HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1907-05-09, Page 2;.1
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A Loveless Marriagc;
1
A 1'IATTER OF EXCHANGE.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Ile struck her full on the forehead.
She staggered, but caught at a chair
near her, aid presently was able to
eland quite Mill. No cry escaped her.
Once again the thought arose in her
that he meant to kill Iter. but this time
she felt no fear. She was almost con-
scious indeed of being glad of his bru-
tally. Now she might indulge tho pas-
sionate hatred that for long time had
tcund a home in her breast—might give
a loose rein to the bitter -scorn and con-
tempt that scorched her spirit. Nuw,
tco, surely, she might think without
such great sin up en tite deep, unhappy
love that filled her very being!
That first time when he had actually
IH -heated her, she had striven with all
her strength, and on her beaded knees.
to compel herself to forgiveness, and
had very nearly succeeded. She had 9t
Last brought her..etf as close to con-
donement as earthly soul can go.
There had been a suspicion of jeal-
ot.sy in that first cruel attack, and she
had made excuses for it to herself, and
had se nig ht to blot it from her memory;
Mut This --this was different. Out :.f
sheer revenge, born of a baffled desire,
he had struck her that evil blow. No;
she would not forgive. Though death
indeed were coating (and his face was
black with fureth she would meet It, and
ger judgment hereafter, without a
thought of pardon for this brutal tyrant!
"Will you give In?" demanded he, his
rrent h coming thick and fast.
"Not though you kill me," returned
she.
her fare like marble save
for the
(11111. red mark that was now slowly
covering her forehead.
Her calmness. that looked like, and
was In part. defiance. enraged him. tie
struck her again, then caught her In
a vicious grasp, shook her like a reed,
and flung her from him.
Tips time she ltist her balance, sway-
ed, and came heavily to the ground.
striking her head agnlnst the corner of
an ottoman as she fell.
Not cnring.whether she lived or was
dead. Vereker lurched out of the room,
closing the door with a savage bang
behind him. That last time -that night
in the library—he had felt some twinges
of remorse; now, he felt nothing, only
n savage joy in that he had punished
her.
By degrees consciousness returned te
ler; she rose to her knees, and from that
get on to her feet, and then stood look-
ing round her In a hnit-dazed fashion.
She pushed back the hair from her fore -
bend, and stared vaguely at the fire,
which hnd begun to burn low. A long,
long sigh escaped her.
Presently she mode a mechanical
movement, as if to lift her right arm
to her throat. but something, some
shooting pain that telt like the touch
of a red-hot iron, checked her, and r.
s(nsntion of sickness almost overcame
her. The arm was not broken. but in
failing she had severely bruised it. She
raked her left hand then, and pressed
it ngninst that side of her brow from
which the dull intolerable throbbing
anguish seemed to be corning. As she
touched 1t. she winced and let the hand
falx again languidly to her side. She
saw then that there was blood upon ;t.
She was in great pain. She knew
that at least, though as yet she was so
benumbed in mind that the whole truth
had not come to her. She still stood
on the snore spot on the carpet. AS
though she had forgotten she could
move.
Init now her eyes hegnn in rnnm tmm
side to side. as if with returning mem-
ory. All at once they eoncentrnted
themselves on one (Neel; 11 was a mir-
tor: and in it she saw reflected what
firelight sense, memory. and an nhhnr•
rcnro of that memory, back to her with
a cruel rush.
She looked. and lonkrd again; letting
a hnrritie shnrne sink deep into her.
There the stood. revel -fled! The saint
teenier she hnd seen nn hour none. yet,
was 11 the snme? The ghnslly palter.
Ihnt ci hnsnn s're ak. the drill lark -lustre
eves. the rigid month. did she knew
rem? Iter hair had esenpr'd from 'ts
f 1 nings. hnd ronie undn,te. and was
h uizang in artistic ennfusfnn mond her.
It ceetuld to held in nn untidy frame
her s!rnnge, sharing free.
tl was n helmet portrait of a meet
been. woman! And to this he had
be light her!
A low moan broke from her. She put
use her hands as If to hide from her that
Flint/II senot+tnner of herself.
"Oh! (o1 have pity! Must i submit
to this d'gredntinn?"
