The Exeter Times, 1889-3-28, Page 2THE EXETER TIMES.
Is publisne a every Thursday in
;TIMES STEAM PR NUNS HOUSE
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Store, Exeter, Q.by JohaWhite& Sous,Pro-
p rotors
naTss AnvnaTrexo ;
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To insure insertion, eaverteseineedis sheald
De sent in not later than nieduesday morning
OurJOB PRINTING- DEP AailtttlINT is one
1 the )gest a ea best equipped in the County
I Reran All wora entrusted to us will render
ur protupt attention:
Decisions Rearding W S-
PaperS.
Ana person whotakes a paperregularlyfrom
he •Post -office, whether aireetecl in his name or
another's. or whetleer he haft subscribed or ziet
is responsible for payment,
2 If a person order e hie paper discontinued
320 MUSt pay all aerears or the publisher may
oontinue to send it antil the -payment is made,
and the collect the whole amount, whether
the paper is taken from the office or not.
s I auits for subscriptions, the suit may be
lastitated intim place where the paper is nub-
ished, althoueb the subsoriber may reside
hundreds of ranee away.
The courts have decided that refusing to
take newspapers or peeiodioals from the post.
•office, or remoeing and leaving them uncalled
or is prima facie evidence of intention alfraull
COMMENT ON MEN'S WEAR.
Very pale tints will run this Spring.
The twice -round has nob made a Mt.
A stylish bar coat is of white duck clotted
with frogs.
Retailers report a boom in pearly grey
evening dress gloves.
Novelties in cameo stone for umbrella
handles are worth looking up.
Nature has to pave the way for the man
who would look well in knee breeches.
Velvet collars on dress suits, a London fad
in a small way, has not emelt on here.
Fur collars and ouffs fcr overcoats are
sold by New York outfitters at from $5 up
per set.
Toilet riquisities—dressing-cases and the
like—are gaining more and more space in
the outfibtera' stock.
Some of the new scarfs make a fellow as
conspicuous as a highly polished name.plate
on a shabby front door.
The clothiers all over the country report a
decided increase in the demand for ready-
made swallow -tail coats.
The ear muff business among the retailers
in this part of the country has not been a
howling success thia Winter.
White effecte in full-dress jewelry continue
in great demand, though the plain gold is by
no means losing its popularity.
Detachable cape overcoats made up in
Sootch and English tweed have the patterns
just bold enough to distinguish the wearer
in a crowd.
MaDV a mozher has learned for the first
time that her eldest born has ideas of his
own when he turned up his nose at the
trousers she had made for him.
Match boxes, cigar ceses, gentlemen's
toilet sets and other knic-knace, left over
from the holiday trade, are being offered at
about one.third of their original coat, by a
well known New York retailer as "oobillion
favors."
Sailor knots of moderate size are worn by
many cf the most fastidious dressers in pre-
ference to all other ideas in neck -wear forms.
Thee represent the class of Merl who are
slow to take to novelties and follow the
same rut season after season.
A National Danger.
An engineer, on being asked how he ac-
counted for the great frequency and height
of floods for a few years baok as compared
with the pastreplied that ib was due to the
removal of the forests from the country.
We may, therefore, look for an increase of
the evil from year to year. This has been
the experience of all countries whose early
condition was that of forest. Not only do
annual floods carry destruction and ensuing
disease to the cities and farmsteads along
the river banks till i
either the river water s
fenced out by dykes or the people are driven
from the shores. That is perhaps the least:
part of the evil. The land that has been de -
eluded of trees becomes denuded also incourse
of time of soil, the rush of waters after heavy
rains carrying off those qualities of the soil
which fit it for the food of vegetable life, and
hills that at one time furnished sustenance for
nappy villages become a poor home for
economical sheep and goats. The surplus
of population becomes a problem which can
only be settled by emigration. In countries
not epecultarly favored, as Great Britain is,
with near surroundings of cloudy seas, the
evils of the dreughb are greater than'
evils of the Rood. In the absence of forests
which are the great reservoirs of moisture,
retainieg it in the day of plenty and giving
ie forth gently in the time of need, countries
with large land areas experience long
droughts. Canada has just begun to know
what drougnts mean. She need not imagine
that these are merely occasional visitations
against which no provision is to be made.
