Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1892-2-25, Page 6'ahe Inevitable Wog. Tbbs world ain't what tt aster be." The oldest settler cried, • "allot's so, lettoth, as we Wieser," His satelliteit replied. • e And then they boese4 the deb OPIMI'"' They had a-pluntr trate— And eta' the world. Jogged not so well As in WO ancient prima * q * * 'Twas etrer thus; old, age must vex Its soul at now learned triolor, For ere it preset in its doctor 'Most every creature kicks. A. BARITONE'S DEVOTION OR A TALE Oa' SUNNY MALY. CHAPTER XII. a meratersnie NIGHT. Love! but a day, An i the world is °hanged 1 The suns wee', , • And t bird estraugeu ; The wind has dropped.. And the sky deranged ; Summer has stopped. ft. Bummer°. Francesca kepb up bravely all through the long hours of that Whitsun Monday; et dinner she talked a little more than Usual to cover Carlo's silence, but it was karst work, and she gave a sigh of relief When at length the ordeal was over, and she was free to go away alone. Carlo stood ep to open the door for her, and as she passed him she looked up into his eyes and amiled ; but once within the friendly shel- ter of the drawing -room her own fille'd with tears. She would have given much to run ep to her room and have a good cry ; that Was out of the question, however, fur she could not plead a headache when by so doing she should lose Cub's good iright. the sound of the dining -room door op :tang made her beat a hasty retreat frone the lamp light; she stood in the shade, and castle as though she were looking out of the Window, while she hurriedly dried her eyes, • for not for the world tvoulti she have been • Caught crying. Mr. Britton, coining into the room, clouded the slim figure in its black lace dross, and came toward her. My sweet Fran," he said, "if you will net think me the lazieat old uncle in the world? I am going to bid you egood-night. Here is a budget of letters which I shall get through better in my own room." "Mut you really see to them now ?" she said. "Why, it is not half a noliday if business follows you here." Something in her voice made hixn look at her more attentively. He saw that she was in trouble, recollected that Carlo had scarcely spoken to her through dinner, and very naturally leaped to the conclusion that there had been a quarrel between the lovers. "1 have a king letter fro:n Kate, which perhaps you'll like to see," he said. "She and Clare seem getting on grandly at the North Cape. They know nothing of your betrothal. May 1 tell them the news when I answer this I" I think I will tell them myself," she said, her color deepening a little. "1 will put in a line to -morrow? if I may." The tears welled up into her eyes again; she turned hastily and drew his attention to the distant view of Vesuvius, with crim- e on flame leaping up, and summer lightning brightening the sky in the background.. But Mr. Britton was too fond of her to be put aside ; he began to feel really anxious about her future. • • "Dear little niece," he said, gently, non must forgive an old uncle's anxiety, but are you quite happy in your betrothal? Are you quite sure thee you have chosen the happiest life?" "Iameure that I havechosentheonly man in the world whom I could love," she said, recovering heraelf, and looking up into her ▪ note's face with such a sweet, bright, Love -lib smile that he could only inwardly protest that no man living was worthy of her. " Yet something is troubling you to - eight," he said, uneasily. " Yes " she said, her lips quivering ; g‘ there is something troubling Carlo ; he is going to teak it over with father, and—and I am not quite sure how father will take Mr. Britton looked grave. "Dear child, of one thing you may at least be sure," he said, gently; "your dither cares for nothing but your happiness." The words fitted in only too well with leer own forebodings. "Oh, why will people. think of nothing ' but that ?" she exclaimed. "What is hap- :, piness to me when Carlo is in the question? latiote"—'-she looked up esthim appealingly —" promise me that whatever -happens you ' will never think him to blame; there are things no outsider can understand. Promise 010 that you will always be his friend." "Well, he must be a cold-hearted person who could refuse such a petition from such lips," he said, stooping to kiss her. "Don't be unhappy, dear little Fran; there never yet was a betrothal which was all sunshine. Wait a little, and your clouds will disperse. Nine o'clock I I must be off to my desk." If sleep refused to visit either Carlo or Francesca that night, it was equally cruel to -Captain Britton. He tossed and turned lentil the bedclothes were in a state of elA aobjo confusion; he tried the window open he tried the window shut: he tried a light, he tried total darkness; he paced the room, he counted alternate black and white sheep going through a gate, he ate bread, he smoked a cigar—in fact, he tried all the remedies for sleeplessness he had ever heard of. ' At