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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1894-4-13, Page 2TEE Blit88EL8 POST. Jvitwr. 13, 1894 THE LADY! TROTJBLESOME u'l be .sorry, --truly 1 mat. I tyie CHAPTER IX. Mrs. Minny was oddly pale mid quiet cvhcc Oliver met her in the hotel perlOr. :she looked as if she had .not slept; and hie lheart throbbed et the pu.in le had caused Sher, Of eoorse elle ,.ad worried Mutat ler .atraugc position ,snit the trouble in Denver -ma account of it. He could tell hoe at least the fear of the divorce was over. Death Arad settled the ease. Yet it was hard to tell her of that death, He hesitated and alkel of the weather, n " she " Itis always horrid in Chiaag,,1 otos ,said mournfully. " I shall hate this hotel, •vno; they tvould not leo me have Skye in :my room ; they put Wins in some cellar, ectad he was not like himself when I took whirn for alittle walk before you 00810." had Oliver had et hun0h uf' rosea he h 1sught for her on his way, brit it seemed avers lioartlets to offer them to such an m3licted being. However, he sat down be. Mile her ea the sofa and laid the flowers on ,leer lap. " Thank you," she said mournfully, "I ,41on't think I ought to wear them. The ehamberinaid asked me if I was a,skirt• .dancer." The gloom settled on Oliver now. " She waa impudent," he Baia, crossly. d' You see how impoesibie it is for a young lady 30 go to hotels alone." "Welt, you didn't offer to come with rile," she sighed : " you even went to an. other hotel. Oh, 1 know I I looked for you in the register." " You wore down in the off .e?" "I had to go down for m;' dog and to tell them how mean they vera," Mrs. Minny said, wearily. "Alnyou don't :know what an awful groat ghostly room they gave me, fall of closets and wardrobes And planes for people to hide, I burned ^'he gas all night, and I had dreadful :dreams." She bowed her 1 end over the 3'lowera and sighed again. " Rosea matte me think of funerals : do they you?" ' I sin sorry I troubled yor with them," Oliver said stiffly. Now you are cross, and you've got 'abort little wrinkle on your for,hcad.' She looked at hint thoughtfully. " When you ore smiling I think you are the kindest 'friend in the world. I guess I am cross myself. Do you know, I dreamed 3lenri came into that room last might. The bath•roon bad a little window looking Tato the room, and I dreamed he looked through this at me and made dread - fel faces. He used to frighten me that way once.,"—sire blushed and hung her head than, and wan silent a moment,—" when :we were drat married, you know. He'd *.crake me up by staring at me,—testing the power of the eye, he called it. I was afraid, anyway, because my mother had just died, and I had never seen a deed person before. I can see her yet in her eotnu,so dreadfully ce over waxen that if ieie l he died first he would come batik ik and hunt me. After the dream I couldn't sleep, but lay shivering with fear 'antis daylight. I mast go an ay from here :o -day. Another night iu the'; room would Brighten me to dead." She trembled so at the tho milt, Oliver felt his task doubly difficult. "Don't yon think," he asked, gently, "that those fears are very childish?" "Of course," she said, briefly, "I know I am um senaibte ; you, Aunt Hannah, and Doctor John call me frivolous ; yet I have tried to do right. I came hero on my way to sem your good name, and I get scolded. 1 tried to go horns once,—the time I was so ihok • and even Aunt Hannah said I was of afraklall the time ; and to was 00 Sloe im . hgave lthn ill ivamma'N money, end he took rjewe's, everything of value.t1 k1e(iot a hypocrite, Mr. Oliver ; 'f can't m up ,eon'ow just to please you, ha whispered "I dont want you to, p close to her ear. They were alone in a corner of the big room, std ito one could see. "I spoke hastily becomes I hated to think of that einem and how yen would make yourself believe he cone baok,' She drew away from him indignantly. "I tun not a child, 1Ir. ()livor, and you must not treat me ae one. In some things in suffering and worry, I aril older a out you are ; and few women could coin unscathed from the horrors of that ranch. I did. I kept 01y reason because I was mous and had rely little dog to love, anda bright's:msh my day would chase all hey night terrors away, 1 d say ' ihlinny, it'sgootd'e at to bo alive,' But always I have been of 1d in the dark ; when 1 was aohild queer faces used to peer at ole, faros eirelod in yellow light. As T grew older, I was more afraid of them, and slept in a lighted room. At the ranch Henri used to crawl up the porch and peer in the window with et mask on, until I shot one night : than it Watt not so funny. It amused hihn to torture me. I wont tell you any more, you can't under- stand. Bat I shell not go to Denver. 