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the pun in dying has withdrawn his errant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.