After a little while. she made an of-
fer,. and bound tip in cane wise her loos-
ened hair; and sought to make herself
pr'.-ntnbhe ngfain. as women will. e'en
in their direst inure. Men call this
vanity; lint who shall say It is not an
honest virtue?
The expreesion nn her fees' was be-
ginning to chanps as n fuller cnneeinius.
nese grew en her. The dulnese. the
apathy. dienpp, nre.T, and every feature
t(•gnn to nscnme n look of hard and
unflinching hatred. terrible le ser in
one so young, so gentle. As remem-
brance become perfected, so, toxo, this
deadly loathing gained vigor. She
raised the hand on which lay the stain
of blood, and her eyes fastened then -
selves upon it with a sort of tigerish
rage. This dainty, petted creature, who
in her old home, poor as it was, had
never known what it was to huve a
wish thwarted, was now the legal prey
of a brute, who treated her as ho would
teerlaimly not dare to treat any other
human thing.
She sank upon a lounge and crouch-
ed there, immovable, with dark eyes
staring before her into an unseen 'u-
ture. The old resignation, the gentle
patience, was all gone front her. Gone,
teo, was the soft girlishness that had
[ren ane of her cltiefest charms. She
looked haggard, and years older—quits
a woman.
The hands that used to rest in her
leisure moments in a pretty idleness up -
en tier knees, were now firm and tense;
the right one was clenched, and with
the knuckles of Il she kept rubbing the
palm of the other, up and down, up and
clown ceaselessly in a slow, curious
fashion. She was thinking.
Her thoughts all ran in one groove.
That sooner or later there carie an end
to all things. One day there would
Dome an end to Francis Vereker. Odd-
ly enough she had ceased to believe that
be would do her to death, either through
wrong or actual physical ill -usage. It
seemed as though he was the one to
die.Shee had survived thisis last
brutal
treatment of his; she could still think.
move, feel; there was no reason tint
she should not survive another, nay, a
hundred such. Life was evidently ter-
ribly, remorselessly, strong within her.
There was no escape that way. But
he, he would gol Things when they came
to the worst always mended, and, there -
fere. as matters lay, he was the one
bound to sink into the grave. Death
was waiting for him. so she devoutly
prayed. honied—bellevcdl
The idea had a fascination for her.
She began even to picture her life as it
would be when he was no longer there
Ic darken 11. In this strange wild fit
that was on her—when all the decent
womanhood in her had been outraged,
affronted—when she had been crushed
and bruised and beaten as might a dog
—she longed for revenge. She telt as
though she cnuld hardly be satiated, n4)4
mutter what form vengeance took. She
saw the coming life—without him—that
she hoped for, anti with n passionate
sense of freedom threw wide her arms.
Ohl the joy of It—the exultation! To
know him gone—for ever. Her tyrant
lnwered. removed, laid in the very dust.
11 was impossible that she should not
1lve M Fee 11! Surely she should not
die until she hnd "seen her desire up-
on her enemy."
She was still crouching. hurt, end
spent. and fierce. like some wounded
nnimnl. when the footman flung open
the door and announced—"Mr. St.
John."
CIIAPTER XXVII.
The door had closed again, and the
man had disappeared before St. John
quite understood that something had
gond terribly wrong with her. She
raised her head and looked al hien, but
teyond that effort made no attempt In
greet him. Ile cans horrified at the
change in her.
'lite blood -streaked forehead, the large
dark eyes, the deadly pallor of the face
all shocked him; but what was worse
than all, was the cruel calmness, the
sternness that seemed to difienuro the
young face.
.A sharp cry escaped him as he went
quickly up to her. \\'as this Cecil?--
tlie gentle, pretty, fragile creature whom
he loved. Phis! Ile felt half nlnd, and
n terrible imprrention fell from his lips.
"What has that Dolt been doing to
you?" he said presently.
"Not quite enough." returned she,
with n bitter smile. "After all, you ser,
be has faded again. It is mnrvellnus
how long life will slily in one. Misery
will rot kill. nor brutality. Don't Inok
se: distressed, 1 assure you 1 was seldom
mere oliva to everything than i am nt
this moment."