11 would be a mockery." of need not "Doctor John telegraphed y —you must not come. -Shell I tell you any more?" "No." She ro0o and scattered the petals of one of her flowers on the carpet, brush- ing her dress with a trembling hand. "Nor will 1 put-on black. I shall go home; What is my home, Mr. Oliver?" she oriod, accusingly. "You have brought me here. I was doing your bidding. /sty aunt has left me : she has taken my baby. Themau I married i rest in me but t haunt un deed: 1Everybody as no is gone, I who have made all the trouble am left to bear it alone. If she comes back she will kuow of this,—my being here : she will mistrustme ; even Doctor John will. 1 seem to have grown old and wise, and, oh, so tired of the world 1" "Come here, Minny," he said in a strange tone. She started, and looked into his face. It had a different expression e sskind, and ow, yet the gray eyes there was a tender smile about hie mouth. She hesitated, then she returned to the sofa, sitting gingerly at the extreme end. He turned so as to face her, but eat no nearer. "Minny, we are both culprits,—innocent ones. We have been punished long enough. If I thought --bet I am twice your age, you have not been happy in bondage, and it would be bondage still, though a loving one. No red-haired young man in it, 110 wild journeys alone, no drawing back when once entered in. If I dared to dream, I would hope that you eared for me. I would say, Minny, I love you; let us go away front aur troubles and have a long vacation. 1t is dreadful to talk this way in the shadow of death, but I cannot let you go back to Baine alone or to the terrors there in that lonely house. I do not know where your aunt is, or when she will return ; and if people should talk of this time, 1 could silence then if you wele,nybwife." theShe was etraugely quiet, roses tremble an her breast. " You talk, Craig," she said, sadly, "as if this were part of your sacrifice for help- ing ale once, for being a kind friend." "How cruel women can be,—even the sweetest of them 1 Hew can I be different, when I mustremembel the dead in Denver? aolOtiln ceremony was OW, 'Wiley Were 0(01• rigid in a shabby parsonage of Mt out-of•thc ni way church, by an underfed, parson ( _ r threadbare McMinn, and Minny's he(tefotts heart rejoined when elm caught a glimpse of a fifbydoll:tr bill Oliver paid for the few moments' tall( that meant so mnoh, h ceremony that, 14, after all, the strongest link 1(t the chain of human happiness, Oliver had told his two friende something of the events promoting this etrttnge met, rialto, so they "were Matfett enough to Qy the right things at the little dinner the ft. lead in Dile very private room where Minny had eaten the day before. Skye behaved pretty well, and the only cloud on his mie- treee's brow was when one of the strangers stupidly asked if the dog Was going ou the wedding -trip. " Of oourne, the said, decidedly. "Of course," edhoed Oliver, meekly, and the two pewee smiled the - old, old smile of the mm'ried man who knows. "It wee a little like Hamlet," Mi. whispered when she and her husband, and of course the dog, drove to the depot,— "tire weddiug.feast." her He laid This finger lightly onlips. "Sweet, there are things best unsaid." " You will find me so full of faults," she sighed, in remarkable meekness. "Skye, give me your paw ; this is your new papa, and if he gets cross, why, I can pet you.i It will be no new experience to you, unhappy dog." Then Oliver laughed and hugged her. What a child you age 1" he said. At the depot he sent a telegram to Doc- tor John "I have married Mrs. do Reetaud. We are off on a trip, and want to hear nothing from Denver. Tell my olorks I won't be hone for four mouths. Have sent word to Jones and Bailey to take my cases. I am happy and she is divine. We have the dog along."" Craig Oliver." W hen, after two months' absence, Oliver telegraphed Dootor John is forward hie mail to St. Augustine, the first letter he conned was one addreesed to himself from -New- castle, Maine. Mrs. Miuny leaned on his shoulder as lie read : "Dear Mr Oliver,— "The first thing 10aw on my getting home from Paris, France, woe a letter in my niece Minny's unreadable handwriting, which she says is Malian, but is as hard to road as a picket fones. I would have wrote right away, but the house was in eualh a mess from shiftless people—I left some Baileys in charge of it—that I had to turn to and go houee•cleaning before I could live in the place. I made out that Minny was married to you, and most likely on the very day her first husband was being buried. I do hope folks here won't learn of it: my family has given the village more to talk about than they ever had before, and they are dragging me over the coals now. Most of 'em knows I've been to France, and they pester me to death inquiring round. " I guess I ou about felt obliged to marry Minny to take care of baronet I foresee she set a store by you before her first husband died. I was right, too, in questioning you about her. Well, folks' ways fe different nowadays. if Pd had niele ninny's bad luck with one man I never should have tak- en another one." with the new nurse. I forget to til you I never thought of t11at oat till I was eating dinnel'three hours afterwards; and I jmnp• ed right up, and was running out, butt Jlotiry's brother, n respectable solemn• looking man, sent neo of the help out, and and a bill there must have been, tut he wouldu t lel me settle. 