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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1895-10-11, Page 4COMM' THRO' THE RYE. BY HELEN B. MATREBS, (CONCLUDED.) Mee Nell," sbe says after her old fashion, "and. are you going to get your- self hate nore trouble? The bairn ought to be with his mother." "Only he is not, you t ee," I say, tying the strings of Wattie's eight -gear. "Nurse, have you heara about Symonds?" "I have, Bliss Nell, and I fear the poor wean has run a terrible risk." "Hush!" I cry, sharply, just as I bade Simpkins hold his Oeace, "It is never pos- able to tell, nurse; you said so yourself the other day. You know it passea over one person to take another, and it is tin - possible to toil " "Eh!" she says again, doubtfully; and I could beat her that she will speak to me no word. of eolafort. Wattle is ready for bed, but Wattle will nob go. He has esoaped from me and is dancing to and fro on the carpet, where the sunbeams are playing at hide-and-seek; his little pink and white toes are likethse- leaves flying hither and thither; the boughs without throw their shadows on hs eagoanelighted, wilful face. Not until the pun in dying has withdrawn his errant sons and daughters does Wattle tire of his play; then I catch him up in my aries,and we roll over and over together on the bed, he shouting with laughter. Then,when he ' is quieter, to my surprise he scrambles on to my lap, and kneels there; laying his tiny dimpled. hands palm to palm, and shutting Ms hands tight, he makes his evening prayer something after this fash- ion: "Peese, Dawd--peese, Dawd, bees papa,men-'sa, Leine; make 'Otty New dood boy, Trist 'aka. Yaymen " Then, being between the sheets, he pulls my head down on the pillow beside his, clasps his arms around my neck, and in another minute is sound. asleep with doubled -up lists. After awhile I leave him to go to nurse, for there is much to think of and settle. I sit by Wattie's side far into the night; but his skin is still cool and fresh, he sleeps calmly and seems to know no uneasiness; and at last I undress and. lie down beside him. I awake suddenly, when the light of the moon is still shining in, broad and clear, tracing silver patterns on the carpet and the wall, and bend. my head down to look 'Leto my darling's faoe. What if it has sickened while I lay sense- lessly, dully asleep? but be looks just as he did when I saw his face last: Igo to sleep again with my anus round him. Wattle went to bed with the sunbeams; he wakes up with the sunlight, and oh 1 the happiness that fills my heart as he runs about, active and bright, getting into every bit of mis- chief, bless him! that the place contains, I wash him, dress him, feed him with the bread and milk nurse brings at' seven o'clock; then I dress myself, and we go out together into the glorious morning, among the soarkling dew -drop and early radiance that seems to have no knowledge or thought of disease, pain and death. And all through the day we are happy to- gether, be and I! No fits of passion or sulkiness ever deform the eharaoter of Paul's little son; he is as spirited as he is gentle,led by a word, turned to iron by an injustice, as his father ever was. "Symonds is very ill," say the amounts gleaned from a. clietanse. Can it be pos- sible, I ask, trembling, that a woman so thoroughly infected with the fever could avoid giving it to the child she was always with? But the day wears on to eventide, and the roses do not burn too brightly in his cheees, his steps know no flagging, and he goes to bed as he went last night, against his wilL It must be the very early morning, just when the moonlight has gone and the grayness of the dawn has notyet appeared, that I am awakened by a hoarse little voice asking for "water." It is one of the few words that I have been able to teach Wattle's baby -lips to utter. I move not for a moment; I am like a dead creature who has been slain by one lightning blow from a two-edged sword. I know what the cry means. I know that Death has called my angel away from me. Then I rise stiffly, and bring water, which already, already it hurts him to swallow. I lay the little head back upon the pillow, I do not kiss him or speak to him; I fall down on my kneees by his side —Wattle! God has taken all else on earth from me, and now he is ;beckoning you, nay darling! my darling! Half an hour later aind a man has re- turned from Pimpernel with the doctor; an hour, and he is gone again. Be can't do no raore for the only son of Paul Vasher than the son of a cottager; a few days, or hours even, will determine the issue. "It is in God's hands," say the ser- vants, as they move to and fro, and the words sound tome in my agony like direst mockery. Somebody takes away the tele- grams that Mend to the father and raother —though eel& should they come here? they never spoke to my darling in life, why should tees, con.e to look on him now, he