We have been for ¢ury making prepar a -
tions to welcome the droughta of Asia and
when they. come they come to stay. Then for
the watering of our now heavenamoietened
soil we shall, unless we are wise in thriet be
reduced like the fellahs of Egypt to irriga-
tion, a process which the prices we get for our
products will not cover. We have laid bare
much land which lb will never pay to culti-
vate, but which will bear trees as well as
any. Such land should all be returned to
forest. In some places it is sufficient to let
it alone, simply protecting it from all des-
tructive influences and thinning the wooct as
it grows. Le other places it will pay to plant.
Though the crop iS not soon reaped, yet it
adds to the money value of the land, and in
toy case it is a debt due to the country and
to posterity. Men may indeed hope them-
selves to profit; by the good to which they
centribute. In some of the western regiona
where forests were wanting: the land Qom-
paratively barren and the rivers nearly emp.
ty or twenty yeare which has even made
the rivers tavie,alale. We need only say
that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound
of cure and far cheaper.
Oab of 419 Swords recently tested in
England only 363 ponied the standard ;
twenty-five were broken in the staking teat.
The Atnericert boodlera now resident in
Canuale, are reported to be getting up a
purse to defeat lldr. Weldon' s iiixtradition
Bill, The efteob of this report will pro.
bably be to insure the passage of the bill by
exeiting the alarm and indignatiot of incm-
leers who mighe otherwise be honestly op- t
poeed to it. The American gentlemen will
spiend their mohey tnore wisely hi compro. a
ameba with their vietint while there is yet ,
time, s
THE IJESER'Itilli FA
A TRAGIC STORY'.
INTRODUCTION.
It was my regular habit, while I resided,
Itt lYlontreal, Canada Bast, to spend six or
aiglit weeks of every en alum ida travelling
in Canada, or in the Uaited Statea. bad
ig tbie way, vieited tbe greater portion el
the Upper Province, Niagara Falls, Sara.
toga Springs, the City of New York, Pnila.
delpnia, and the capital of Waehington ;
and, no one occasion, had penetrated into
the Far West, until I reached Kansas,
One summer I renolved to ohange my
rout, and instead of going westward I de.
termined to make a tour through the eastern
districts of Lower Canada, where the French
Canadian inhabitants still retain the
peculiar oharacteristios of their Non:oaths
ancestors.
With this object- in view, I travelled along
the southern shore of the St. Lawrence
until I reached the little village of St.
Cllaude, where at I resolved to sojourn for
hree or four weeks.
St. Claude amends of one long street of
wooden cottages. There is the usual wheel-
wright's a blacksmith's, andoarpenter's shop,
and a general store. A short dietanoe from
the main street stands the little toylike,
whitewashed, red.roofed Roman Catholic
ohurch, neer whioh is the residence a mon.
deur le Cure—the largest and neatest cob-
tage in the village.
The residents of St. Claude (like those of
Lower Canada generally) are certainly a
primitive people. With the exception of
M. le Cure, scarcely a dozen among them—
and they number some four hundred—have
ever journeyed fifty miles from their homes.
The villagers all dress alike in the anoient
cesium of Normandy. The young evoinen
and girls, however, displayed their abund-
ant ebony tresses, uncovered by cap or bon.
net; and being very neatly arranged, chey
present a very attractive appearanoe.
As a rule, these people are in a state of
perfect ignorance, not one in fifty being
able to read or write, or caring to acquire
the knowledge. They are, in fact, well
satisfied to follow in the footsteps of their
forefathers --chiefly to make their own gar-
ments, to cultivate their email tenures in the
old.fashioned style, and to live and die in
their native village.
I did not find it an easy matter to procure
lodgings in Se. Claude; there is no hotel,
and most of the cottages contain but two
rooms. llowever, after much difficulty, I
obtained apartments at a farnahouse of the
superior class, occupied by one Pierre Junot,
his wife, and family.
On the fourth day of my sojourn at the
farm -house, I strolled away towards Cape
Stu Anne; and having clambered to the
summit of the lofty cliff whioh overhangs
the river, stood a long while gazing around
me at the fine and majestic scenery I was
enabled to sureey from the eminence I had
gained.