last he gave up all thoughts of rest for &it night, and began to wonder how his lieighbor was faring; the young Italian's taco haunted him. Then he began to think of poor little Francesca, doomed through his angry corn - mend never to see her lover again. No ; at least he would yield on that poke, he would go to see Carlo after breakfast, would apologise to him for his hastiness, and permit him to come once more to the Casa 13ella and take leave of Francesca. " this idea gave the poor captain a little a. relief, but he groaned aloud as he thought af all the grief in store for his child. ,. At length he heard the welcome sounds a - life in the house. The night was over; 'Rosetta was banging the Iror mat vigor- ously against the porch ; Dino was tramp - leg up and down the marble presager, fetching and carrying. Presently there was the refreshing sound of the rap at his door, and the eervant's familiar summons, "Hall -peat seven, signor, and a fine morn- 1 the captain roe more promptly than alma, unlocked his door, and took in hie hot-water can; on the lid there lay an en- velope directed to him in Carlo's hand- writing. Ho tore it open with a sense of sickening anxiety. What was it that brought a Midden mist before his eyes? Only a short, manly letter letter of apology from the man whom he bad wronged. Carlo had forestalled him, and the letter which had cost the writer so much cost the reader yet moreThere was eery little in it, with its careful English and neat foreign writing; but the words had come straight from the heart, and they went straight as • an arrow to the heart of the captain. The Brittons, though so long reedent itt Italy, kept English hours and breakfasted all together at a o'clock. Meanwhile, in the study, the owner of the Pilgrim was trying to do all in his power for his pretty niece. He had gamed, both from her face end his brother's depres- sion, that there must have been a quelled with young Donati on the previews night. He hoped he might be able to set things straight again before he left, but he had no idol* how serious Was the Otta/6 of affairs. "Look here, John," he geld, eloping the door of the etudy, it has just struelc me, why shouldn't you all have a trip in the yacht now she is here? There will be plenty of room for you and the girls, and young Donati, and * couple of other friends besides, if you like. Now do you think Of it, for it quite vexes me that the Pilgrim should be down here all to no purpose." "You are very good," said Captain Brit- ton, hesitatingly ; "for myself there is nothing I should so much like ; indeed, I must get away somewhere; I feel, quite knocked up with this tiresome affair.' " What affair V' "Why, I meant to have told you all about ib to -day. Poor little Francesca's engagement is broken off !" "Dear me! how is that? You don't mean to say he ia tired of her already ?" "No, that's the worst of it; the fellow is desperately in love with her still, but I have had to pat a stop to it. I never was so disappointed inc man in my life." a grave affair," said Mr. Britton, thoughtfully, " for I fancy little Fran's heart is quite given away." " That is the miserable part of it. I wish she had never seen Dotted 1 I wish I had never come to this place 1" and the poor captain sighed heavily. "But have you not, perhaps, been a trifle hasty ?" said his brother, remember- ing the promise he had made to Francesca on the previous night. "Though starting with pleuty of insular prejudice against the man, I was eery much struck with him yes- terday. There is something noble about his face. Surely he can't be guilty of any great offense ?" "He is guilty of the greatest offence pos- sible; he is guilty of an utter want of com- mon settee," said the captain, angrily. "1 thought we had made half au Englishman of him, but I might have known that with his Italian blood and his foolish radical ideas we should, sooner or later, fall foul of each other." "You are surely not going to break off the engagement because of political differ- ences a' said Mr. Britton, getting quite on to the wrong tack. "Mere opinions are nothing to me," said the captain, "but when the fellow acts— acts upon his insane ideas—comes to Inc and deliberately tells me that he has taken a course which will make his marriage with Francesca out of the question for an indefin- ite time, what can you expect me to say?" "1 don't wonder you were very much vexed about it" " Vexed ! I was never in such a heat in my life. Wrong as the fellow was, I am bound to apologize to him for what I said. not shirk that, though I do believe the mere sight a him will put me out of temper again." "You think there is no hope, then, of setting matters straight? Surely you would submit to almost anything rather than put Francesca to so much pain. What if her lover is a little high-flown in his notions? Anything is better than callousness and indifference." "1 can't explain it all to you, for did I do ao I should break Donati's confidence; but