is going away? He is mine now—mine; he wants no one else. The doctor comes and goes; he spends half his time fighting with the grixn enemy over this little resisting frame. A nurse takes up her station in the room, blit she never touches him ; he takes every- thing alike from my hand. He has still some hope of the child, the doctor says, and calls in a greater man than he, and the two consult together; but. oh! I know that Wattle has been called, that he is go- ing—I know it from the very first. They go away, these men, saying they will come back preeently; they need not oorne, for they will he wanted. by Wattle never any more. He has always known me right through; he kneWs me now, and smiles at me with Ms parched, dried lips, as I give him some cooling drink; he shall be troubled with no more medicine,no more, little Wattle— you bad little enough of it in your short throe -y. ar-old young life. He has never been fretful, wilful, or complaining, in this illness as other children are; if he hadonly shown some of his old masterful ways, I should not teol so sure—but he jest lies on my knees, fading away before my eyes, and as he grows fainter and weaker a pas- sionate cry rises front my bitter -wrung heart: "If be must go, let me go with hint I" But my prayer passes unheeded. X ant stroeg and weil,only sick with weep- ing, worn With watching and fasting, brought to the lowest depths of misery by having the thild taken from me; and AO it falls that on the third night (be has been Very quick about it, my little Wattle, who was alwaye so loath bo leave xne for an hour even) agile lies on my lap, abolit six &Clock, he opens his beautiful browneyes, his hand flutters. a little in Mine; and as X hang over him in agonized, breathiese dread "Deocleby, Millie!" he Says; a lov- ing smile fliekere ever his face for "a Mo- ment, then— he ie gone. CHAPTER XIII. My little dead angel is lving alone on the wide White. bed, With roses in his fold- ed hands, and tapers burning ott either Side. YOU would never know that he had been ill at all to look round thee room; Itis all so neat, so simple, so fresh, Through the open Windows the moon sends a flood of light that washes the floor, the bed, the waxen features of my darling?, who liee there so still and quiet—he whoused to run about so Indefetigably, whose feet were never tired, whose vete) was never still save when, he slept; and, he is not asleep now—yet that eyeless, voiceless, pulseless shape is my little lad. I am not by his side now; no tears v o thl eome to me as I looked down on the tittle sad face that haa smiled on nee so lovingly four hours ago, on the lips that bad syllabied "Good -by, Laille V' with the last hovering breath, on the hands that only slackened their hold on, mine when, death detached them. • When I brushed out his beautiful golden ourls, and felt them cling round. my fingers like living, sentient things, they evoke no memory in me of those other times when I bad brushed. them, finding suoh troable in keeping the restless head still - 1 was as unfeeling, as silent, as placid as he. The nurse has gone away . with the rest; she would have watehed with me be. side him all. night, but she shalt not—no one shall do ieuything for him but me. I am sitting in the wheel -room alone, and the sound of the church -clock striking ten comes with sudden loudness through the silence. Ten! and at five o'clock Walter was liv- ing; X had. him in my arms, I was able to kiss hith,to call upon him by every foolish name my heart prompted, and he was able th answer me, to put out his weak hand to me, to smile at me—only five hours ago 1 Oh, Godl oh, God" I ory,,as I rook myself to and fro. "make me understand, make me see it ; remove this terrible in- terval that lies between my living \Pattie and this dead one." If he only could come back to me for one brief moment, if only he could tell me all about it!—I can not get hold of you, Wattle, my angel; you are not dead,so I have no memory of you; yeller° not liv- ing, so I can not speak to you. To -mor- row, perhaps, you will seem further away; I shall learn to remember. Harkl what is that? Hasty footsteps are crushing the gravel, coming nearer and nearer. Who can it be that mince here so late? And further away I seem to hear lighter steps, that follow after the first. Have the father and mother returned, too late? And my dull heart gives an exultant leap that Silvia should come too late—that Wattle died in my arms, not hers. The steps pass on, retrent, come forward again, and in another minute a man steps into the flood. of moonlight that fills the room —Paul Vasher. How wild he looks, how strange! After all, he did love the little dead son yonder,only his pride forbade his showing it? "I thought you would have oome soon- er," I say, slowly; "I have been expecting you for days." "And I am here," he says, as slowly as 1. His face is pale and set,his dark eyes