"Cecil—" he began.
"We cannot talk here." She Inter-
rupted him In quick. cold way. "Other
people may mine in. If 1 could get In
me own room." --she paused—without
meeting the servants. 1 tnean. 1 can't
have them know,—nt least, not until
they must,"
"Well, reeve." snid he.
"Go to the door and see it nnynne is
in the hall." She seemed quite collect-
ed and eeld, ns If turned into stone.
"Cnme." he snid artnin.
"1 much flr:t gel rid of Ih+S;' said she,
tonehing the \•oiind upon her forehead.
from wieeh the blend was Still slowly
nnzing. "At env tarn of the stnhrence
nor' of them might nppenr. Gond ilea-
t'rno' has there not been humilialen
enough?"
When she had wonted nwny the blond
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It makes them plump, rosy, active, happy.
It contains Cod Liver Oil, Hypophosphites
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and so put together that it is easily dusted
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she went quickly to the door, passed
St. Jotur almost as if she did not see
him, and ran In a quick, yet firm, way
up the brad staircase to her boudoir.
She gained it unseen by any of the do-
mestics, and standing on the hearthrug,
acknowledged that tact by a high ct
relief:
St. John fclluwed slowly. Nis blood
was boiling and there was a feeling of
such deviflsh hated In his heart as
seemed to r.umb him. Ile felt all ut
once as 1f the knowledge of good and
evil had failed hire, as 1f he knew only
Ilia evil, and as if that were the only
real good. A longing to destroy was
full Upon him.
"Look here," he said. Ile benched her
shoulder to rouse her --to gain her at-
tention—but she neer moved. "I.istein
to nee," he said again. Sl:e raised iter
eyes for a moment.
"That night when he thrust you out
--you remenrher?- -and you cattle to ine.
De you remember?"
"Yee. Go on." She spoke wilts apa-
thy, and yet with a vague touch of int -
pa tienoe.
"That night," he went on deliberate-
ly, "I was tempted to say to you some-
thing that I refrained from saying (al-
though 1 confess the temptation was al-
most too strong for me), pimply because
1 thought lite idea that filled me would
germ you. Now 1 think differently. 1
de, not hesitate to say now all that was
hi my mind that night, "Iiecause 1 refuse
to believe that. any man has the right
to keep you here and subject you to—to
such indignity."
ile paused, and she looked at him
again; Ibis time steadily, and without
(lowering her eyes.
"What are you going to say?" she
asked slowly,
"Will you come away with me?' \\'ill
you leave this brute's house? Will you
trust yourself entirely to me?'
She half rose from her seat.
"Wail!" said he, quickly, "there is
more to be said. In time you would get
your divorce, and then It would be--"
_ She put up her hand, and by a prernp-
tory gesture checked hie.
"Don't go on," she said. "1 under-
stand all that you would stay, all that
you have said, but It Is useless."
"Yon are angry with me perhaps.
now," " aid hecalmly.
.
1ul if would
d
hear all there is to be—""Do not mistake me," interrupted she.
"I fully comprehend the nature of your
proposal. but I am deed to all shame—
lo all emotion 1 think, because I feel
no anger towards you, or indeed any-
one. That night to which you allude I
might perhaps have listened to you,
but not now. T shall not leave this, i
shall stay on here—until the end!"
"The end! Until lee kills you, you
meant"
"He will not kill me." Her voice was
low and curiously penetrating. "No; I
shall not dle,"'ihe went on, leaning fpr.
ward, as, it seeing something on the p-
posite well. "All the world may die.
but 1 shall not—until-----" She paused
abruptly. "1 cannot explain it to you,'
she went on: "1 cermet explain it to
myself. but soa:ethtne here," !eying her
fiend upon her heart. "tells me that if
per were to strike me to the earth again
end again. if he were In do his best to
murder nue. slill I should live. No; it
Ls noti who shall die."
"\\'too. then?" asked he. invohminrily.
ITer whole tone was suggestive. not only
of her belief in her own exemption from
death, but of the rertninly of another's
being nbliced in succumb in it.
"He will!" She spoke with n ner•vniis
bet gond and eager nssuranee. "Don't
ask me to explain that either: I can't:
bel I knew that he will die. and soon
—soon r' She threw out her hands. 'Ohl"
cried she, "Hew cnn it be soon enough?"
