HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1896-6-19, Page 2(t t CHAPTER XXXYII.
"Was I deceived, or did a stable cloud
Warn forth her silver lining on the
night?" Milton,
The two months that Dorian has glv-
eta himself in witiult to riots)) the beet:
!less that, he said, had brought hint
40m0, have almost come to an end. Al-
xeody winter is passing out of mind,
and "'Spring comer up this way."
The "checkered daffodil" and the soft
Plaintive primrose are bursting into
bloom. The gelato rain comes with a
passing cloud, and sinks lovingly into
the earth's bosom and into the hearts
Of the' opening buds' the world,
`Tbe grass is springing; all
is rich with fresh young 1ife. Tito
very snowdrops—pale blossoms, born of
hitter winds and sunless skies '--have
perished out of sight.
Ruth is lying in her grave, cold and
forgotten save by two,—the man who
Was most wronged her, and the woman
who had most to forgive ber. As yet,
Clarissa cannot rise out of the depres-
sion that fell upon her when HoraCe'e
itreaohery was first made known to her.
Her love had seemed so good, so tend-
er, it had so brightened all her life,
and had been so much a part of her
existence, that it seemed to carry to the
grave with it all her youth and glad -
teem. However untrue this young love
of her life had been, still, while she be-
lieved in It, it had been beautiful to
Tier; and it .s with bitterest grief she
Blas laid it aside; to her it had been a
living thing, and even as it fades from
her, she cries to it aloud to stay, and
feels her arms empty in that it no long-
er fills them,
"But, oh, not yet, not yet
Would my last soul forget
Sow beautiful he was while he did live.
Or, when his eyes were dewy and
lips wet,
What kisses, leaderer than all re-
gree,
• My love would give,
"Strew' roses on his breast,
He loved the roses test;
S1. Letor beatbis bired tter r lend. o£ his or for sweet
quest;
Let be the pallid silence, that is rest,
And let all gol"
Mr. Winter's exquisite words come
often to her; and yet, when the first
pang is over, a sensation that may be
almost called relief raises her soul and
restores her somewhat to her old. self.
She is graver—if possible, gentler,
more tender—than an the days before
grief had touched her. And, though
her love had really died beyond all re-
awakening, still the memory of what
once had ween has left its mark upon
her.
To Sir James she has never since men-
tioned the name of the man in whom
she had once so firmly believed, though
oftentimes it has occurred to her that
relief might follow upon the bare ask-
ing of a question that might serve to
snake common the actual remembrance
of him.
To -day, as Scrape comes up the lawn
to meet her, as she bends over the
bright children o also sun," a sense
of gladness that he is coming fills her.
She feels 110 nervousness or weariness
,with him, only rest and peace, and
something that is deeper still, though
yet vague and absolutely unknown to
her own heart.
She goes forward to meet him, a
smile upon tier lips, treading lightly
on the young grass, that,is emerald int
hue,—as the color of my own dear land,
—and through which
"The meek daisies show
Their breasts of satin snow,
Bedecked with tiny stars of gold mid
perfume sighs."
"You again?" she says, with a lovely
smile. lie was here only yesterday.
"What an uncivil speech! Do 1 come
too often?" Ile las her hand in his,
and is holding it inquiringly, but it
is such a soft and kind inquiry.
"Not half often enough," sbe says,
and hardly knows why his face flusbes
at her words, being still ignorant of
the fact that he loves her with a love
that passelh the love of most.
"Well, you she'e't have to complain
,of that any longer," he says, gayly.
"Shall I take up nay residence here?"
Do," says Miss Peyton, also in jest.
would much rather you took up
yours at Scrope;' he says, unthinkingly,
and then he flushes again, and then
silence falls between them.
ller foot is tapping the sward light-
ly, yet nervously. Her eyes are on the
"dilates pied." Presently, as though
some inner feeling compels her to it,
she says—
"Why do you never speak to me of
—Hexane
You forbade me," be says: "how
could t disobey you? He is well,
however, but, 1 think, not altogeth-
er happy. le his last letter to me
Tae stili spoke remorsefully of—her." It
is agony to him to say this, yet he does
it bravely, knowing it will be the wiset
thing for the woman he himself loves.
Yes," she says, quite calmly. At
this instant she knows her love for
Horace Branscombe is quite dead. "Her
death was terrible."