are flaming under his drawn brows. "Love," he says, quietly, and in his quietness there is a deadly strength that chills me. "I cannot live without you. I have come back to tell you so. Will you end this life of hell and misery, and come away with me?" But I do not answer; I only fall back before him, and stand with dilated eyes and parted lips, staring at him. "Are you afraid, sweetheart? Do you be- lieve that the words uttered by a mumb- ling old priest make things sacred that are not sacred in themselves? Do you believe that you would be any the more my wife if a form of words had been spoken over us? Are the man and woman, forsooth, who are made for each other, and would oleave to each other through time and death and eternity, to be considered less married in God's eyes than the wretches who are bound together by the fetters of expediency, fraud, and the love of gold." But I only hold up my hands and wave him back. I am dumb—dumb as my in- nocent darling lying yonder, dumb as the stones that lie at my feet. "Sweetheart! wife!" he cries, ooming nearer, and the old fire has come back to his eye, the old masterful vigor to his voice, "I must have you—I can't live with- out you. Ever since that Christmas -morn- ing I have been wrestling and fighting with myself as no other devil -tempted, God -forsaken man ever fought in vain. I knew that the other day when I touched your hand at parting, for the first time for three years and more. When I got to Scot- land a chance remark told me that you were here alone; I set out. You will some with roe to -night, Nell, to -night. All is prepared, everything is in readiness; no one knows I am in Silverbridge. By the morning we shall be far away—together at last. Oh, heavens!" he cries, with a strong,wild leap of exultation in his voice. "at last—I had been very doubtful 'about you, my beautiful darling. I did net think your love would stand the test—but when you said you had been expecting me. that you thought I should have been here soon er—I knew then, Nell, that your love was strong as mine." A dark shadow crosses the moonlight, a white hand alights like a snow -flake on Paul's arm. He turns, and at his elbow stands Silvia, smiling. She steps through the window, and then we stand in the moonlight, that shows our faces clear as at noonday—my lover, his wife, and L It is Paul who sneaks first. • So it is you, madame?" he says, slow - ly, And, pray, are you following your old and successful avocation of a spy?" "Yes," she says, quietly, "if following one's husband be spving, for I have been following you. I envoys knew you would oome baok to this girl,sooner or later, and ask her to go off with you; and I always knew that, for all her proud disdainful airs, she would go—when you asked her. Don't supeose that I want to hinder you from going; on the contrary, if you do not, I will take good are that the country rings with the story of how I found Iny husband and Miss Helen Adair alone, at eleven at night, when all her people were away, arranging an elopement between them. X Wonder whether it would be you or I who would be blamed then for not having got on together? I don't want to stop you; I only came after you to shame bor. Ha, hal Have I not my revEnge on you at last. Helen Adair?" Paul does not speak, only his hands clinch and enclitic/1 themselves rapidly, and his breast rises in short, quick pants. "You taunted me once with the posses- sion of a good name, that no living man or woman weld lay a finger on," she says, In her mocking, flute -like tones; "do you thiele it is so white and soilless now?" I say, lifting my hand and beckoning to her, "you will wine with Like a woman who moves witheet her own volition Silvin loaves her place and tolloeve, Again I lift my hand and beck- on to Paul, who also comes slowly like a man in 0 dream—I open the door, traverse the paseage, and enter the bedroom, the husband and wife foliciwing. X walk to the bed and look round at them—they am standing by the door—and litt rity and once more and they conte arid stand on either side. of the bed—and tbOY look clown on the dead face of their little fatherless, motherless SOP, Wattle. "Ile died av six of the clock this even- ing," I say, monotonously; then some- thing seems te snap in my brain, and fail like 0 log with my arms round my little dead lad. * * * Under God's sky, a man stands holding nig hand in his for the last time and asks ane, as though I were his judge, to forgive him the terrible sin and tveaohery into which Ms mad, sinful love and agony drove ; end I forgive him, yes, from the very bottom of rny heart, and. bid him God -speed, for I know that just as surely ae that Wattle is laid away out of my sight under the brown mold at our feet, so I shall never look on his father's face again in this life—and so we say good -by rover- entle,tenderly, knowing it is our last fare- well, and then—he goes. And on the night of the 18,st day but one of August, in the yet early morning, he comes to me in my sleep, with the clear light of the immortals on his brow, and I awake, knowing fall well that he is dead. Fourteen days afterward a letter is brought to me, and the superscription of the envelope is written by a Frenchman. take it away to my chamber, and sit down with it in my hand; I am in no hurry to read it, ter I know; then I break the seal. "Mademoiselle." the letter begins, "I have a sacred duty to perform to you; pray you to forgive me that it is so pain- ful a one. 