A strong shudder ran through her.
"1' is not Just that T should stiffer /11 -
ways!" elle sold. her vnhce new nearly
a whisper. "Ffo will die---die—and
then--"
St. John fell his henrt grew mid. ife
went quickly up to her. ile knev she
was half delirfouee nnrl he could not
hear to see her slender flaure crnueh-
Ing there. with the small hands clench-
ed. and ihnt terrible expression of ex-
l:Didinn nn her drnth-like fere.
"11 is all dr'nm-work; do not dwell
nn 11," he snid. with aeltinl entreaty.
"It le not. T am nwnke. 1 feel ns if
I shouted never ghee again. And i tell
you whnt 1 Fav is Inst'.' She caas grow.
Ing excited new. "1 don't knew when
the knowledge first came to mee but i
think 11 was when he sled over me.
with his hnnd elenehed to strike—nr
else when he had slrark. and was leek-
ing down at his work—T rennet be
sure"—she broke off confusedly. and
pressed her hand le her brew—"but
seenethfng In his faee then told me 1
should be tree—snfe—nlnner
She rose to her feet and began In
Tome. the room: presently she swnyel
n little. as if faint. hill when he would
have caught her she waved Min nside.
"If he dies. will you marry me?" she
said.
"Don't talk like that." excinimcd he,
sharply. "iia.! as he Is. i rnnm bear
yeti to speak thus of hi< b nth."
"Ah! you hesitate—you evade the
question. Will you marry Woe?" cried
she. nhslinnlely. iter Line wee nlmnct
fleece: she came closer le him. "Answer
me'' she said. "No. do not leech me;
r,nly speak. spent:. 1 will have an an.
sweet or Ls 11 thnt you. len----"
"Do not sny tint." interrogntel he.
"You knew vett don't think 11. You know
that you (rust me. if -1f your husband
were In die. what thing Ls there null
ennld keep me from you?" She sighed
hrnvily. "Go In goer room and try to
gel stone sleep." said SI. John gently,
sexing imbed that n reaction had set in,
and that she was once again on the
verge of imenneetoueness.
"1'ce. Go," she avid, faintly. "Go
away. T want In be nlene."
"And you will le down? Prnmlce
one that. Shall i send Dorothy to you?"
"Oh. nn. 1 will have nnhody here.
nal even her. Now go!" She pressed
him nwny from her peevishly, and, af-
ter n last entrenly ne Iwo that she
would try to strep, he left her.
(To be continued.)
HOPEFUL.
Harold : 'Papa, s hen 1 gm\• up, can
tt marshy."'
My neon, do not let us anticipate the
wow
The arm
PttUN1NG FOR BUSINESS.
In setting out apple trees the ques-
Lon of long or high heading seeing to
to an open one, writes Mr. F. 11. Fas-
sett. I have practised the medium
height. I think soluo varieties should
be headed higher than others, for in-
stance, Spy and Baldwin and other up-
right growers should bo quite low, while
Greening, Bellik,wer and other spawn-
ing varieties should be higher as they
have a tendency to droop. The amount
cf icp left op at time of selling should
to regulated largely by the roots; if a
large part of tlte.se have been broken
off by diggng a considerable amountet
top should be cut off.
In shaping the trees one should not
try to shape all alike, 11 he does it will
surely end iq disappointment, because
ono cannot successfully make (ho top
of a Spy and that of a Greening alike.
They are entirely different in growth.
The Spy should be kept from growing
toe thick in the centro and induced to
spread out while the Gi1.'ening and
other sprouting varieties should Oe
trained more upright. Limbs shooting
straight up should be avoided as they
will rob the other parts of the tree anti
when allowed to grow will spoil Die
Tree. A little attention each year, cut-
ting limbs that cross and thinning when
too thick will enable you to grow a tree
natural in forst and in best possible
shape for good results.
The time to trim is subject to a good
many different opjpions. 1 have prac-
tised trimming as early in the spring
ns all danger of severe freezing is past.
