven her every afternoon ; there was a
brightness of tone, too, about her writing ,
whioh made him feel happy about her.
However much she tried to make her
letters uniformly cheerful, he always
managed to find out in what mood they
had been written, and about this letter
there was an unusually buoyant happiness.
He opened the next one more leisurely,
wondering whom it was from, then sseing
the signature, was glad and yet surprised
that Claude should write to him. His
bronzed face wore a startled expression as
be slowly deciphered the large, irregular
characters, He read on, however :
MY DEAR DE MAnzaroN,—When we parted.
I did not know how very soon I should
have to oome upon yon for that promised
favor, which you were so pleased to have
suggested to you last summer. I am taking
you at your word, however, and am going
to make a vary serious and great request.
but filet for a little explanation. I was
staying at Worthington Hall last Christ•
mas, and saw your sister twine. I realized
then for the first time how muoh I loved
her, and since then time has only etregth•
ened these convictions. I write now to
ask if you will consent to my proposing to
your sister 2 I shall not dwell upon my
love for her—I cannot write of it, and I
believe you will understand me. I think I
could make her happy, and most earnestly
beg that you will allow me to speak to her.
With regard to money oonsidoratione, you
already know that I am not rich, but I am
in receipt of a small yearly inoome from
invested capital, and am making a good
deal from my pictures so, that I think I
would insure my life or do . anything you
like. I shall await your reply veryanxiously.
My request is a very great one bat I know
you too well not to feel certain that yon
will grant it, if there itf no real obstacle in
the way. Yours most truly,
CiAuoE MeoiwY."
Gesperd'e Moe was a strange mixture of
thankfulness, joy, and regret when he put
down the letter. He liked Claude exceed-
ingly, and felt that he could give Eeperanoe
to him more willingly than to most men,
but in any oase her marriage would involve
a certain sense of lose to himself. There
could be no happy visions of a home in
Ceylon now. But Gaspard had unlearned
hie selfishness in a hard school, and he
loved Eeperance far too muoh not to rejoice
in this prospect of happiness for her. Before
the Sunday was over he had written a
brotherly letter to Claude, inoloaing
another to be given to Esperanoe when he
had spoken to her ; and somehow the more
he thought over this new suggestion the
more he liked it, nor had he muoh doubt
what Eeperanoe'a answer would be.
(To be.Continned).
The Highland Land League.
There will be an immense gathering of
people at Wink, in Scotland, on the 27th
and 28611 inst. The Highland Land League
bas issued a call for a conference and
meeting there on these datea for the put.
pose of diaouesing how best to obtain the
following ends :-(1) To restore to the
Highland people their inherent rights in
their native soil ; (2) to abolish the game
laws ; (3) to amend the laws relating to
sea, lake and river fishing ; (4) to restore
to the people their foreshore rights; (b) to
abolish' the imposition by landlords of
royalties upon mines and quarries ; (6) to
reform the administration of the law ; and
generally to promote the welfare of the
people throughont the Highlands and
Wands of Scotland.
Lieut. Menlo Garibaldi, the youngest
soon of the great liberator, is soon to be
married to Miro Mantegazza, daughter of
the celebrated author of that name.
Whet' did the profaner lay when he
heard he was the father of twins 7" - " EEc
lust raid " geminl1' "
iN THE GREAT W U.DS.,
The Wonders of the Blighty African Woreste
'of the Gaboou River.
As the mariner ap roaches the western
coast of Atrioa above the river Aoampo,
situated 2 deg. north of the equator, and
sails southward along the land as far as
the Gaboon eetaary or river, the southern
shores of which run in a parallel line with
the equator and only o few miles north of
it, writes Paul du Chaffin in the Fortnightly
1iev egu, he beholds all the way, reaching
down to the water's edge, a donee unbroken
forest, And far inland several mountain
ranges covered with trees to their very
tope. These morntaina are known under
the name of Sierra del Crystal. They are
gradually lost to eight as one nears the
Gaboon•
This immense wooded country, iu whioh
I passed several years (1856-59) when but a
lad, and whioh I again visited in 1863.65,
forms the outskirts of the gigantic equato-
rial forest, which I was the first to explore
and whioh has been entered and in part
traversed farther inland• by the heroin
Stanley. The outer or eastern limit of this
belt of forest -clad region ie the very sea
itself, for the roots of its trees spread to
the beach.
A great and magnificent sight greets the
traveler as he finds himeelf in this woody
wilderness. I was awed by the majesty of
the scene and lost in admiration of the
wonderful vegetation whioh is exhibited.
