HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1886-7-8, Page 6Only. One•
1;.
44601M1'11,
The, world moves on at rapid ace,
Audi follow alone in the merging orowa
My gaze Is fixed on a tangle race,
"nes the one ie lire of watch 1 m proud.
onlywee iu the human throng.
And yet the reirest tinder the sun,
Ah 1 what vs) me, as) they pasta *done,,
Were thee rest without teat cute one -3.
How proudly strata ou the world's great Stage
Each flnionl aetor l i the play.!
Front minoieg youth to garrulous age,
There's never a one could pats. away.
But the world wee stop. and fold its hands,
Ano its turmoil cease and its toll be done ;
And the drama end with the breaking benne,
L And the final exit of only one.
But the world moven on at a steady pace,
And the ranks oloin up as one drupe cut,
And another fills the vacant peaoe,
And wit/, to the end or time, no doubt.
A etsr may fall from the glittering sty,
And we maroon, note when iti rage le run ;
A fellow mortsl may drop and die,
And we little heed—it is oily one.
To the world we may be only this—
a. drop in humanity's surging sea,
But there are who wilt sadly, severely miss
The words and the smiles of you or me.
However humble may be my lot.
I'm glad some heart sPare love to have
on ;
reel that t shall not be forgot,
To Ro ,
And die unloved -though Pm only one.
Retribution. At Last,
CEI AP TER II_.—(CONTINIIED,)
" And now, Mee, Mill, seeing 1 have been
in snoh danger, won't you ask me to have
tea with you in your ooiy kitchen tonight ?"
asked Cecil in his most winning and per•
suasive tones. " You can't expeot me to go
to my lonely room after such an afternoon
as this has been. Why, I might have soft.
ening of the brain from mere depression of
spirits 1"
"It's right glad I'd be, sir, and proud ;
but our ways is different from yours, sir,
and very humb'e, but--"
"But stili you'll put up with me ? That's
a kind Christian soul. There's an unoom•
manly nine smell somewhere, whioh makes
ms feel as hungry as a hunter."
A very cosy happy party sat round Mre.
113111'8 substantially• provided tea -table
half an hour later. The snowy cloth was
spread with real old china ware, and a great
ajar of freshly -gathered lilac adorned the
centre of the table. A roast fowl and a dish
•ef smoking ham and eggs were well su port -
•ed by white bread and cakes, amber -tinted
honeycomb, and deliblous preserves.
The good landlady, anxious to do honor
to her guest, appeared in her best flowered
silk gawa and company cap. Her husband,
a shy, awkward, red -toed farmer, beamed
en every one in an impartial silence ; while
Cecil confessed to himself that Nellie, in her
blue dress, with a cluster of late tutee in her
bosom, was the prettiest bit of nature he
had sten in his life, an opinion so plainly
expressed by his eyes that this was perhaps
the reason why the girl's heart danced so
joyously within her, causing her to blush
and smile until she was prattler than ever.
The old eight-day olook tioked loudly In
the corner, and a big oat purred on the
stene hearth. Flowers in earthenwarepots
bloomed in thelezenge-paned windows; and
through the wide open door canld be seen
the steep reeky walls of the dell, all its
trees and ferns flashing with rain -drops in
the lustrous sunshine. It was like an idyl
of Arcadia to the young poet, and he enj ey-
ed it to his heart's content, laying himself
Gut to please and fascinate an he was never
known to do amongst even the creme de la
creme of the society in which he head a high
place. His own family and his fashionable
friends would have been surprised indeed,
to have seen him now—surprised and horri-
fied, too, no doubt. Cecil gave e. smile at
this thought, then he banished everything
but the present from his mind.
" I wonder, sir," said Mrs, Mill, filling
his oup for the fourth time, " yen've never
been to Veristen Mere in some of your
rambles. It's a beautiful spot, though, to
my mind an uncanny one ; and then Mr.
Veriston fs always poring over his books,
and that there daughter of hie roves about
with never a companion nor nothing. Such
a thing fort lady like her to grow up in
that 'eathenlsh way."
" Veriston Mere ?" eohoed Cecil. " Now
you have just reminded me of my duty,
Mrs. Mill, The Veristens are connections
of my mother, and I promised her most son
emnly to look them np. I'm sure I had
forgotten all about it ; but really, when a
man wants to write, howoan he be expected
to bore himself with a tribe of people he
neither known nor wishes to know?"'
Nellie's eyes fixed themselves with awe
upon his handsome face as) he spoke. Was
he an author then ? Did he really write
books ? Novels, or poetry perhaps.
" Well, Mies Nellie, what is it ?" he Ask-
ed mischievously, catching her look. " Da
you think me something awfully queer or
unnatural ?"
" Oh, no 1"—and she blushed deeply, " I
was enly—only wondering if you yen te—
boeks.''