Some reeourmend trimming when trees
are in blossom, but this has its objec-
liens. In early spring ene has more
time, hence 1 can recommend 11. I
think the wound heals best at this time
of the year. All limbs should be cut
souaro off, commencing as close to the
the upper
side as
tree aspossible on
s o
n
it mnkes a steelier slob and heals bet-
ter Than when nut with the body of the
tree. It it becomes necessary 10 remove
large limbs the stubs should be covered
with paint or grafting wax, but with
careful pruning each year K will not te
necessary to cut many large limbs.
i am a firm believer in cultivating
nrchards. sn 1 triol with this In view.
it Is surprising what low trees one can
cultivate under. There are several ob-
jects which should be kit In mind.
When pruning we should aim to cut
enough to keep the tree healthy„to ad-
mit sunshine and light that the apples
may color up alike. There seems to be
n tendency on the part of some grow -
ere in commence on the lrside and trim
off all small limbs and fruit spurs, turn-
ing up the limbs until they resemble n
lion's tail, leaving th' brush ends thick
and thus forcing the fruit all nn ends
of branches. This makes a leverage
which breaks down many valuable
trees. I saw an orehnrd trimmed this
way In our county. It Was loaded with
fruit. but nearly 1:1 of the trees had large
limbs broken down, thereby causing a
lasting injury to the orchard.
My method is to cut out all limbs
that cross each other, avoid breaking
er cutting small limbs, fruit spurs or
large limbs as here you will find some
of the finest specimens, then thin the
limbs on the outside by cutting off
small limbs, letting in the sunlight and
forcing the fruit in toward the body
where the tree is able to bear the enorm-
ous weight when in pull crap. This
in some instances will weigh from one
and one-half to two tons. 1 keep the
top clipped har+ a little each year so
as to prevent gelling too high. A
low tree Ls much easier to pick or trim
and on the whole much to be preferred.
Oneof the best tools and an almost in-
dispensable one is the regular pruning
saw coling from 50 cents to 81.50. This
in the hands of nn melee nese who is
not afraid to climb makes a good com-
bination. i here used some of tine long
handled pruners. They have their place
fei culling small limbs and clipping
back the top, but are very lined to work
nil day. A light slip ladder Is very
useful. In the case of an old orchard
whi'h lied been neglected for years. 1
wntld advise to go slow the first year.
itemove the dead limbs and the stickers,
then by thinninu a little each yenr, the
trees may be brought to the proper
shape.
PIAS AND OATS FOR EARLY Fi:ED.
There is mol a better crop to put in
fel early (reeling, or when the fields
give scant promise for hay than peas
and oats. No crop can be put in cast-
e-- or earlier. F.r,t sow the peas broad-
cast over the ground, allowing a bushel
o the acre it the soil is rich, more if
poor, and plow under 4 or 5 Inches. As
soon as the peas begin to cone up,
broadcast the oats, using the same
amount, then drag in, going Leath ways.
\\ hen the oats are in boom, cid and
cure as you tweed clover. They cnn
be used for green feed If desired, coin-
ing at a tune when lei -shire begins to
be short. There Ls nothing bitter for
snitch cow's, unless 11 is green alfalfa.
1f after putting in the barn the peas
shell out, 11 has been found that mix•
ing them with any kind of chaff makes
n Zine feed for hens end hags. They
will, %viten fed in this way. furnish
plenty •of exercise for Itte hens.
RATION FOR MILK.
11 Is generally believer!, with very good
renson, That a ration cnnsisting of a
cerinin poortieen of succulent runner Is
ne•e-spry fir the most eronomical pro-
duction of milk and butter. This is usu.
ally supplied in the form of silage, roots,
fresh brewers' grains, or (iriel brewers'
grains moistened to a spongy consis-
tency. Corn silage is undoubtedly the
cheapest; that is, it will bring the greet -
eat return al ike least rest. 1lnnte are
greatly relished. conducive to geed
health and stimulnting the flow of milk,
but are quite cepensise to raise. Wet
brewers' grains. If drawn daily. fresh
horn the brewery. cnn be fed without
seriously affeeting the quality of intik
or butler. The welting of dried grains
is sometimes done, with good success,
NIGHT
PAINT
To
PAINT
NIGHT
PAINT RIGHT:
And do it cheaply too, becaue• they're the
purest and bat in the way of paint mak-
ing. They outlast cheap paints and cost
leas to put on—consequently are n,oney-
savers end time-savers. Your dealer will
tell you the pnee, and It isn't high if you
want a good job.