'Fore 11oft, news of Henry's death come, and upset them all, and thou ,Lewis and Annette wee ex. sleeted, and, as I didn't want to see thein two,—•especially stun, -I went away. They sent a oordial m¢ibe for Minny to come hot I told them 1 guessed she'd like Amor. lea beet, as 1 do, where you eau tell what folks Nay when they are talking. "The general give me to undereband they would legally adopt Fra(iky, and 1 told 'em you would sign any documents— as I' known you would—for the boy's sake. He will have a fine property some day. 1 was awfully lonesome going home; my old arms waeempty, and I pried myself to sleep lots of nights, Mi u °I will now close. Ile good toand stn , Mr. Oliver, and come down coyly y all mummer. "Yours to command, "HAf3NAn PATTEN." Sometimes, as the years glide by, firs. Minny's arms are empty too, and her heart yearns for the 111310 baby over the sea. No. other child has conte to her, and her hue, baud frowns at the mention of a journeylittle to France : he is jealous of even hold the lost baby has on her aff'oo€ions so there he a thorn in hor bed of roses. Skye, too, is old and sleepy ; oe ie it herself who has no desire for play ? le'she becoming grownup and different? Will he love hor met the same, perhaps more? Ho must tire of her childishness. But he does love her, and so fondly. :Oliver, on his part, saw the decoy of his political prospects with calmness. He heard one day at the club something they did not wish him to hear. A knot of men were disoussing the possibility of 1110 secur- ing the nomination for governor in the ooming election. " Never in the world," said one of his friends. "There is some story about his wife : she does not go in society ett all—a pretty little thing. I wonder, though, how a matt can throw away Ills future for a pretty face." ' What was wrong?" asked another. "Pin not sure," answered the first. "I do know he married her the day alter hor husband—that crazy' French fellow, De Res- taud—died, and that heron awaywith her0ne night from her home up in the North Park Oliver had a shooting box there. You couldn't make him governor; reviler exodus of our wives to the Beat : they never would call on her." The words stung Oliver a little ; but that evening, when his wife ran to meet him at the door wearing a little yellow gown, too, as in that night in the past, with Skye et her heels, he smiled in content. How in- finitely small wore all honors men might give man beside the real heart -happiness of love! He thoaght he would rather be married than be Presideut; and he blessed the kind• ly fate that led him to the valley of the Troublesome and the little Troublesome lady there. [Tate ESD.] THE GLACIAL PERIOD IN :CANADA Thestivers er See 4ylslell Bade loo Undo, melons or Oneerlo, Appropos of Dr, Wilson's paper recent ly road before the Geological Section of the ',Royal Society of Canada on the glealal ported in Canada, but few people ever re, fleet that at gees time this Barb of Ontario was a region 01 rivers of ice or gleoier0, which had their rise at the North Polo, But ouch is the thee ; In the glaoiol period the emitter heat which prevailed over On. tario and other temperate regions luring the tertiary age wee succeeded ran awe m Yet, Minny, I could talk love to you , Maim? I held mimed that red-headed young I other women have said I did that thing brave then When my horseY nv Alr,T10 COLD. The oap of ice e'hioh now Douses emelt pole extended far towards the equator. On this Oohtlnent Ontario, Quebec, all New Haw land, New York, and other parts in the same latitude were covered by it. In Europe, too, those parte that have now ghaelere far up in the valleye of tlheir,moun- talne were then covered with them, as Greenland is now. The change in temper - attire was a gradual one, produced, as hi supposed, by the elevation of all the land in r body at the north to o much higher level than it ie at present. The glaciers of that period moved down valleys, as the glaciers at the present day In the Swiss Alps. As a consequence of the action of giaciers and icebergs in the glacial period, there is scattered ell over the northern part of America what is oalled drift. It le various in its composition, the material being 0and or gravel, or boulders of various sites. A glacier carries along with it whatever of loose material it finds iu its course, and, therefore, there is always a row of stones of various sizes lying along upon the ice on each side of the glacier. These are called moraines. Toward the termination of e glacier, the 020101nes become lose and loss distinct, from the melting of the ion. And as we get further south, the fewer boulders