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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1885-10-22, Page 6Life's Chivalry. BY ARTHUR L. SALMON. Where, in the busy city's care and strife, Its thirst for riches, and its toll for bread, Is found that soul of chivalry in lite, Which some are mourning for as truly dead ? Shall we seek for it in the forest glade ; In hoary dim cathedral, gray with age, In chancel where the mailed knights are laid With rusted lance, no further war to wage ; In mould'ring castle, or in ivied tower, Where pomp and pageantry were wont to be? Ah, no l But yet the ancient spine's power Is with ue, and las form, if we would see, To labor cheerfully from hour to hour, To do good graciouel, is chivalry. A TERRIBLE TRAGEDY, By the Author of "Timm FLOWER GIRL," "LOVELY LADY LYNIItRST," CHAPTER VIII.—(Co iniac.) They had reached the old churchyard now, ,and leaning on the los white gate, Geraldine pointed to the further side, w here a granite pillar stood out conspieouely from among the other surrnuading tombs. At its base a figure crouched, and it was this which had attracted Mise Mainwaring'e attention. "Percy" she said slowly, "it is amurder- eas drawn towards the spot which conceals her victim. Percy, I must go 1 Heaven has directed my footatepa here to -day. Nay"—as he made a step forward by her side--" stay here ! 1 would go alone. What I have to say must be sain to her alone." Mr, Braithwaite regarded hie cousin with some degree of apprehension, She wan strangely excited, and he saw that it would be usele:a to attempt to thwart her ; to he wisely agreed to let her have her own way. "Very well," he said calmly. "I wile re- main here, as you wish it ; only make your interview as ahort as portafble.' He pulled out a cigar and proceeded .eiawreiy to I ght it, whilst hie couain went Swiftly forward, her footatepa making no sound on the short velvety grass, her skirts trailing behind her noiaeleealy. Within a few feet of the monument erect- ed to the loving memory of Barry Clifford Braithwaite she paused undecidedly. The kneeling figure had not moved. So quiet was it that for one terrible moment Geral- dine fancied it was lifeless, The head was ',eves forward and rested onthe cold granite, so that no glimpse of the features wan ob. ;,amebic, "She is guilty, or why does alio come here; It is remorse which brings her," :ierteldiee said to herself, and baedened her '.Dart against the airmen. "I know you, Dally Jarvis," she said aloud, in clear firm tones. "What are you doing here at hia grave ?" Then the bowed head was raised, and a face ao beautiful in all its deathly pallor was disclosed that Misa Mainwaring could not repreaa an exclamation of surprise. Yea, the sweet sensitive drooping lips, the beautiful eyes, the pure complexien the perfect features were the sante as of yore ; bet, instead of the sunny amflo, instead of the eyes brimming over with ntist:hief and mirth, they were filled with a great and mute despair. A despair so profound, au agony so intense was writte:e in every linea- ment of that lovely face that Geraldine was smitten dumb for the moment, Slow- ly the pained far-off look faded, and was re - 1 laced by one of recognition, as Dally began to comprehend ie whole) presence she stood. Then the faintest rose -flush dyed her wan ceeeks, and her lips parted, but no words earn , But Miss Maiuwaring had by this time i r some degree recovered herself. I am G :raldine Mainwaring," she said, once the betrothed of my cousin, who Ilea buried there," And it seemed that some inner force compelled her to speak almost against her will. " And you—you are his murderess 1' The last word was hissed into the kneel- ing girl's ears as she clutched her arm. Never would Geraldine forget the look which Dolly Jarvis cast upon her, so full of horror, amazement, and terror was it, Slowly she rose to her feet, and, stretching out her arms as if to ward off some cruel blow, with faltering steps and with ker eyes still fixed on her accuser, she moved slowly away, without uttering one word of exculpa- tionorof confession. And,strangely enough, Geraldine Mainwaring made no attempt to detain or follow her, or to wring the truth from her. Nay, as the small lithe figure elisappeared in the opposite direction to the gate by which Geraldine had entered, that young lady murmured in a softened voice— " Poor girl, she loved him too ! I will try to remember that ; and, if—if she has Sinn ed— ah me, her sufferings have been even gre iter than mine 1" " If !" It was singular that Geraldine should have admitted that " if"; and yet, in the face of the blank and hopeless despair written on Dolly Jarvis's countenance, in the face of her manner, which had Implied that she was guilty—or why should she not have refuted the charge brought against her ? —Mies Mainwaring felt leas assured of that fact than she had hitherto done. There was something pathetic in the