Write us for Post Card Series "C,”
showing how some houses are painted.
A. RAMSAY & SON CO.
Paint Makers
MONTREAL.
E+st'd 184.2.
GO
sciaacilMa
If fed with reasonable care. Fresh beet
pulp is hard to handle in the natural
state, quick to change and to be render-
ed unlit for feeding, That it can only be
used by farmers in the iminediate vi-
cinity of beet sugar factories.
HUNTING THE FUR SEAL
REWARD OF PERILS UNDERGONE IS
VERY SMALL.
Great Dangers Run by the Hunters
From Newfoundland and
Labrador.
This has been a hard season with the
sealers on the East coast, both those from
Newfoundland and those from Labrador.
There have been heavy gales, and the ice
has canoe down from the north In such
largo masses as to bo difficult to escape.
One Newfoundland steamer, the Green-
land, 1 and aro enter-
tained
n r
Was been lost n fears to -
tained for smaller crafts which have not.
returned. The method of conducting the
hunt is thus described by a Quebec cor-
respondent of The .,ew York Sun :
Thet amount of seal life destroyed by
the Labrador hunters does not begin to
compare in volume with the Jesuit of
tho Newfoundland hunt. Ne•rsrtheless a
crew of eight men have been known to
kill five or six hundred seals in a couple
of hours.
Much depends upon the opportunity
offered of taking the animals by sur-
prise. When a large herd is seen upon
an ice field the men, who usually num-
ber from eight to twelve on a schooner,
take to a small boat and get as near as
possible to the part of the floe where the
seal aro basking, especially If that is the
side nearest to the water.
It still unperceived, they crawl upon
their hands and knees, and spare no
effort to gel close up to the held without
being seen. Then the slaughter begins.
KILLING TIIE SEALS.
Each man Is armed with a stout slick,
six to ten feet long, and seal after seal
is struck on the nose with the weapon.
A slight blow suffices to fracture the
skull and kill the young animuts, and
many of the others are stunned and dis-
abled, while the hunters hurry on to
stun as many more of the sherd as pos-
sible before they can make their escape
into open water.
Then the hunters' knives are produced.
The skin with the adhering fut Is rapidly
delimited from tho carcass, which is left
on the ice. The ice is soon stained with
blond and dotled with the skinless car-
cases of the slain. _
"Tho shivering seals' low moans" fill
Pie air. The whimpering cry of the baby
seals has a remarkable resemblance to
the sobbing or whining of an infant in
pain. Wherever there are openings in
the ice the mother seal: are seen pop-
ping up their heads looking for their
offspring.
The great nine of the hunter; Is to get
among the "vhilecoals," as the young
harp seals are called in their babyhood,
when yet fel by their mother's milk and
while they are powerless to escape. 'The
on then extrartett from the blubber is of
n !Hitch finer quality than tlial obtained
from the full-grown seals.
These ordinary seals of the gulf, com-
monly known as harp or Greenland
seals, are perfectly defenceless. Not so,
however, the hood seal, which is fre-
quently mel with Ilse others.
TIIE IIOOD SEAL.
The hood Is much larger than the
harp. The male, called by the hunters
the dog flood, Is distinguished from the
female by a singular hood or bag of flesh
011 his nose. When attacked or enraged
he inflates this hoed so as to cover the
face and eyes, and it is strong enough to
resist seal shot.
'When thus protected he can only be
killed by shooting h'ni in the neck and
the base of the skull. The dog hood
tights desperately in defence of his male
and young ores, and if they are killed
he becomes furious, inflates his hood and
rushes on his foe. Instances have oc-
curred in which a fight between an o1:1
dog hood and five or six men has lasted
for an hour, and sometimes a hunter is
seriously hurt and even killed in the en-
counter.
The greatest danger to these hunter:,
however, is that of being caught with
their vessels in the embrace of the ice
giants of the gulf. Raft upon raft of bro-
hen fragments of the ice fields is piled
up sometimes fifty feet high, and often
In the course of leinding snowstorms
these are dashed Upon one another.