'Before Sedan I fought side by side with M. Vasher, and it was toward evening that he fell, badly wounded. By good f rtu.ne I got him away to a plaoe of safety, and a good sister oame and tended him, but he was past human aid. He gave me your address and bade me tell you how he died. Madethoiselle, he was the bravest man, the truest gentleman that ever took sword in hand. He was very restless all night, but he never complained; and—for- give me, I had fallen asleep for a moment —toward the very early morning, I was awakened by his voice ringing out. loud and olear as a trumpet, thro' the rye.—God's rye, Nell!' then he fell dead. We buried him, mademoiselle, at sunset, and laid on his heart a miniature he had always/ as he bade • An bonn afterward a lady came; she was very beau- tiful, and seemed wild with grief. • Made- moiselle, she said she was his wife. With humble assurances of my sympathy, am Your faithful servant, Gabriel Risoliere." Will they find each other up above, I wonder, my lost lover and my lost angel? And Si2100 I shall go to them, but they will not return to me, I pant, I weary, I burn for the moment when death, "like a friend's voice from a distant field,' ' shall call to me, and, taking my hand in his, lead me to the plains and fields that girdle round the shining city, where shall I not see my darlings stepping to meet me through the unfading, incorruptible splen- dor of "God's Rye?" THE END. A Pathetic Incident. An observing tourist, with the appro. priative sense wed developed, sees much to enrich his experience, awaken his sym- pathies and enlist his interest during a so.' I journ in Co/.orado. They were full of expectancy. The inde- Ia a hotel in Colorado Springs there ' pendent press was full of denunciations were gathered many transient visitors, to -of McGreevy's turpitude, and, in Ontario, gether with others who come for the cure . Conservative papers called upon Lange - insured by the climate to those most , vin to resign. afflicted Ity the dread malady museum -1 The party was without a leader. An tion. It is pathetic to note the hopefulness inner council of the more powerful Min- ot each individual, no matter how serious isters decided upon, or wrangled over, may be his real condition. While some all questions of policy. Sir John Mac - will inquire with grim humor of a new- donald's death had left a void that it comer, "Are you a one or two lunser?"— seemed impossible to fill. McGreevy, the majority of them prefer to believe that though illiterate and wanting in re - their restoration to perfect health is only a source, had said that if he were expelled matter of time. from the House he would take others 1 Underlying this cultivated or assumed with him. In short, there was chaos. conviction, there is often a depression, a It was then that Girouard came to the fearfulness—even consternation, when one front. He told the oligarchy that con - of their number suddenly sucoumbs to the trolled things that McGreevy must be disease, and his vacant seat is a sad re- 1 convicted and that Langevin must re- minder that even the vitalizing, stimulat- 1 sign* Sir John Thompson, not well ac- ing breath of the Rockies cannot work quainted with Quebec and her politics, miracles. • I was disposed to fear for his party's suc- A beautiful young girl from New York oess in the by-elections if Langevin especially won my affection , by her devo- I were deprived of his portfolio. Girouard tion to others and her utter unconscious- assured the future Premier that all would ness of the fact that her very hours were be well. There was nothing to fear from numbered She clung tenaciously to the Sir Hector, he said, for he was an old belief that she was gaining, when it re-, 1 man whose hold on the bishops was quired the greatest effort on her part to weakening. "Let Langevin go; call in walk to the dining -room or find the sunny Ouimet," said Girouard. seab upon thed h' h knew h f "But why not go in yourself," Sir John well. One morning I Wand her sewing. 