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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1898-3-3, Page 3or ea >f 1010 :ble kii all Ore. iple , or, re- er- co. 0. 08. re. ci,c1 re THB uo It is leased Aodyl-in theOesJ, and out ot humor, All day 1000, ever tan" las memorable encounter with her in the vegeteble garden, he had decided to keep an eye upon her, and an eye he had kept without blinking -that in, ao long. as the daylight lasted. But when five, o'clock come, and the short winter day was at an end, he had re- laxed is vigilance, anci decided to con- sidered himself off duty. . He had been wondering woula she come to tee with him as usual, in the old schoolroom. Perhaps she wocild; perhaps am she wouldn't.. As the hour struck be had gone there and neaitetl. He bed waited for quite half an hour without a misgiving. He waited an- other quanter of an hour with con- stderable mis'giviege. At ct quarter to eix he waited no longer, but went three steps at a 'time upstairs to old Bridget to ask her if she knew where Miss Dui- ciriea was. Mrs, Driscoll had no idea, She put down her knitting and wrinkled 'her brown so strongly that Andy, who had. not belie -eel the capable of another crease, was astounded. Wasn't she down b3 the schoolroom, then? No, she was- n't, She hadn't come in, then? •Conee in? • Andy's heart began to beat. a little quickly. What was it she had said? - that she wbuid let them see! Did she begin to let them see when she 'went out 1 But when was that? " Wben did ahe go out ?" asks he. "Faix, tuot so long, thin," said the nurse in a little frightened. fashion. 'Hrtve ye anything on yea mantis Mas- ter Andy If ye hove, spake mit! I mind pee now- she kissedme in a quare, mad, disturbing sort of a way, when she was lavine I mind, too, that I Willa her it was a bit late for a ram- ble, an' she laughed sthrienge like, an' said maybe she'd niver have a chance to a ramble agin, so she might as well have It now as not. Oh 1 wirra wir- ras theue 1 Wbat'll I do if harm has come to me beauty f" Andy had cat her short. It was evident her )311.13d ran on suicide; his mind xan on Eyre. He knew the latter was leaving this evening; and. the sus- picion that Dulcie in a mad, tonere' moment had agreed to go with him seizeti upon and held. him. He left the old woman rocking neiself Co and fro, and praying to every saint in thecal - end. It didn't take bine two minutes to fincl his hat, and. rush out into the night ah5 en route for the wayside station./ : • • • • • ' "Andy 1" cried Dulcinea, frantieal ly in a subaued yet piercing tone that reaches not only Andy's ears but those of Anketell in his distant corner. His are unnaturally strained. " Well, here I am!" says A.ntly, call- ing out, too, in a distinetly indignant tome. "He hears mel" said. Dulcinea, with a little sob of delight, turning ex- citedly to her companion. "He is com- ing! Oh, before he comes, go! go! Do you bear me? See, the train is on the point of leaving 1 If you. wait anoth- er moment you will be left behind, and 1— Oh, do go I" giving bim a frenzied push. "I will write; will explain - only go!" • " Write !-explain.!" Eyre feels aa if his senses are deserting him. The girl he has put himself in this false position to _save from abominable tyranny is the one who now deliberately -nay, passionately -repudiates his assistance. Eeelain 1" "attere is no explanation-al:sone!" stammers he, hardly knowing what he Righteous anger is burning in his breast. but I will write!" declares she, -growing desperate, as she sees And approaching. " There 1 Be quick!" Again she pushes him toward the now almost moving train, and Eyre, . confused, angry, puzzled obeys her touch, and springs into the carriage nearest to him. Anima unconsciously he had. sprung into it. The door is.banged. by apass- ing porter, and presently he finds that be is under weigh, and leaving Dun cinect forever! The train disappears into the night. Eyre; leaning leaok in his corner -the corner usually coveted, but undisput- ed in this empty train -gives himself titt thought. It is a revelation to him ta find presently that he is feeling far more angry tban miserable. Pathos upon pathos! - Up to this, indeed, he had regarded himself as a preux chevalier -a Dan Quixote. He ban exulted in his role of Knight of Woeful Damosels, and bere-bere te his reward! Lo! when it came to the point, the captive maiden bad declined to be rescued, and clung heroically, if umpoeticelly, to the ty- ranny she migbe have escaped. Theret must, be something wrong a somewhere! tyre, enveloping himself e bane it out, here, where can see you as en the dusty road." 