Long I stood watching the effects of light
and shadow upon the water, where not a ves-
sel could be seen, save, pernhance, some ice-
bound wreak upon the rooky shore, and
where the country in the rear, now green
and fertile, and rejoicing in the beauty of
Bummer, would be shrouded beneath a pall
of glittering snow, from amidst which the
trees, denuded of their now brilliant foliage,
would rise like so many 'spectral objects
scattered over ehe drear landscape.
At length, I turned aside, when my atten-
tion was arrested by what appeared to me to
be a ruined and deserted farm -house of a de-
scription very far superior to any at present
existiug in this part of the province.
Ib stood in a deep valley, a mile or more
distant. Several outhouses were seemingly
attached to it, and it was surrounded by
large Beide and pastureegrounds ; but, so far
as I could perceive, the place presented a
singular aspect of gloom. Not a human
being, nor even a solitary animal of any de-
ecriptien, was bo be discerned from the emi-
nence upon which I stood, and which com-
manded a perfect view of the entire estate.
Altogether, the place presented a strange
and startling contrast to the generally bright
and smiling summer landscape. Such a
sight would have been remarkable in any
part of the world, but it was especially sin*
guiar in a coraparatively new country, in
which ruins do not forra one of the attrac-
tions in the eyes of travellers and strangers,
and in which, as yet, nothing has been left
to decay.
I looked at.my watch. It was yet early
in the day, and I resolved to descend into
the valley, and discover whether the farm
was, in reality, the desolate spot it appear-
ed to be viewed from a distance.
As I drew near the house, the absence of
any trodden pathway seemed to confirm the
opinion I had formed while' gazing upon the
spot from the summit of the cliff. Evident-
ly there had once existed a tolerably broad
road, leading, apparently, from the valley to
the village, and several wide footpaths
crossed and recrossed each other; but all
had been long disused.
I turned the angle of a copse, the trees of
which were surrounded with undergrowth,
and entwined by parasites, and eanie into
full view of the house. was a large, roomy
structure, which might have served, in the
earlier days of the province, for the country
seat of a nobleman. Vestige's of carving
and other ornamentation were still visible
over the door and window.% The palings sur-
rounding the garden had rusted and fallen ;
the paths and, flower.beds were overgrown
with grass and weeds; the roof of the house
and the chimneys had fallen in ; the win-
dow frames and glass were shivered to
atoms, not a single entire pane of glen re.
maining ; the whole front of the house was
blackened by age, and overrun with fungi,
and every surrounding object presented a
sad aspect of ruin and desolation. The out -
homes) barns, &o.,vvere in a similar State
of dilapidation ; the large leitchen.garden
and orchard in the rear of the dwelling, and
the large fields and pasture. grounds, had
evidently been uncultivated for many years,
and had become a mazy. wilderness; even
the neighbouring Words appeared as though
they had long been left to solitude, shunued
both by man and beast.
My outictiny induced me to enter the
aarden—the gate of which lay deeply em-
bedded in the soil—and peer into the house
through the windowe or the doorway, the
door iteelt hanging half open on ono rusty
bingo.
1 would indeed have entered the house,
but tae passage was strewn with the debris
that had fallen from the ceiling, and had
blocleed up the patlour doore on either eide,
and I saw that the staircase Was broken,
and the stairs were in each a rotten condi-
tion that they were unsafe,if not impassable.
The walls, like the outside of the house,
were over -grown with fungi, and pools of
Water) which had dripped from the broken
oof, were visible on the floor. A sickly,
mouldy, deathelike smell prevailed the place,
nd wag glad to tarn away and breathe
he fresh mit, after having stood in the pa -
age for half a Minute, AO I posed the
open apertures what'll had once been win
-
awn, 1 looked in through One of them, and
saw that the room was largo, and that the
wane end ceilings were in a similar condition
tr0 thee° of the passage. What, however,
struck Me with arnaztheent, wile the discov.
ery that the abundant, and apparently mace
handsome and coetly, furniture of the apart-
ment still remained within ib; the chairs
and tables, the large mirror over the mantel-
piece, the sideboardloaded with china orna-
ments, and the picturesin gilded frames on
the wall—rare things to be met with, even, at
the present day,. in this remote portion of the
Praninae—remamed as they had been placed
when the house was tenanted; but were cov-
ered with dust and dirt, and blackened by
damp and age.
On my return through the front garden, I
remarked, with surprise, a large, almose
circular spot in the centre, which was per -
feebly denuded of grass, or vegetation 'of any
description; the soil having, apparently, been
calcined by the action of fire, and which Vie
anted a strange and startling contrast to the
Luxuriant, though rank, vegetaticriaby which
It was'surrounded.