The eilenoe of this forest as one travels
through it is sometimes appalling. Mile
after mile is traversed without even bear•
ing the remitter of a monkey, the shrill cry
of a parrot, the footstep of a gazelle or
antelope. The falling of a leaf, the murn
mur of some hidden rivulet, the humming
of insects, and here and there the solitary
note of a bird only come to give life and
bring relief in the gloom of the vast soli-
tude that surrounds you. The feeling
whioh seizes you as you move aloog in the
silent path is indescribable.
Once in a while the silence is broken by
the heavy footstep of the elephant, the'.
grunt of some wild boar, or the light foot•
steps of some other wild animals. Gigan-
tic trees rising to the height of two or
three hundred feet and even more, tower
over the sea of everlasting foliage like
giants of the forest, ready to give the first
warning of the Doming tornado or tempest
which is to break the tranquility of their
domain. Under these enormous trees other
trees of less size grow, under these again
others still smaller, of all sizes and
shapes and finally a think jungle.
What a jangle it is. Often the
eye tries to pierce through it even a
yard or two. Lianas, like gigantio snakes,
stretch in profusion from tree to tree, and
twine themselves round the stems, or hang
from their branches; thorny creepers,
malacoa-like canes, with their hook-like'.
thorns resting on the edge of the leaves ;
grass with edges as sharp as razors cling to
your clothes, or out deep into the flesh if
they chance to touch any exposed parts ; or
at times .pineapples run wild are seen by
the 10,000—or aloes—while on the bark of
trees hang in large festoons vast masses of
orchids.
Trees covered with flowers, often of
brilliant color and beautitul shape, relieve
at certain seasons of the year the monotony
of the dark green. Other trees end plants'
bear a bonntifal crop of nuts, fruits and',
berries of various sizes, colors and shapes.
The number of these frnit•bearing trees is
very great. One of them - specially pre-
sents a most beautiful sight when bearing.
From its trunk hang large bunches of
olive -shaped fruits of the most gorgeous
red color, delicious to eat, though some.
what acid.
Ebony, barwood and the india•rubber'
tree are found in abundance, specially for
the india•rabber; but unfortunately the 1,
latter is becoming rarer every day owing
to the reckless waste which takes place in
tapping them. The native, in fact, says to
himself, "If I do not take all I can, another
will do it "; the tree dies from exhaustion.
Ivory, beeswax, a little gum copal, barwood,
ebony, a little palm oil are the natural
products found. _
HILL SATISFIEID.
New York's Governor Will Not Interfere
With Electrocution.
The N. Y. World's special from Albany
says : Any one who thinks Governor Hill
will interfere with the law which imbed.
tutee chain lightning for the hangman's
noose is mistaken. The Governor believes
in electrocution. He said so in his first
message as chief executive of the State of
New York, when the efficacy of the dynamo
as criminal exterminator was problema•
tioal, and he says again, now that the
doctors have cut Kemmler np and failed to
find any signs of life after the passage of
the electric current. A reporter visited
the Governor last night and asked him
whether any steps will be taken, or if he
thought any ought to be taken, to prevent
other executions by electricity.
" After considering all that has been said
about the matter," he replied, " I must
still say that I believe in the Mw."
When asked what he thought about the
chargee that eleotrioel executions were
brutal and inhuman, the Governor re-
marked cautiously that the taking off of a
man's life against his will could hardly be
looked upon as humane. There was noth-
ing in the reports from the officials who
witneseed the execution to convince him
that the law for electrical exeontions should
be repealed, end while he declined to enter
into a dispassion on the merits of the new
system, he said emphatically, " you may
say for me that I believe in the law."
Warden Durston says the offioie1 repnr
will show that the execution of
was a great success.
The The Canker of Decay
A Louisville paper devotes h
to the account of " the roma
of the third baseman of
team." It the third base
paper notoriety he ie in lac
this year, but would have
last year, when snoh an e
called for, at '•least a col
The third baseman who
season will have to be eat
line notice. Baseball
rapidly.—•Indianapolis Jo
The great German w
has 1,200 students from
a largo proportion of w
United Stdtert. There a
all in this university.
A by-law submitted
Kingston yesterday, ask':
build and equip a now f
whelmingly defeated
" I have Changed n
Foots, loftily, when hi
that, he had promised
pity the one yon the
Foote, scornfully. --
There are now t
New 'York, all of
qualified to praoti
one of them ie a epi
and handsome yo
etudled the wor.
ei great deaf of Mb
--Neto York Sun.
CANINE WISDOM,
A Worrier Who Cures Herself of a$attle—
euake's Bite.
Among the valuable dogs owned by X.