soon you will see for yourself what line he has taken up, and then you will see that my anger is at least excusable. To permit the engagement to go on is out of the ques- tion while he still keeps to his resolution ; Miss Claremont, I am sure, would agree with me. He is deliberately choosing a career which is bound to degrade him—he is taking the high -road to helL" The captain was working himself up into wrathful indignation again. Mr. Britton could only imagine that Donati had avowed his connection with some secret political society such as he believed to exist in Italy. He saw that it was useless to attempt any further remonstrance. "Then, if this is really quite at an end,', he said, unhesitatingly, "would it not be doubly desirable that you should all leave the neighborhood for a time? Take a month's cruise in the Pilgrim. There is no chance of my using her again till August." "I wish you could have been with us too," said the captain, with a sigh "Must you reallfgo off at once ?" "1 must be off this evening; there's no help for it," said Mr. 'Britton. "1 would give much to be with you, but this bust - neat will bear no 4elay. I feel like a school- boy cheated of his holiday. But look, let -us dedde this matter while Captain Gra- ham is here. When would you like to start ?" "To-morrow.No; to -morrow Count Carossa dines with as; but on Tlaursday— Ireally think we might start on Thurday. It's very good of you, George, to propose it. You've no idea what a relief it will be to log more shortly than the captain had eye before heard an Italian speak, " What 1" cried Merle Guido. "Then you, have thrown over your betrothal for this mad scheme! An apoplexy on you have no more to do with such it fool;' and with taet he ,strode out of the room., The captain only waited till he was sure the angry man had really gone, and then, he knocked st the door of the sa/otto. Nothing but it conscientious sense of duty could have indueed him to face at that moment his gueeb of the previous evening; but there was a certain rugged loyalty about Frances- OteS father, and he walked sturdily into the room, brao'ing himself up to make the neces- sary apology. Carlo was standing at the side of the window; the sunlight fell full upon him, and revealed to e the captain a very different face to the one which had haunted him through the night—a face worn with suffering but strong and resolute, spite of its haggartelook. "1 beg your pardon for intruding, but the servant told me to come in," began the captain, approaching him. ' • Carlo turned with an inarticulate excla- mation, the blood rushed to his face, and a look of iiistress dawned in his eyes; he was tired out with all he had been through, and felt wholly unequal to another stormy dis- cussion. But he welcomed his visitor with native ceremoniousness, betraying only by addi- tional courtesy any remembrance of the quarrel. The captain remembered the letter of the morning, and all his kindly feelings returned to him, as he said, heartily: !` Carlo, I have come to apologize for the words which escaped me yesterday. I regret them more than I can tell you. You had every excuse for your anger." Carlo grasped his hand. "No, no," he said quickly, "1 was very much to blame. I am glad, sir—it is a great relief to me,— that last night was not our parting. I am grateful to you for coming here to day." "1 must also apologize for having inad- vertently overheard some of your unclear words," said t,he captain, who felt very un- comfortable when he remembered his invo- luntary eavesdropping. "1 knew Uncle Guido would be very much against this plan," said Carlo; and as he spoke he threw himself wearily into a chair facing Captain Britton's. The captam was struck by the look of ex- treme physical exhaustion both in the face and the attitude; he began to realize the difference between his own phyaique and that of the Italian and faintly to under- stand that Carlo had it greater capacity for feeling pain than he heel himself. "Did you realize that this schezne of youra—this scheme which I still most strongly disapprove—would cost you so dear 1" he asked abruptly. "Did you think your uncle would have disinherited you ?" "1 didn't think about the money at all," said Carlo, "bub I knew he would be annoyed." "But does this make no change in your feeling? Are you willing to lose every single thing you possess and even to forfeit the respect of your friends, tor the sake of this plan ?" " Yes," he said, simply ; " I am willing, When he had spoken he let his head drop wearily on to his hand; he was calm with the calm of blank bereavement; for, like the princess in the poem, he had found that "Nott to fear because all is taken Is the loneliestdepth of humanpain. The captain sighed. He was not angry now, only very much annoyed at the, im- possibility of inducing one bereft of cone - mon sense to see reason. "You make light of the loss of income," he said at length; but how wilt you -fare supposing you