" I plead guilty to one only. But why
need the gruesome fact alarm you ? '
" It doesn't alarm mesir—Mr. Graham,
I mean ; but I was thinking hew very clever
you must be." .
Cecil smiled. not ill -pleased.
" Oh, dear, no 1 •It's only a trick of the
pen l've'get." Then turning to Mre, Mill,
be said, " What sort of a plane is Verieton
Mere House 2" ,
" A regular tumble-down old place, air ;
gardens and everything as wild as can be.
The mare's a great sheet o' water full o'
lilies and what not, where Miss Verieton
has a boat, and site and reads there hours
they say."
"Have you seen the lady ?"—smiling, "Is
she young 2"
" Yes, sir. I've seed her at church once
or twice. She's young enough—not much'
over twenty, I should say, tall and white
and dazed.looking. I see nothink in her
myself."
" And her father 2"
" He's a harietooratic hold Henglish gen.
Haman, he la. His daughter's very like
him, only his'afr's as white as snow, Bat
you'll pee for yourself, sir, if you go,"
" Certainly I shall, Your description
has aroused my curiosity."
"Muster Veriston'e as kind a 'arted a
a man as Never breathed," broke in the
boot suddenly. "He'd give the goat o' his
hank to apoor man, Ay, lawk, the puede
he and allude gies away 2 And then Mr,
Mill relapsed into silence with a heavy
breath, as one for whom the medium of
language was much too poor to express the
thought.
" Willem alter' has a word to say for Mr.
Verititon," Bindingly explained hie wife,
"He's rare took up with 'him, Is, Wil -
tutu 1
il-lum1
" What a lovely evening!" ^ remarked
Cecil insinuatingly, after a while when the
farmer had gone to see after his live stock,.
and ; Mts. 112111 was cleating the table.
" Shall we have a stroll in the garden, Mins
Nellie 2"
Nellie looked timidly at her aunt,
4' Yon may go, child," said the matron
affably ; f' and von may as well cut some
flowers for them glaesee in Mr. Qraham's
room; t'othere area little waned,",
So, provided with basleet and sotseoes,.
Nellie eteppod out. through the open door,.
Cecil following her, and went round to the
sunny wast front.
a,'ne air was parfeotly delicious after the
storm, 000l, and redolent of perfume. The
eatth seemed to rej sloe in restored Pewee
,1►md new life, The leaves—greenasemerald
—stood ant clearly againet the azure sky.
There was quite a chorus of feathered sing-
ers, while the distant lowing of oattle, the
bleating of sheep, and a faint mingling of
voices and belie added the grateful token of
demotic life,
Cecil quite forgot his distaste for an Eve
tea his Paradise, and be assisted his fair
companies in her rifling of the flower bele
most gallantly, feeling as merry unci light-
hearted
ighthearted au a eohool.boy in vacation, flirting,
it must be confessed, as reokleeely as he
would have done with the belles of his'own
oirole.
It never occurred to bine that the girl by
his side now was no finlehed coquette, no
moiety belle, too well seasoned to ba in the
slightest degree hurt by numberless sweet
words or delicate attentions. Nellie Mill
was a aimple country girl, vary vain and im-
presalonable, albeit with a fresh and guile-
less heart. Ste was perfectly innocent of
the world's ways, of its falsehoods, and its
idle games of folly.
She looked np at the tall young man bend
ing over her so tenderly, his voice softening
when he spoke to her,and his eyes full of
dangerous admiration ; and she deemed him
the hero of every tale she had read, a god
among men, a being of another world, with
whom it was joy and honor unspeakable to
associate,
When the flower -gathering was over Cecil
repeated some of his own poetry to her, the
music of which charmed her, though she
could not understand the sense. The in-
fluence of the hoar, of the place, and of the
companionship lent its aid to lure the girl's
heart from her careless keeping. It eeemed
to her a dream of perfect happiness. Of a
waking time she never thought. She was
far too simple and ignorant to dream ef
analysing her own emotions, or to question
this gay Lotharie's smiles and soft tones.
CHAPTER III,
Summer's brightest sunshine bathed in
golden glory the moss -grown walla of Voris -
con Mere. Bewitcheng light and abadow
played among the creeping jessamine, and
rhe branches of an old pear -tree which en-
tirely covered cne side of the house. The
aunshine streamed It at the open windows
and the wide hall door ; flickered amongst
the denee foliage of beeoh, larch, sycamore,
and oheenut, beamed on the flowers, and lay
in bread patches and flaoke on the large un-
mown lawn, which was full of bine-belie,
buttercups and daisies. An unkempt niece
it was truly. The house was an old Mize.
bethan building with three gables, quaint
stacks ef chimneys, small windows in mas-
sive frames, some of them filled with herald-
ic devices in stained glass, long low rooms
medimvaily and uncomfcr'ably furnished,
and a vast egnare hall. The hall contained
one or two priceless paintings, a few grim
snits of armour, stage' heads with enormous
antlers, and a huge fireplace full of ferns
and flowers down to the brazen doge at
either aide, with a black skin rug in front
of the tiled hearth. It was lighted by three
stained windows, whioh shed patches of
oelor on the stone floor. One bright gleam
of unsullied daylight Dame in at the open
deer, jest within which an exquisite marble
flower -girl held a basket on her head filled
with a lavish luxuriance of crimson and pur-
ple flowers.