'F. Cooper, of Ben Lomond vineyard, is a
family of thoroughbred wire-haired ter-
riers. These little oreatares Lire very
bright, and among other aohievemente are
quite expert at snake killing. That they
have an intuitive knowleage not only of
how to kill snakes, but how to heal theirs
selves if the snake gete the better of an
encounter was proved nob long since by
an incident noticed by some of the em-
ployes.
The mother terrier haying discovered a.
rattlesnake ready coiled for a spring placed
herself at a safe distance and began bark-
ing loudly for an assistant. One of her
family of terriers responded to the call;
when the two dogs planed themselves one
on either side of the rattler, barking at it
and slowly approaching it from opposite
directions until within about striking die -
hence for the serpent. The exaeperetod
rattler at last sprang at the . younger dog,
when the mother in great fury pounced
upon the enake. The terriers seize lithe
serpents about midway of the body and
shake them without mercy until life is ex-
tinct.
In this oase the mother terrier attempted'
the usual mode of procedure, and was fairly
successful, but the fangs of the snake int
some way struck her, inflicting a wenncl:
It was evident to those watching her that
her sufferings began at once, but she did;
not lose her head with fear. she made for
a bunch of snake weed not far off and ate
freely of it. Her next move was to a pool
of water that made a small muddy spot.
Into this she plunged, rolling herself about
in every direction and covering herself with
mud. The onlookers gave her np for lost,.
but the canine physician had healed her-
self, and the next morning was entirely all
right, as if ebe had never met his rattle-
enakeship in deadly combat.
NATURE'S NOBLEMEN.
Not Wealth or l.emtly But Heart Graces.
Make the Gentleman.
We are all made of the same clay. The
nicest analysis can detect no difference
between the " blue blood " that rune in:
the veins of the descendant of a lino of
kings and the " vital Haid " of a pauper,
but there is nevertheless an inborn arie-
tooretoy of mind and soul whioh all men
instinctively recognize and whioh com-
pels respect from the haughtiest, says.
the New York Ledger. Patriarehe by
the accident of birth are often baser
selfish and stupid, but God's gentlemen,
though reared in poverty and the heirs
of toil, are euro to manifest their innate
nobility in spite of adverse circumstances:
The,, gentleman born has the right sort
of pride, too. He will go out of his way to
show a atranger the nearest road to any'
point he may desire to reach, share hie
last crest with a starving brother, peril hie
life to protect a woman from inealt, and
is ever prompt to assist weakness and
avenge wrong. Yet if yon offer him com-
pensation for obeying the impalsee of his
kindly nature hie oheek will redden with
indignation at the thought of being mis-
taken for a mercenary, willing to make
a trade of doing good. His labor he will
sell, but not the services whioh his noble
heart teaches him are due to all who are
in necessity, tribulation or danger. Saoh
a man, though his spelling book experi-
ences may be too limited to enable him to
spell the word " pedigree," and he may
have been " raised " in a logshanty cn
salt pork and corn dodgers is, neverthe-
less, royal and the moral peer of any of
hie species.
A Curious London Charity.
Educational Food Fund is the singular
and ambiguous name of a fund promoted
by the Bread and Food Reform League and
the London Vegetarian Society for the
excellent purpose, among others, of pro-
viding food for poor children in the ele-
mentary schools. It is a very harmless
proselytising that accompanies this charity
when addresses are delivered to the chile •
dren explaining the advantages of cereals
and pulses, and when they are induced to
sing " The Staff of Life is Wheat-IIZeaI
Bread." They sing for their dinnera, after
all, and the propagandists have the earnests
belief that they confer an immense boon
on the poorer districts of London by thus
spreading the knowledge of cheap foods.
The first report of the f and states that the
experimental half -penny dinners for school'
ohildren organized in conjunction with the
London Sohools Dinner Aaeooiation have
proved most successful. The teachers
report that the ohildren thoroughly enjoy
the vegetarian soup and wheat -meal bread
provided, and that the system organized by
the two societies give maximum benefit and
minimum trouble. The dinners have else
proved such good means of encouraging the
supply of wholesome, nourishing food
through ordinary trade channels that it is
hoped the system will be largely extendeel
next winter.—London Daily News.
Mauled by a Tiger.
Mr, Howard, of the Norfolk Regiment,
was out shooting on the 21st ult. near
Malapnram, on the west coast of India,
when he suddenly Dame upon a tiger. He
fired at it, wounding the animal, which
rnahed away into the jangle. Mr. Howard
waited an hone and then he followed net
and came across the tiger in the open. The
tiger charged at him. Mr. Howard fired 1
but missed. The tiger seized Mr. Howard
by the arm and clawed his chest. Two or
three net;"as who were present ran away,
ev, who was carrying a
•'`_ up and fired both
g it. Mr -
o
the
•