fall ill V' Carlo looked up with anodd sere of skate. "Well, yore -will think me unpractical," ' he said; "but I have never been ill in my life, and I had not considered that possi- bility. However, my salary is a tolerably fair one for a novice, and if the worst cornea to the worst, there are always the hos- " Carlo," brokedu the captain, 't I can't I pitals." bear to think of one who has led the life you have led. going out into such a world 1 What would your poor mother have said to t ?" Carlots face lighted nak at if the suggestion had given him some unexpected comfort. "Ab least our dead understand us," he said, fervently; "they know that I am rying to keep my promise." The captain felt that his small stock of I_ atience would not terse much longer, and arloe glancing at him, saw that their part- g ng, though peaceable, would be final; he al new intuitively that although the captain a ad taken back some of his he,rsh words, he " still regarded him as at any rate a self- r eceived deceiver—a man who, under the leak of duty, veiled his craving for change nd excitement—or, at beat, as an enthusi- r et who could but be despised for giving up olid realities for foolash dreams. Their I r"Dying Gladiator " for Clare reposed peri 1 ously on a sheky pile of books; a kitte was worrying a ball of red wool on the sofa and a Book tn moms of knitting, which h 1 , knew had been intended for him, lay at ando Jdafriendtthe Vgrismu pv si Ue as withotblue 1 ui tes istallvdirjoifuSetilhOekr 1 ' little distance on the floor, He turne to the window and looked out at 11 and there between the trees. Then with& aching consciousness that these wens left t him, but that he should ewer more stand i that little room, he turned and looked roun as though he wiahed to stamp forever o his mind all its girlish decorations all its familiar details. Bub tir sound of footsteps without rouse him and dispelled his calm • the doo operted,and Francesca came quiolly forever to greet him, she always entered a roo more quickly, yet more gracefully the, other people, but now she almost ran tower him ; she wanted him not to notice he wan tear -stained face. "'If, however, in one manse love is blind in another it is all -observant ; in one glom he had read all, and in that glance their canae to him the sharpeat of his suffering. Stilling the sobs that rose in his throat,h held her in a long, close embrace, but to speak was impossible ; and though ther Was comfort and rapture in her presence yet there WEB also anguishwhich threatened to unman him. At length he put he gently from him, and turned away that h might fight down his emotion. For a few minutes there was silence, then he camennd sat beside her oh the sofa, and, putting hi arm round her, drew her head down on to his shoulder. ' "Carina," he said, and the mellow hary tone voice was firm, yet terribly sad, "your father would not let me see you last night, but to -day he allows me this one more meet- ing with you. He said he had not spoken to you, but that you knew what had passed between us" "Yes," she said, her tears raining down quietly; "1 knew it must be so when I heard you go." ' They talked sometimes in English, some- times in Italian, as had been their custom ever since childhood. "Darting," he said, tenderly, "1 am bound to obey your father's decree ; there could be no right betrothal for Ila without his consent, and so you stand free once more. You must try, carina, not to let these three Short weeks spoil your life ; you will try, my own, my darling, for it would break my heart if I thought I had ruined your happiness. "Love ought not to weaken us," she said tremulously, for in her heart she felt that apart from Carlo she should be like a rudderless boat. "These three weeks ought to give me coinage for the rest." There was indescribable sadness in the last two words. "Alt, darling !" cried Carlo passionately, "don't speak of your beautiful young life like that 1" And then he was silent again. All the strength and ardor of their mutual love seemed to rise up . against the captain's decree; if for the present they were fain to obey it and to parayet hopes for the future would rise; perlutps each intuitively knew what was in the other's heart, but no words passed between them; indeed, when Carlo did speak it was almost as if he wished to reason away any brightness which might hover over their future. "You see, my darling," he said, "even should this immediate danger no longer keep me from you even if Nita no longer needed me, I shall Iiiiive cut myself off from you hopelessly; we must face that. I shall by that time, if I succeed at all, be to the world Donati the singer, and your father would certainly not choose me for his son- in-law. Then, again, Uncle Guido has dis- inherited me, so that if I gave up the stage I should be penniless and more or less un- fitted fpr work as an advocate." Hasehe indeed diamherzted you? Oh, Carlino, what troubles you have had Don't let me be