'Pm tired', Andy," eeys she, toilet - la, with a vagne but frulthms hope of sefteniing him. 4' t "Not too tined, to come here en the nairldle of the eight, anyWaln," "an the middle of the niight 1 Oh, Andy! Why, it Ran't be more than half -past seal" "Bola wall you know the hours of the train) laao"-imalagnentay- "taught you? My woral ail I an say ia ,tbat you ha.ve dune it this thee, at all events." "Done what?" mare faintly stile. "Do you, want nee to put it lute Wards?" says her cousin, regarding her in the dam dull light of the station lumps 'with a, dingiest hardly to be put into words. "You ere a fool„ Duletneal" "You ellon't know anything!" says Dulcinteat taking' all the courage she has into her hand and preparing to do battle with it.. "You (mouse me; you say things-but"---incoleerently-"you know nothing! Nothing 1 cainue out only -only to -ton -desperately -'see 11 I could. =atoll. some wool en the village clown there, and evatelered on here, and-" "1,Vhat banger 1" says her cousin, "Is that the best youcan do? To ma.teh wool ny this light! ;Why seat sae, Yon come to meet a young' lady.? There would. be a pretty color about that at all events." „. "It was wool!" persisted. Duldnea, dismally. "With a pretty color about it, too la tvith growing scorn. "Oh, n91 it won't do, my good Delche. D'ye think 1 can't see how the lona lies? Wail till you see Bridget! She's got a ettord or 'LAW PO say to you, ltelleve me! She's got a, hot and strong for you', end no rain - take." ; "Bridget will say nothing to me," says Dulelinea. "She at least"-unsteact- ily-"bas always been kind to me." "Your quarter's up there," sa,ys Andy. "Expect no gance. She's only waiting to see you, to geve you the biggest bit of hex mend on record." "Take me to her," says Dulainea, in O low tone, suggestive of intense fati- gue, and mental. "What makes you. so tixed.1" asks her cousin, trying to see her face. "Yout seem done up. lethet 1" as the thought dawns won hirm,, "do you inean to say that you. walked here? Marebed every step of the way tiough tile cold. area damp to meet that{dicey!" Dulcie nods her head; words now are almoet beyond• her. • "By George I you. must be fond of hem 1" "I am not!" says Dinleineat with a fined, a very faint return oe her old. spirit. "You expect me to believe that, and yet you certainly eaane all this svay for the. mere sake of giving him a part- ing Word, of seeing ham safely oaa3" "Yes -yes," seys his cousin, evith suoh over -eager confession t,hae she opens his eyes to the fulli truth. "To go off wit,h i" says he, slow- ly. "Is that. it, really? Oh, Dulcie!" There is such reproaeh, suca surpris- ed reproach in his young voice, that Tennessee. gives way beeeath it. "Ohl is all true, Andy -all every word you bare said. Fat.her, Sir Ralph, even you. were unkind to me. And he -thoug,n I didn't care for hint -he wee kind; and le asked. Joe to come away !rare all this trouble-" mean to say you spoke to him - you. coonplaimed to hirer of Sir Ralph -of your father 1" 'I did. I know now it was batefal of me; but he was very kind, and I was withappy. And Six Ralph wee so coal, and so leeturing Eke -and -4 She, breaks off. "Well 1 I wouldn't have believed et of you," says Andy, shaking his head gloonaily. "And Alike:telt such a good. sort! atowever"--publing himself toge- ther --"the one thing now to he con- side,red is how you are to .get home. Jt well take, a, long taste to get a can up here from that beastly hole below, and by the time we reaeh the house the gonernor will be in such a fume tha,t there will be no holding him." "Can't we walk ?" eagerly. 'That would occupy even longer, I suppose. I know what gerls are--stuen- Wing over every atone and shrieking at every armorer. No; that would take hours and sat the govanor's-back up an. ianch or two higher. He'd be 'all aline 0,' with a vengeance, like the cockles, if we aidn't get bo.me before • "What shall we do then ?" says taut- cie, gle,nceng iniseralky round. her. "I wish I Icnew. 'Better stay here un- til I run down to the village seted bring back a car of some sort, 'P.on iny soul" -niomilly-"you•haere done it for once, and handsomely, when you were about it I" , At ChM snoment et so happens that Dulcinea, in her remorse end. grief and despaix, chang,es her position. She had. thought of escaping her cousin's eye - which is sharp, to soy the least of it; but, not understanding the eccentrici- 'ties of the station leave, so turns that he pan see leer even more cliettnetly. Perhaps it was a wise move, if un- studied. Th.e dull, dean lamp over there shows Mr. McDermat Such a• Pale, tear- steined and. unsalable little face, that all his wrath dues before O. , "After all," begins he, hurriedly, and en a consieterolely milder eoice, "there's one thing in your favor -t don't. for- get that. !When it came to the scratch you dian't go wiith ban, You vaned in at dm rglat hour , n wonder, too. 