sadness of that beautiful face, something that told rather of sorrow than of guilt. With a thoughtful look, Geraldine, after a few minutes spent by her lost lover's grave, slowly retraced her steps, her cousin's words persistently recurring to her. "It was of no use to rake up a scandal that could re- flect little credit on anyone concerned in it, and nothing could bring poor Harry back to life !" Well, perhaps, after all, he was right. She found Percy where she had left him. He hastened to open the gate for her as she approached ; and, as she p2ased through it, he glanced curiously at her ; but she was un- usually reticent. " Well?" he queried, finding that, woman though she was, she did not use her tongue for once. " Are you satisfied now, or—" " Quite satisfied. We will never speak on the subject again, Percy." "Agreed 1" the other said, quite cheer- fully, for he had some hopea of winning Geraldine himself in these days, and he had found a dead rival, in the shape of poor Harry, far more difficult to overcome than a living one could have been. CHAPTER IX. The girl crossed the room with faltering footsteps, and Dame and knelt beside Adam, where he sat in an old arm -chair, his eyes, unseeing, gazing out into the narrow street where the twilight shadows were faat deep ening. "What is it?' Adam repeated, as Dolly twined her arms around his knees, and laid her soft cheek against the toil hardened hand. " Miss Mainwaring is staying at the Hall," Dolly said, in a low voice. " I met her this afternoon, and—and she spoke to me." "Well?•' There was no sign of feelingin the carelessly -spoken mo n ceyllable;no one save Dolly perhaps could have guessed whatt it cost him to utter it, " Father, 1 are afraid—indeed I am a1- moat sure she suspects" "Ah r This time it sounded almost like a sob ; then, recovering himself instantly, he added—" Tell me what she said." "Oh, no, no, I cannot 1" the girl wailed passionately. " Only let us go away from this hateful place, Oh, father, it is killing us both 1" The hand which had been passing back- wards and forwards over the soft chesnut hair ceased its caressing motion, and Adam, lifting the fair face which the girl had hid- c'en en hie knees, gazed at it long and earnestly. "Yea," he said, at length, " you are right—it is killing us both. I have been selfish, Heaven forgive me—and cruel. That I should suffer is but just ; but that you—' " Nay, nay, do not reproach yourself. Yon were mad, and yes, I was mad too." " You are an angel '.' cried the old man fervently. "Oh, my child if aught could atone; but it oannot, it cannot 1 There is only one way open to me." "You mean that we must leave here ?" Dolly cried eagerly, "Yea, I must leave here." And, in her joy and gratitude, the girl never noticed the personal pronoun he employed. So they eat on in the gloaming, father and daughter, with the knowledge of a terrible secret between them, which yet could not destroy their love for one another. When St. Jude s presently struck nine, Adam started from the reverie into which he had fallen. "Go --leave me new, child; I have some preparations to make for the change we contemplate, It is getting late, and you moat be tired. Light the lamp, and then I would be alone." Dolly obeyed bis wiebes, and then came to his side. " Good night, father," she acid, stooping to kiss him, as was her wont, Ile drew her down until her head by on his breast. "Good night, my child ; may Heaven bless you 1 And remember, whatever hap- pens, I have done it for the best," And with those worda still echoing in her ears, holly Jarvis fell asleep that night, ing the ravages which grief had made in the young girl. Involuntarily she drew the comparleon between this scene and a simi- lar one in which she had hersolt figured five years ago. Then it had been a young man whose life had been cut off in the prime, mourned by the girl who should have been his wife, All the surroundings had spoken of wealth—the many waxen lights, the costly flowers, the rich perfumes, the polished oak coffin, with its brass plate and inscription. row it was a prematurely aged man whose only child refused to be comforted because he was no more. Here, if there was no actual display of poverty, there was none of the treppfnga which take away at leaat some of the horrors which must always attend death. A few half -blown monthly rosea lay on the c.ffin-lid, which was of plain deal covered with cloth ; the air was close and stifling, the solitary candle emitted a sickly light. Geraldine Mainwariog shuddered ; then she went unhesitatingly forward. "Dolly," she whispered softly, placing her cool hand on the girl's hot feverish ones, which lay tightly clasped in her lap— "Dolly," she repeated, "Ihave come to ask you in the presence of him—can you forgive me 1" Then, as once before, the girl raised her drooping head and gazed straight into Gar- ald(ne's eyes, " Forgive 1" she echoed, in a dazed tone. "Yea, I