are found on this account. Now of all this material which we call drift, none was produced where it lies, but it was transported to ata localities, and for the most pert from the north toward the south. This drift must have produced great changes on the surface, filling up valleys here and there, necking lakes over- flow, and altering TILE COURSE OF RIVERS. mean said 1 was game." She lookeci ab 11103 wickedly out of the -corner of her eye. Alittle smile curved her pretty mouth as she saw tho wrinkle on his forehead. I with you could be sorioas for a little while," Oliver muttered. " I want to 1elk -o you about something thatconcerns your failure,—something that has happened." Oliver hesit,tted now: how could he tell ?ter? She listened with hor eyes on the car- pet, a doletut expression on her face, He went off on a new tack. In an easy con• versathonal tone he asked,— " Would yon not like to 1190 in Prance ?" "No," she said, promptly: "I should Into it." Why?" "Becouse—because," enamored Mrs. Minny _picking viciously at ono of her roses, scattering the petals on the floor, " from IHenri's deecriptions his relations must be horrid. Then he or they think America queer and not nice ; everything is France. !should be mad a hundred tines a day. The English up iu the Park used to say, • This bloated country, you know,' until I felt like saying, ' Why don't you go book to England and stay there?' To the De 'testae& I should be Ole unpleasant foreign - or our poor sou married ; in my own coun- try I am myself, an American. I think it it very meat of you to talk about my going to France; and et this is tht seriuua thing you needn't, tall[ any more. If you are going to be horrid I think Ishall go out and take my dog for a walk." How sweet she was in her wilfulnessOliver forgot 1 at the lovely childish i face awithlookingop gnuting mouth anti rebellious eyes. "I think you aro cruel to my poor rose," he acid, softly. " You are cruel to me." "'Minny," he drew nearer and took in his firm warm clasp her little hand, "I must tell you something,-00mething that will shook and grieve you Try and be brave." "Nos the little baby?" she oried,piteous' ly. "lle is not dead?" "No, tio; but some one is dead,—one that you feared, almost hated, and now must forgive and try to think kindly of,— the man whose name you hear---" She gave a frightened cry and hid her face against his sleeve. He could feel hor tremble and quiver, but she made no sound. What must he do? Would she faint? How did women act, anyway 1 He put his arm around the mirroring figure and tried to look into her face. She was ghastly pale, in hor eve a curious frightened look. " My dream, Mr. Oliver 1' she Dried, slmddering. "Oh, he will keep his words be will houtIt me always. I shall go mad from fear. Last night that was hilts, He looked just, us he used t0 when he welts MO Lip making faee. I am all alone. What than I do ? Olt, if Aunt Hannah were only there 1 I mild creep up to her in the night. She le so breve ; she said she wouldn't be afraid of him living or dead," "Minny, you ore talking foolishly," said Oliver, sternly. "No dead person comes book. I am ashamed of you. And to be 00 silly, so heartless, when that poor soul is lying dead 1" You don't knowanything aboutthe ' ' th dead t no one does, she gasped. y grandfather was drowned at sea, and that night he came and knookodatgrandmother's door --iia old knock—throe times. Even well, and I did not car: for thein : Your little finger is more precious to me than all the women I have ever known." She sighed and moved a little nearer, a blush on her fair cheek. "Try me, Miner. I swear to you those dear oyes shall never shed tears from any word or set of mine. I have loved you since you came out iu the light that dismal right and 1 thought you n little girl." "And I loved you," she whispered, lifting her tousled head from his arm, "when you looked so disgustedly amazed at tat Ings ia that ranch that I told you,all sudden smiled oneness you are smiling now. Craig, I mean totry and be grown-up and good always." "No, no; ;just be yourself. And now, dear, go smooth your heir end get your things ou. We will be married in the quietestway. I know a eoupls of fellows I can get for witnesses we cat pick them up on the road." She jumped up all rcay ono smiling. At the door she looked back. "May I take the dog, Craig?" she said, hesitatingly. He smiled. "Of course," haeaid, resign- edly. " You don't have to ark ' may I ' we are comrades, ynu know. By the way. tell the chambermaid to pact your trunk. Pay her. We will go away In the early afternoon. 