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The Exeter Times, 1888-4-12, Page 2LIKE AND UNLIKE. 137 M. E. BRADDON, AUTInnt Oi Leery Auvr.Er's SEmr," " Wmt.Ann's Weiun," Ere, Eros CHAPTER 1X.—(Comennah ) It was their first day together, but not their lat. Mrs. Baddeley WAS devoted to oishunting, aenl her devotion was an exeuse Lor Helen. It is my lad seism," the told Adrian. I shall give up all masculine out•of-door .eports when. I am married." " Will you, a %treat ? Then your self- sacrifice shell not be unrewarded, for I will get you the prettiest yacht that eau be built at Davenport. Shall it be steam or sailing, ehe Helen 2.," " Wall you really? Oh, you darling. 'Yachting is my ruling passion. Yes, you may think I am mad about huntbag, but my. veal lunacy is the ma. Give me a yacht—a. echooner. sailing of course, I hate steam— and I shell adore you." (Helen," reproachfully, "More than I do now,if that be possible." " I will write to the builders this evening, and ale them to send me drawings and esti- mates for the handeomest two -hundred ton achooner they can build.' "Two hundred tons, oh, Adrian, you are only to adorable." He smiled at her eagerness, her childish 'delight in the pleasures she loved. She had taken his gifts of jewellery almost with in- difference, pleased with the glitter and ,dazzle at the first opening of the cases, but •seeming to care very little to ornament her- self with her spoil. "They never look so lovely as in their :white velvet beds," she said. Perhaps she knew that a limp white gown and a cluster of Dijon roses were enough for her fresh young loveliness,thet neither gems nor gold could add to her beauty. And so things went on to the end of the hunting. Adrien spent a gteab deal of his time at Morcomb, and the sisters came very often to lunch or afternoon tea at the Abbey. Where were dinner parties also at both houses. Morcomb was inueli gayer than it had heen before the advent of Mr Baddeley. If not brilliant himself—and it appeared to •Sir Adrian that he was a good-natured dul- lard—Frank Baddeley was the source of brilliancy in others. The house brightened at his coming. He seemed to be popular ..with his friends, for two of them came all the way from London, with a string of horses, mil put up at the old-fashioned fam- ily inn at Medford, in order to be near him. These two gentlemen were Lord St. Aus- tell, and Mr. Beeching, and their appearance in the hunting field was not without interest to the native mind. The hies Treduceys had met St. Austell is in society," and knew all about him. Sir Nathaniel had been at Eton and Christ- arurch with his Lordship's father. It was almost a kind of ootsinship, Matilda af • dected to know the gentlemen's history from his cradle. "The St. Austells had gone to Oxford for centuries, but this one is a Cambridge man. He was at Trinity, and came out third Wrangler ;" she said. "He went into Parliament directly he left college. People thought he was going to distinguish himself, but when his father died he went wrong somehow, racing, I suppose—and he quarrel- ed with his wife—I believe it was she who 4ran away from him, but Pve heard my father • ay he drove her to it, so one couldn't help feeling sorry for her, especially as she was Lord. Helvellyn's daughter—and we knew her people. They were not divorced—and she went to live abroad with an old aunt." This to Marjorie Toffstaff, who listened inwardly writhing. It was hard to be so instructed, where as a young lady aspiring to be in society she ought to have known all about Lord and Lady St. Austell. "1 believe my father knows him," she said. carelessly. "1 fancy I have heard these old stories." But it was made clear presently tbat Mr. Toffstaff, who was Bitting on the reed side in his mail pbaston, pretending to criticise the appearance of the hounds, did not know Lord St. Austell, for there was Mr. Beech- ing introducing Toffstaff to that nobleman. Toffsta,ff and Beeching were old friends. Toffstaff bad made his money out of colonial produce in the days when fortunes were. to be made in Mincing -lane. The Beeching family had grown rich on the Stock Ex- change. Mr. Beeching knew all about the money market, but he had never soiled his fingers with script. The Beeching fortune had been growing and quadrupling itself for three generations, since Beeching, grand- father, had made his great coup in the rail- way mania yeas. Joseph Beeching was an only son, and was reputed to be fabulously rich. His wealth was a standing joke amoug his particular friends. He did not mind be - lug chaffed about his millions—took the thing quite calmly. "Hang it all, you know, a fellow can't help it if he comes of a money -making ancestry. I know its deuced vulgar te, have plenty of cash now -a -days. One ought to be ruined. Every gentleman is hard up. To own oneself rich is to confess oneself a cad ; only I'd