There were no signs of poverty about the
place. It seemed rather so if the neglect
were studied, as if, from some whim of the
owner, Nature was left to haveher own way
in park and garden. And ea indeed it was,
nor would Harald Verieton suffer any mod-
ern addition to the old hoose.
" It will last my time," he had Bald, some-
what selfishly. " I love it as it is."
Having no son, the house and estate
would pass to a nephew at hie death, a fact
whioh was a great grief to the old man,
Although hie daughter had a separate for-
tune, and broad lands in another country, it
went to M r. Veriston's heart to let theMare
House —whioh had descended in unbroken
line so longe—pass to his sister's son, and to
let the old -name die, as it must, unless the
heir should choose to adopt it.
, Half a mile from the house, in the level
park, the still waters of the mere lay placid.
ly reflecting the blue sky. The long grass
grew close toits brink, and trines, hyacinths,
and harebells nodded gently to their images
in the water. Here and there a mighty
willow or ivied elm -bole mingled its shadow
with theirs ; here and there a miniature
forest of reeds kept up a oeaaeless whisper-
ing. Great patches of lily leaves rested on
the water, their buds jest appearing, and
very soon a crown of white flowete would
add to the beauty of the scene. Hosts of
water -fowl had their 'nests here, breaking
the brooding silence with their shrill cries,
and making the water sparkle like diamonds
as they stirred its eereneesurface. A white
boat lay moored to a staple in a slight in-
dentation of the shore.
It was beside this lone glassy mere that
Argent Verieton loved best to linger, Seated
on the fragrant grass, her back against the
bole of a tree, the lake flashing at her feet,
ehe;would watch, loot in reverie, the white
monde sail slowly ever the turquoise sky, er
the swift flight of the swallows in mid air.
Or she would be paddling in her light skiff
among the lilies, or reeking idly is the
quiet current all the long sultry afternoon,
with an open book on her knee, and shaded
by a large umbrella from the overpowering
glare,
Argent Veriston was a solitary, well-nigh
a friendless girl, Her child -mother had
died when Argent was a baby, and her
father avofdedand dreaded the society of his
fellow -men mike most book worms he was
a shy, nnsooiable.man, passionately fond of
hie home, hie books, and hie daughter, and
oaring for nothing beyond, save that voice-
less grave in Easthore churchyard, where
the darling of his young manhood lay sleep-
ing beneath the daisies. Although pasafen-
ately fond of his daughter, he never dreamt
of providing her with society suited to her
age and position. He never for a moment
imagined that she needed other companion-
ship than hie own. or that her life was
lonely and isolated beyond the lot of women,
Nor had he any idea that she was, by reason
of this lonely life, different from ether girls ;
or that an txtetenoe so eelfdontafnod, so
silent, acid en nun like was a bad prepara-
tion for that coniilet with the world whioh
must in some shape or other take plane soon-
er or later.
Ho dirtily realized that hie little girl had
become a woman fair to look upon, - Her
gttietneas united him. Sae never bored him,
never broke in upon hie dreamy imaginings
with gay laughter or lively bewildering talk.
He had alwaye a book by his side at break-
foot and early dinner, the only two meals
of which he partook. It was but seldom
that more than a few words passed between
father and daughter. As for Argent, she
too dwelt in a world apart, content, like
the logendtory lady of mediaeval ages, to spin
her uusubstantial woof, Out up in a region
of poetry sad romance, seeing but shadows
in her mirror, yet deeming them divinost
rea, Sunk, ieamalbrnbor her
soul neither knew in re nordrioraggdy for anything
beyonlflyd,
Tho only gine when she was seen bXnrdanary folk was at the little 'Eastho
Q'-ureh, where she was a regular attendant,
Sne would eft at the crenae end, apart
from tee congregation, looking like the St.