Little can be expected to remain of the
vessel caught between these enormous
masses of ice.
In one year a hundred Newfoundland-
ers lost their lives Ir. this manner, fifty of
thein going down in a single sailing ves-
sel, the huntsman. Two other steamers
were thus caught in the ice in 1896, and
• he Arctic
similar fate befell t
irt]901as
steamer hope, on board of which Conan
Doyle had been a surgeon and which
had brought horse the meteorite firnn
Cape York. The crew, after suffering
great hardships, were rescued by the
steamer Greenland, which shared her
fate last month.
The reward of all the perils undergone
is very small. The members of a crew
dtvide their profits equally, and these
often do not exceed 8200 for the season,
trough formerly the average was at least
$100. Seal oil, which was formerly
worth 80 cents a gallon, now sells at
from 30 to 35 cents, and there has -also
been a falling off in the value of skins,
which are chiefly made into leather and
are worth about a dollar apiece.
Their grey or pepper and salt colored
ter is by no means unsightly. and they
may become more valuable soon, as
srt,i':e have recently been made up jnto
winter overcoats, which retail in Que-
bec for about 850, or one-tenth the price
of Alaska seal.
PICNIC PARTY I%iPRLSONED.
White Men on holiday Trip Assailed by
Basuto Tribesman.
A remarkable incident occurred in
Basutoland recently. A picnic party
decided to make a trip into the Basuto
country, which they entered by a pass
known as the Luhl, ingubo, en the Natal
frontier, and encamped for the night in
n cave In the Drakensdterg.
Proceeding on their journey the fol-
lowing day, they asked a native to el -
feet them to cave: in which they could
Take their midday meal. The Basuto
appears to have given information el
their presence, for toward evening the
party was intercepted by a number of
natives. the old mein who appeared to
be in charge carrying a gun. The, Eu-
ropeans were then arrested, accused of
being "while mens spies," and taken
t, a place which had the appearance of
a mountain stronghold beneath an o' -
hanging cliff.
Here the visitors' horses were turned
astray, and the headman. telling them
that they would not be allowed to re-
enter Natal. signified that they would
have to continue without their horses,
and would have to carry their saddles.
After a night spent under surveillance
111 a cave, the Basulos maintaining n
close watch upon (heir captives, the
party mace their escape by means of :i
shalageue in which they %were assisted
t y their Basuto guide, who helped them
to capture the horses and lid them back
to the pass by which They had entered.
After a furious ride in Iho darkness,
the precipitous nnlirre of the country
leading to several exciting adventures,
the party reached the Natal side early
cn the niorning niter (heir escape, Ihor-
ni'ghty spent and unnerved.
Reformed Cannibal—"I
v. lns."
SOlbETIItN. 10 Ito t'+1
ma) be bldg.., na:t IV!! 1
OF.
British blood in my
TO COMBAT THE GAMORRA
�I:IIiE1' SOCIETY 15 TIIE FONT OV
ITALIAN I:ItIME,
Goeernnienl Takes Drastic Measures to
Itid the Country of Criminal
Orgauliations.
4 butch of arrests recently trade in
Naples illustrates the extremes to which
tho Italian authorities often have to go
t., combat the Camorra and other crust.
nal organizations, of which the Malik._
Nand bands in this country are only
feeble imitation. The occurence which
lea up to the arrests took place last
June. It was a double murder in Naples.
A young roan named Cuocolo, who
was supposed to bo a follower of the
t:anlorra of the humblest grade, was en-
ticed out to the Torre del Greco and
stabbed to death. His body was covered
with wounds in the usual way of sucll
"executions." When the body was taken
heene it was t. and that his wife had
teen murdered too, stubbed to death in
Um saute manner.
Such investigation ns was made
showed that the two murders had taken
place simultaneously, and all the signs
of a Camorrist plot were apparent. 'the
local police promptly dropped the case.
It luny here bo said that the arrests tint
have been made were not only unknown
to them, but greatly to their displeasure.
The central Government at honis upper -
1.1111 nottco of the crimt ill.