another, darling. Sole I'll not cry any more; we must think of what is still eft us. The worst they can do to us is to keep us apart; they can't kill our love, they can't check our prayers for each other; the best part, the highest part, no one can med- dle with." He held her closely, murmuring tender Italiau words of endearments; and the clock on the mantel -piece ticked on inexorably, measuring all too quickly the time which, when they were parted, would move with eaden feet. Rosalind should surelyhave aid "parting lovers" rather than a , thief oing to the gallows" when asked, "Who °Mops Time withal?" And atill they ingered over the sweet, unwritable talk ill the clock relentlessly struck 12'; and eased them to the recollection of the onter world. Then Francesca drew off her engagement ing, and placed it in his hand. "There, Carlo," she said, steadily, "1 tee you back the ring and your troth, and • will obey my father, and will neither hear roin you nor write to you; but more than hat, no woman can promise, for love is not made and unmade to order." a, a me, for we are such near neighbors to friendship WAS tit an end ; for though love Donati that it would be very unpleasantis undying, friendship is quite a different be here." t° I thing, en there are shooks which it will survi "Well, that's settled, theta " said Mr. not ve • " There is one other thing I wish to say," Britton. "1'll go and tell Graham to make, preparation for you. He will be enchanted to have you on board." CHAPTER XIIL 1 Carlo aaught eagerlyat this boon, and the Captain Britton had seldom felt more ill captain suggested that he should return at MEM than when he walked that morning with him to Casa Belle.. up to the door of the Villa Bruno. A "Does she know of " he hesitated how to put it, "of your decision ?" "1 have not spoken to her about it, but I kilbw she infers it," said the captain, rather coldly. Carlo paced the rpm for a minute, strug- gling with hie emotion; he was not sure whether he had strength to met Franoesca and tell her with his own lips that all was over between them. "If you wish to see her we had better come et once," said the captain. "My brother is unexpectedly called. back to Eng- land, and we have much to see to to -day." He was vexed that Donati did not show said Captain Britton, rising, "and that is, that if you wish you may have one more interview with Francesca." . sallow, wrinkled old servant, with st gay scarlet neckerchief, was polishing the door - handle ; she nodded to him cheerfully as he approached. "Good -morning to you, signor ; walk in You'll find the master in the ealotto." She made no sign of leaving her door - handle and duster, and indeed the captain had long ago asked lea,Ve to walk into his neighbor's house without ceremony, and the Signora Donati and Carlo, though dis- liking his unheralded intrusion had been far too courteous to return a negative to the tactless request. He crossed the vestibule, and was about to enter the 8dotto, when a more gratitude for the concession he had sound of voices within made him pulite, made, for he was a man who liked to be hesitate a moment, and then go instead thanked, and it had not been easy for him into an adjoining room. to retract what he had first said. Some - He had recognized the voice of Guido thing in his t6ne stung Carlo,; he drew Donati, and guessed correctly that the uncle himself together. " Mote, signor," he had driven over in hot haste from Naples said, gravely, forgetting his English, as he on learning his nephew's startling plan. often did when much moved, and recover - That he wee exceedingly annoyed could be ing it with an effort. "If you will permit gathered from the vehement and Marti- it, I will accompany you." ordinarilyrapid utterance which reminded • They walked. away from tae Villa Brew the captain of Carlo's tirade on the pre- in silence, Carlo thinking of the captain's 1 ceding night. At last the violent harangue words, "We have much to see to to -day." came to an end, and •Clarlo'ss voice was How calmly he classed the supreme struggle heard. It was low but distinct, and the of his life'the parting that was death to captain could not avoid hearing the worda : him, withthe trivial household commotion "1 ant sorry to vex you; uncle, but my caused by Mr. Brittonat tourney. mind is made .up." But once back in his own house the cap - "Madonna Santissim a 1 it is made up, tain's kinder feelings returned; he took is it," said the other, furiously. "Then Carlo to the Rose -room, then held out his mine, too, is made up; and I ant sorry to hand cordially. vex you but not a penity of mine Shall you "This had better be our final parting," ever inherit. Do you understancl?" he said, "1 leave home on Thursday. There was a silence, but Captain Britton , Good-bye, Carlo. Should you even now see could well ithagine the expressive gesture " fit to give up this foolish scheme I should which Carlo would Trask°. be quite willing to reconsider matters." a Diavolo 