rather be a rich cad than a poor zed, if it's all the same to you." Lord St. Austell and Mr. Beeohing were received at Morcomb with the open hand of friendship. Colonel Deverill had an Irish- man's ideas of hospitality, considered it his duty to receive all comers, in and out of season. The entertainment might be of a somewhat scrambling and slovenly order, the dinner might be very good or very bad, a feast or a famine as the colonel said, the wine might be abundant or the last bottle out of the cellar. The colonel was equally at gam among his guests and equally de- lighted to have them round him. What he Wanted moat, perhaps, was an excuse for enioyitg himself and forgetting black care. No house could be well conducted where the going and coming was always an uncer- tainty, and the number of guests at dinner a riddle that was only solved when they sat down. Neither Leo nor Helen pretended to any talent for housekeeping, they left every - thug to Brady, the teibler, and to an old Irish cook and hougekeeper who had been in the colonel's servioe ever since his mar- riage, and from whom he bad no secrete. Lord St. Austell rode by Mrs. Baddeley' side when the hounds moved off', while Ma- jor Baddeley followed, in conversation with l'atty Toffetaff, who was social and Immo, clots. Mr. Beaching rode aloae, and talked to notody. He Was not a pastieularly agreeable looking young man. He had a low forehead', a pug not), a large jaw, and altogether too much of the bulldog type for beauty; and :his dark tallow countenance and sullen expreseion contrasted curiously with St. Austell's delicately fair skit blue ayes, and pale auburn nionstathe. SC AIus. telt had the air of having itet delved out of a picture by Sir Peter Lely. ttige Toffetaff Was extremely gracious to Major Baddeley, but she was debating in her own Mind all the finite how she could easiest get at St. Austell, who must be captured at once for display at Wilmington. It wee not to be endured that there should be a uobleman in the neighborligod who was not an iutimate of the Toffattiffs. "Pother must ask him to dinner bruises diately," she thought, "even if we ere ob. liged to ask the Morcott -lb people too." CHAPTER X,—C---tatieGFrun AS MB WM- The Lamb at Chadford was a spacious, oid-fashioned family inn and posting -house, with long passages, good-sized low-pitohed rooms, a garden, and a pretty view from al - moat every window. `The garden was on the banks of the Chad, and the house stood close to the bridge, and comumaided a wind- ing reach of the river, the hilly high street, and the old Norman church whose chimes marked the in -ogress or the hours for those who lay at the Iamb, Lord St. Austell led Mr. Beeching shared the prettiest sitting -room of the lien, a room with a bow window commanding the bridge and the town, and with French windows opening On to a balcony above the garden and the river. They sat in this balcony after breakfast, smoking their cigars and hearing the dip of the oars as a boat went slowly by in the morning senahine. But neither St. Austell nor his friend gent much of their time at the Lamb. Colonel Deverill was too hospitable to leave his son- in-law's friends to mope at -an inn. They were welcome at Morcomb at all hours. NilithBeeching's fivehorses, and St. Austell' three, there was always an animal of some kindsto carry the young men to Morcomb, or they would ride home with Mrs, Baddeley after the kill, and have their dry clothes brought over to them by a valet. "We might almost as well be living here altogether," said St. Auetell. "1 think we must be more trouble than if we were in the house." Mr. Beeching said nothing. He accepted everything tacitly, almost as if it were his due. He was the most unemotional young man Colonel Deverill had ever encountered. He was polite and accommodating enough in social intercourse, but he was—or seemed to be—as cold as stone. "1. can't think what you can see in him to like," the colonel said to St. Austell one night, in the confidence of the smoking - room. "I don't see anything in hire, and r don't like him particulerly.h "Well, then, put it in another way. I can't think how you can get on with him so we1''1.1 0h, I can get on with anybody, from Satan downwards. That's mytemperament. Beeching is a useful person to know. He has a capital stud. which his friends use pretty freely. His drag and kis yacht are both excellent and serviceable; and he has a kind of table d'hote at his chambers which we all use. In fact, he does whatever we want, and makes no fuss about it." "1 shouldn't think he would make a fuss about anything—not if you cut his head off. I never saw suchen unimpressionable young man 1" "Oh, I don't know about that. Still waters run deep, you know. I have an idea there are depths under thet dulness of Beecbing's. He is not a fool, and I believe he could be a black -guard." Se much for Joseph