On again consulting my watoh, I found
that I ehould barely have time to retrace my
my steps to my lodgings before the dinner
hour; and, to tell the truth, I was not Sorry
to get away from the singular spot into whioh
I had penetrated. I hastened, therefore, to
climb the steep hill which led to the sum.
mit of the cliff and the road to St, Claude.
As I passed through the valley on my re-
turn, I could not help remarking the strange
absence of aninicil lite. Not a hare, rabbit,
squirrel, or weasel--theugh these creatures
abounded in the neighborhood—notified my
path. I did not hear the song or chirrup of
a bird, nob even the buzz of an insect. The
only audible sound was the whispering of the
lofty pines and cedars; and to my excited
fancy, there was something unearthly in the
sound, heard amid the stremge solitude, as
though evil apirits were whispering in the
upper
he utter loneliness in which I found my.
self weighed upon my spirits, and it was with
a feeling of positive relief that I was once
more deer of the valley, and on the summit
of the cape; then turning about, and gazing
again for a minute at the deserted farm, I
made the best of my way homewards.
On my arrival there, I found that I was
late, and that: old Janet, and his wife and
elder children, were—with the French Can-
adian politeness—waiting dinner ; although
the younger children were already seated at
their own little table, busily occupied in
dimming their pottage.
I apologized for my tardiness, and express-
ed my regret that they had waited for me,
and in five minutes we were all seated
around the table, whioh was spread with an
abundant and wholesome, though humble,
meal.
"M'sieur must be fatigued. He has walk-
ed far ?" said the motherly Madame Janet.
"Yes, madame," I replied. "I rambled a
considerable distance beyond the Cape.
Nevertheless, the day is fine, the walk was
pleasant, and I am not at all fatigued."
And then, being curious to learn the history
cifthedeserted farm, I related my adventure.
Had a bombshell fallen through the roof
of the 'peaceful cottage, the listeners could
Bearably have appeared more disconcerted.
Pierre Junot and his wife dropped their
'knives and forks, and raised their eyes as if
'in appeal to %heaven. The, elder son and
daughter almost started from their chairs,
and even the younger children 'Poked. amaz-
ed.
At length madame found utterance.
"You have truly, then, visited the sours.
ed farm 2" she exclaimed. "Yet what mer -
ay that you have returned safe. Never
should I have pardoned myself had any evil
' befallen you. It would have been my fault.
I should have warned you. I should have
warned you. I should have told you to
avoid the much dreaded spot. You are a
stranger, and Providence has protected you;
say, than, you will not go thither again."
I nesitated to make any promise, howe (en
and requested my worthy hostess to give
me the history of the farm and its former
inhabitants, and to explain to (me by what
means it became forsaken, and reduced to
its present ruinous and desolate condition.
Pierre and his wife and his son and
daughter, however, alike hesitated to grati-
fy my curiosity. In facia to a certain de-
gree, they professed ignorance.
"There are many stories," said Madame.
"Ws do not speak of it. it is regarded as
unlucky to allude to the subject. We avoid
the spot which has for many years been
accursed. Yet stay," she added, ,'If
M'sieur is really curious to learn the history
of the odious place, the cure will no doubt
be willing to gratify his desire. He is se-
cure from the machinations of evil spirits."
With this I was content, since a subsequ-
ent endeavour to obtain the information
I sought from the eldest son of my host
and hostess proved to be a complete fail-
ure. The young man evidently did not
like to talk on the subject.
My curiosity was all the more excited in
consequence of this strange reticence on the
part of my host and hie family, and 1 resolv-
ed, if possible, to solve the mystery from the
lips of the cure, whose acquaintance, how-
ever, I had nob yet made.
Monsieur Dubois, dure of the parish of St.
Maude, was a short, stout, fresh -coloured
man, of about sixty yearsof age. For twenty-
five years he had officiated as cure of the
parish. He was a cheerful, kind-hearted,
:heritable man, indefatigable in the perform-
ance ot what he considered to be hie duty,
and beloved as wdl as revered by the simple-
minded, honest lieople with whom his lot
was oast, who looked up to him not only as
their spiritual pastor, but also as their advis-
er in all temporal difficulties.