1" cried the uncle. "You "My mindis made up, sir," said Carlo, take it calmly. You think you will live turning redly away. comfortably enough Oh that voice of yours, "So it appears. Well, I will eend Fran - and laugh at the rich old uncle. You will cesca to you." tell a diffeyent tale e few years hence, my Hei dolled the door; and Carlo, with a fine fellow, when you have it wife and 'Chit- choking feeling in his throat, looked round dren to support." the clear, familiar room, the eery utitichness "1 shall never marry," said Carlo, speak- of which breathed of Francesco. The Carlo put on the ring, which from a token of union had now become changed to atoken of separation. He was too heart -broken to speak, and after it long pause it wee Fran- cesca who at length broke the silence. " Tell me a little more of the sort of life you shall live," she said, ender. So he told her all that he knew, which was little enough; how he should live with the Merlinos, try to win his sister's love, etudy hard for his profeesion, do his best to be a credit to Piale. "And you ?" he tusked. "There will be new neighbors for you at Villa Bruno, but it is hardly likely that it will be used by another occupant except during the sum- mer months.' "Ah 1 Will it be let t " asked Francesca, her eyes filling. "Well, I hope we shall not know the people who take it. For the rest, darling, you can picture me as living the old life, going into Naples on Sunday, teaching Sibyl, rowing with Florestano. But for this next month We are to go for e. cruise in the Pilgrim, and perhaps nextyear 'may go to England." " You would like to be with Clare 9" " Yes'though I suppose father will not like frte to tell her now of these three weeks, and it will be hard that she should never know. Carlo, why should not you go to see Clare when you are in England ?" He shook his heat "She would disapprove too strongly of my change of professions," he said; and it is not it change that I can explain to all the world. Then, too, she lives in your un- cle's house, asid after what has happened he would hardly care to have me there,' "Uncle George likes you very much," said Francesca, quickly. Carlo did not reply, but he thought differently. It was not then, however, that he could care to discuss so trifling a matter; time was passing, and he knew that Capt. Britton must already be expecting him to go. The thought broke down all his self- control; his calmhess gave place to a passionate outburst of love and grief, which recalled to Francesca his sudden change in the belvedere when he had fleet asked for her love. She clung to him now ES she had done then, but it was not of love and present blies which she spoke. "Patience, Carlo rear; patience, she Whispered It as, after all, that which we need." The word brought back to hint the noel leatton of his dying father, and calmed the tumult of feeling. He held her tweet face between his hands, looked long into those pure eye, and grew strong once more. " Paziema 1" he murmured, clasping her again in his arms. "God have you in His keeping." i• * * * At the gate of Casa Bella, Mr. George Britton, much to his dismay, chanced to en- coueter the owoer of Villa Bruno, quite the last man he would have chosen to meet. All that he mild do was 10 ossume that nothing had happened, and to bid him it courteous farewell. He held out hie band. Carlo turned upon him a face whirl haunted the kindly Englishman for many months to come. But, even in his anguish, he could not be otherwise than courteous; a look of effort passed over his deathly fea- tures, and— "With pale lips That seemed to motion for a smile in vain," he aaid, as he bowed over the Englishman's hand, "Buon viaggio, signor/ 4 rivederci 1" CHAPTER XIV. THE NEW BARITONE. "Small spheres hold small fires, But he loved largely, as it man can love Who, baled in his love, dares live his life, Accept the ends which God loves for his own, And lift a constant aspect" —E. B. Bumming. It was it hot summer morning, and two ragged little Neapolitans were sauntering along the Ohba& ; the elder had flung his arm caressingly round the other's neck ; the younger held in his hand a ragged cap full of cherries, from which they were eating contentedly as they walked. A carriage rolled past theta, and both boys looked up with sharp, eager eyes. " Gran Dio 1" cried one. "Look 1 yonder goes Comerio, the singer." " 'Tis he himself," said the other, with a look of interest; "and in a vile temper, too; his brow is black as is starless night!' " They say he beats his wife," said the older bog with a laugh, which was only cheoked by the offer of a ripe red cherry which his brother held up to his mouth. Meanwhile the carriage had gone by, and Comerio was before long, set &awn at the entrance to Palazzo Forti. He paid the driver, and then with no very amiable ex- pression, made ills way, up the long stone staircase and rang the belL A maid servant., whom he had tried un- successfully to bribe on former