Cecilia whine rapt fano and golden hair
trleup;ar in the etained-window above her
head. No cue emoted her Dither as she
oame or went. People stood snide roapoot-
faily to lot her pane, She alwaYe had a sweet
smile for them, yet aamehow they never
ventured to speak to her. The Vicar, a
hard-working elderly man, ee'nething of en
aaootio,was the only friend ehe had, the
only visitor the Mere House weloomed
within its gates. He loved the strange
silent girl as a daughter ; and she too had
a deep roverenoe for him, Yet he found
it impossible to interest or engage her sym-
pathies in perish work. Her parse was at
hie dispesal ; but beyond that she wan in-
aooeeuible,
It was drawing towards noon when 0ool
(Freham walked up the beechen avenue and
by the sunny lawn to the door of Veriston
Mere House. A white-haired servant,
law -voiced and obeegaious , admitted and
conducted him through the dim flower-
scented ' hall to a large coal room at the
farther end. Ito windows were shaded by
the dense foliage of two ohoetnnt-trees,
through whioh soaroaly a sunbeam could
peep. The walls were dark, the floor dark-
ly-atained, and a few aklne were oarelesely
laid hare and there. Nothing but a orystel
vase, filled with fresh roses, broke the dusky
hues of the apartment, the cool twilight of
whioh was meat refreshing after the heat
and light without:
P.esently Harald Verieton entered, a tall
stooping figure in shabby clothes, with one
of hie darling books under his arm. He
Dame forward with the hesitation of one un-
used to visitors, Coil rose and grasped his
lax hand warmly, 1 itroduoiag himself as a
visitor in the neighbourhood, and a connec-
tion ef Mr. Verieton, adding that his
mother, who retained a -lively recollection of
her old friend, had urged thin oil. which he
himself hoped would not be oonsldorod an
intrusion.
The old gentleman sinned, vaguely mur-
muring something that might have been
"very glad ;" and Cecil, at his wits' end
what to say next, took the book from hie
host's loose grasp. Fortunately It proved to
be a olaseioar work well known to him, and
he at once entered into a disonetfon of the
opinions of the author. Mr, Veriston thaw-
ed more aid more with every word ; and
finally, as the gong sounded, he pressed
the young man to remain for the meal.
While he wavered the door opened softly,
and, looking up, Cecil eaw a tail fair girl,
apparently about twenty years old, advano-
ing with a graceful listless movement morose
the ficor. She wore a tightly -fitting dress
of palest mauve oolour, slashed with white,
whioh trailed after her noiselessly, and she
looked exactly like an old picture, or even
more like a saint out of a painted window ;
there was something so wonderfully pure
and unworldly in her aepeot. As ehe drew
nearer he saw that her fade WS fair and
perfectly oolourless, and the skin of satin -
tike texture, the scarlet lines of the lips
alone breaking the clear pallor of the com-
plexion. Her abundant hair of palest gold
wae'parted on her forehead, Madonna fee
shion, and her features were regular as those
ef a Greek statue, and nearly as inanimate.
As she raised her eyes, whioh were large,
eoft, and blue, they seemed to flsod his very
seal with light ; yet she scarcely glanced at
him, hardly appearing aware of hie pre-
sence.
Oa being introduced she made him a
charming old-fashioned curtsey ; then, with
the same listless grape, she put her hand
within her father's arm, murmuring that
dinner was ready. All Ceoila's hesitation
about remaining vanished, and a strange
new emotion thrilled him as he mentally ex-
claimed, "Eve 1"
Feeling like an intruder tato an enohanted
castle, the glamour of which was already
upon him, the young man followed them
into another smaller sunnier chamber, where
dinner was spread, admiring on the way
the long heavy curls whioh fell behind to
the girl's waist, and the pliant gram of her
figure. He told himself that she was the
very realization of his awn dear and dimly -
Imaged ideal, a lily among the thorns,
" queen resp of the rose -bad garden of
girls."
All through the long dinner he could not
keep hie eyes off the pale fair faoe. He felt
that he was almost rade, yet he was pertain
that she was nnoonscious of his mutiny,
The large blue eyes looked into his, when-
ever he met them, with a calm gaze that
saw beyond and above him, with not the
slightest recognition of his admiration ; and
no tint of colour rose in the smooth cheeks.
Perfectly self-possessed, almost perfeotiy
silent, she sat, with an old screen, covered
with longsjU me and quaint flowers, for
backgronncl/whtoh threw oat the contour of
her golden bead and the harmonious hues
of her dress,
When he ventured to address some com-
monplace remark to her, she answered as
one roused from a dream—answered in toned
of rare gentleness and ewsetnese, but in as
words few as possible, and without a Emile.
Never had the polished man of the world
seen any one like her. She interested him
in the same way as a new poem, but in a
much more intense degree. His heart boat
wildly when oho spoke to him or looked at
him, He was ashamed of himeelf, disgust-
ed with what he considered his gaucherie,
but he was powerless to resist the mighty
sway of the paaelon whioh was luring him
unresietingly, like the sirens' fateful eine-
ing, on to the rocks of destiny.
After dinner he expeesed a wish to nee the
mere, and his host bade Argent eeoort him
thither, while ho himselt retired awhile to
his study.
idea of the enchanted castle still
possessed Cecil. It seemed to him as If the
lovely silent girl by his side were some
darned hold in thrall, and as if it was re•
served for hiin by love and bravery to liber-
ate her. Or as if tomo eeduotive spirit were
abode: ' to oonduot him to magic regions,
where a thousand years would pans Iike an
hour, and whence he would emerge, gray -
headed and dumb, a miserable wanderer,
only longing for death to restore him to the
cruel angel of his dream. They were fool-
ish fanoles enough; yet he could not rid
hinfaelf of them.