1 want t,t be free from all memories." She kissed her hand as she ran away, and he, somewhat dazed at the turn matters had taken, looked out on the street with unseeing eyes. In his haat(, though, ho was happy, deliriously so. He hod loved her from the first, and there bad been few holi- days in his busy life. Ile would forget that ghastly spectre lying at the morgue in Denver, and for months live Mr love. The world lay all before the : they would put the past by. "1 will steal my hat pitons from life," he cried. "Let the world condemn me, I eau fight her battles ; and no bean knowing my story and here, seeing her frightened, tortured by thatmaniae's memory, would do otherwise titan I do now." Mrs. Minny appeared in he: jaunty tray elling•suit, iter seal -satin jacket, it dainty dotted veil over her hat, and her dog under her arm. "I never get married like other people," she esid,cheerfully. "Look a; me in these clothes : and the ocher time I had on an old dress, too." Oliver winced. "Perhaps s t tho third you'll have bettor luck, my pit." "I have said something awft.1,Isuppo" she laughed, " but I am so happy 1don't caro,and Isaid good- bye to thatghost•room. Oh, yin so glad I've got somebody alive to be with 1" "I believe you are marrying me out of leer," he said, as they drove ening in the carriage. 'Vol don't think that, swoeteese," she ottr lovely look. LeiYoulwaya wereoo alikve e at yman out of a novel to me. A city bachelor, Aunt Hannah says. Won't she be athrpris- e(' ? but, do you know, she said I had lean- inge towards you all the time," Mrs. Minny was very reserved when the two strange gentlemen joined them, and when the marriage service was being read trembled a little, until Skye, yawning dolefullyq--Ile hod not slept well, or clog, in the hotel cellar—made Oliver looked back into the rosy face leaning over his chair. " Well, Minny?" " You dear thing," cooed Mrs Minny, with a soft little kiss, "oho don.'( dream how lovely you are 1 stead on 3 I don't Dare. Aunt Hannah's letters are like cold shower - baths : they aend,ohills all over yon, and stings, but make you feel good afterwards. ' "lam ears, though, you, being well on in years, can regulate Miney's condnet, and be stern with her, too. Mrs. Poole is mighty bitter towards Minny for her goings- on -with Sam, and says he's taking: to smoking cigars endplaying billiards since she rode with him and anted so flirtatiously. But Minny didn't do much." (" Aunt Hannah's relenting," laughed airs. ''Andlthat Poole boy ain't half baked, anyway: none of the Proles ever were. I want you to see that Minny wears her rubbers when it's wet, and takes oare of herself; for her mother's folks is weakly, and her mother died of consumption." Oliver drew his wife to his knee, and dropping the letter,looked at her anxiously. "The Pattens are awfully long-lived," she said, merrily. "Don't be a goose. She didn't think I would hear that, you know." "I shall take you to Doctor John," he said, seriously, "when we get home." "I like him so much 1" she murmured. " In my trunk I have his smoking -cap; I'll give it back, now I have you. I kept it to remember our ride by." Oliver took up the letter again. "I ,ian't have no regrets that Mister de Restaud is dead. He was a dreadful profit - leas man to everybody, and made Minny unhappy enough. 1 hope he had change of heart afore he died in that asylum; but DoctorJohn wrote he didn't know anything. It was good of Doctor John to go there and stay by him : therm ain't, to my mind, many men angels walking about on earth, but the doctor's ono of 'stn. Before I for- get it, bring silo with you when you Dome down next smmmer, ass lope you will come Mr. Oliver, for I set a atone by you on ac- count of your kindness to the poor child." ' You see oho pats you on the back now,' chirped Mrs Minny. "Before I close my letter I must tell you about my visit to Paris, France; and, though it seemed heartless to take .Lanny away, Minny is honest about it aud she will tell you I done right. I was mortal afraid Henry would steal him off, aud, as he is a croupy child, he would get his death: so I justtook him myself across ocean to Henry's folks. I wa'n't much sick on the voyage, nor the baby, but was bothered most is France on account of folks not.understand- ing mo. Howsomever, there teas some Philadelphia people along that L got ao. quainted with, and they set me right, for they could talk with the French. Finally, when I got to the general's house, coming in a;cab that charged a mortal bill for waiting on emeount of me being interested in talking, I fond the general in—a fine ofd man, too, and be ootid talk English reasonable well. I upend told him everything, keeping lrran- kyon my lap. 