are sure he was forgiven at last; he suffered so—ah, how much 1 Poor fath er 1 And—and it was an accident. I can always say that truthfully—he never meant to do it." The sweet at It onn1eadinain look and tone touched Geraldine greatly ; her own eyes filled with tears. "I know—we all know—nom how It hap- pened," she said soothingly, "and we do not blame the dead," "Dead ! Yea, they cannot harm him now, can they?" Daily questloned fever- " He ever-"He said he would go away ; I had begged him to do so, I had told him I had seen you, but not what you said—ob, no, I would not hurt him by repeating that 1 But he kept his word, yon see, and he has gone away. 13yand-by I shall be glad per- haps ; but not now—not now 1" And then relief Dame in a burst of hysteri- cal tears, whioh may be saved poor Daily's reason. There had been an inquest the day before —in this as in that other case, five years ago --and it was then that Adam Jarvis's eon- fession had been read—a statement which he bad written during those silent hours when the angel with the sickle was already, unaeeneand unknown, hovering near him. Briefly explained, it amounted to this. Oa that eventful evening, when Captain Braithwaite had lost his life, Adana bad been returning from his wooing through the pine -wood, when, he had recognised hia daughter and the young ofeer talking to. nether. A few words which he over -heard and nlieconstruod, had led him to believe that the Captain had acted even a baser part than he had really done ; and, without preface or warning, the blacksmith had raised his mighty fist, and with one tremen- dous blow, had struck the betrayer of holly's affections. Attacked thus suddenly and unawarea, Captain Braithwaite made but a feeble re- siatance to his aeaailtnent, and in the strug- gle stumbled, and blipped over the precipice, while Adam, heeulcaa cf Dolly's wild cries, had stridden off, reckless of any injuries lir might have inflicted on the young cllicor, but hardly dreaming of the consequeaoea which had really attended what he termed the " drubbing he had given the rascal," He had grown nn-aey as the time aped, by, and Dolly did not make her appearance ; but, when she at length returned, and in a few heart -broken worda made her confession from beginning to end, he was horror-etrlok- en, A fearless man, poeseased of great strength, he became a coward at the vision of the hangman, and, in a moment of weak- ness, consented to carry out his daughter's suggestion, which was that the blame should be permitted to fall union her, No ono but herself know of Adam's presence at the in- terview whioh bad taken place between Dolly and her lover. The pine -wood was quite out of the blacksmith's way in going to and from Doctor Seymour's ; so "whim was hardly likely to fall upon him. "Having made our plans, I was compel- led to stand by them, ',Adam wrote "though many a time and oft, I felt I must confess the truth when I saw how my pretty lass was shunned and suepected. I had made up my mind that, if things went seriously agaioat Dolly at the inquest, I would have cleared her and given myself up, and even that open verdict, which seemed to cast a doubt on my poor lass, nearly made me do it; but I thought of the hangman, and remained silent." Then he went on to sty that life beta me a living death to him, that he shunned his neighbors, because he feared they would read his secret in' his guilty looks, and yet still more terrible was solitude; whilst even Dolly's presence, once so dear to him, seem- ed to bean everlasting reproaeh. But it was Misa Mainwaring he feared moat. In- stinct told him that she who had loved the dead man with a great and deep-seated pas- sion, would never rest until she had discov- ered the truth, So he had come to the con- clusion that she would no longer fight against fate.' • Dolly who had been an angel to him, who, while abhoring the sin, had yet loved and pitied the sinner so greatly, should have her innocence publicly declared. She lad begged him to go away—well, he would go tomorrow ; he would give himself up to justice. It seemed strange that he should have written this confession when about to pro- claim the truth is his own person—perhaps he thought it was' less painful to break his intelligence first in this fora, or maybe the shadow of the dark messenger was already with him, Some instinct, sure, but unde- fined, may have warned him that, if atone• meat were to be made, it must be done quickly. Ah; Heaven had dealt mercifully with Adam Jarvis, after all 1 The contemplation of that"giving himself np" had been too mach. for him. He had "gone away" in the dark solemn night ; but Death had been his companion. The verdict that he had died of disease of the heart was true enough, for his heart had been slowly but surely breaking ever since that terrible moment when he had realised that his hand had deatroyed a fel- low -being. , 9 " , . 