Silently the pair walked through the sun-
lit garden, through the dells and glades of
the bowery park, whore interlacing branohet,
" Golden and green light slanting through
Their heaven of many a tangled hue.'
lot in sudden gloamn of turquoise sky, where
the hum of boney-freighted bees broke the
delightful Kummer calm, while hundreds of
coloured buttorfiiea glanced hither and
thither on their flowerlike wings, At
length they reached the mere, a still nntip-
pled sarfaoe refltoting heaven's sunny bine
es in a mirror, wherein lay the shadow' of
the trees, a white boa or two oontraetina
with thedead groon of the floating ieavea
near the brink, '
"t is beautiful I" exclaimed Cecil Gra,
ham at leng tb" breakin
g with an effort the
long eilenoe
it yes," ehe said pimply,
" Is this your boat 2" heaoked, embolden.
ed by that ball smile, and bending over the
atilt
" Yoe," she meld again.
" And de you often tees it 2"
" Vete often. I like to be on the water;
in is /ilte'floatinsr in the sky,"
" What a pity. thoufihe your boat only
holds ono 1"
"Why 2" she asked, with perfect elm-
plioity,
Well, because if it had held two I aould
have rowed yuu on the mare ;" and he laugh-
ed rather constrainedly.'
"Cie, no 1' she replied, shrinking, " I
couldn't bear that, I prefer being alone."
The hot color mdauted to the young man's
face.
" Is my company so dietaafeful to yon
then, ,alias Verieton ? Ion leave you now
if you wish, I would not for worlds force
myunweloome presence on yon"
I don't mind here," he answered ab-
sently.
This apeeoh was namely calculated to
soothe his wounded pride, yet he was fain
to be content. Tae glemour'she had woven
round him was too strong to' be broken by a
few cold words, What spell was there la
that r xpreaelonleee face, that a weet even
tvoioatoaffect him so powerfully? Why
ehould his heart beat es fent and his eyes,
well need to control those of women, fall
like a shy b ay'o before the dreamy light of
hers ? Way had hie usual on completely
deserted him 1 He could not answer these
questions, He knew only that a spell was
upon him under which ho was powerless.
The root of that 'day passed like a dream..
It might have been five minutesit might
have been five years, during whioh he sat
by the girl's aide, on the fallen mo®s grown
trunk of an old oak -tree, watching the
flattering 'butterflies and errant bees, and
the shadows dipping deeply into the mere,.
while great wafts) of honeytuokle perfume
Dame aver and anon, borne by the fitfal
south wind,
Then they had sauntered book to the
house, and had bad tea 'In a small sunshiny
chamber, through the open easement of
w".ioh large sweet roses peeped shyly and
green branohea drifted, while one bright ray
of ennobine crowned Argent'a fair head as
she poured out tea from an old-fashioned
silver pot`into cups of prlooleas china.
It seemed to Ceoileafterwards, on cool re•
flrotion, as if he had set at the polished
table and simply stared at thio young girl
all the time, drinking in the witchery of
her presence, He could not recollect that
any one had uttered a word, He remember-
ed seeing, as in a picture, a nose -framed
window, the delicate tinting of the walls,
the sombre furniture, the old man lying
book in a large eatyohair, sipping his tea
at iatervals, and, clear as a Damao on this
background, the golden head, the pale still
face, and the large dreamy eyes of Argent
Verieton, He know that he had lingered
with her In the garden at sunset, and that
the glory of the evening and the odors of
the flowers had reused him to poetry. He
knawnhat he had talked and she had listen-
ed, that he had held her hand closely in his
own, unrebuked, as he bade her .•good-bye
in the shadowy twilit porch, where the
marble flower -girl offered her unheeded
blossoms, He knew that in the soft gloom
she hitd looked like some spirit, and that
he had won from her lips ono smile, faint
as the shadow of a smile, yet most sweet,
the liiht of whioh had guided him through
the ducky lanes book to the farm—glorified
all his homely surronndinge there, and had
lolled him into happy impossible dreams,
(TO BE CONTINUED )
What He Had in for Him.
.":The other day Judge Neokelsoa went a
fishing. Becoming tired and hungry on hie
way home he stopped at a oabin near the
roadside and thus addressed an old negro
man who oame to the gate :
"How are you, old man?"
" Pe'ly, sah ; how is it wed yerese f 2"
"I am hot, hungry, duty and thirsty,
Can you do anything for me 2"
"Ne, sah."
"Can't you give ma some water 2"
"No, sah,"
"I see that -yea have a well book there."
" Yee, de well's dar."