Beaching from his dearest friend's atandpoint. There was a link between the two which St. Austell had not taken the trouble to explain. They were partners in a racing stable. Beeching found the money, St. Austell the intellect and social status. Sb. Austell had got the commoner into the Jockey Club, and into a certain fast and furious set in London, which esteemed itself the very cream of society—a set on which royalty had been known to smile, and,every member of which was on the road to moral or financial ruin. Sir Adrian &afield saw a good deal of the two men. He liked St. Austell, who was eminently likeable, and never showed the cloven foot except to his intimates; but he did not like Mr. Beeching, still less did he like his future instereulaw's manner with that young gentleman. It was mot that Mrs. Baddeley openly flirted with him, or encouraged his atten- tion. She only allowed herself to be wor- shipped by him: let him follow her about like her dog, and screw himself insiduously into the chair nearest hers on all occasions. She had a charming air of being totally un- conscious of his admiration, and almost ig- nored his presence; and yet Adrian felt in- stinctively that she knew all about him and his feelings for her, and that she tacitly per- mitted his adoration. ' "1 wonder Baddeley doesn t see what is going on and give his wife a hint," thought Adrian • But Frank Baddeley was one of those es- timable, easy tempered mediocrities who never do see what they ought to sec; men who so long as they have good dinners and good horses to ride, and pretty wives to smile upon them, think that life is as it should be. It never seemed to Frank that a wife who was so invariably smiling and complacent could hardly be seriously fond of him. He never asked himself whether love would not have been more exacting and more fitful its its manifestations—whether that monotony of sweetness might not mean indifference, He was a sleepy kind of man, fond of ootninonplace pleasures'and not on the alert to find a thorn among his roses. He had been a, little perplexed by his wife's diglay of jewellery one evening, and had questioned her about it as they drove tete•ga•ete in a fly to a dinner at the Abbey. "Where did you get three diatoonds, Leo? You hadn't them in India." "No, I left them with father. They are my grandmother's diamonds—old Lady Teed. leery% don't you know." Oh, she left you her jewels,did she ?" "Some of therm I was her md-daughter." "Ah, to be sure. Bub you've had them re -set, I suppose. They don't look a bit old-fashioned," No they are just as they came to me. Diantotids are never old fashieted." He asked no more questions, perfectly satisfied with the explemition ; but that night, when the sisters went home after the dinner party, Leo followed Helen to her room, "Helen, I've got something to ask you," "What is it, dear?" "You know the old garnet necklace Lady Ledbury left me ?" "01 course I ; but you never wear it." "1 told Frank eshe left me diamonds. Don't let the cat out of the bag, that's a darling. 1 didn't want him to know that hadbought them out of the money I wen hacking homes last Spring. He mightn't like me to bet," "01 course he wouldn't like it. No, I won't betray you, But if I were you, Lee, weuldn'e Whey husband lies. it cant ..tswer "Wait till you heve a buil:and of your own before you sermonise. Aaythingior quiet life, Helen. That is my motto.' Adrian and Heleet were to be married in June—the first of June. The date had been fixed, the trousseau had been put in hand under Mrs. Baddeley's instruetione. A fore- woman from one of the modith heusee in London, cense down to Morcomb to measure Miss Deverill for her gowns. "I am afraid my things will cost a lot of money, Leo," Helen said, doubtfully, when thia ?mashie personage was gone with her pattern boxes. "They will cost a goodish bit, but we are not ordering many gowns, you see. Those We have chosen will be lovely, but not too many of them. There will be none to hung idle in your wardrobes, getting dusty and old-fashioned, as some brides' gowns dm" "Bet the prices seem enormous. Will father be able to pay for them ?" Mrs. Bad- deley made a wry fate, which eepresaed ex treme doubtfulness on this point. "Some one will have to pay," she said. "Not Adrian. You will not let him ever see those bills." "Adrian's wife, perhaps. Mtge Ponsonby will not press for her money, knowing what a good match emu are making." "But to let Adrian pay for my wedding clothes, directly or indirectly, would be so degrading, so humiliating I" "My dear child, you can't be married without clothes, and its my opinion your father has not a stiver." "I wish I could win Money on the turf, Leo, like you," Mrs. Baddeley reddened at the allusion. "Oh, that is all very well once in a way, a mere fluke. It is not to be thought of." "But you always seem to have money for everything. If Frank