Hitherto I had merely bowed in return to
M. Duleoie'S polite salutation' as he passed
the house at whioh I lodgedone morning
while I was sttolling in the garden. I puede
up ray mind, hovaever, to attend mass at the
little parieh church the next Sabbath, think.
in that the most likely way to secure the
ffiendehip of the good father, and perhaps
procure an invitation to visit hie cottage,
especially as I had been informed that he
wad always glad to receive the visits of the
few strangere who catne to St. Claude'and
to hear the news from tho outer world,from
whioh he, good man, had been al) long seolud.
ed.
The next, Sunday, accordingly, I made
appearance in the ohurch, and Was politely
accommodated with a seat near the altar,
although the edifice wail thronged to such a
degree that many, of the worshippers &mid
not fled standing room, and were compelled
to 'Wait outside the ehurch doors. After
eervica, arid when the good priest had
heaped blessings on the ohildten of hie
parishioners, he perceived mei and dep.
ping forward, cordially welcomed me to
Ste Claude,
"We it adorn see strangers," said he, "A
strange ie a realty hi our emote village,
siteraltivorsitlit
and therefore we ought te welcome them all
the more gladly when they do us the honour
of videing us, Dies Monsieur imond to
remain loug at Si. Claude
"Throe or four weeks," I replied.
Then" field he, we must become friends.
I ehala he happy to 13130 you at my humble
dwelling ; 'and as your time is limit, the
sootier we, beootno friends the letter.
Will you do me the honour ro dine with me
toi Morrow ?''
This was just the sort of invitetion
I had, hoped for, and, of Connie, I gladly
noTonheI:
ntpXpity, at four o'cloOk in the afber
at the door of the oure's cot-
.
partae°"eIPttto4ellacifnree gaae rcedu tal ea en hof"")MuornBIntUrnlit
CM," said 1; and yeah this we wished.
each other good day.
tage, and was admitted by his housekeeper,
who conducted me to the dining -room.
where I found the good father apparently
anxiously awaiting my appearance.
CHAPTER I.
BETRoTECAL AND TILE ELOPEMENT.
M. Dabois's household oonsiated of him-
self, an aged female, leis housekeeper, and a
little girl of ten years of age; the former the
widow, and the latter the orphan daughter
of a fisherman of the village, who had per-,
ished in the exerciee of their perilous occu-
pation to whom the good priest had given
a comfortable and happy home.
We sat down together to a plain but ap-
petising repast, after whioh we adjourned to
a little summer -house in the garden, whither
the housekeeper brought a bottle of excellent
will`
e
" Coma, fill your glass. You will fled the
wine of the best quality, though I never in
dulge in it save when 1 have visitors."
After a brief conversation on various top-
ics'I ventured to introduce the subject
which chiefly occupied my thoughts.
"Alt 1 the accursed fare& 1" exclaimed my
host. "So, then, you have already visited
the spot? You would learn its history?
Ala my friend 1 'tie a sad and painful story.
Still, if you oare to listen, I will relate it to
you. Come, let us go in -doors. It is grow-
ing dark and the air is always chilly after
sunset, at Sb. Claude. We shall find a fire
in my study. Gertrude will bring us
another bottle of wine, and I will tell the
story.
In the course of a tew minutes we were
seated by the fire in the good oure's cosy
little study. We both replenished our
glasses, and M. le Cure, having settled him.
self comfortably in his easy chair, proceed-
ed with the narrative of the "accursed
farm."
"Nearly a century has elapsed," com-
menced M. le Cure, "though already the
province has passed from the posaession of
France to that of Great Britain, sinoe An.
toine Desjarniers, and his wife? Lisette'im-
migrated into Canada from their nativeNor-
mancly.
"Antoine Desjarniers was of a class super-
ior to the ordinary emigrants from Franco.
He was, in fact, a small landowner, and
when he had sold his farm and stock; in
Normandy, he found himself in possession
of a considerable capital wherewith to
°eminence operations in the new oountry of
his adoption.