" Then why can't I get some water 2"
"Looker heah, Jedge. Youree'f thinks
dat I down know yer, bat I does. I wnz er
witness in yer Don't de uder week an' yen lot
one o' dem lawyers arose q"tostien me an'
ketoh me in er lie. Dat wa'n't no way tor
treat a stranger in de town. Yee, eah,''set
right dar an' let dat blame lawyer 'base me
like I wa'n't a citizen o' die heah sou sty.
I'ee had it in fur yer eber eines dat time an
I wants ter tell yer whut'a er faok, ef yer
gite any water oaten dat well it'll be airter
yer'e had de hardest fight er whits man ober
had."
Travelling on the Mississippi.
" Do yon not like eteamboat travelling
on the Mississippi 2" was asked of an Eng-
lish woman.
".Taw, eawn't sal that I do, Do you
kno v that as I oame down I came in oawn-
toot with snoh a beastly and 'orrid man from
Arkausaw. One nighb during a storm great
alarm prevailed, and it was thought the 'or -
rid old boat was sinking. Thera was no
life preserver in my state -room, eo in frenzy
I 'curled to the state -room occupied by the
Arkansaw man, knocked on the door and
pried ; " Oh, for 'oven's sake 'and me a life
preserver 1' All right,' said 'e, and the
next moment 'e opened the door, shoved out
a blaok bottle and said ; ''Ere yon are ;
drink 'earty,' I halmoet fainted, for I never
knew before that a bottle was a life preeer-
ver, don't you knew. Oh'o was such an
'orrid man."
" What did you do T'
"Don't you knew that I was so frighten-
ed that I turned up the bottle 'Deed I
did, and the 'orrid man 'ad the impudence
to say, ' Touch 'er light, madam.' Naw, I
oawn't rel that I line travelling on that
hawful river."
A new salad is made of lettuce, frog lege
and gapers. The lege and papers ought to go
well together,
Prince Baldwin, eldest son of the Count of
Flanders, has now been definitely aokno w -
ledged 08 next heir to the orown of Belgium,
and although only 17 years old takes preoe-
denoe of hie father and mother on all official
oacaeions. He has just been appointed rub -
lieutenant in the tent Gronadier Regiment,
and bas taken the usual oath of allogianoe.
The reports tie to the engagements between
the oldest eon of the Prince of Wales and the
seoond daughter of the King of the Balgiane`
are withoat foundation, for according to the
terms of the British coieetitntion, no British
Ptinoe is allowed, under the pain of forfeiture
of all his rights and privilegee, to marry a
Princess of Catholic birth,
1
"WiO `;RUUD ¥oWILMA O l
CtCuat*iiEvidence Mabe Very
Wrong and all wrong,
Tbo ociminal who argues that he is stile
because no ane saw him gommit the prima
forgets that oiroumetantiel evidonee is a
No uresis whioh has pursued its thouaande
to the prison and the gallows, 114 the
Preller
eaeo in St. Louie been one in whioh
men could testify that they saw the killing
done, the sensation would have diad out
in a week, It depended ppm oircamstan-
tiAl evieenoe alone, andas tank after link
hag been picked up to make a complete
elinin the whole country has been interested.
The reoorde of crime show that whore
oiroumatantial evidence is solely depended
on,
A TERRIBLY STRONG 0s.SE
can be made against au entirely innocent
man. Tnat this has been done ti'no efter
time we all know, though is the great
m*j erlty of cases the real criminal gete
kite juet deserts,
Some forty years ago there lived in
Ontario a farmer named Throop, who was a
widower, with a daughter 15 years old,
The man had a good reputation, and hie
daughter was a great favorite in the
,neighborhood, For some time previous to
the oconrenoe which caused his arrest
Throophad o been hot b en on good terms with a
farmer named MoWilliams, living about
a mile away, on account of damage com-
mitted by cattle belonging to the latter.
There had been a low salt, and the two
mon had ones Dome to blows, and Throop
had mid is the presence of witnessea that
he would like to put a ballet into Mc
Williams, Oae day about noon the cattle
broke into the field again, and the daughter
notified her father. Throop was terribly
enraged, and, as he atarted to drive them
out, he took hie rifle along. The back end
of the field bordered on a wood, and the
daughter saw her father disappear among
the trees after the running cattle. Soon
thereafter she heard a shot, and was alarm-
ed for tear that her father had carried out
hie throat.
In about half au hour Throop came
home, pale, agitated, put up hie gun, and
sat down to bis dinner without a word.
The girl was Drying, but he didn't seem to
notice it. After the meal was eaten he
hitched up a horse to the boggy and drove
away, saying that he might not be back
before sundown. He returned at 7 o'clock,
and the daughter noticed /that he was in
much better humor. Neither referred to
the affair of the cattle, and the evening
passed off pleasantly, Two days later,
Throop meanwhile pnreaing his labors
around heme, the Sheriff appeared and
arrested him. Tee farmer was at supper
when the officer entered, and it was after-
ward put in evidence that
THROOP TURNED DEADLY PALE
before the errand of the offerer was made
known. When told to consider himself a
prisoner he caked what was; the oharge,
and the Sheriff replied :
"For the murder of Henry McWilliams.