were a rich man you could not dress more extravagantly." My dear child, I am awfully in debt. I dare not think about my affairs. They are horribly entangled. But you are such a lucky creature. What can it matter who pays for your trousseau, or when it is paid for. Adrian has offered the most liberal settlement. You will have six hundred a year to do what you like with." "Six hundred. It seems a great deal. I shall be able to help you, Leo." "You are very good, darling; but I hope I shall never be obliged to sponge upon you. Women were not made to prey upon each other. Nan ie our natural quarry." As the days went by and the hunting sea- son drew to its close, it seemed to that acute observer, Lord St. Austell, to whom the study of a pretty woman's sentiments wae moreinteresting than any other problem, that- Helen Deverill had not quite so happy an air as she ought to have had, considering that she was soon to be married to the Man of her choice, and the very best match in the neighborhood. It interested that student of character to perceive that the young lady, had often a preocoupied air, even in her lo- ver's society, as they sat side by side in a corner of the drawing -room after dinner, or loitered in the billiard -room at dusk. "How will you and your future brother- irelaw suit each other," he said to Helen one day, when they were out with the hounds. She crimsoned, and was suddenly speech- ess. "He really is a fine fellow, and I don't wonder you like him : but a, very rough diamond as compared with his brothen-I should say." "Yes, of course Adrian is ever so much more accomplished." "Musical, artistic, highly -cultured, a young man in a thousand," imaged St. Austell, cruelly persistent. "1 believe you are gnite the luckiest young lady of my ac- tuanstance, Miss Deverill." She waa silent; all the happy light had gone out of her face. Lips and eyes were grave and mute. St. Austell watched the downcast face with deepening interest. He thought he had never seen a lovelier countenance, and he was a man who wor- shipped beauty. tided to think her sister the most beautiful woman I ever met," he said to himself, "but this one is lovelier. There is more of the wild rose—the pure and deli- cate perfection which blooms and dies in a day. To be true to her type this girl ought not to live to be thirty. Aud she does not oare a rap for Sir Adrian Belfield, and she is over head and ears in love with his brother. A troublesome complication in the present stage of affairs. She should have waited till she was married." Adrian was not jealous either of Lord St. Austell, whom he admired, or of Mr. Beech- ing, whom he disliked; but the atmosphere of Morcomb was not agreeable to him after Major Baddeley's arrive'. The house had too much the tone of bachelor shooting quarters. Every room was steeped in tobac- co; for although men were supposed not to smoke in the drawing room or morning room, there were SO many exceptions to that rale, and Mrs. Baddeley and her sister were so ready to reeind it upon all occasions, that, practically, there was smoking everywhere. Cligarettes and whiskey and water were the pervading atmosphere. Whatever the hour or the occasion there WAS generally a little table lurking in a corner with a brace of spirit decanters and a syphon. The talk, too, had the seine rnaseulinelfiaveur, and rang:d from the stable to the kennels, and from billiards to baccarat. Reminiscences of high play in London clubs or foreign cas- inos were a favorite subject, and the sharp things that had been done on the turf by men of high standing were a perennial source of interest. • The sisters seemed in 110 wise out of their element in this barraule room society. They spent their days in idleness, sat about among the men, first in one room and then in an- other: played billiards, pool, or pyramids with skill and success, asked no points from any one, and pocketed a pool with the eas- iest air in the world. To Adrian the whole thing was hateful. He could not tell Helen that her father's house and manner of living were detestable, nor oould be ask her to live a life apart under her father's roof, or to put on an air of exclusiveness which would provoke ridi- cule. All he oould do was to try and get her away from that obnoxious abode. He eaing one morning charged with a let- ter from his mother. "Dear Helen, --- "Adrian wants you here again, and I want you just as badly. I loot n'iy new daughter juit as / had learned to feel that she wee a pert of my existence. Come back, dear. You have had quite enough hunting and excitement of all kinds ainee you left us. Come back and loan to reconcile you -self to the quiet life and the grave old home that must be yours in the future. However happy you may be in the eht home with your father, dear, I think it must be better for you to be in year now home with your mother, "Ever your affectionate:, B," "You