occasions, opened the door to him. • "Is Signor Merlin') at the theatre ?" he asked, anxious to know whether the rarest was clear. "Yes, signor," replied the girl. "What message eau I give him ?" "1 will give it to Signora Merano," said the visitor, preparing to enter. • The meal showed all her teeth in &merry smile. "But the signora is still at rehearsal." " Orsu !" exclaimed Comerio, impa- tiently, "1 might have known. Well, I will come in then, and wait till they return" (To no Cootonnee.1 • Conspetitton. In order to ascertain the views of chem- ists throughout Great Britain as to which of the remedies for outward application had the largest sale and greatest popularity, " The Chemist and Druggist" instituted O pose card competition,. each dealer to name on a post card the preparation which had the largest edema was the mostpopular with customers, and the publisher re- ceived 635 of these cards, with the follow. ing resales : . St. jacabs Oil...... ....... . .. 384 ,Ellimatas Embrocation 172 Holloway'e Ointment 32 Allcock's Plasters 19 Bow's Liniment 7 Painkiller 7 Vaseline .. 4 °admire 2 Scattering ..... 8 Total 635 Wooden Legs in Great Britain. London Tit -bits says: "It has been esti- mated by a dealer in artificial limbs that 300,000 persons in Great Britain, having lost one or both legs, wear wooden subitti- tubes. At one time cork was largely used for this purpose, but at the preterit day no good maker uses cork at all. Willow -wood is the basis of all well -made artificial limbs, and as its strength and toughness enable the legs to be made hollow, they' are in reality - a good deal lighter than the old cork ones. The chief diffi- culty that manufacturers experience is to obtain sufficient supplies of really good vrillove wood. One of the leading makers, draws almost the whole of his supply from the trees that grow near the River Kennet, which runs between Reading and Devizes. English artificial limbs are absolutely the best in the world, and the main reason for this lies in the superiorityof English willow wood over any other." Paving the Way. "Wilt you please let me take the other end of the lounge, Clara ? " "Certainly, but why do you wish to do "1 will then be on your right." "What of that 9" "Because I am going to propose to you and I have ' been told that a man should get on the right side of a girl before he pro- poses to her." What the Laird Pitt Pp. Dundee People's Journal: During the recent sittings of the Crofters' Commission on the Clyth estate one of the crofters on being examined before the commissioners, said he had put up a new dwelling house, a new barn a new byre and stable. "And while you were putting up all these did not the laird put up anything ?" asked one of he commissioners. Oh, ay, sir," said the crofter, "he put up the rent." New York Herald: In Poker Parlance— Father (e.t foot of stairs)—Bill, didn't you hear me call you two hours ago? Bill— Yes, but I can't see yogi father. "Well, then, I'll come up and raise you." Chicago has had a fire in one of ha sky- scrapers, but as yet none of the astron- omers has discovered any serious; damages. The planets esoeped with a bingeing. Bellows (Ohicago)—Why are you so anx- ious for me to go away for awhile, my dear? Mre. Bellow e (often married)—The doctor 138.378 you'd come back another man entirely, He—Time seems short when I am with you. She (who had hinted at oysters, which she did not get)—Then you must have a &new feeling for it. Matiy men imagine that the world couldn't get along :without them, but when they die the town in which they lived ea- periences it boom, The Fisk Jubilee Singers have been stuck in e. allow drift with a C. P. R. train in ' Southern Manitoba for 36 hours. . The Romans say that When Cardinals die it is always by threes, which superstition the deaths of Cardinals afanning, Simeora and Agostini, within it few home al each other, IMMO f0 strengthen, aetet atea irsis BIJSY SAUSIRIfilr BOW the Yrante alinteatv beet We Work. Lord Salisbury is probably the hardeeb worked man in British political life, pate seating therein a remarkable contrast to most of his &tweeters at the foreign 'Are many of whom were renowned for their irro dolence and procrastination, The late Lord Granville in particular remains on record an having been tile laziest Secretary of State of the Victorian ere. Most of Lout Salisbury's work is done at home, either at his superb country 'Mat Of Hatfield or a,t his house in Arlington street" 'which looks out upon Green Park. The foreign office he rarely visits except for two • purposes of receiving foreign daplometa on official business. An early riser, his breakfast is generally over by 9, and from that hour until luncheon he is close at work on foreign office beat nese. After luncheon the premier either goer for a walk or a drive if the weather is tine, while if it is rainy he retires for about Oa hour to his citernical laboratory, chemistry and electricity being his two favorite l*ob. bies. Thereupon