Hie body was found in the woods this after-
noon,"
Thraop was terribly agitated, but protect-
ed his innocence, saying he had not seen the
himman for a week. As he was taken away he
whispered to his child, who was clinging to
:
" Say nothing of my phasing the cattle
"This was overheard by the Sheriff, and at
the preper time was used, to the prisoner's
confusion. The daughter was convinced of
her father's guilt from the first. The blund-
ering Sheriff did not take away the rifleand
he had no sooner departed than the giri in-
spected it, to find that it had been recently
discharged. In hopes to exculpate her.
father, she set about and cleaned and loaded
the gun. In the course of a few hours she
was put under restraint and interrogated,
Believing that anything ehe could say in re-
gard to the affair would reaot en her father,
she determined on silence, and not one word
could be got from her as to the events of the
past three days. Throop vigorously denied
the killing, but was obstinately silent to all
other questions. The proseoution then be-
gan to work up its oa8e of olroumetantial
evidence, and was fortunate from the start.
A person oame forward who saw Throop
leave the house, gun in hand, to chase the
cattle. Two persons affirmed that they
heard the report of a rifle. Several people
had heard Throop make threats. The clean-
ing of the rifle was charged to Throop, and
made to look ugly against him. The alienee
of himself and daughter was proof enflioient
to moat people that he was guilty of murder.
Court was in session and the accused was
speedily brought to trial, To his lawyer he
divulged the episode of pursuing the cattle,
and he
ADMITTED FIRING dT A HEIFER
and missing her. The abet went over her
and entered a beech tree. He gave his sol-
emn word that ho did not see MoWllliams
that day. When he left the house after din-
ner it was with the intention of going to the
town several miles away to consult a lawyer
in regard to a new snit. He did not find
the lawyer is hie ofiioe, and o e his way
home he got to thinking the matter over,
and made up his mind he had been too hasty
all along. He even had some thought of go-
ing to his meighbor and holding out the
hand of reconciliation, but he was restrained
by the lateness of the hour, This feeling
accounted for hie ohanged oonduot when he
oame home.
The lawyer went to the woods and found
the beech tree, and dug out the bullet. He
&so found that the lawyer whom Throop
went to see was out at the hour specified. Itn
was strange, however, that while scores of
men in the town know Throop, no ono could
be found who remembered having seen him
on that occasion.
Mrs, Williams affirmed that her husband
had left the house with his rifle to hunt
squirrels in the woods, and she had never
seen him alive again. He had been shot
through the head, What had become of
hie rifle 2 Tae proeeentlon intended to
charge Throop with hiding it. The defence
had no theory about it, though they might
Leek why the body had not been hidden as
well, Any theory of suicide was out of the
question in the face oftho oironmstanoee,
The oaae was called with a strong pre-
judice against the prisoner. The proaeoa-
tion put in all its evidence, oiroumstantial
and otherwise, and it
SEEMED TO EVERY ONE A OLEAB CASE,
Before the defence opened an event ewer
-
red which had a most imeortant bearing,
A stranger was arrested In a town twenty
miles away while trying to dispose of a rifle
with MoWilliamo'e name engraved on a
silver plate in the stook. lie was brought
to the county neat at once, . and when the
right pressure was brought to bear en Mtn
he made a oonfeseion. He was a travelling
olook tinker. He had boon drunk two or
three days before' the cheating and hi' out
fib had been lost or stolen, Early on the
morning of the shooting ho etole a couple,
of bens from Throop, and went into the
woods and made a fire and roasted one for
hie breakfast, He .wan asleep when Mo•
Williams ettembled upon hint, Evidences,
wore at hand that be Was a b f e
Was . ti@ and be
armer ordered, him to fok u and loane,
p P tl,.
The tinker refused, and het word. ed
McWill apse threatened him with the gene
and he closed in to Meet it from him, 'In
the struggle the, weappu was disohsrged, and
the farmer WOS killed. At the same In-
etant °nether shot WAS fired, but the tinker
did not roe Throop. He at first threw down
the rifle and ran away, bat afterward re.
turned for the gun, thinking to eoll it and
prepare another outfit.
There could be no doubt of the truth of
the tinker's atory, and Throop was (Moham-
ed front custody and the other party put on
Idol. He pleaded guilty, No judge and
jury aeoopted his version of the shooting,
and he received a comparatively short sen -
tome. But for his notion In parrying away
the gun he would probably have been est at
liberty.
A Masterpiece of Fiction.