have made her write this, Adrian," "Made her! My mother is not a woman to be made to write whet ehe does not feel, Helen. Yoe should know her well euough by this time to {mow that." "Oh, but I believe she would make any sem-lace for her son." “There 18 ho secrifice. She really wants you." "She ie too good, too sweet to me. How shall I ever repay her ?" "You 'will come, won't you 2" "Of course I will come. This letter is a oommatd, Yes, I ahall like to come," she added eagerly. "I bare had more than enough hunting, and this house is hateful since Frank's return." "I am so glad. I feared you liked the Hie." "No, I am used to it, and the days go by somehow. I shall be very pleased to get away from home." Mrs. Baddeley was not so pleased at los- ing her sister. "You put me in a false position," she said. "It won't be very nice for me to be the only woman among all these men." "I thought you only cared for men's so- ciety. I have never known you to culti- vate women." "Thatwas became I had you. Slaters can go anywhere and do anything. But now I tempo I shall have to take up with an outsider. Perhaps one of those Treducey girls would answer. They seem to like flirting with St. Austell, though he is a detrimental," (TO BB CONTINUED ) An' Enineer's Heroism. The Pittsburg Press, Much 13, says :— Robert Gardner, the engineer who was kill- ed in the Pennsylvania railroad wreck near Huntingdon yesterday, exhibited rant hero- ism. Passengers and railroad men who saw him suffer and watched his life gradually goingeout speak in the most touching man- ner di his noble conduct. Gardner stood bravely at his posb, and was wedged tightly between the engine and the tender. His leg was crushed. The brass steam guages of the boiler were buried in his thigh. The steam and heat was cooking his crushed leg, and in this condition he remained for almost two hours; but little complaint was made. He seemed to recognize the fact that life was only a question of a few hours with him, and he directed the trainmen and pas- sengers to give their attention to these in- jured, not to him. His hand still maintain- ed a death grip upon the throttle. His head rested upon the knees of Robb. Gib- bons of the Pullman car company. When a ralef engine arrived the wrecked engine was pulled away and the poor engineer, re- leased from his perilous position, was quickly carried into a Pullman car. Pres- ently there was a alight twitch in the muscles of his face, his eyes closed, and he. whispered, "Ly me down easy, boys; e-aes-ye" and with the lagt word his life went out. 'Life's Journey. BY ARCHIBILA011. "I will work and study, I will not fail," Cried a fluid fair, oi tender years: "I will work and win," and the brave blue eyes Looked dauntless, banishing boding fears. She toiled and won, the prize was hers, She felt elate with joy and pride, And, flushed with victory, sought to climb. The high, steep, rugged mountain side. The years sped on but brought to her Notbine'but labor, toil tr.d pain, She worked and waited, hoped and prayed, But all her efforts seemed invain, "I will carve a name," cried a dauntless giri, " I'll carve with my pen a lastingname On the glorious scroll, 'mid honored names, That stand enshrined 30 the niche of Fame 1" The dauntless eyes as brave and blue Asia the childish days of yore, The face so resolute and strong, To maiden fair resemblance bore. And they are one. But year have passed Since flushed with pride she won the prize, But still the same strong purpose etands Fatrayed on brow, and lips and eyes. " I will rest content, • cried the woman gray, "Though night has obscured my noon-d,y sun, On my branded lames, 0, teaeh me to pray, "Father in Maven, Thy will be done 1" The same blue eyes, though sadder now, Bnhanoed the pale and gentle face, That proudly resolute had se.med, But now bre soi row's 1 addened trace. No longer proudly, does she boast, But meekly bends her head to bear The world s cold, hanb,unfeeling scorn, i And conso'ation seeks n prayer. -Wa-r m Twenty Minutes. "The war of the rebellion," gelid Gen. Sickles the other evening, "was really a whiskey war. Yes, whiskey caused the re- bellion. I was in Congress preceding the war. It was whiskey in the morning—the morning cocktail—a Congress of whiskey drinkers. Then whiskey all day; whiakey and gambling all night. Drinks before Con- gress opened Mt morning session; drinks before it adjourned. Scarcely a committee. room without its demijohn of whiskey, and the clink of the glasses could be heerd in the Capitol corridors. The fights --the angry apeeches—were whiskey. The atmos- phere was redolent with whiskey, nervous excitement seeking relief in whiskey and whiskey adding to nervous excitement. Yes, the rebellion was launched in whiskey. If the French ,Assembly were to drink some morning one-half the whiskey consumed in any one day by that Congress 'France would