'bee 1 a 1 rga, b miness wail:Inn' he in his rug, neicea a mentel vowto abjure distressed.dacemels. let alt time, end" devote hireself for -the future to the worldly', reasonable . beings, who hitherto breve been the solace of his • existenoe, °HATTER, X, "Those who infant. must (a*uffer, tor they Gee The 'work of their own hearts, and tbat must be Ottr chastieement or recompense." Dincinita, left alone upon the plat- form, turned with a geack breathof mingled fear end relief to Andy, who had ontly just joined ter. "Nice bit of business this I" says that your* Sea,te '0,h, don't talk here, Andy, come out- se:le-come beyond the gate; I-- "I.donai est what going beyond. tbe gate wars ao 1" sans Mr. McDeraeon looking' like adamant. "May rte wen CHAPTER+ . "To anoW, to esteem, to love -and awn to parte Makes up life's tele to mane teelLne heaet." "Wbat ?" says Madam. elm enamels still as if turned into Coate Here tears cease. She festal frozen. 1e -le, of all men, here! Herd seen-gueesecle- aBa' Itolleh) be all *mast fortunato" "Where?" "Tut over there; evidently eomet this moment, as if in answer to my brayer." In facie Ste Relph, Who bee. been go- ing away from. the platform., having seen all Ire never wiahed to see, lied turned at the last second to speak to o porter, and 'had, therefore, when Andy's eyes fell on hien, all the appear - once of one coining toward, instead of going away from, him. "Was there ever each luck? Of course ben got a trap of some. sort, He'll drive you. home. I say, Anketell-" "Oh, Andy !"-grasping his arm.-a`Oh, A ady ! Don't I don't 1" "Don't what ?"-a,ngritly. "Don't make me go home with him 1" in, an agonized whisper. "But, wher-wh,y impatiently. aOlo not with hint! Supposing he was here :In the time and. saw—" "Nonsense! He bas evtdently only, just come to—" "I won't go home with nim," Says Duleinea„ in a, choking tone; "I won't!" "Don't be a, fool 1" so,ys her cousin, angrily, "You shell go with him,1 will kill all talk. You must be mad to refuse such a doom of doing away with your folly." els takes a step forward. ' 'Andy !"-frantically. Bat he has escaped. from her now, and. bee readied Anketell. There is a word or two, and then both men re- turn to where she is standing, feeling more dead than aline. "Here is Six Halpin Duleie," sans Army in a. rathrer nervous faahlo-n. "By the way, you. axe driering, Anketell- eh? Could you give My cousin a lilt?" "With pleasure," gravely. "You. pass our gates, you see, and- er-we-we'd no idea, when we start- ed for our walk, that-er-we shoald be sty late, Fauna ourselves, You know" -the falseh•eoci sticking horribly in las throat -Pat the station before we knew wlvere we were." "I understand," quickly. It cats Anketeil to the heart to hear the lad lying thus, and such fruitless lies -and deltvered so -haltingly, so lov- ingly 1 "Eyre left to -night by the train," says Andy, evith a highly -nervous, mis- erable lough. "She -we-" "I see." says Anketell, hurriedly. "You. came to see him off I Very na- tural." "It's a long walk home, for Dulcie," sans leer cousin, more haltingly. than ever. "But. 11---" "Of course I canegine your eousin seat," says Anketell, He addresses hatuself entirely to Mc - Dermot, altogether ignoring Dulcineat This, and soanething In his tone, strikes to Andy's heart; bat he compels hemself to go through with the sorry farce. As for Detainee; a kind of cold recklessness has come to her that does auty for courage:- Tier hoe teens lie Frozen in her eyes. (tier glance la ed' inanovably.an th.e ground beneath her; yet. iin spite of that, she knows that Anketell has never once deigned to glanee ber direetion. "Thank you," nine Andy, diiffinently, "and?' -pausing -"if when you come to our back gate -if you were to.. drop her there, it would be better. 'Will you? You see, if the governor knew taat- er-I-had. 'skept -her out so late ha - he dean' on me, It's my fault, d'em eee-every bet of "I quite see," says Anketell, grave- ly, laconically, as before. "ley the way, I can gave you a. seat. too." "No thank.s I'd rether not-reelly 1 shall enjoy the walk." The poor boy ie clioleing with aurae, and feels that to eccept, even, so trifling a (Devoe- as a. seat home from the man he is trying so deliberatela_ to deceive would be more than he is equal to. "It's a lovely ev- ening, and nothing of a walk." He waves an adieu. and turns aside, but seeing hien go, Dulcinea wakes from her stupor. "Andy!" cries she, weldly, it fever of entreaty her whole ger; "Andy, come with me. -Come 1" But he is cleat to her entreaties. He shakes his heed and hurries out into the darlenass of the ne ht. be ond "t bet 1'11 be home before yam!" the cells oat from somewhere -they can no longer see hem. ".Lt's it mile to walk, but three to drive; that gives me a good chansee " It is three indeed1-three of the long- est miles Duldnea has ever driven. There 3,re monten•ts when she tells her- self that, it cannot. teke all these hours to came this short way, and wonders Anketell has not ma,de a mistake and turned into some otib,er