"Yet easy, I dare say, Disease of
the heart, when it carries one off, 1., sel-
dom painful. Clarissa, this 1, the very
first time you have spoken of her, el -
"Is at?" She turns away from bim,
and, catching a branch, takes from at
a leaf or two. "You have not spoken
to me," she says.
"Because, as I said, you forbade me.
Don't you know your word to me is
law?"
1 don't think I know much," says
Miss Peyton, with a sad smile; but she
lets her band lie in his. and sloes not
turn away trom him. "Horace is iu Cey-
lon," she says, presently.
Yes, and doing very well. Do you
often think 01 him now?"
"Very erten. 1 am gladhe is get-
ting on successfully.
Have you forgotten nothing, Claris-
sa?"
"I have forgotten a great. deal. Howl
could it be otherwise? I have for-
gotten that I ever loved any one. 1t
seems to me now impossible t hat I could
hale felt all that I d,id two months
sago. Yet something lingers with mo
—something 1 cannot explain," She
itesathids her
white e fnof which are
twining and intertwining nervously,
'Doyon mean you have ceased to
think of Horace in the light of a lov-
er?" he asks, with an effort certainly,
yet with deterzateation. He will hear
the truth now or never..
!'Wbatl wouldst thou have a ser-
Pent Stingthee twice?' •elle says, turning
re him With some'passlon; and tthee her
anger fades, and her eyes 1:1ll with ears,
'41 you can apply such a word to
ilia, your love, Meat be indeed dead,
lie stays" 11 a onriwus time, and, rai5rng
one of lien' bands, he lays it %pen hue
`l'swish it had never been born," She
tiara, with a sigh, not looking at 4101.
But it is dead?" persists he, eagerly,
"Quito. I buried it that day yell
took me -•to his—roams; you Aemem-
bor?" •
flow could 1 forget? Clarissa, if you
are unhappy, so am 1, Take pity upon
and," •
"You unhappy?" She lifts her eyes to
his.
" Pres, All my life I have loved you.
Is your heart beyond my reaoh?"
Sue makes hint no answer. f a life
"Without you I live but hal
he goes on, entreatingly. "Every hour
is filled with thoughts of you. I have
0o interests apart from you, Clarissa,
if there is any hope for lie,
speak; say something."
would not his memory be a shad-
ow between es always?" whispers she,
In trembling accents, "Forgiveness is
within our power, forgetfulness, is be-
yond usl Jim, is this thing wise that
you are doing? Have you thought over
It?' re than
"I have thought of it for more
a long year," says Sir James. "I think
all my life, unconsciously, I have
loved you.
For'so long?" she says, softly; and
then, "Flow faithful you have beenl"
"When change itself can give no
more,
'Tis easy to be true,"
quotes he, tenderly; and then she goon
nearer to him,—tears in her eyes.
"You are too good for me," she says.
"Darling,'says Scrope, and after that,
somehow, it seems but a little thing
that has arms should close round her,
and that tier head should lie content-
ed upon his shoulder.
CHAPTER XXXVIII,
"There is no life on earth but being
in love!"
Ben. Johnson.
"Love framed with Mirth a gay fan-
tastic round;
Loose were her tresses seen, her
zone unbound;
Ana be, amidst his frolic play,
As if he would the charming air
repay,
Shook thousand odors from his
dewy wing." Collins.
It is the afternoon of the sante day,
and Dorian, with a keeper behind him,
is trudging through the woods of
Hythe, two trusty setters at bis heels.
He cannot be said to be altogether un-
happy, because he has had a real good
day with his gun, as his bag can test-
ify, and, be a man never so disturb-
ed by conflicting emotions, be he five
fathoms deep in a bopeless attach-
ment, still he will tramp through his
heather, or ride to hounds, or smoke his
favorite cigars, with the best, and find,
indeed,p Leasure therein. For, truly,—
"Man's love is of man's lifea thing
apart;
tTis women's whole existence."
The sun is sinking to rest; the chill
i
of a spring evening is n the air. Dis-
missing the man who holds the bag, he
sends him home to the house by a near-
er route, and, lighting a fresh cigar,
follows the path that leads through the
fragrant wood into the grounds of Sar -
tons. The breath of the bluebells is
already scenting the air; the ferns aro
growing thick and strong. Ile has
come ton turn, that is all formed of
rock, and is somewhat abrupt, because
of the snarp angle that belongs to it,
over which hart's tongues and other
graceful weeds fall lazily, when, at a
little distance from him, he sees Geor
gee sitting on the fallen trunk of a tree,
her head leaning against an oak, her
whole expression full of deep dejection.