declare war against Germany in twenty minutes." An Ottawa Boy on Corns. The following is the prize essay of a small boy in Ottawa,. The prize was a whipping from his mother for not studying his lessona instead of writing the essay: "Corns are of all kinds, vegetable and animal. Vegetable, corn grows in rows and animal corn grows, on toes. There are sev- eral kinds of corn; there is unicorn, capri- corn, field corn, and the corn which ia the corn you feel most. Corns have kernels, and dome colonels have corns. Vegetable corn grows on ears, but animal corn grows w on the feet away at the other end of the body,,, Another rival of corn is the morn, 8,nd many a man who has a corn wishes it was an aoorn, If a farmer manages well he can get a good deal of corn on one acre, but I know a farmer .that has one corn that makes the biggest acher on his farm. The biggest orop of vegetable corn a man raises, the better he liked ib, but the biggest crop of animal corn he raisea, the betterhe doesn't like it." VOUNG FOLKS. Indignant Polly Wog. BY mAnhA1Cea4 Breetree. A, tree toad dressed in apple green Set on e moray log Beside a pond, and shrilly sang Come forth my Polly Wog— My Pol—my Ly --my Wog, PylVie Mypretty PingovlelYryWawqee't to say My elender Polly Wog, " The air is moist, the moon is hid Behind a heavy fog, No stars are out to e 14, k and blink At you, my Polly NY, , My Pol—my Ly—my Wig, My My graceful Polly Wog, Oh! tarry, not beloved one, - My precious Polly Wog. Just then away went clouds and there A sitting on the log, —The other end I mean—the moon Showed angry Polly Wog. HeS small eyes {lathed, she swelled until She looked almost a frog, "Hon- dare you call me, sir," she asked " Your precious Polly Wog. "Why one would think your life was spent In some low muddy bog, I'd have you know to strange, young toada MY name's Mise 1VIery Wog. - One wild, wild laugh that tree -toed gave And tumbled off the log And on, the ground he kicked and screamed Oh I Mary, Mary Wog, °ha hlproudMaiRMYisMa 1s oh. rWog, Oh, Wog, og, Oh, goodness, gracious! What a joke, Hurrah for Mary Wog. The Pawn and the Eagles. Some twelve years ago while scouting with soldiers in central Nebraska near a pretty little stream called the Cedar, we sew over a distant ridge a huge eagle soar- ing in the air. As we watehed him he darted ferociously down, aud then came battling back in the air with angry shrieks and flapping wings to repeat the dashes again from time to time. "Tackling a rattlesnake, maybe I" "Got a gopher away from its hole, I guess l" Don't know how to get a grip on a hedge- hog, probably 1" were some of the many conjecture that came from the soldiers along the line. "Too much of a racket forany such small - fry as snakes or gophers or such varmints," remarked our guide, as we watched the eagle. "Perhaps, it's an elk or deer some Limns have woanded," he continued. So with this idea as th.e moat likely explana. tion, the guide and I rode over to investigate, mg thought bent on finding a wounded animal, which would prove the existence of hostile Indians near by, as at that time the Cedar Creek region was almost unknown to white men, the nearest settlement being sixty miles south. As we approaohed the spot over which the eagle was hovering we noticed that there were two of the birds, one of which kept on the ground, and when the one in the air made an attack the other would assist, returning to its plaoe in the high grass as the other soared upward. "I knowed it was a deer they were tack- ling," said my guide, as at a trot we ascend- ed to the aummit of a ridge and E0W a fine full-grown doe etanding at bay before the eagles. She was so intent on battling with her winged enemies that shepaid noattention to our presence, although we took no care to hide ourselves from her, and were only two or them hundred yards away. "She's wounded, o' course," said the guide, as we halted to view the proceedings, "for them eagles kuow enough not to Waste their time on a full-grown deer that is all right, an' the smell o' the blood maddens Even the eagles did not deign to notice what must have been our very conspicuous presence, and angrily ruffled their feathers and prepared for • another emelt. The one on the ground came hopping along first with arched neck and spread wings, like a fight- ing cock in the barn -yard, and when within ten or fifteen feet kept circling around, the doe facing it from whatever quarter it ap- peared, while the eagle in the air slowly ap- proached to within a foot or two, striking its wings and oecking at the doe's head. So great was this irritation from above that the desperate deer rose suddenly on her hind- feet and struck at the bird with her fore - hoofs. As she rose, the eagle on the:ground rushed rapidly toward her, and down 'she came in a second, striking at it rapidly with blows from her forefeet that could lie plain- ly heard by us so far away. I thought and hoped) that she had killed it at first, it look. 