unknown road. It is so dark by this that totsee• where she is is impossible, vend yet a is a floe night, too -no ign of rain or storm. Certainly the moon is 11 ying bidden, and the stars are rinparently forgetful of their duty, Jut the wind that fleee past Dulcinean heck is singularly mild and kindly for • he time of year. Everything seems h.ushed; no sound arises lo break the Lnantetony of tbe silence that has fall - n on. her and. her companiion, Now lid nein a rustlatia in the wayside brandies, a ft:uttering of wings, a leepy "Cheep -cheep," betray the pre - ewes of those "einalefoule," 'That semen alle night with open eye." ccording to Geoffrey Chaucer, but all - r 11lOiS88 are there none. Shame, fear, fatigue, all are 'keeping Went dumb. Oh, to be home in her Wilcliamber, safe from prying eyes, sent in any place where she may weep 1 a ) rre o 11 good enough for you. T say, Dulcie, old girl, don't -don't cry, whatever you do 1 Keep up your pecker; leave at all to me, a,ncl 1.'11 pull you through; VD annum ie with the governor if Ise finds yo1i out, and P.m ofraid he's Miami to do then as you are very eonsiderably out, not only of your hoase, but your reekonang. la 1 IA.l that's a joke! D'ye 888 itt 'In this melancholy wear he seeks to chaer her; but Duleinee 8 beyond see - ling anything, She is like Niolie-"all tears," 'You'll be in aysterite in 0 second', it you don't keep es tight lean" says bet coueirn in a horror-stricken way. "Look here 1" n1 coming approbenetvely arou ad, him, "you'll be -heard. 11 you go oti like that. I wish to goodness there was some wan of getting you, home in ei hurry; We could then put it on the Mae or the woolororit safely; hun--- Jay ;rove 1" starting; "theraa Sir Ralph 1" out her very soul in comfort! Olt this horrible, liox'rible drivel -will it never come to an era? .And be--wify is he so akar; ? Can he know? She shrinks within heraelf is this th to theme but quiekly flings it all with one as grille, No, a theasand times not 11 he knew. lin would not be hero with her now. He would not vondesciend to sit besede her, he woued east her off. hi a over he does hear of it-'what, thane 'Nut be knows nothing, why does ie not say something t� ber / Again the fixst, tortdring donnt sets in. As for Anketell-be hes even forgot' tem be is Went, so busy are this tboughte- With ell the past miserable hour, Again ihe seems to be standing in the dusky corner of the eta tton; again he sees her come slowly forward, The quiek advanceof Eyre, her reception ef him so devoid of. surmase of any kind, her giving lop of tae small bag to eirri-how plainly al is all printed on his brain - in lype that will etand. dear to the ang occurs day of his death! No fear of its fad- ing. Aea then --the agonized watching for the train to come in. The horrible. fasoination that compelled him to wait and see her go-go with that abort -- that was the worst leart of itt lie had thought that at the last moment - the very Ja.st-as leer foot was on the (net) of the compartment, he would spring forWard and draw her back, and. implore her to return home, and. -merry his rival in a more ortho- dox forea, klut she had not given him that opportunity 1 He bad watched her im- passioned change of decision -her re- fusat to carry out her design -her ve- hement relief when she saw her cousin. But her abandonment of Eyre at the last moment did ber no geod with Mm -rather, it increased the pas:dm:C- ate, grievous: anger thet is tearing Isis heart in two False as she wee to her very core 1 And week as false 1 False to botb 1 A heavy sigb 'breathing from his companien's wnite lips at this moment wakes him from his stormy reverie. He tures to her. A star or two have pierced the heav- en's dusk by this time, and there, on the left, a pale, still crescent is steal- iag to its throne, Diane, a very .young Diana, is awake at last: "Wide the pale deluge floats." Slowly up from behind the hill be- yond she( conies, shedding glory on the earth with each slow, trailing step. "How like a queen comes forth the lorely moon, From tbe slow opening curtaina of the clouds, Walking in beauty to her midnight throne 1" . She gives Anketell the chance of seeing how his companion looks, Cold, shivering, chilled to her heart's oore. Her pretty face is not only sad, but blue; her ' little hands, lying gloveless tiellat had she done with her gloves ?)