'Now,' soya I, 'if you don' t want thispoet little child and treat him as your own,I take him to my home, foam well- to-do and the little croetur a grown into my affections.' Goodness mo, he knowed most of it, that man Lewis having kept him informed. Ile eat right down and talked friendly as possible, said Minny ought to have come to him, he would treat her es a daughter ; then his eyee filled with tears, and he boost little Fronky in his arms and told me their Alphonse wasdead, and hie oldest eon's wife was a helpless invalid who wept night and day. I took my things and went up•etairs with hint to her room, --- such a grand hoose 1—and there Oho was, a pale little oreetur, that could only jabber iD Prentih; but baby smiled on her, --•boblea knows any hareguage,—and she shook hands kind with me, and the up. shot of the matter was I obeyed two weeks in their hours, till Frankie got aognainted PERSONAL POINTERS, Mr, Andrew Carnegie has just rented 13(tokhurat hall, in Kent, England,' an old sandstone , for its stately L' e 1 r nao 'elebat ail i, towers, General Booth, of the Salvation Army, will visit Canada this fall, when he will toonduet a jubilee Salvation campaign throoghout the Dominion aud the United States. 141 Gladstone is very orderly in his habits, and does only one thing at a time. In foot, from what his daughter,Mrs. Drew, says,he works pretty much likes mechanic in his literary labours. Lord Roaobery'e eon and heir, who bears the title of ,Lord Dalmeny, is a bright boy about 12 years old, There are also several little daughters in the big munition in Ber- keley chore, Loudon. Thie is the Earl's town house, his chief estate being Dalmeny park, neer Edinburgh, of nd wears the The Queen Regent of H la p'aiuestpoaeible clothes, but spends much time end thought on hor amen daughter's toilets, Everything little Queen Willies. mina wears in of the most exquisite texture, end all the linen, fairylike in fineness, ba- the "W" and Drown beautifully embroider. ed upon it. New postage stamps are to be issued in ,Tapan in commemoration of the silver wedding of the Emperor and Empress. They are oblong in shape, and the design temente of the imperial" chrysanthemum in the centre, with a circular inscription of the words, "Imperial wedding, twenty-fifth anniversary," in English and Japanese; on the side of the chrysanthemum aro storks worked in scroll, Dr. A. Conan Doyle is au enthusiastic cricket-player,lusso orers of the game in N orwo and is one of the d zealous srb g the suburb of London where he makes his home. Readers of the. sporting papers during the summer months see his name in them Saturday after Saturday. He' has recently been at Davos Plate, the quiet of which he found groatly to his liking, but will no doubt be back in England by the time the cricket season opens.—[Naw York Tribune. A marked instance we have of the latter change in the ossa of the Niagara River. There is decisive evidence that oho bed which it flowed in, from the whirlpool on- ward, until the glacial epoch, was then filled up with drift, and the water opened for itself et now gorge through solid rook, through which ie has run to the present time. Facts About the Opal. Now that opals nave been restored to favor, and it is understood that, instead of being omens of i11 fortune, they are really lucky stones, it is easy to understand why supernatural agencies have been ascribed to the faaeinating gem, and it may bo of interest to learn something of how to best preserve its brilliancy and beauty. There is probably no other stone ao susceptible to outside influences as ac opal. It is a soft stone, which acts like a prism, dividing the light and throwing out all the varying hnee of the rainbow. The play of coloring is constantly changing. Dullness and bril- liancy succeed each other with the regularly of alnospheria variations, moderate warmth having a distinct laminating effort, while mnoh heat is capable of robbing the atone of all its beauty by drying the moisbu re contain- ed in the minute cells.It is a curious fact,too, that there are vapors emited from thehuman body in certain diseased conditions tit are capable of rendering the atone dull and opaque. And the fading of life and foetan0 ad the fading of the opal may be simultan- acme, but the atone is the innocent victim of the condition of the wearer, not the cause of disaster. Sir Walter Scott, in "Anne of Geierstein," distortetheproperty of the opal bo heighten the uncanny elem- ent in his story, and to carry ont this plot, =ekes use of the supernatural. To this story may be traced that "unaomtortable feeling," about an opal which people, not at all superstitious in other matters, cannot seem to shake off. If a man or woman attempts to wear one, friends sod aegoaintanees continually bring up the old superstition.) until the uncanny etone sometimes cos a to delight. But is is time the old superstition be sent flying after the old witch and her broom- stick ; for in the old days rho atone was highly prized as an omen of good fortune. Most of the finest opals come fron Hungary, but the principal vein has been exhausted lately, so that the gem in its finest variety is exceedingly rare. The clear, bright opals with the luminous fire some front Mexico. Any opal, and particularly the Mexican atone, becomes dull by washing the hands with the rings on, and they lose their brill - ant play of color. The stones are not dur- able like diamonds, nor will they stand the mane hard wear. Very few people stop to think when they see a big stone or boulder on the road side in these