'ed so like a bundle of rumpled feathers in front of her feet, but it was only " ahem - ming," to get the deer to follow it up; a temptation so greet that the angered beast did finally make one or two savage leaps at it, striking with its forefeet; but the bild escaped, seemingly just by " the :skin of its teeth," but none the lees effectually. As the deer rushed forward, the eagle in the air swooped downward on the spot where the animal had been standing, and quiok as a flash she wheeled from her ehort pursuit and made for the new assailant. There was no doubt of her success this time. "Good 1" "Well done I" went up from both of us, as we saw the feathers fly and the eagle go screaming into the air, the other hopping away to a safe distance. "There's the whole thing in a nut -shell, Lieutenant," remarked the guide, who had eyes like a hawk. " She'e got a little fawn ith her, and them varmints are After it for 11 they're worth. There's the little beset directly under her—that thing that looks like a little rook or stick o' wood." My field-glaases soon verified his discovery and the object of the eaglee. It was the pert of one to stay on the ground, while the other hung in the air directly over the doe. If she attacked the one in the air, the other was to try and get the young one, and not succeeding, was to tempt the mother to fol, low it, leaving the fawn exposed to the attacks of the one above. These alternatine A Cucumber Legend. A encumber geed and a mustard seed ley side by side in the gold, damp earth. Pres - attacks were kept up until beth were well tired or the doe suoceisfully truck one of them, when they would retreat to regain ently they greeted. A friendship sprung their breath or straighten out their dis- hevelled feathers. How long they had been contending was, of course, ouly conjecture, but all of them looked well tired out. Weil, Lieutenant," said the guide, after the first beetle had ended with the doe's suc- cess, "we might just as well rope in that small 'toil,' for it's jest a mere matter o' time when them birds will get it if they've made up their mind to have it for break. fa,st. So we trotted ,carefully over to the nearest ridge, and from there, it a short sharp (lath, 000n had the little tod in our possession, but I must confese it Was Nome - What o.t the etpenee of my better iodine, for the mother had made a most herom defence so faro although the guide contintied to insist that to leave it was to leave it to up between them, and as their leaves un• folded the cucumber vine tenderly clasped the mustard plane and said: "Let us go on through the world insep- arable as we have hitherto been," "We will," replied the Mustard plant. And now wherever the cucumber goes the mustard is almost certain to follow. Still Searching. Mre. lijones—" I hear that young Mr. Sissy is still in search of a wife ?" Mrs. J'amith—" Why, I thought he was married Mra. Biones--" Se he as. Slie's left him. She's the one he's in search of" the eagles aud not to its mother, and he kuew the habits of the Newts and birds of , the plebes unusually well. The doe eagerly vvatelied our proceediags from the top of a ridge near by, offeriug glendid shot at about a hundred and fifty yards distance, but 1. would net allow the guide or myself to take advantage of eve op- portunity prompted by such feelings, In A few minutes she trotted away, and I really believe she was glad that he eagles, et least, had not been the captors: The little fawn got tame very fast, and by the time lie had been fed once or twice he became friendly with all, and especially so attached to the soldier who fed him that he was allowed to sleep with him, culling uPeu the blanker near by, aud licking his protec- tor's heed whenever he petted him on the head. While returning home during the next two days we did not confine the little fellow in the crate, but allowed him tislcurl up on the clothing and bedding in one(rlie wag - ens and, sleep and rest as mush e, he want- ed to. During our rests—for cavalry on the march go ahead forone or two hours and then rest for ten or twenty minutes—we al- lowed him out of the wagon, and he would go to any one that attracted his attention, seeking the man's thurnb and butting at ib in the most comical way. Even whenmarch- ing we put him down alongside the wagon aud he followed us, bleating piteously and evidently much more fearful of losing us than he had been of having us catch him a day or two before. But we were so afraid that he would get kicked by some irritable horse or mule, and his cries were so plain- tive, that we did not try it but onoe. When I got back to the post I took him to my own house to raise, named him "Joker," and gave him to understand that he must make himself at home, an assurance which he must have fully comprehended, as