" This gave him a vast advantage over his
fellow immigrants. He not only purchased
a much larger traot of land than they, with
their more limited means, were able to secure
to themselves; and supplied himeelf abun-
dantly with catble and sheep, and every var-
iety of necessary agricultural implements ;
but he was likewise looked up to with respect,
by his less loran:tate countrymen. And well,
according to all accounts, was he worthy of
the respect and -regard voluntarily accorded
to him. He, and his fair young wife, to
whom he had been wedded only a feweweeks
before he quitted France, were kind and
generous to the sick and aged ; were always
ready to extend a helping hand to the poor
and needy; and were prepared at all times
to take the lead in every movement that
seemed calculated to tend to tho welfare and
happiness of the litble community.
"They prospered, as the kind and good
deserve to prosper; and within ten years
from the date of hie:settlement at St.Claude,
Antoine Desjarniers created a large and
commodious dwelling, with barns and out-
houses adjoining; and imported furniture,
and plateau, and various costly ornaments
from France, which caused his house to he
regarded as the wonder ot the surrounding
country, and as a fitting residence for the
proudest and wealthiest seigneur in- the
provinoe.
"Alas 1 house and furniture, outhouses
and farm, have been alike, for many, many
years, neglected and deserted, and left to
ruin and decay,
"About twelve months after the arrival
of Antonio and his wife in their adopted
country, their mutual happiness was in-
creased bylhe birth of a son and heir, who
was named Felix, after his maternal grand-
father. Felix grew up to become is fine,
handsome boy, alike the delight and pride
of doting parents, who now only craved for
a daughter to crown their felicity. This
craving, however, Providence, doubbless for
wise reasons, saw fit not to gratify. At
length they resolved, if possible, to adopt a
little girl as their own; bub this they found
no such easy matter as they had anticipated.
Although the community consisted chiefly
of poor farmers and fishermen, there was
not one father or mother among them who
was willing to 'Dart with any one of their
own little daughters, even in favour of the
Desjarniers, much as they were loved and
respected. There were none so poor as to
find the cost of supporting a family a burden
to them: On the contrary, in that young
and thriving community, children were re-
garded as a source of wealth, and the larger
a man'e family, the greater he accounted his
riches. The poor fishermen and farmers
feared lest a daughter adopted by the weal-
thy' Desiarniers should become proud, and
forgetful, or neglectful, of the authors of her
being.'
ihere was one sweet little girl, who
bade fair to grow up the belle of the village,
upon whom, especially, Madame Desjarniers
looked with a Meting of eavy thab she could
not °learn the child as her own. This girl's
name was Jambe Legris. She was the only
ehild of a widower—Meru Legris, who was
one of the poorest fidherrnen in St. Claude ;
but not for ten times the wealth of the Des-
jarniers, twice told, would he have parted
with his little ewe -lamb, his only earthly
treasure, for 'whose Sake he toiled night and
day, and often went forth to see in times of
stotm and danger that kept his brother fish-
ermen at home in their suug cabins, that he
might increase his there, and provide
dowry for his darling Ageing the time When
she would arrive at a marriageable age,
"Alae ! poet Selene Legrie dared the ele-
ments once too often. His little bark Vvv.8
catight id a heavy gale in the estuary of the
St. Lawrence, ancl beither he nor his little
veseel ivere seen Or heard of more. Poor
little Louise was id e an orphan at nine
years of age—an otplian, Without near re-
latione, but not ftiendiese, few there was not
ft family in the village or parish of St. ClautIO,
that Would not liath gladly Sheltered the
poor little child, and adopted her se One oi
their Own,
"Now, however, there was ao obstacle in
the way of the gratification ot Madame I) es-
jarniere' desire. Willing as they weo to
adopt tile little orphan therneelvee, the
fathom and mothers of -the viUag peroplved
that they would be etending in the way ef the
and ei belie interests ehould they put en
claimin opposition to the wiehos of their
wealthier and kind-hearted neighbor. Most
oe them slreadk had daugh NM of their own;
MadaMe Deejarniers had none; and, there,
fore, with the general approbetien of the
community, the little Louise Legrie bethine
the adopted daughter of the wealthy farmer
and his wife.
"Felix Desjarniers had at this period just
completed his twelfth year. j.re was a noble,
manly boy, with dark eyes and hair, and a
fine open expression of counteminge. The
little Louise was ilia three years his junior
goIdetahaired, blue-eyed child, with
pretty, delicate features, is graceful form,
and an expression of countenance tn which
the arohnese of girlhood was mingled with a
eiveet pensiveness rarely seth in one tio
3 buthful.