parts, that it came here during the glacial period, thousands of years ago; yet such is the case. The distances which these boulders have been transported have been much investigated. The ordinary dis- tances aro from 20 to 40 milds, but they have been often caeried 60 to 100 miles. Hitchcock speaks of some boulders found in Ohio end Michigan which came from the ancient Azoic rooks of Canada, and calculates that they must have been brought from a diatanoa of from 400 to 000 miles. A largo boulder on the 4111 conces- sion of London, near Hyde Park, on Mr. Thos. Sxiptot's property, muat have come from Thunder Bay, or up that way, at this period. These distances are discovered by comparing the boulders with the rocks of the uountry, thus tracing them book to the sources from which they came. This pert of Ontario, in place., has had s full share of the glacial period, as far as boulders are any indication.—[London Free Press. Ths great' public reception given in Philadelphia in honour of Kossuth, on De- cember 24, 1851, is recalled by an old resi- dent in the Philadelphia Record. "I well recollect his handsome appearance as he rode in a carriage along Chestnut street, and the fervor of tho welcome he received. Medals hearing his profile were sold about the streets, his soft felt hat, with sable plume, was the fashion of the day, and full beards, with monetache, which before that time were seldom worn in this country, were gradually introduood. But the dis- tinctly national spirit evoked by his pros- enoo here, as the formally invited guest of our Government, was the most memorable effect of his visit. In my opiulon, the true spirit of nationality reached 110 height here then."—[New York Tribune. PHONOGRAPH AMONG SAVAGES. Aunt Hannah says that story's tame. 1 her simile and 010 was radiant when the Rosebery's Genealogy. Lord Rosobery, the new Prime Minister (says a correspondent), is not only a Sootrh- man,but is a lineal descendant of more then one Scottish family some of whose members were intimately associated with the great struggle for civil and religious freedom which only came to an end with the Revolution of 1688. Amongst" the Ladies of the Covenant' novo had a higher place then Grizel Baillie. She was one of the daughters of Sir Patrick Hume, and was horn in t665. When her father's friend, Robert Baillie, of Jer- viewood, "the Scottish Sydney," was in prison, she was entrusted to deliver an important letter to him.With the aid of the son of the prisoner, George Baillie, she ac- complished her task. For some time Sir Patrick Hume had to conceal himself in the vault of Polwa th church. His daughter, Grizel, was in the secret, and at midnight she conveyed to him food, which, in order that the ht nt be awakened,isheldropped ons of roff hevants riplate into her lap while seated at thedinner table. Sir Patrick and hie family, including Grizel, were for a few years exiles inHolland,ttntil the Revolution made it safe to return to Scotland. RobertBaillie was executed in the Grassmarketof Edinburgh on the Christmas eve of 1684. Eight years afterwards his son, Geotge Baillie, wedded Grizel Hume, w1th whom he had fallen in love when she con- veyed the letter to hie father in Edinburgh prison. Their danghterliaohelmarried Lord Binning, tho oldest son of the sixth Earl of Haddington. One of the daughters of Lord Binning, named Grizel, atter her brave grandmothor married the second Earl of Stanhope. His great-granddaughter, Lady Catherine Stanhope, married in 1943 Lord Dalmeny, and her Don io the present Lord Rosebery, now The Wosulerrett Talking Machine Im- pressed The South Sea Islander& When one of the Australian Squadron was patrolling the South Seas lately, she came up with a sailing -vessel, and one of her officers boarded the stranger. She proved to he a colonial craft, engaged in recruiting Kannkes for the Qofficer plontations. On hoard, thenaval noticed a phonograph. Ile was told that before the vessel left Queensland, the cap- tain visited some of the sugar.plantations where South Sea Islanders aro employed. He took a camera and a phonograph ; and then he went into biathlon of photograph- ing groups of natives on the plantations, also taking individual pictures of well- known natives from the New Hebrides, and others from the Solomon Group. Edison's invention was then brought into service, the best known of the natives, es- peoially those who have relatives and friends in the islands, being asked to speak into the phonograph anything they would like to tell their friends. Large numbers of theca phonographed letters were procured, giving accounts of what sort of life the Kanakas were having on the plantations and any other nows that would interest the " old folks at home" at Mallicollo, Ambrym, San Christoval, Malaita and other islands. After securing a good supply, the ingenious ship -master sailed for the islands, and when last seen, was astonishing the natives. Many of the photographs he had