1 In the early dawn rf the summer's morn, old Sae, entering the little parlour, was startled to see the blaekamith sitting in his "favourite arm -chair beside the table. His head had fallen forward upon his breast, his hand still grasped the pen with which he had sigued his name for the last time. With ren ego nation of surprlse, which was quickly turned indtorror, Saaan hasten - o3 forward. One touch of the cold nerve. lose hand, one glance into the wide stariug eyes, revealed too pltiinly the fact—Adam Jarvis was dead 1 For the 1iie of her the old woman could not auppreaa the cry of mingled horror and grief which escaped her as the dreadful truth dawned upon her. " Now Heaven have mercy on me 1" she sobbed. "Alae that I should have lived to see this day ! and my bonnie bairn left fatherless as well as motberleas 1 It will kill her, too, poor tender heart ! How shall I break it to her ? Ah me, I cannot tell her 1 She must not know—not yet. I'll just send for the doc- tor when t'forge is opened; he's a kind. hearted man, and '11 know what to say better'n a poor creature like mysel', And— yes,of course ; I wonder I didn't think of that first—Tom Larkins—he'll do it beat of of all. He'll be 't work soon, and I'll keep quiet till then, and maybe the child will not be roused afore." But, even as she thus soliloquised, there was a fluttering of light feet down the stairs, and Susan had barely time to make her exit from the room and shat the door behind her, keeping one hand on the handle, before she found herself standing face to face with Dolly—Dally looking ao ghastly and weird in the pale dawn that old Sue, whose nerves had received a great shock, had much ado to keep herself from crying out again. " Lor', mise," she managed to gasp, " what a turn you've give me 1 What is 't that has brought you down so early, and— and not dressed too ?"—for Dolly had only a loose wrapper thrown over her night-dress. " You'll catch your death of cold, child, standing there with nothin' on. Take my advice and go back to bed at once before you get a chill." But Dolly took no heed of this warning. On the contrary, she came a step nearer and laid her hand impressively on Sue's brown, bony, bare arm. " You are trying to deceive me," she said calmly ; " but it is useless. Where is my father—and what—has—happened ?" The words dropped out singly, and, before Susan could recover her scattered wits sufficiently to answer, Dolly had gently pushed her on one side and entered the room behind her. Then indeed the old wo- man sprang forward, but too late. Already Dolly had raised the bowed head and pil- lowed it on her arm. Not a tear did she shed, not a cry did she utter ; only the beautiful eyes were filled with piteous en- treaty as she asked, in a half-frighteued whisper— "What is it? Has he fainted ?" Is he ill ? ' " Hear her ! Ah, Heaven save us all, but she never guesses he is dead !" ejacul- ated Susan, unconscious that she was speak- ing aloud. Dead ?" repeated Dolly, in a bewildered tone. " Oh, no, not dead 1 We—he and I—arranged it all last night—to go away somewhere together. Yes, yes ; he will be better when we have left Midhurst, and we shall be happy once more—poor father and In the poor little darkened room, with a solitary tallow candle, Dolly Jarvis jeal- ously kept watch beaide her dead father, Three days had come and gone since that terrible morning when she had come down only to find that she was an or- phan, that Adam had indeed made his preparations, and had left the scene of so much happiness and, alas, misery also, for ever ! During this space of time the girl had never broken her fast ; old Susan's tear- ful entreaties and Tom Larkin's had been alike unavailing, Her beauty had alwey been of the fragile order, now it was almost ethereal. So at least thought a visitor who entered unannounced and stood in the chamber of death, silently and sorowfully contemplat- " Oh, fattier, 1 wish you'd be persuaded by me to leave this place ! Let ns go away somewhere where we are not known. I am Rare you would be happier." Dolly'a voice was tremulous ; but there was no mistaking the eagerness with which she awaited the old man's reply. "Happier?" he repeated, in a tone of mockery. " As if that were possible 1 As if anything could make my life other than a hideous burden 1 But," he went on quickly, as he regarded his daughter with keen scrutiny, "you have heard something ?" and his face reflected some of the anxiety and terror so plainly depicted on Dolly's wan features. " Yes," the girl answered slowly, "I have heard something." " Ah !' Adam's brow contracted, and he drew his breath heavily; then he asked, still outwardly calm —" What is it ?" THE HOUSEHOLD. Hints. The ting red ants which are such a nui- sance in many pantries may be easily driven away if kerosene is freely used. Those who have been troubled by them know that they always come in linea, coming through some crevice in the wall or floor, and following