he returns to his library and remains hard at work till dinner. Even when he has guests or when the Marchioness is giving an entertainment he invariably withdraws to his library and con - times working there till long past mid- night. Frequently as many as 50 separate despatch boxes filled with urgent official 'documents and detnandhig innnediate itt- tention arrive in rapid succession during the course of a single morning. Unlike other official Mel; Lord Salisbury does not avail himself very largely of hie private secretaries to relieve him of the drudgery of his work. a, In thie respect he differs from Mr. Glad- stoue, who has invariably etirrounded him- )1. self with capable assistants, and has thus been able to throw upon their shoulders I good deal of the less important but labori- ous work whicli a Prime Minister has to undergo. • Lord Salisbury's private secretaries, no ' matter how brilhant and clever, are eeduced lo the position of mere clerks, who are not permitted to relieve their chief in the slightest, but merely expected to carry out the directions given by " Haughty Cecil" with great care and minutences. —N. Y. Recorder. Prof. Blackleg Confession or Faith. Prof. Blackie writes to the Edinburgh Scotsman: I perceive that the spokesmem of the churches have been stirred to a churchly strife by the Duke of Argyle% most wise and instructive address the other night in defence of the COMMOO Proteirtant Presbyterian form of church government, to which Episcopacy, since the days -of Luther, forms a. notable and fashionable exception. I was bred a. theologian before I became a professor, and so the public may excuse me for giving fourteen lines al my Confession of Faith on the matter: HIM CHURCH OR WW1 Creeds and confessions 2 High Church or Low! I cannot say ; but you would vastly please us If with some pointedScripture you could show To which of these belonged t,ho Savioor Jesus. I think to all or none • not curious creeds Or ordered forms ofehurchly rule he taught, But soul of love that -blossomed into deeds With human good and human blessing fraught. On me no Priest, nor Presbyter, nor Pope. Bishop or Dean'may stamp a party name; ButJesus,with His largely -human scope, The service of myliuman life may claim. Let prideful priests do battle about creeds, The Church is mine that does most Christolike deeds. . Another Firea.k. Judge : Visitor—What's this inan here for? Museum Man ---He was seen at a matinee with hie wife. • Sunlight Removes !karate& To take out seorch lay the article thathae been scorched in the bright sunshine. TRIM TO MAY ENOW. When down your back you feel cold dank That seem to call for quinine pills ; Whenlieadache rages at your brain .And in your shoulder there's a pain, A rabid rattling at your ears And both your eyes filled up with tears; When life seem hollow,fiat and stale, And you feel cross and sick and pale; When you don't really seem to care Whether the weather's foul or fair— When you this cup of anguish sip, Then you may know you have the SHP': THE death of Walter /3. Bark, ctlf Yonkers, in a fit of insanity, followed by' the death of Jimmy Fair, son of the Cali- fornia millionaire, after undergoing the gold treatment for drunkenness, has ot-• tre.cted considerable attention, and it is un- derstood that the State Boards of Realtes, will be asked to make an invattigetion into Keeley's mode of treatment. An Ohio newspaper reporter has stexted to walk around the world, prearably because he didn't like to step over it. The Rat Portage Fire Brigade has re- signed in a body because it has not been ap- preciated by the citizens. If there was some way of wrapping up a baby so that it would look like a game bog Ole gun, the women would have no further lit trouble in getting their husbands to carry babies on the streets. —Atchison Globe. Haughty lady (who has purchased a. stamp)—Must I put it on myself? Stamp clerk—Not necessarily. It will probably accomplish more if you put it on the letter. AP' ugust lower" This is the query per - What is petually on your little • boy's lips. And be is It For? no worse than the big- ger, older, balder -head- ed boys. Life is an interrogation point, "What is it for?" we con- tinually cry from the cradle to the ' grave. So with this little introduc- tory sermon we turn nnd ask: "What is AuouSt FI.OWBat icit ?" As easily answered as asked ..e.t.t is for Dys- pepsia. It is a special remedy for,. the Stonia.cl3. and Livr. _ . Nothing more than this; but this brimfuL We believe August Flower cures Dyspepsia. We know it will. We have reasons for knowing it. Twenty years ago it started in a s :all counbry. town. To -day it has u. honored place in every city and country stores possesses one of the la gest mans.- fa.cturing plants in the -ountry and sells eveTywhere. Why i this? The 'reason Is as simple • a child's thought. It is hone t, dots - one thing, and does it ri ht along—it cures Dyspepsia.. 6.0, G. G. Gil V,V,Iti, &le Man Wsodbary,Nit.