Tne following is an extract from a master-
piece of French fiotion :
M de M deeshiit when the file of aoldiere
left him, found himself in a ungeon. Not
a ray of light penetrated the Uinta abode,
butD a pea
� M keshlft a gra deli became
y y
g
so accustomed to the doe -knee -ea that he saw
a broom straw lying in a corner. He caught
upthebo et uttered stifled broom raw, ut or d a ail d e rye
and pressed it to tie heaving bosom, Then,
in hie despair, he tickled his nese with the
straw and toughed.
" Who laagau 2" demanded a voice,
" I do."
" Who are you 2"
" Da Makeshift. Who are you 2"
" Tho Abbe So Long,"
" Ah."
" Ah, hob."
"How long have you been here 2"
" I have now, alas ! no method of reckon-
ing time, but I must have been here shoe
sunrise thin morning."
Da Makeshift groaned, "Where are you
now 2' he asked.
In
tunnel," the Abbe replied,
A tunnel 2"
re Yee.,,
" You make my heart. beat, Where did
yon pet the tunnel 2'
" Mede it,"
" Yon astonish me,"
shoveles Ab2",�,
"Ah, bah. Where did you get your
"Had none."
" Then how did you make the tunnel ?"
" Lieten."
" I will."
"I °cooped it out with a shirt button,
Have you a button on your shirt 2"
., No.
" Alae 1 you are married."
"No,,,
" Then why have you no buttons 2"
" A Chinaman does my washing."
s, Ah,,
"Ah, huh."
" Well, wait until I gouge my way
through this rook, and I will lend you my
tt."
•' Oh, thank you."
" Hist, the turnkey Domes,"
After a long silence, "Has the turnkey
gone ?' the Abbe asked.
bu
"Not yet." '
"Well, then, when he gees tell me and I
will resume my work."
, " Allright ; he's gone now." '
" I am at work."
Scoop, scoop, scoop. A long, bony arm
was thrust into De Makeshift's cell. De
Makeshift seized it and pressed the elbow
to bis lipsow. The Abbe stepped into the cell.
" 1\ra mast escape from here," said the
Abbe.
'H?"
" By sealing the walla."
Hew oan we scale them without a
knife 2"
"W Wait." t
The Abbe took off hie shirt ,,,,tore it into
shreds, and in a marvellouir , year made a
ladder.
" G of a couple of pins Y'
" What do you want with them 1"
"Make hooks to g s on the end of the lad•
der."
" Here they are."
"Now," said the Abbe, bending the pine
and fastening them on the ladder, " follow
me,"
They passed out Into the courtyard. De
Makeshift uttered an exolamatlon. He eaw
the man who had poisoned hie grandfather,
The Abbe threw the ladder. The pins
caught hold. The two mea eaoaped.
Costly Cars.
Oar railway system is confessedly in
advance of any other in the world. Oar
mileage is as large as that of all Europe
combined. Some of the English and
continental roads are more solidly built ;
but for comfort and luxury there is no-
thing comparable to our sleeping and
saloon cars. The private oars in which
our railway magnates travel, are in point
of luxury and costliness far ahead of any-
thing of the kind in the Old World All
onr leading railway men habitually use
cars superior in elegance to those occupied
by monarchs in other parte of the world.
William K Vanderbilt, Roberti Garrotte,
Milton H, Smith, Hugh J. Jarrett, and
some twenty other of our railway peo-
ple use cars costing from $20,000 to $30,-
000 each. There are about 190 very
costly cars in nee, representing $4,000,000
in cash. Of those some sixty cosh of $30,-
000 each. A Mr. Talbot, editor of a rail-
way newspaper, was presented with a car
recently, made by Herr Krupp, the fa-
mous gun founder. It is of hard wood,
easil-lake finish, with a great` deal of nes•
thetas drapery. The observation`room in
the end of the oar is finished in oak.,with
French plate eine windows, este ding
from the ceiling to the floor, velvet `cur.
Wes , Wilton carpets, and embossed
leather furniture, including divans. eThe
bedroom is in maple and amaranth, and
opening from it Is the parlor, the most
elegant apartment of the car. It is finish-
ed in solid mahogany, with rich inlaid
Panels and carvings of rare and costly
woods from the Holy Land. The butler's
room, 'pantry and kitchen, are models.
It would coat at least $60,000 to duple,
este thle ear. Famous actresses have
had private Dare very luxurious in their
apartments. Madam Patti had such a
one, while Mrd. Langtry actually lived
in ker oar when filling her engagements
outside of New York. -American raper.
Enfant terrible (aattfng her Uncle Jack's
bald head) --Tear, tjckeu Jack, Ith'at whore
oo got'pinked when os) re naughty 2
Mr. S. S. Woodward holds that no man
has a moral, nor should he have a legal
right, to permit his oroherd to be 'a' breed-
ing ground for canker worms, codling
meths, Rio, Ho should be compelled to de=
etroy the inseote or to out down the trees,