As he comes nearer to her, he can see
that she has been crying, and that even
now two tears are lying heavily up-
on her cheeks.
A troubled expression crosses his face.
She looks so childish, so helpless, with
her not uponthe ground beside her, and
her hands lying listlessly upon her Jap,
and no one near to comfort her or to
kiss the melancholy from her large
=minuet eyes.
As she hears him coming, she starts
to her feet, and, turning aside, hastily
dries the (.ears upon her cheeks, lest he
shall mark her agitation.
"What is the matter with you?" asks
he, with quick but suppressed concern.
Nothing," returns she, in a low tone.
"You can't be crying for nothing,"
says Dorian; "and even your voice es
full of tears! Are you unhap-
py about anything?"
"What a question to ask mei" says
Mrs. Branscombe, reproachfully, with a
fresh irrepressible sob, that goes to his
heart. Ile shifts his gun uneasily from
one shoulder to the other, hardly know-
ing what to say. is Lt his fault that
she is so miserable? Must he blame
himself because she has found it impos-
saLe to love bion?
"1 beg your pardon," he says, in a
low tone. "O1 course I Have no right
to ask you any questions."
"Yet 1 would answer you if I knew
how," returns she, in a voice as sub-
dued as his own.
The evening is falling silently, yet
swiftly, throwing "tier dusky veil o'er
nature's face." A certain chill comes
from the hills and damps the twilight
air.
ft is getting late," says Branscombe,
gently. "Will you come home with me?"
"Yes, I will go home," she says, with
a little troubled submissive sigh, and,
turning, goes with him down Lhe nar-
row pathway that leads to Lhe avenue.
Above them the branches struggle and
wage a goblin war with each other,
helped by the night wind, which even
now is raising with sullen purpose in
its moan.
Dorian strides on silently, sad at
heart, and very hopeless, Ile is making
a vigorous effort to crush down all re-
greLlul memories, and is foreleg himself
to try end think with gladness of the
Lime, now fast approaching, w•hon ho
shall be once more ported from her who
walks beside hirer with bent head and
qu.vering lips. His presence iso grief
to her. All these past weeks have
proved this to ham; her lips novo been
devoid of smiles; her eyes bave lost
their light, her voice its old gay ring.
When he is gone, she may, perhaps, re-
cover some of the gayety that once was
hers. And, once gone, why should he
ever return? And --
And tnen—then) A little bare cold
hand creeps into the one of his that is
Banging loosely by his side, and, bust-
ling 1n it, presses it with ner-
vous warmth. .
llorlan's heart beats madly. Ile hard-
ly dares believe it true that she should,
of her own accord, have given her band
to him; yet he holds it so closely in his
own that his haspp almost hurts her,
They do not speak; they do not tura
even to look at each other, but go on
their way, silent, uncertain, but no
10ngilr apar'1.' ily that one to der
loueb they beve been united.
'You are going 2breed ageing" alae
says, lea a, 'tong so lore plat he
can scarcely hear Tier,
"10105 going," he sltya, and then their
fingers meet ageui and press 82411
other potty.
Coming to the et•i1e that leads into
the nextath, he lays down his gun,
and mo%Ming the steps, holds put his
hand to irelp,ber t0ain the top.
:Chen, springing down to the other
side, be takes her 4.01 iia arms to bring
bar to the ground beside hire,
But Wben bis arms have olosod round
her be leaves them there, and draws her
to hes heart, and lays itis cheek against
here, With a little Solt happy Sob
she lifts her arms and lays them;round
his nook; Anil then, he tells himself,
there is nothing more on earth
to be wished for, '
"Alyi
wifel--my darling!" lie says,.
['tead
he Minuutes pass; then she looks up
at him with soft speaking eyes. There
are no tears upon her cheeks, but her
face .s pale as moonlight, and on it is
a new deep meaning that Donlan has
never seen there ,n all his life before,.
—a gentle light, as kind as death, and
as soft as holy level
As she so stands, gazing solemnly in-
to his face, with all her heart :in her
eyes, Dorian stoops and lays his 1L )s
on hers. She colors a lovely tremb-
ling crimson, And then returns
the caress.
"You do love me at last?" he says.