one after the other, in regular order, until they reach the shelf above. If kerosene is turned the entire length of this lino, also on the place where they come in, the floor, etc., they will soon depart. You may need to repeat this a few times, but it is an easy and effectual method of getting rid of them. Leave the door and windows open awhile and the scent of the kerosene will aoon be gone, If your flatirons trouble you by dropping black specks from the top or sides when ironing, take them in a pan of soapsuds and give them a thorough washing, and dry quickly, to prevent rusting. Paper gage, in whioh many articles are sent from the grocery stores, should be sav- ed for use when blacking a stove. You can slip the hand into one of these and handle the brush just as well, and the hand will not be soiled at all, and when through with them they can be dropped into the stove being much preferable to the cloth bag or mitten, which requires frequent washing, To make lamp -chimneys look beautifully clean, wash them in warm soap -suds, turin scalding water over them, wipe dry with a soft cloth, and rub with a piece of newspa- per. This will give a nicer polish than Dan Windows way.�i ow b - ci be in cher obtained an treated in the same way will be found to look muck nicer than if simply wombed and rinsed, To take ink stains oat of table cloths, napkins, etc., put the article to soak imme- diately fn thick soar milk, changing the milk as often as necesaary. A few drops of hartshorn put into a little water will clean a hair brush nicely, If very dirty use alittle soap also. After clean- ing, ranee in clean water, tie a string to the handle, and hang up to dry, Choke Recipes. PUMPKIN PRESERVES.—Takeagood sound, ripe pumpkin, peel, and cut in inch squares. Let stand over night in a weak solution of alum water, and in the morning spread on platters set in the aun for two houre, or in a warm oven. Then take three-quarters of a pound of sugar to a poundof pump- kin, some raisins, and a lemon or two. Cook till pumpkin can easily be pierced with astray?, then skim out and 000k juioe till thick enough to keep, as other preservee. If properly made it can't be told from citron. E1,4 Pm—Mane two very thin cakes of Indian meal, flour, and soda, just as for corn bread, and wet it with sour milk, and bake them in a geick oven. Bake a gravy of one teaspoonful of butter, the same of flour, a cup of milk, and salt and pepper. When it in boiling drop in cold, sliced, hard- ' boiled eggs ; leave then in long enough to heat, but don't let them boil up, or they will fall to pieces. Butter one of the hot Indian cakes, lay it in a round pan or dish, pour on the gravy and eggs, and lay on the other cake, buttering it on the top and sprinkling on pepper and salt. (TO BE CONTINUED,) A glass bedstead has been made at a Bir- mingham, Eng., factory for a Calontta mil- lionaire. Itis of solid glass, the legs, rails, &c., being richly cut. The King of Bur- mah also has one. Victor Hugo died worth about $1,000,- 000,, his royalties amounting to $220,000 yearly. Jules Grevy, Leon Say and Leon Gambetta were the executors named in hie will. Death incapacitated the last, the first refused to not, and the great financier, left alone, found his other business to be too pressing ; so he has nominated M. G. Pal - lain to take his place and execute the poet's will. THE LIME -KILN CLUB. Delegates to the annual election and pic- nic of the Lime -Kiln began arriving as ear- ly as Thursday, and by Friday night at leant 600 honorary members put in had an appearance, Every State in the Union ex- cept Florida was represented, and the two Cenadas, Nova Scotia and Winnipeg sent their best men. Giveadam Jones, Piokles Smith and Whalebone Howker were a committee to receive all delegates coming by rail, and a warm and hearty welcome awaited each stranger as he stepped off the caboose of a freight train. Trustee Pulback, Sir Isaac Newton and El- der Penstock were a committee appointed to patrol the river front day and night and re• ceive such delegates as came by boat, Where the delegates had taken passage and paid his fare the work of the committee was very easy, but where he had stowed himself away among the boxes without saying any- thing tc the captain it was a work of some to difiie.uity receive him, Layback Jones, Peaceful Smith and Elder Cabiff Were appointed a committee to receive such delegates as came in by highway, and their duties were performed in the moat eat- isfact •ry manner. Each dusty ,delegate- wa, welcomed in a feeling speech, given a cheek of root beer from a gallon jug, and bleu loaded into a one-horse wagon and for- warded directly to Paradise Hall. From thence he was ticketed to the cabin of seem local memier. It has hitherto been the practice of the club to hold the annual picnic on Fighting Island, eight miles below Detroit, but thia year the owner of the island refused permits- cion, claiming that the last meeting tore up thirty acres of ground in such an awful shale that even burdock wouldn't grow there this season. The club therefore decided an a dry land excursion, and teams oonveyed the members to a sylvan retreat about five miles from the city. A Dniarlors SIDE Dull.