"ho good, siinple 'villagers used to de-
clare thee she was the very insage of the
Madonna whioh stood in the niche about the
church porch.
"1 can' only say," said the worthy priest,
in parenthesis, with a smile, "that the
image of theMadorma whithithen adorned the
ohutoh must have been very much
handsomer than the present one, or the good
folk must have sadly maligned the child.
"It was, moreover, a common remark
that no two children could have been found
bottler suited to hold the relative positiona
of brother and sister than were Felix and
Louise, who 00011, citing t� love eaoh other as
dearly as a real brother and sistee could have
lotted. Happy'had it been had this brotherly
and sisterly love never been disturbed by a
love more passionate, and still more tender.
Happy, perhaps, had it been if M. and
Madame Desjarniers had remained content
with the one ohild whom heaven had be-
stowed opon, them, and not oraved so long-
ingly after a daughter, whom Providence
had seen fib to withhold from them. Often-
times, alas 1 the boon which we poor, short-
sighted mortals most earnestly crave, proves
to be the fertile source of our future great-
est affiiotion
"To proceed, however, veith my story.
"Years passed away, and Felix and Louise
—who had assumed the surname of her
foster -parents—were already on the verge of
man and womanhood,—the one nineteen,
the other sixteen, years of age, and were
universally acknewledged to be the hand-
somest youthful pair in the pariah of St.
Claude. Both had been well educated for
this position—Felix at the college az Quebec,
and Louise at is sohool at Trois Rivieres ; and
both had reburned homeifor good. About a
twelvemonth after their return a great
change had taken place in their feelings to-
wards each other. They no longer appear-
ed as brother and sister, but regarded each
other iith a stronger and more tender affec-
tion. In fact, they had secretly become be-
trothed to each other,. and looked forward
to the day when they should become matt
and wife. Nor were Monsieur and Madame
Desjarnieirs blind to the change that had
taken plaoe itt their children s sentimente ;
and though they were ignorant of the fact
of their secret betrothal, they were far from
being averse to their future union. The
fair Louise had been to them all` that a
daughter could possibly have been; nor
could they have loved a daughter of their
own more dearly. They rejoiced,therefore,
at the thought that Louise's marriage would
not separate them, but that the youehial
couple would still continue to live with them
at the farm -house, until death should remove
them to a happier world, where they would
await an eternal reunion with their beloyed
children.
"Monsieur and Madame Desjarniers had
continued to plover, and their wealth had
increased to such a degree, that there.were
few few hi bhe province who were possessed
of greater riches; though M. Desjarniers
assumed no upstart airs, but still continued
Go live the simple, quiet life of a humble
farmer. Nothing, meanwhile, had occurred
to disturb the even tenor of their way.; and
and it appeared as if heaven had exempted
them from the ordinary sorrows and troubles
which afflict poor mortals in almost every
condition of life. It had been at length ar-
ranged that the marriage of Felix and Louise
should take place when the former had coin -
plated his twenty.first year, and when Louise
would, consequently, be eighteen yearn of
age;. and Et public betrothal, followed by a
grandjete given to all the villagers by M.
Desjarniers, soon afterwards took place.
Felix would. have been better pleased had
the wedding -day 'been fixed at an earlier
period; and perhaps Louise was secretly on
her lover's side. Both however, were eon -
tent to abide 'by the wishes of their parents.
" Everything, in fact, seemed to go smooth.
ly with the Desjarniers—aged and youthful;
yet a terrible calamity was swiftly approach-
ing, which would shatter all their dearest
hopes, and blight their happiness for ever.
But I must not anticipate my story. It
lacked but five months to the day appointed
for the wedding of the youthful couple
when M. Desjarniers came back from Nov.
Scotia, whither he had gone to peaches()
cattle. He had made a large purchase ; and
having arranged for the reception of the cat-
tle on leis farm, he was about to return to
Nova Scotia in order to bring them home,
when Felix, who probably felt the time
wearisome as the day of his marriage drew
near, and withed the intervening space to
pass over as speedily as possible, expressed
his earnest deeire to proceed to Nova Scotia
in his father's place. It was expected that
it would occupy four monthito complete the
journey to and fro, and that would bring
his wedding day close at hand.
(TO DE CONTINUED)
Neverthelees, She Got Left.
They manage these things better in Arkani
sae. A member of the Legislature of that
Stete recently had occasion to nominate a
young lady for the offloe of enrolling clerk.