he certainly did make himself at ease at once, driving away all lonesomeness with his tricks and mischief. For the first two or three weeks of his life he gent much of his time hiding in the tall grass that grew under a row of willows planted along a ditch running through my yard. Here it was almost impossible to find the little scamp, and so securely did he hide that once or twice I had given up the search thinking he was lost, but if I got the milk - bottle and hold it alof 1 he would reveal him- self. He was very quick to learn tricks, and I had him perform a number the reward for which was usually a lump of sugar. My house, or "quarters," as they are termed by °army people had a wide porch in front nearly fifty feeelong. Joker was very fond of sugar, and would do anything for a lump or two, so I used to make him stand upon his hind feet and walk the whole length of the porch for eaoh hunp, holding it three or fourinches from his nose and backing ouVeas he walked forward, At first I could only get him to rise up to get the sugar, then he learned to take a step or two forward, and finally he would walk the ,vvhseili length of the porch, From this as aa saint he soon learned a number of other trick. The Scottish Patmer's Ingle ia Former Days. The time is early winter—moreteertionlar- ly, it is an evening inthe " baclersel" of the year when infant frostOare beggening to bite, The farm laboureas are leaving their various work. The herd, assisted by his dog, drives the cattle home from pasture; the maid servants, who have been winnow- ing corn, are glad of the rest which gloam- ing brings; and thresher John, tired in every limb, is shutting the hart door. With- in the farmhouse preparations have igen made for their home -coming; the spacious kitchen is clean and comfortable, there is a huge fire of peat and turf in the ample chim- ney, and supper is just ready. The goodman himeelf enters, and his eye bespeaks appro- val of the good wife's management, " ilka turn is handled to his mind." There is abundance of savoury hall brose, hot butter- ed scones, and home -brewed ale— Weel kens the gudewile that the pleughs require heartsome meltith'and refreshing synd Of nappy liquor o'er ableezing are; Sear work and poortith downa weel be joined. The entire household, master and servant, mistress and maid, sit down at the same table to supper. Let no one despise their homely fare. The keil-brose of auld Scot- land is the "wale of food" both to work upon and to fight upon. It was the fare of those heroic ancestor:3 of ours who turned Ike Romans, overthrew the Danes, and won the independence of the country. After supper coherent conversation begms, much promoted by the genial influence of the cheering " bicker " or mug. of strong ale. The weather is always an Important topic with country folks; and that, therefore, they ,discuss first, nob as needless prologue to their after -talk, but as a matter of the first magnitude. The rustic mind is a meteorological register, which can furnish date and details of the past weather, for many months in retrospect at command. But the efficiency of the register oan only be maintained by constant use; so the genial shows of vanished summers and the de- structive spates of well -remembered winters are recalled to reproduce the feelings they formerly evoked. Then follows the news of kirk and of market—the approaching marriage of Jock and Jenny, or, it may be, the misfortune which brings Marion to the cuttyatool. The children are now quiet, listening to their elders— " The fiont it cheep's among the bairnies noo, For a' their anger's wt' their hunger gane." They are seated together in front of the fire, which, with the dimly burning eruizie, sheds an enlivening but unsteady light throtigh the shadowy apartment. It is now that the An- cient granny opens to them the supernatural world, of which, with leer wrinkles and her cracked and quavering yelp, she her- self almost seems to be a denizen. Her tale is of warlocks and hobgoblins and ghosts, of dreier glens and silent churchyards. The effect which her narrationeproduces upon her listeners is picturesquely noticed—" it touzles a' their tap." It is aback view we get of them, against the glow of the fire. Granny's belief in &nib and fairies is firm, and in the mischievous develries they work about a. farm. Why He Was Sad. 'Visitor -44 And so, my poor man, you are truly sorry for what has brought yet here ?" Prisoner—" Yes, indeed, ma'am." Visitor (sympathetically) ;— " What was it I" Prisoner—" Gettit' found out, ma'am." "How dared you sell me bad fish yester- day ?" asked an angry housekeeper of an itinerant fishmonger. " 'Twas your own fault, marm. I offered it to you five day0 before." Sine, P171:01/40, --One oup each of raisins, ctirratits and sUbt ehopped fine, three cups a flout, one onp of milk, two towboat; of baking powder; boil two hours. ase