1 Thompson said,—so the story goes. "What are you making?" I asked. I "When I take anything from the Gov - "A pine -needle pillow," she responded, I ernment it won't be a Cabinet position," with difficulty smothering the cough which ,returned Girouard, "I shall want a life invariably followed a long sentence. appointment. At present I want no - "For whom?" I inquired thing. Ouimet has lots of money,and he "For a young man whose physician says is fairly popular." Girouard's advice he cannot live two weeks longer," she an- / was taken. Oulmet, with his income of swered sadly. "The colors are very ugly, 1 thirty thousand a year, accepted Lange - are they not?' ' she continued, "but he sel- yin's portfolio. McGreevy was expelled, eoted this silk, and. when he asked me if I onlY to be returned three years later. liked it I told him 'Yes,' I could not help And now Girouard, who is a rich man. liking it for his sake, poor boy"—with a has entered into his reward. Henceforth sigh—"and I have written to his mother, ! his lot will be an easy one. He brings telling her to come as soon as possible. i to a somewhat weak bench much legal She is 1/2 England, and he has no relatives ability and knowledge. Unlike Fournier, in this country." • who knew nothing of law outside of the • Justethen a dog -cart appeared. Quebec code, Justice Girouard is well "There he is now!" she exclaimed, with versed in the procedure and enactments a smile. "Bless him! Does he think I can of the other provinces. He will be a make this in a minute?" The young man raised his hat most de- ferentially to her,and the false was not one to be forgotten. It was handsome, win- Like the man in Proverbs, Israel Tarte some, joyous; the deceptive flush given to continuos to showei darkness and arrows the eyes an added luster, He came for- into the Conservative camp. Tarte is ward to greet the girl, who did not rise, tireless in his discoveries of Cabinet dis- I left peroipitately, for my eyes 'were sensions and of partisan broils. It surely tear -dimmed, and the Angel of De,ath must have been his inventive mind that seemed to me be hovering with outstretch- originated the story of Angers' deter - ed wings over the pair. Initiation to issue a manifesto on the school OUR OTTAWA LETTER GOSSIP ON POLITICIANS AND POLITICAL EVENTS, Onlmet on Greenway--acuights of the Round "rwanie---israet TarteN Ingenuity— The Liberal Leader's Ifetiath--wm Sir Oliver lieSigir—iferbert's S41000$801'. • There journeyed. into English Canada last week a guratetee Of notable French Caeadinies, thief of whom in point of power was d". Alderio Ouimet, Miuieter of Public Works. The.others were Dr. Laohapollo, member for Hothelaga, and a Clerical of the Cleeicals, Speaker Le Bien; of the Legislative Council of Quebec, and Louis Costo, Chief Engineer of the Department of Public Works. These four gentlemen visited Coiling - wood, where the Minister opened the Great Northern Fair. It would have been expeoting too much of the oommon- place Oubnet to have anticipated a speech containing matter of interest. The Min- ister of Public Works speaks poorly in his native tongue; in the alien English he is at a loss for both words and ideas. At Collingwood he took a leaf from the book . of Chapleau the Eloquent, who never , failed to toll Ontario audiences that he 1 looked for the time when French Cana- dians should know their English -speak: ing fellow -countrymen as well as they knew their own compatriots. Further than this, Ouimet was prolific in nothing but platitudes. Oulmet on Greenway. On his return 'journey, the Minister stayed over in Toronto, whom he reoeiv- ed the homage of many of the faithful. , To his intimates he spoke guardedly of the future plans of the Government. "All now depends on Greenway" said ; he, "and I do not think it likely that he ! will put himself out to do us any favors." Thus, at least, the Minister is reported as having delivered himself to O Toronto newspaper reporter, who, in- dustrious and matter-of-fact collector of news, failed to see that the stolid Oui- met was by way of making a joke. It is but throe months since this same French- man told a Montreal audience that Green- way was the enemy of the French Cana- an 5000. And now, when he makes a joke re- garding this sombrero'd Premier, he is taken seriously. 'entente of the Bound Table. The round table that stands in the Privy Council Chamber at Ottawa has been en- circled this week by the governors of the country. The Premier has greeted once more his colleagues and has led them in apportioning a luscious piece of patron- age. To Desire Girouard, M. P. for Jacques Cartier, and a leader of power among the French Conservatives of the Montreal district. It was in the famous scandal session of '91 that Girouard did his Most efficient work for his party. He was chairman of tbe Committee on Privileges and Elections, which tried the case of Thomas McGreevy. The Grits were in a minority of only twenty-eight. They knew that the evidence which Tette would bring against McGreevy and working judge, as he has been an in- dustrious lawyer. Israel Torte's Ingenuity. • question. In making this statement Tarte has given the late Minister of Agriculture credit for having the strength of mind to say something