-on the rug, look shrunken to even smaller dimensions than usual, and are trembling. A sharp pang con- tracts Anketell's throat, "Yon are cold!" says he, in a tone so ley that no wonder she shivers afresh'. "No! no -1" says she, hastily, through caattering teeth. "Youwhat he 1" says he angrily,. "with only that little thin jacket on, you:. Hertel" pulling up with deeided violence a warm plaid from under the seat, "put tbis on you 1" "T would rather not," says she, making an effort to repulse him. "Put it on directly l" says he, so fiercely that she gives in without an- other word. In twining it round ber his hand comes in ooritactovith bers. "Your hands are like ice 1" says he, hie voice once again breathing fury-. "What do you mean by it ? Was there no rug, that you should thus be dying of cold?" "1 don't mind the cold. I don't think of it," says she, wearily. "Ilea think of it nowt Put your hands, under the rug instantly!" Hie manner is really almost unbear- able, but Miss McDermot has got to each a low ebb that she has not the courage to resent it. He puns up the rug. "Cover them at once!" says he, and she meekly obeys him. 'VI -at does it matter? -Lt. is all over between him anci her. It is quite plain to her that even if ignorant of this evening's work, he still detests her. His tone, manner, entire air, convinces ber of that. Well, she will give him ah opportunitv oe honorably getting rid of her. She will 'tell laim of her intention of running away with Eyre. That will do it 1 He is just the sort of a man to stick to his word through thiek and thin, however hateful the task may be. But when he hears that she deliberately meant to run away with some one else— Ohl was it de- liberate? She will tell him. 13ut not now. To -morrow -perhaps. No -sternly -to-morrow vertainly. He is conning to dine with them and after dinner,' in the drawing -room she can then give bins the opportunity of releasing him- self from this unfortunate engage- ment. Flow glad he will be I Anketell moves uneasily in bis seat. 'What is that little soft, sad, broken- hearted sound. that has fallen on his ears? Dulcinea is crying -so much is plain. Not noisily, not obtrusively - it is, indeed, a stifled, a deeperately stifled sob, that betray -s her. (Td be Continaetl) .TELLING BY THE COOOR. According to a tailor who bees had, nearly a life experience, it is possible with aittle study to tell within a lit- tle what part or England a man comes froni eirnply by the color of his cloth- ing. Intwn is in great demand among Lin.coln people. In the southern coun- ties, such as Cornwall end Somerset, the preference is for navy blue, In North Wales the• native choice is for light cloth of a yellow tint, but fur- ther south you meet with dark shades of brown. There is more black cloth sold in Laneashire than in any other county, exeepting Middlesex,and yet in the Adjoining eountries north the pub- lic, fancy run- to drab end tweeds. Men sail° wear clothes of a reddish - brown tin( axe invartithly Yeikshiee- men. iNOW IN PING:61R RINGS. What do you think the girls are wearing now? 'Heger rings made of. horeeshoe nal I SI :May are certainly not pretty or graceful, but they are said. to briog good luok la the treater on certain conditions. To Le a genuine 'elms= the ring must he ina, e from a nail taken lame a horseshoe found. by the owner herself and nobody else. This is token to a jeeeler, who bends tt, to fit her little finger and cuts of the (superfluous length. The ring is not welded together and the head ot the nail stands for this setting. , there's ,no %van of 'proving it, but tboee who have adopted then: ornaments say that.. they have Just as tutel luck as a horseshoe itself bung over the door with ends up. A QUIET GAME. Tommy -Can we play at. keeping store in here, mamma? afamme, who has a, hermache-Yes, but you must be very quiet. Tommy-A1I dein proteed we den't advertise. A STRETCH OP rpri9TRY. A Pair of Suepentiers-The nanittion and hie essident. PERILS OF FISHERMEN sounuEs BLOWN OUT TO SBA 0 AN ICE YLOE, naval tire arriewroundlaetra riaitaraten They nee Out a IfIeserabIe Oxitoosee lastsine An Simmer nod heailag In laenter-Thear wandaese for eltolasses- saateulties or retrise worn. The news from St. J'ohns, Newfound- land, that in a, recent blizzara a num- ter of Trinity Bay fishermen, and seal hunters had been blown to sea on an ice floe and have only just been res- ound, is but a repetttion of atelier ao- claellte which have baneened all the shores ot that rookie:Jena island, writes a corresponclent. As many me forty of these islanders have perished an ice floes in a single wintry off -shore gale. Perilous, indeed, is the life and hard the lot of New- founaland's bardy sons. While cruising along the coast of Newfoundland I CarCte on deek one morning, and looking seaward saw what can only be described as a perfect forest of icebergs. They were drifting slowly down from the north, tbose rays- terioue regions whence they are borne by the Arctic ourrenn which flows close by Newfoundland and largely accounts Lor the rigor ot the Newfoundland cli- mate. 10EI3ERGS BY THE HUNDRED. Stopping to count these icebergs I found there were no less than one hun- dred anti thirty-five huge ones in plain view and innumerable others so small that I took no account of them. Fart beyond the line of icebergs there was a curious white