He is reported as having inet the responsi-
bility of his position in this superb manner:
"1 shall not say that the one I name is a�
beautiful es the angels are, for 1 have never
seen an angel and know not how beautiful
they are, hut I will say that • if angels look
like the lovely maiden Whose name I put in
nomination the angels are bee,utifulindeedi''
Veteranpelitioranewho have never missed at-
tending apolitical convention for the hist
quarber of aterentrY and more agree beat
they never heard a candidate placed in
nomination eo beautifully. Ana did the
young lady get the place, the entire
Legislature gallantly supporting her by
acelametion ? Alas for man's inhumanity to
woman, the got left, owing to the feet that
another candidate received more votee.
What a sad world it is in pieces.— [N. Y,
Tribune.
Tuning Off the Gas
She (treittulously)i—ii George, papa threat -
CDS to tithe oft the gas if you ,atay altor ten
biotin* to -night." Efe (delightedly)" Let
him, let hull. That just what I want, .Xcver judge a Ulan by the coat he 'wean.
He mail say I did it." It rnay be a borrowed one.
It Made
Mother Strong
eMy mother line beeu
Using Pereues Caen'
comrousa rot noryoua
preetration, accompan-
ied by melauoliolia,
eto., and it has done
her a won!'l of good.
11 is the nlymeUt-
tine that strength,
ens tho nerves.' .
G. E. DDSS%
oriesenia,
Pa.
"1 ani in my 61.th. year. Have 'been atilloted
several ways—C9111C1 not sleep, bad no appetite,
pnoaincoehsroatie,rylocwomoppirounnsa, aInodorpeuitierieeleitiet utsrioning
• the third clay after using it. 1now1pvo r good
appetite =Lean sleep well. Ili spirits and
Courage are almost like those of a yeung mane,
8. C. KINEALD D. 1) Glonzales La.
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their infirmities. Alieumatism, indigestion and
nervousness yield quichly te the curattvepower
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A Perfect Toren and Invigorator, It
°IVES NEW LIFE.
"lam now Gs years old and Attie tried several
remedies, but none had any effect until I used
Paine's Celery Compound. 1. feel entirely dif..
ferent tor the shorb time I have usednt. I can
walk nearly straight, sleep sound and well, and
feel as though there was new Me and energy/
, Coming' Into my whole system.,,
11. terteos, Cleveland, Tenn.
•
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Exeter Butcher Shop.
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1. EINDsor----
M A T
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ficznarssasetmancormsawrgswpAzasmvmstatea=0,
A Woman's Invention.
A French schoolmistress, Mlle. Mulot, liv-
ing at Angers, has invented an ingenious
method by which the blind can easily corres-
pond with those who see. The invention is,
therefore, a marked improvement on 'the
Braille system of raised letters, by which
persons afflicted with loss of sight correspond
with each other only. Mlle. Ivlulth's ripper.
atue is redly a little printing press in
portfolie about the size of it sheet ot note-
paper. The blind person spreads ib out and
impresses the letters required on white paper,
under vehicle there is it colored pad which
gives them a blue appearance and they are
thus not only brought out in reliet for the
touch of those deprived of sight, bub are abdo
visible to the eyes of those who see. One of
Mlle. IVfulote blind pupils has beeh able, by
means of this Finite t, to take part in it earn -
'native examination for the diploma of ele-
mentary teacher, and to "distance" some of
the candidates who Were in poSeeNSion of
their visual fsioulties.
Sinks Aloolishea.
Judae has been officially abolishefin the
'island of Madeira. It has beetractime-
honoured mitten' of the actives to exhibit
in one of their nutnerous religious proceernons
an effigy of Judas, Upon Which the oppro-
brium of the populace was duly heaped,
and at tbe clots of the day Judas
was burned with vociferous -expreseions
of triumph and joy. Of late years it
hae happened that the effigy of Judas
has borne is striking rthemblanee to Some
minion upon whom the general public has
ceased to smile, and thug the governor of the
inland, the mayor of Funchal, and is foreign
consul have been caricatured 13 the proces-
dons and burned in effigy. The powers that
be have decided that the admixture of poli,
tics and religion is not wholesome, and so
the edict has gone forth that hereafter the
people /Inlet get along Without jedete-- [Now
3tork Sun.