—Cut the rem- nants of a cold boiled or roasted ehioken in small pieces. ,hake a since of one pint of cream, two ounces of butter, the yolk of one egg, beaten, and a tablespoonful of corn- starch or arrowroot, eeasoning with silt and white pepper, a little sugar, one teaspoonful of anchovy sauce, and one bay leaf, Put the pieces of chicken in this sauce in e. atm. pm and simmer half an hour. Stow some rico quite soft in milk, seasoning with salt and pepper. Put the chicken in the centre of a dish, place the rice around it as a bor- der, and aorve, SWEET PICELES.—Eight pounds of fruit, four pounds of the beat brown sugar, one quart of vinegar, and ono cup of mixed whole spices, atiok cinnamon, cassia buds, allspice, and °loves—lees of the latter than of the for- mer. Tie the spices in a bag, and boil with the vinegar and sugar, Skim well, then add the fruit. Cook ten minutes, or till scalded and tender. Skim out the fruit and put in- to stone jars. Boil the sirup five minutes longer and pour over the fruit. The next day pour off the sirup and boil down again, and do this for three mornings. Keep the bag of spices in the sirup; GREEN CORN AND PEACH PUDDING —One cup of green corn, which is obtained by cut- ting the kernels with a silver knifeand pres- sing out the pulp with the knife, being care- ful that the kernels are not loosened from the cob, one cup of sliced ripe peaches, crushed alightly, two tablespoonfuls of sug- ar, and ono oup of water. Mix thoroughly, and put in an earthen pudding dish, planing thin slices of peach on the top. Bake from twenty minutes to half an hour in a moder- ateoven. Serve cold. CRANBERRY SAUCE,—Pick over and wash the cranberries, and put in the preserving kettle, with half apint of water to one quart of berries now put the sugar—granulated is the best;—on the top of the berries ; sat on the fire and stir about half anhour : stir oft- en to prevent burning ; they will not need straining, and will preserve their rich color cooked in this way. Never cook cranberries before putting in the sugar. Lees sugar may be used if you do not wish them very rich. striking It ic` " Have you called on the Browns yet ?' she asked as the new minister was about to take his leave after making a call, " I'm just going," he replied, "It's the third house from the corner, I believe ?" '"Yes—third house. They are very, very nice people, and I know you'll like When the minister rang the bell there was some delay in answering it. Meanwhile the screen doors permitted him to hear from the interior. Brown, who seemed to be np stairs, called over the banisters : ""Say; Helen, where in thunder is that old vest I spoke of?" " Who are you talking to ?" demanded a voice from below. " To you, of course 1 If you were any sort of a wife you'd put things where they could be found." " Solomon Brown, don't yon cast any slurs on me. If I don't know more about housekeeping than all the Browns on earth I'll commit suicide." "You do, eh? What did the pauper Smiths have to keep house on ?" " Solomon, you are a vile wretch !" "Much obliged, but it's living with you that's done it 1" At this juncture the miuiater was ushered in, and Mrs, Brown soon entered the par- lor, extended both hands, and gayly ex- claimed : " Ah ! I'm so glad 1 Solomon and I both wanted to see you so much ! Solomon —Solly, dear, hurry up and come down— oar new preacher is here 1" And Solomon Dame down, painted a grin on his face, and greeted the good man with : " Well 1 well 1 but this is good of you 1 Wiley andI were just wishing you'd all," AN ADDY.£". The firat thing on the programme was an address of welcome by Brother Gardner, from which the following interesting stetis. tics are called ; The Lime -Kiln Club now nnmbera 22,850 m embers in goad standing. It has about $7,000 in the general treas- ury, counting in Confederate money and bills on broken banks, Ita constitution now contains forty-seven sections or chapters, each one of the moat vivid interest, and its by-laws number 12,- 460. It is hoped to increase the later to 20,- 000 before another year. The club is the recognized organ of the colored race in America and. Canada, and has bean the direct means of saving 30,000 colored people from the gailowe. Tee club has thirty -see branchea in this country and eight in Canada. Wherever one of these branchea has been estebliehod all policy dealers have had to shut up (shop, and the game of " crept" had died a auddon and painful death. Since the organization of the club twenty- two colored poets have made their debut ; fourteen oratora have been discovered and brought to the front ; twelve lecturers on various aubjocts have