glare on the horizon. The skipper tol11 me it was a "loom of ice." When I asked him to explain his meaning be said it was an atmospherics effect produced by large masses of floe ice in the distance. Nor etas all the ice seaward. Icebergs had, drifted in between us and the shore and some large bnes were stranded, and the -waves beat against them with o surflike roar. In the distance was the sea circlet:I heap of rock, which is called 13elle Isle, -why, it would be im- possible to say, for a mere grewsome, weird, uncanny objeot is rarely dis- closed to view. Laing athwart the en- tranee of the Straits of Belle Isle, ice dashes against it, fog bangs around it, and sea gulls, crying shrilly, en - tenets it. Upon its craggy summit stands the last lighthouse, north, on the American continent. Beyon'1 it the navigator steers into the unknown for Greenlansl or the inhospitable shores of Labrador. To Bela to the desolation All this I saw on a summer's day there is, half way up the rock, a shel- ter for ice neatened or ship -wrecked sailors. ICEBOUND STRAITS. All this I sa won a summer's day, and you may- imagine how far nacre rigorous the scene is in Winter. From September until June the straits are ice locked, but the lighthouse keeper on Lltat lone outpost of civilization must stay where he is all winter long, comeletely isolated from the outer world, with storms howling about the lightliouse tower and snow and sleet beating against it. He cannot leave it, foe it is impossible to tell what moment the ice rna,y break up. He must be there to light the entrance to the straits the instant navigation becomes possible. The shores of Newfoundland are deep- ly indented. by bays, and in these bays, in. turn, are many little islands. The narrow passage between these goes by the curious name of "tickles," but af- ter you have sailed through them the \noel does not seem a misnomer. You have a feeling that at some remote epooli the sea must bave run out its foamy fingers and have tickled the rock ribbed coast until it split its sides with laughing. Some of the scenery around these " tickles" is pretty enough, but even in the fairest weather there is a sense of desolation in the rockiness of the scene and the sparseness of the population. DESOLATE SHORES. Often you will pass many islands without seeing a sign of human halo itation, and wben you do see it it will be a little hut or tilt, cm it is called, made of upright logs, driven into . the ground, the chinks filleti in with moss, and the roof ofte.n covered with sod. I have seen a nanny goat contentedly browsing on the roof of a Newfound- land tilt, Sonietirnes the island on -which the tilt stands will be so rocky that the fisherman will have his patch 01 11 garden on a small teland near by. It so bappens that enough soil is col- lected there to make it worth while Lo plant vegetables, yet tbe island is too small for both garden and tilt. So, while the men are out fishing, you will see tbe women rowing across from the tilt island to the garden island in order to till the sparse soil. In winter the misery which prevails along the roast of Newfoundland is terrible. It is not too much to say that every winter many of the dwell- ers on this rooky shore are brought fare to face with starvation, Almost the humblest Canadian would turn up his nose at what these poor people consider luxuries, Oufsele of at. John every place in Necyfoultri lend is called an out - Port. The interior of the island is ab- solutely wild. There are no settlements , of any kind, save some small Indian 1 guide villages in the hunting district. I lie entire outport population may be said to live from fishing in summer, and sealing in winter. FiSTIERMEN'a HARD LIPS. When a Newfoundlander says fish he means codfish. Pesti is to him motley. The fisherman goes to bis trader in the spring end practically mortgages bis (snares eateli for the season, for his summer outfit, which also includes pro- visions. tie considers himself husky if after a hard. season's fishieg he eat tory., in enough flour, tea and molassee to last him and his family over the vs inter. Yelt might suppose ant, he solute put le a stock of fish. But ne, 18 cant affor>b 18 eat fish, any more than 18 cOuld afford to eat enenea. akiniztlodrkeau %If:slag 0041.18'.0.4;110.fourt 8.18 .vironix?., rtaesuriel socirt hIbletg lauskeeps - tbx.Frrey Afrk 414:ewaos: foundland.er, alive him " icing sweeten - *Mg,' as be calls it, for bis tea aria ins biscuit, ana. be will consider himself in the presence of a feast. DRIFTING TO TliE1R DEATH, A missionary told ane he bad once been trying to explain the luxuries -0011 EaTueZpoeuarnol 14etir flliefhee itm° e41313. aKued t43leese- eribed to them the German Emperor's palace, his army and the Trend. style be winch he lived. " And. what do you think he has to eat?" he asked, and Paused for a reply. "Molasses," was