transferred to glass tor use with the limelight, and with the phonograph he was in a position to give such an ocular exhibition of life on aplant- ation that fairly changed the native doubts into an enthusiastic desire to emigrate. Nor was this all. At the limelight show he would produce a full-sized picture of an absent friend, a native who was well known in the island in which the ship -master happened to be, and to the amazement of his dusky audience, would make him speak words of greeting from his plantation -home m Bundaberg—a thousand miles away. If any misgivings were felt before the phonograph was produced, that bewitched machine dispelled them by making the limelight -figure of their friend address the natives in their own tongue, and in the same voice that they knew so well when he dwelt among them. Needless to say, the phonograph has proved a valuable recruit - ng accessory,—[Che Mail, Sydney, Aus- tralia. Marking His Own. A crowded couch started for one of those excursions which take place daily during the season in the English Lek° district. Just as a very steep descent was being approached, the passengers heard the guard suggest to the driver the advisability of putting the drag on and applying the brake. "I'll try it to -day without," said the dauntless Jehu. "Hold hard, ladies and gentlemen," and forthwith, gathering up his ribbons with the utmost care, he start- ed down the declivity at a pace which was nota little terrifying to the majority of the passengers, "Have you a bit of chalk?" said one, solioitouely, to a pompous but nervous gentleman. ' Chalk ?was the irritable reply. "Chalk indeed? What can you want With chalk ab such it moment as thia ? "Olt,"was rho miohievous answer, given in tones of sad 00n0eril, " I was Piet t111n1: ing that sane of our logs and arms aro like ly to be flying about before we reach the bottom of the hill, and that it would he very desirable for every man to mark This own, for the purpose of indeutication." Troublesome Children. Suicide in The German Army. The Militar•Wochenblatt gives some in- teresting statistics as to the number of cases of suicide in the German army. The most important fact which they record la that during the last year fewer cases of sutcidhs were recorded lo the Prussian army than in any year since 1878. The report lays stress on the fact that euioidee in general are of moth more frequent oe- Othrrenee in countries with a Gormitnie than in those with a Slav or Rommniopopulation. In Germany, which stands first on the list, there fen yearly average of 2.71 suicides to every 10,000 of the population, while in France, Austria, England, and Italy the averages aro 11.87, 1.63, .76, and •46, re- spectively. As regards suicides in the army, Austria comes first with 12.63 to every 10,000 men, followed by Germany with 0.133, Italy wits: 4, Prnnoe with 3.33, England with 2.00 These liguree aro ut1 fortunately not quite -complete or up to date, some of the eta118L100 failing for Bavaria, Saxony, and \V1lrtontberg. Equally incomplete aro the results of the investiga- tionset to the com0es of suicide i11 the army, i having been found impracticable to disoov er the mesons in one-third of the inetaneea As fur as known, the fear of punish. merit for mis0ondunt plays 1110 chie f part fu driving soldiers to self•dostrudtion ; and it is worthy of notide that twice a many non-commissioned officers as privates fall by their own hand in the cense of the year. Aunty : "What a lot of pretty dolls you have." Little Niece : " Yes aunty, they is zeal pretty, but I do have so much trouble wir cern. Sometimes I fink they must bo all boys." ' An Eggshell Sold for $1,500. Competition for the egg of the Great Auk offered at Stevens's Auction Rooms proved very keen, says the London Telegraph. It is believed that there are but sixty-eight specimens of this egg in existence, and the bird itself, it is to bo feared, is extinct. It was mot in the Orkneys down to 1819, and the very last survivor of its race porlshod, it is thought on ono of the islands, off the coast of Iceland in 1844. The egg now offered came from Yarrell's collection, the owner of which obtained it h om a Boulogne fishwife with four swans' eggs on a string for 10f. After the collect- or's death it was Bold for 20 guineas to the late Mr. Frederick Bond, from whom it nl- timately cane into the possession of Baron Louis d'Hamonville,who haeretained it till now. The hist egg of the Great Auk, sold a year ago,realized E225, and the present eats was started by the auctioneer with a bid of 11100, Then it advaloed rapidly to :1200, when there was some plum, and finally the relic found -a now owner in Sir Vauucey Crewe for 300 guineas, a somewhat largo advance on 10f. Clpeumstanees Alter Sittings. Jaok has finished my portrait." "At last 1 I did ti t think he ever would." " Oh, yes 1 He's been at work on it only a ear." "Dear me I Isn't that a long time?" " We didn't think se. We're engaged now."