been encouraged to scatter over the country, and four weather prophets are now engaged in keeping the seasons greased to run without friction, TILE GA\FE Previous to dinner the following games were indulged in and the following prizes awarded. Throwing the (tack) hammer ; prize, a volume of Capt. Kidd'e poems ; won by Old Man Jackson after breaking three suspend- ers. Hop -skip -and -jump; prize, one pair of nankeen trousers for next summer ; won by Concentric Saunders after a mighty effort which up -rooted two smolt trees and tore up forty rods cf ground. High j amp ; prize, one gallon of lemonade, made by j\Vorth of ,;Paris ; won;, by Way - down Beebe who came down on hi s head and did not recover from the shock until all the lemonade had gurgled down the throats of hie compatriots. Lifting the pullet, prize, one gallon of yellow paint, with instructions how to turn it into an Alpine landscape worth $25 in any sort of weather. Competitora for this prize were required to enter a temporary hen -coop and remove a very wild pullet off the roost without disturbance. There were twenty-one entries, but the prize was won by ShindigWatkins amidst unbounded ap- plause. DHE DINNER, At 12 o'clock noon the horn blew for din- ner and the assemblage rushed to the tables and struggled with the following bill of fare : Soup. Soup. A la bean. Bread. Beef. Onions, Mustard. Chow -chow. Pickles. Knives, Forks. Spoons. ENTREES. Some of the mustard on some of the bread. Soup. A LIFE ROMANOE. Coope Who were Married Atter Forty Year's newsmen, Forty years ago the Rev. Thomas E, Myers, then a young man of 30 years, per- tisently courted Miss Elvins Cobb' of Balti- more county. They afterwards had a mis- understanding and parted, Although they had a deep affection for each other, they never made any attempt to become recon- ciled. Some weeks ago the couple met at Emory Grove camp meetingfor the first time since their separation. Each had been twice married and had buried both life part- ners. Their hair was silvered, and with the whilorn lover time had dealt severely with his °nee sturdy frame. The matron- ly widow of 55 saw before her a feeble and bent form, but it aeemed none the less capa- ble of exciting a ronnantic interest. Mr, Myers, who was noted for his piety'and fine theological learning, seemed to regard the widow with great interest, and soon became her accepted escort in walks around the camp. There were a few friends on the camp ground who had heard of the early romance, and the venerable lovers at once became the subject of tender interest. On the day before the camp broke up a young belle of 18 in passing rapidly along a favorite walk near the camp turned a corner and suddenly saw the Bev. Mr. Myers in the act of presenting a bouquet of wild flowers to the blushing widow. The gallant lover was making a graceful and courtly bow when the aetonrahed beauty met his gaze. He blushed, trembled, and dropped the flowers, and seemed overwhe ed with con- fusion as the intruder tarn taway with a merry r leu h g, The episode seemed to eonvin;.e Mr. Myers that fie should clear himself of the suspicion of flirting, and he forthwith proposed to Mrs. Hall, who, after some persuasion, agreed to change her name for the third time and beoome Mrs, Myers, The engage• meat was at enoe announced. and Mt. Myera expresaed his desire to have the ceremony performed just forty years_ after the date of their separation. Oa the desir- ed anniversary, which fell on a recent Tuesday, they were married, The Rev, Dr Thomas Poulson oiieiated, and the bride and groom stood under a huge silver belt while the knot was being tied, After the ceremony Mrs, Myers, whose friends had insisted on attiring her in full bridal array, not excepting the orange blossoms, was congratulated by hundreds of her friends and her huaband'a parishonera. DESSERT. Some of the onions tangled up with the pickles. The dinner will long be remembered by all as a bright oasis in life's desert. After the fragments were removed to as afe distance to prevent explosion, pails of lemonade were passed. Investigating Ghosts. The learned and progressive gentlemen who constitute the working factors m the Society for Psychical Research of London, are embarrassed much in the way that an unsophisticated youth would be who had anddenly come into the possession of great riches. They have been investigating hy- pnotism, the divining -rod and thought-rans- ference, and appear to bave reachedsome definite conclusions with regard to the production of the phenomena connected with these subjocte, they have latterly taken up the much more occult phenomena of spiritism, and almost in the outset of inquiry have been overwbelnted with stories and accounts of apparitions more or less sup- ported by respectable testimony. London itself is tound to be richly suppllo'1 with ghosts, so that there is material enough at hand to employ the time and wits of the