the answer, that be- ing the fishertnart's supreme idea of luxury. . is Beviletn lInvormslen tethrant5livehefnisteerims °'N1,11.0'8Itlinifga for hie outfit in summer. Ices is piled up in the bays and tickles, and he will often bone to batil his boat for miles off the ice in order to get to dear wa- ter for fiebiog, Then, eeben the seals come in he goes out with spear or dub and all day long, ancl often far into the night, ranges the ice in search of seal. An off -shore gale springing up teller( the seal -hunters are on the ice means death to many. The ice is apt to break up, and before tbe men can get ashore they find themselves drift- ing out to sea, with all the horrors otilf tabedefaatce,hby freezing staring them up .8valeartn ntbsep rsihnog'rs sealtllef iiaebee rbrar °et': experience with wintry cold is not over. In the spring the sealing steamers leave St. Johns and Harbor Grace with erases of several hundred. men and etann north until they meet the huge floes of ice drifting down from Davis Straits, WINTER HARDSHIPS. De one of the little Newfounaland outports one winter the kerosene oil supply was so small tbat the little community burned only one lamp. It was passed' front house to house, and the people would gather Inc the even- ing- iri the tilt in which the lamp hap- pened. to be. In this way they man- aged to eke out the small oil supply. A priest whose parish work extend- ed along a coast line of some one hun- dred and fifty miles in Notre Dame Ban told me that in winter he made all his visits by dog sled, and that sometimes he would be overtaken, at night by so severe a snowstorm that further progress would be impossible. Then he and Iris guide w-ould dig a deep trench in the snow and light a fire at the bottom of the trench. The gas from the flames would keep( the snowflakes out, one the men would lie in this snow trench until they journeyed, on in the morning. Such is 0116 01 the vicissitudes of parish work in Newfoundland. A $250,000 FOUNTAIN. ;nr. astar emu neat tee Finest one In the wooer. Mr. William Waldorf Astor's new fountain for Cliceden, near London, is the largest private fountain of the kind in the world. It is gorgeous and of enormous expense, and the only fountain Which rivals it in size and appearance is that of the Emperor Wil- liam; in Berlin, the next largest ef the kend being at MOSCOW. Mr. Astor, who expects that this fountain will astonish people when it is exhibited, has called it, "The Foun- tain of Love." The shell alone weighs betwee,ii sixty and seventy tons. This gigantic shell is made of nine pieces of the finest Sienna marble, and is light brown in color, bat the huge blocks have been so skilfully put to- gehter that it is almost impossible to (tee the joints. The nine pieces of Sienna marble out of which the shell is itna.de are the largest blocks of Sien- na marble ever taken out of Italy. Like large cut diamonds, they represent an enormous waste of material. The fountain in its architectural fea- tures represents the development of one idea.. It ie practically simple and de- voide of ornate carving, excepting in the veils?, ---- THE NAKIIICI OF MA MILLIONS UPON MI1,4140NS OF THEN USED EVERY DA,1', if0441 hat Industry That fins made (treat Protease lanelastes a'nat Torn non Oat ire notoiaess Nentlitere Art eionetent orioles, atte:ferillse:.estimate that the average daily atatisticians wham opinions carry scoLants4ustnispt2102/14,000,{0,0(zwetix,ohe:80,poot:itooce upriteocl, daatweal ad 4i47)50arae,080:13wriorittata,axwethaenrueu:bielydp:i'io; consumption is estimated ot 200,000,- 000, Morro than one firm in that calm- trY Produces 10,000,000 a day, and one IT4rmingbarn establishment turns ott tinily eight miles of tbie wax PaPoX and converts It into "vestee," IP Sweden aad Norway, where a lo,to years the trade has developed with great rapidity, there are some (10 fee, tories, 6,000 matelimakers being employ- ed in Jonkoping alone, .Germany and fAallestotrrliaes.t6gOentale efrirhmawien a Ss or,: eYenabsof48.51.0, 13ohenalia, employes 2,700 persons. The foor principal( manufacturers In Vie,nase. furnish employment to, 0,000 people. I13 France making matialesillae the trade in telmeno, is a, government- al monopoly. Cilien•a. ,Tapan, Brazil and osweth,erdi :ungotinociatessinnow menufeetituee mat - cans, and those a China compete with TEE GERMAN MARKETS. Untia the introduction of amorphous phosphorus, which was inane by Proa. Anton von Scroathe, of Vienna, in 1841a Lbs. trade of match -making was very unhealthy. !The emanation of phosph- oric acid, when coalman, phosphorus was used, gave rise to nierosis, a. disease wheat destroys the bones, and fatal ef- fects often follow. Amorphous phosph- orus being entirety fixed at ordinary temperatures, workmen now enjoy eh - solute immunit3r. It is may inflam- mable when rubbed in contact *alb chlorates