'1'•o t!have uredonn even an inquiryes ofathe
Neapolitan police would have rendered
detection Impossible. It was determined,
however, that an effort should bo made
le capture the criminals.
Ten members of the Carabinieri, a
highly trustworthy, courageous ant
trained body of men, were detailed andel
a captain to the case. They were ordered
to disguise themselves as tramps—hie
zaroni—and drift into Naples. They
were ordered to lake up a life of crista,
and promised immunity for anything
they might do short of murdering re-
spectable citizens, so long as they got
next to the chiefs of the Camorra. in
accordance with the programme, they
snarled a career of sneak thieving and
highway robbery. Some of them were
arrested. In the prisons they met mem-
bers of the Canton -a and made friends
with. thein. They were initiated, and
showed themselves so proficient and en-
thusiastic in the malavita That they were
taken into the favor of the chiefs. Then
the arrests were made.
MANY IMPLICATED.
There are twenty prisoners charged
with the murder of Cuocolo and his wife.
They include the chief and the secret tri-
bunal of the Camorro, the authorities
say, besides the men who actually com-
mitted the murders. 'The most notable
prisoner Ls said to be one Toledo, one of
the showiest frequenters of the Neapoli-
tan theatres and cafes, and driver of the
finest equipage on the Corso. He is
known in the Honorable Society—the
oMalTtcialndrierenai.l e of the Cumorra—as "114x`
ha started In life as a cattle driver,
driving oxen to the slaughter houses.
Then ho became a butcher himself. Get-
ting into the malavlla he made and saved
money and became a sort of criminal
capitalist. this ostensible purpose was
lending money at usury, but he was be-
sides receiver -general of stolen goods for
art the crooks in Naples. The murder of
the Cuocolas was instigated by hire on
account of a denunciation to the police,
which they had made in a fit of pique at
some wrong he lied done them. it was
regularly decreed nfler a form of trial—
by the secret tribunal of the Contemn,
and was carried out by some of its
sworn agents.
Extraordinary„ developments as to
ramifications of the society are expected
id the trial.
KEEI'ING IT DARK.
Perhaps the most unpopular men In
the regiment was Captain Martinet ; but,
et the sante time when Private Tomkins
caught sight of hire floundering In >,
swift -running river he forgot old scorns,
divested himself of his toric, and sprang
into 11►e water to his rescue.
It was a difficult task, but eventually
ho managed to bring the gasping, helt-
dead oUlcer in safety to lite river -bank.
"'Tompkins," he said in tones of grati-
tude, \Olen he had rcmverel, "you've
saved my life. flow can 1 show hew
much 1 appreciate your action?"
"That's all right. sir," said Tnrnpkins.
"Don't say anything about it. that's all
I ask—'specially not In the other fellers."
"But why not?" asked the astonished
captain.
"Well. sir. If they get to know 1 pulled
yer out of the river they'll chuck me in 1"
TOLD\VIiAT 1T WAS.
"Now, sir, 1 hope we shall have nO
difficulty in getting you to speak up,"
said the barrister, In a very loud, cern-
mantling voice.
"1 hope not, sir," should the witness,
at the lop of his lungs.
"Ilow dare you speak to me in That
way ?" cried the lawyer.
"Itecnuse I can't speak no louder, sir,"
said the ostler.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Yes. air."
"I Mould infer so Leon your conduct.
\\int have you leen drinking?"
"Coffee," hoarsely roc iternled the
knight of the stelae.
"Something shr,nger Ilinn rr,ffee, sir,
you've been drinking! Don't hook at me
!do Ihnl.. sir 1" furiously. "Look ,it the
jury, sir 1 I)id you
your cello.. sir 1''
"Yee. Els"
"Whet was it?"
"Sugar."
"fire man 1.4 no fool, my lord ho Is
\terse t" stormed thecouneel.
"New, sir," ---burning to lite witrrrs_s—
"l,ok at ate. What bale sugar did you
lake in your coffer flee morning?'
'i he tastier collected Se, tomes, drew a
doep bre'olh, anti, ilia )etre that could
have been heard hall a .nine, away, bel-
loaeA out :--
"A spune 1 A seen, sea' lwtkiu' else r
have something in
1