investigators, These genflemen of S. P, R, aim to be candid and impartial ; they have a most ditlicalt nut to crack, and evidently know how. The eyes of 3 e world, ecientific and unscientific are up, hem, and mis- takes even of caution ole ration will re- ceive little mercy. Th: ust, to use the worda of a writer, " be just to an apparition as well as generous to a molecule"— "must use the oyes of the soul as well as the lens of the microscope," They find that some of the many cases submitted to their jurdicial analysis can not he relegated to hallnoina- tion, disturbed mind, overwrought Imagin- ation, fear, or expectancy, a d to apprehend the true nature of these seems like olutchieg at a shadow ; theory here has no basis, and meet therefore be placed in abeyance until some positive data may warrant its revival. We do not look for asolution of the phan- tasm problem, If there are supernatural phenomena we do not expect to be logically satisfied concerning their character. Scien- tific research may settle the question of the occurrence of such phenomena in the affirm- ative, and may go so far as to classify, or differentiate peculiarities of expression—we think that it will ; but to disclose their cause and manner of production seems to us beyond the reach of physical machinery. We are much in accord here with Miss Phelps, who has said that " no investigator is qualified to pass judgment upon psychical phenomena who is not equally ready to ad- mit, if admit he must, in the end, that he is dealing with the physiological action of cells in the frontallobes of the brain, or with the presence of a human aoul disembodied by death. He must be hospitable to a hall- ucination, or to a spectre. He must be, if necessary, just to an apparition as well as generous to a molecule." THE ELECTION. After a day of unadulterated happiness spent beneath the cool shadows of a grove worth $200 per acre, the club returned to the city at nightfall and gathered in Para- dise Hall. Previous to the opening of the meeting, root beer, lemonade „and pumpkin pie were served out with liberal hand, and several old plantation songs were rendered in a manner to call out the patrol wagons. The election, which was first on the even- ing programme, resulted as follows : President.—Bro. Gardner. First Vice • President—Sorghum White. Second Vice-President—Snowball Jack- son. Grand Treasurer—Slipout Smith. Grand Recorder—Elder Cahoots. Grand Finance Committee—Impecunious Green, Outlawed Stebbins and Currency Hart. Speeches, serge, toasts and other featly'. ties occupied the time to midnight, at which hour the meeting adjourned. If there anything more dangerous than the unloaded grin which always goes off when it is pointed at anybody, it is the plea- sure boat that can't tip ever. It is this kind of boat whioh tips over every time. " Well, may I hope then, dearest, that at some time I may have the happiness of making you my wife ?" " Yea, I hope so, I am sure," she replied, " I am tired of su- ing fellows for breach of promise," A lady in Logan county, Ky., sleeps two or three days and nights at a stretch, and then remains awake for a like period. She would be a pleasant kind of a companion to sit up with, were it not that she is 80 years old. PEOPLE, Lord. Randolph Churchill was almost se- riously ill some time ago, but his health is now restored. Kossuth, from feeble health, has been compelled to stop teaching English at Turin, and has gone to live in the Alpe on a farm, where his sons will hereafter support him. Angeli of Vienna is the favorite portrait - painter of Queen Victoria, who has sent for him to come to Windsor m November ex- pressly to paint picture' of Beatrice and Battenberg. The venerable Prof. Calving Stowe was famous for years as a wit, a soh lar.. and a fine public speaker, but was suddenly and completely relegated to dense obscurity by Harriet Beecher Stowe, and she was his sec- ond wife at that, Mr. Stead, the editor of the Pall Mall Ga- zette, is described by a London correspondent as being the type of a fanatical reformer with his hair standing in all directions, his light blue eyes bloodshot, his face red with ill - suppressed exoltement, and his slight frame swaying to and fro, but looking like a brave man, In one of his moat f req uently quoted poems Alfred de Musset asked that a willow tree be planted above his grave. Years after his death the request was tardily granted, but the tree refuses to grow and remains to this day a stunted skeleton. And no one in all France Dares to replace it with a living plant, Senor Campero, a merchant of Pueblo, Mexico, recently advertised that he would give a'lollar to every needy man who ap- plied, actually doing so for a week or more. Incidentally, and in no connection with this charity, it rs mentioned that Senor Campero proposes to run as Mayor of Pueblo. The weight of 1,000,000 dollar bills in greenbacks is within a fraction of 2,841 pounds. }