new, for most assuredly all that is commonplace has been said very long ago. It is not in Angers to take any decided stand on any. question that does not affect his personal vanity. In July last he thought that he would be the victor in the war which he waged with Haggart and the English- speaking Ministers. He was 'vanquished signally, and is a dead man politically. The inventive Tarte must give an in- terested public a more scientifIcaily con- structed story than this. The Liberal Leader' Health. Robust health has always been denied Wilfrid Laurier. In Ottawathe Liberal leader does not often pass a session with- out an illness of a more or less serious nature. Madame Laurier is compelled to watch her hushand like an elder sister, for he is prone to overtax his strength. Laryngeal affections have always troubled him, and now, at a most untoward time, this old throat trouble has returned. The series of meetings that James Sutherland had arranged has been Cancelled. It may be that late in the atittunn the people of Ontorto will be givee an opportunity of Ho Chance for the Last Word. The conversation had drifted to death- bed scenes, and a funeral air pervaded the dining -room. "Yes," said Mrs. Skraggs, solemnly, in answer ts) a question, "I was present when my poor husband breathed his last." The man with the barbed-wire beard gulped down a sob and a large portion of baked tomato. "And what"— The man with the V-shaped nose had sympathetic tears in his tones, somewhat Mixed, however, with, mashed potatoes. "Were bis last Words?" Mrs. Skraggs glanced disdainfully across the table. "I said, Mr. Blinkins, that I was present When my husband breathed his last, sir." The silence which followed could have been out With a knife, had not the board- ers preferred using that table utensil on their alleged roast beef. She Preferred the Best Plays. "There's an act of affection, said young Jimpsy as he imprinted a kiss upon her coral lips. "The really best playa have three acts George," said the fair young woman look-. ing up at him without blinking, J•• hearing the Liberal ttihnne, but there eoilid be ne time better than the present, /1 Was the idea of Whin Sutheriond that it would be well for hie leader to do some missionary work in the smeller. Ontario twos, Whore pelblie halls are few, but whore agricultural societies' buildings and the like ore lways ob- teineble. Saab plows do very welt for peblic meetings lo the summer or the early attemou. 13111 when the chill winds begin to blow there is ne menus of heat- ing them and the citizeu stays at henna eVill Sir Oliver Resign? Rumors continue to come from over sea regarding !kir Oliver Mowat's ill -health. Already men tate of the successor of the Little Premier, end every finger points to Arthur Storgis Hardy. He, the "Wiebed Partner," is surely in the direct Line of sucoessiou. Next in seniority to the Attorney General, he has had much experience. lie is an astute politician, te- sunward, not always sorupolous, and withal, a clean mai), as the saying, is. He would make no failure of his task should Sir Oliver decide to resign his leadership. But it must be said that nothing is more improbable than that the Premier should take such a course, The duties of his position are not cruerottO, The Petrone have been conciliated, and henceforth will support the Government on all questions of importance. There remains nothing to contend with but a • weak and ineffective Oppostition, that eau serve only as a foil to exhibit the brilliance of the Administration. Perhaps some independents who verge towards the Conservative sohool, may ob- ject to this latter expression. Its use is warrantable. In Mowat, Ross and Hardy the Government has three strong men. Their administration has been suc- cessful because there have existed 00 needs for anything but straight and busi- ness -like methods. The Government of Ontario, be it either Grit or Tory, has few difficulties to oontend with. The in- come is easily raised; the responsibilities are insignificant compared to those of the men in power at Ottawa. Wilat the feeling is in the rural districts may be I do not know, but the general sentiment In the cities is that in the Government of Ontario the people have little interest in politics. It is solely a question of admin- istration. There is nu reason for believ- ing that, had William Ralph Meredith attained power, he would not have con- ducted Ms government as well and as satisfactorily as Sir Oliver Mowat has done. Ex -General Herbert's Successor. The los of the last two of the chiefs of the Canadian militia has not been tat easy one. Sir Fred Middleton still re- members with indignation his treatment at the hands of the Canadian politicians. Now 'Herbert returns to England to re - stone his position as lieutenant-oolonel of a battalion of the Guards. Concern- ing his successor, General Gascoigne, it is said that he indulges