of potasii oi black oxide of raegaisnesinesux' ann:bsyalseetpYarfar:11:g accidentaltthesniki tetiornial.etaibthiete.ohlorate being placed on the match and tle phosphorus on the fric- "Vesuviane," or "fuses," for smok- ers' use, which no winel short a a tor- nado can blow mete and whiten. will light in a. rainstorm as wall as in aaa weather, ba.ve bulbous heads, made of some slovv 'burning compound, such as o raixture of charcoal, saltpeter, sa-nd and gum, tipped with the igniting cam- positi,on of ordinary snatches. Amadeu, or Gerraane tinder, be considerably used en this kind ,af lighbees. Soraetimes vesuyinam and fuses are mounted. on a thick, round, woven bra -id, instead of a splint of wood.. "Flamers," for the same purpose, have thick beads of flam- ing ettinture, on eit,b.er a wax te,per or a wooden stick. Most of the processes of match man- untetttrer are now effected by machin- ery, and many ingenious inventions nave been introduced for making the wooden splints. By one process a.log of 15 inehes an length, stripped of its bark and SOAKED OR STEAMED, Is pat tato a methane, which unrolis it, as it were, in at continuous strip as wine as the log is long and of the thickness a a. match. This strip es it comes off is declined Leto seven, eaoh equal in width to the length of &match. These narrower strips are broken into lengths of six or seven feet, and atter the knOtty and iimperfeet parts have been removed, a,r efed into a second ma- chine which cuts them into match sticks at the rate of 15,000,000 a day. Another splint-eatttng machine, invent- ed by John Jen Long, of GI•aegow, in 1871, operates an squexed. blocks of two - match lengths, and is capable on pro- ducing 17,000,000 dolly. T,he splints are d.ried in revolvina s and silted to free them from Gro Impure Rood, . Inch are so whiel is on? entr the consi a tvo band it ishe dle a ter p side. vans figur"" wing work surpfteiS Grc and • c figuillar• Ilan Gr womeee bendela lee rival size by a— and ost twinderat t tba,nft If .3 stand roll 1 • want t Pit. coneic tt. , and another has done-sutpass it. Deselect) succeas and it will come. The boy was not born it man. The sun does not rise like a rooket or go down like a bullet fired trora a gait; slowly but surely it makes its round, and never tires. It is as easy to be a leader as a wbeelhorse; if the jab be long, the pay will be greater; If the task be bard, the more eompetent you must be to do t. lent in the spri g. It makes red blood and gives buoyan strength to the entire system. en,ts and splinters and arrange tei parallel order, and then are to a "filling" enenbine of Ara - invention, -which sticks them. in - dipping frames. These fromes , inches squ,are, and each is made thin strips of wood., like blind lying sida by side, and loosely, ,oget,her by iron rods. passing together by iron rods passing h the ends. 'Inventy-tvect hun- 'pants are placed by the methane ae. al rows between the strips of lame, so separated that no one touches another. Tightening rews otn the rods draws the slips er and faste,ns the splints into ame, wthigh is then reany to go e dipping room. The spants in -see trees are heated and thei.r projeet- aat ds are dipped in paratfin, which aseleee- a•- a" - t by warmth in shallow, ettomed pans. After the bath has bsorbed the artaltdies A Common 13red CoviRm CEIVE THEIR HEADS, Feting substanc,e being in some When toned up by Dick's B1 ept ire a unienrat thin stratum Purifier will give as much anta411 121^nd in others supplied by an Is nu,bber belt. A skilful work - rich milk as a highly bred arilan dip 3,500 to 4,000 frames cratic jersey cow gives u4,02,e00 PralL' tell" in °daat, tt'ata' als are 'arranged,Y.inel ordinary feed, and a Jersey d a,pa.rtanent to dry. . pet .every. roanufeeturer has hils when given tplecira inextune for tipping the s. Otte nubltished recipe gives D. ick's gredienis as one leelt"part by of corromon phospaorus, four of Blood COST OF THE CUBAN WAR. The cost of the Cuban wax Iron Web- mem*, 1805, to tate erm of IRO? IA offici- ally estienetee at $240,000,000, be of gottedit two of glue, one of As it makes a less noisy match ,e of ponied). is sometimes saltine I. , for ehlorate. Other osciel tan ing agents use(' stead of, or in cormection with, these sales of eotaeb are the °elide of miengratiese and red oxide, or diax- iide of teed. According to Gautier. the igniting mixture for ordinary matehes made in France Is oomposed of. three parts of eommon phosphorus, (leo of lead aioxide, two of sand and theee of gum, Tbe 881118 author states. that, saf- ety ntatehes are clipped en a vompoeitioti of five parts of ohlorate of potash, two 01 sulipatede of arettlimony &kid one of glue and that the rubbing surface for then), is a mixture of five pawls of amorphous phosphorus, lour ot salohtle of unarm- ony end ttvo and a ballet glue, arn four of fineda powdered