in little theorizing. It was bore that Gemara' Herbert was a failure. He forgot that he hact to dealt with volunteers, and not with regulars. Consequently he became the firm friend of -the permarent corps, and had scant favor for the militia With a new Min- ister anct a freshly imported General the volunteers' lot may be an easier one. The oity regiments are receiving only eight days' pay this year, whereat their members are incensed. Mr. Dickey has promised to do his best for them next year, and it is likely that .his pledge will be made good. A general election is coming on and the militia vote is a large one. The Third Partv and the First Sir John. In the parliament of a decade ago there WAS 210 more prominent figure than Hon. Peter Mitchell, once Minister of Marine in the Mackenzie Administration, but in his later days a political free lance. Erratic, but well informed, it was not seldom that the Third Party, as be loved to call him- self, amused and instructed the House. His methods were peculiar. I remember one night six or seven years ago when the House was tired, and members thought of the driving snow -storm out- side that would make Ottawa streets im- passable long before midnight. There seemed to be nothing on the order paper that would prevent an early adjourn- ment. Ronleau, the Clerk Assistant, rasped out in his broken English the title of some unimportant bill, The Premier looked up from his little bag of candies --the first Sir John often solaced himself with sweets—and said: "We might as well leave that over. We were up late last night, and I think we all want to get home." The Honorable Peter bad been dining out, and just as the First Minister finish- ed he entered,the chamber, glorious in .evening dress. "I won't consent to an adjournment, "he thundered. "Here's the Piame Minister eating candies, and the House fast asleep. That's not what the people pay the members for. I insist upon a disoussion of this bill." Sir John was ever resourceful. He arose and suggested that the honorable gentleman step outside with him, when be would be pleased to give him an ex- planation of his reasons for wishing an adjournment. "I am always glad to take the Third Party into my confidence," said the Old Man, ?sodding and wagging his head. Mitchell smiled pleasedly, and followed the Prime Minister into the corridor. No sooner was he outside than he heard O veritable war of laughter. He turned to re enter the chamber, and collided with the Speaker. The House "was up" for Langevin, acting on a Mot from the Premier, had moved the adjournment as soon as .Mitchell's back was tweed. Campaign and Cabinet Rumors. And now we hear that the Third Party is campaigning in his old constituency. At the last election he was defeated by Michael Adams, who, being a Roman Catholic, was a strong candidate in Northumberland. This smile Mr. Adams Is something of a celebrity. .He it was who bad a battle royal last session with George Taylor, the chief Government whip. At the time the readerS of this correspondence wen) told of the tongue - thrashing that this strong-minded son of Erin gave the inoffensive whip. Mr. Adamsstand on the school question has been immoveable. He is for remedial legislation, and he has depicted an awful fate for the Government if they do not fall in vvith his views. Lately Ile visited Ottawa, wherefore it is said of him that he is seeking a senatorship. • Nothing could be more improbable. Adams does not need rnoney, for he is rich, end be loves the excitement that is so snuch missed ie the 'Upper Chamber. Further than this, it would be hard for any other ConservatiVe to carry Northumberland against Peter Mitchell, afeet of Whieh the Ministers are well aware. A little boom has boon engineered With its ob- ject being the &nation of Willie -In Smith,the member for South Ontario, to C4lathairlienito rp nbis friondslel usi71i s1zu1d be hlinisthr of Agrioulture. Their good will ()ebe tho eoxittli tee °Irani for r r thereih cleouinut4)11 1 chamber, and he will doubtless be 4 Frenchman with loffuence and oratorical ability, Neither Caron nor Oulinet pos- sess the latter gift, Therein it was that Chapleau's strength lay, and 10 will be for 0 man to 011 Cbaplean's plaoe that the Ministers will ottat 'their eyes abroad. • Col. Denison Deese nettee to Onimet. It has remained for Col. G. T. DeniSon, warrior, Imperialist ana police magistrate of Toronto, to do justice to Ottimet, Evoia• Canadian knows 01 1110 aspersions ou the Frenolonan'e character as a sol- dier; how it was. said that he retorned to Ottawa in 1885 because be was afraid to fight; that he bad asked to be given the duty of guarding the base of supplies; and that, in short, ho was a poltroon. At vile time of the Riel rebellion Oui- met vas Colonel of the 65111, a French regiment of Montreal. He certainly did return to Ottawa, but Col: Denison says that it was because General Strange, who commanded the column of which the 65th formed a part, was junior so him Lu service. According to Ool. Denison, Col. Ouimet went to Ottawa to have the mat- ter adjusted, had. it done, and went book to his oommendS But the story has had ten years Start of the contradiction, and it will be many years before the Minister ot panne Works ceases to face the sillies qua! arrows of the enemies who taune'him with coward ice. • Look in the Caass. Coarse, dark brown, 'uneven hair, straight or crisp, small curls, means in- nate vulgarity.. • Straight black hair growing coarse and thick indicates more order and industry than mental power. Glossy black hair inclined to wave or curl means keen perceptions and usually a cautious, secretive nature. Black hair in general shows stolidity, a wiry consti- tution ; and curly, coarse black hair in-. dioates irritability and stupidity. Straight hair indicates inoi•e power to govern'than curly hair. It accompanies people who are straight, erect in walk- ing, whose bodies exhibit straight lines and angles rather than curves and who possess a 3nenta1 character to correspond. Curly-haired people are more sinuous. A good forehead and partly bald head with thin, black hair, may mark the possession of judgment, though lacking ready wit and invention. Straight, fair hair indicates a general amiable disposi- tion or a dull, phlegmatic temperament. •Red hair means entirety in eharacteri s- ties—no half -way business here. The owner will be very kind or very cruel, very true or very false. ' It usually in- dicates a Quick temper, though there ars exceptions. . Very coarse red hair testifies to animal propensities. Auburn hair means a kindly, sympathetic nature. Fine brown hair only accompanies ex- cellent minds and generally the owner has intellectual tendencies. Beautiful golden hair is rarely seen on persons of a gross nature. Its owner loves fine arts and possesses exquisiste sensibilities. As a rule, smooth, fine, softly waving t hair betokens gentleness, quietness, neatness. Unduly sleek, straight hair gives warAing of slyness, hypocrisy. Curls denote it feeble sense of right and wrong, gaiety, vivacity, self-confidence, , Hair growing low on the forehead signifies a strong constitution and long- lived ancestry; a peak coming down on the forehead shows excellent powers of observation, honest purposes and a frac- tious temper. ' 1 Stub Ends of Thought. No raan is a here to his valet, any more than no woman is an angel to her maid. Wedded bliss consists largely of two people getting used to each other. Women change their minds quickly on the principle that large bodies move slowly. Religion with too many people is the church they belong to. Children, as a rule, are rank material- ists—the more you give them the better they like you. Love makes courtship; law makes mar- riage. • When a man goes to lying for profit, he is beyood reformation The more scandal is spread out, the thicker it gots. We sm ile with the heart and laugh with the lips. points for Housekeepers. Soft newspaper is excellent to cleanse windows or any glassware. Vaseline makes the best dressing for russet shoes. Spirits of turpentine is the thing with which to cleanse and brighten patent leather. Moderately strong salt and water taken by the teaspoonful at intervals ie a oure for catarrhal cold. A level teaspoonful of boracic acid dis- solved in a pint of freshly boiled water and applied cool is thp best wash for in- flamed sore eyes or granulated lids, and an excellent gargle for inflamed sore throat. A Plant DangeroUs to Horses. It is often said that man is the only ani- mal that seeks for intoxicants, This is not true. In Mexico and portions of Texas grows a plant known as the "loco." It grows wild upon the plains, and ha a to be very carefully exterminated by ranchmen. Horses and cattle are very fond of it and evidently seek it for its effects, which ar niA similar to those of drunkenness in me - When a horse it eats his value is gone, li ' will stagger and a very slight blow upon the head will kill hint, When he recovers from tho effects of one debauch he is crazy until he can again gee the plant, and in a short time the subtle poison has done its work and he is dead. It is a source of con- stant dread to the ranchmen, and a careful searoh is made for it when inspecting a range for cattle. An tenequai name. First Western Citizen—How did the election come out in your town? Second Western Citizen — Thompson won, of course. He had inormy, you see, and the best the other fellow Astrid do Was to give a town lot to ()Very voter. • Satisfactory. Saidso—"I've got ing will so there will he no contest." * Plerdso--" How P" Saidth—"X'Ve left the property to my heirs, but in trust for my lawyers. obvious. How'll I charge *this bill fot electric lighting? asked the now clerk. The head bookkeeper looked at him tion temptnously and ansWered. To cairrent expenses of °muse.