.And then she says,—
I do, with all Any soul,"—in a tone
not to be mistaken. Afterward, "Ara
you happy now?"
(To lel Continued.)
EVILS OF OVERSTUDY.
An Estimpte or 1100. 1114 Wain 7i Babies
By Stupid Pedantry.
In June, 1894, a b eautiful young wo-
man was removed from one of the New
England colleges and placed in an asy-
lum for the insane. She had been un-
well for some months, owing to over
study and insufficient sleep; but her
aberration of mind was directly brought
about by her failure to pass the ex-
amination an philosophy at the end of
the term.
Being a friend of the family, I visited
her soon after her incarceration. I
was struck with the change that a few
short years of study had made in the
girl. She was sitting near the win-
dow, apparently reading, when I ap-
peared at the door of her apartment.
She looked up, but evidently did not
recognize me, and after eyeing tee
suspiciously for a few moments, Fuse
and began to pace the room, laughing
at intervals that peculiar mirthless
laugh which cnaractenzes the insane.
Finally, with a, shudder, she ap-
proached me, "So you aro another tor-
mentor," she said. 'How did you know
I failed in that wretched examination ?
I tell you, I did not fell. I only for-
got the words—just the words. I can
say them all now. They're from Kant.
Listen: "The teleology of nature is
made to rest on a transcendental thee -
elegy which takes the ideal of supreme
ontological perfection as a principle of
systematic unity, a principle which—
which—oh, how my head aches. Do
you know, I worked that problem all
right. It took me all night, but I soly-
ed it; and when I lay down in the
morning I thought that • very triangle
was in my head, with the apex piercing
my forehead. That must have been
the beginning; but I am not insane—
only studying, studying, studying. I
hear people say so much study is of
no use, but I only laugh at them. the
idiots,' I say, give me knowledge—
keowledge. I adore learning. I wor-
ship education," (Here she flung her
sett upon the 'bed and fairly hugged and
kissed two volumes which happened to
be lying there. These proved to be
a Hebrew grammar and a work on
differential calculus.) "When I ,vas a
child," she continued, 'I rebelled
against the good that was in books. I`
loved the air and sunshine. I hated
the school room. The sight of my
playmates sitting silent and motion-
less oppressed me. Then I was a stu-
pid animal. Now I am, an intellectual
soul. Oh, heavens! How happy I,
am." (She raised her eyes with an ex-
pression of ecstasy) "What care I
for the things pf this world." she went
on, I study for eternity. I can speak
fourteen languages. 1 will be (rod's
interpreter. He has promised me that
position when z go to Heaven. I will
be God's favorite child, for was I not
always first in my olass—did I say al-
ways? 011, that examination." (At
this point she sank to the floor, and I
could stand the strain no longer.)
I walked slowly out of the building,
saying to myself: "Idolatry is not dead
in this nineteenth century. Learning
is doubtless of inestimable value when
rightly applied; but the belief, which
so many hold, that there is embodied
in a set of collage t ext books that
which is intrinsically and necessarily
good is mere fetichism."
THE OLD LADIES.
This is a perfectly true story, and has
never before been in print; but, as show-
ing the true kindness of the Queen, we
are sure many of our readers wilt ap-
preciate it.
Her Majesty is very fond of matters
artistic, and particularly keeps a warm
corner in her heart for the theatrical
profession, as the many "commands" to
Windsor testify.
A short time ago she summoned the
veteran Mrs. Keeley to Buckingham
Palace, not that she might act, but for
a good chat; and the old. lady, who was
00 the other day, and, as all the world
knows, received an immense ovation
from the stage of the Lyceum Theatre,
in London, obeyed her sovereigu's be-
hest.
Upon entering the Queen's presence,
Mrs. Beeley, according to court etlnu-
ette,should have curtseyed to the ground,
but, even so sprightly and loyal a young
lady as she ua Lound herself unable to
do so,
Doing her best, therefore, she ventur-
ed to excuse hermit 1,0 the Queen with
those words:
I cannot curtsy, Your Majesty!"
"Neither can I, Mrs, Beeley," was the
fleece's quick response, and then the
two elderly ladles sat down to talk aver
old times and old performances, in all
of wha011 the Queen took an immense
interest, plying the aged actress with
questions, and thoroughly enjoying the
,shat.
OWNED UP.
Gibbons—As I wasoing down the
aisle the sprawling idiot put his feet
out so far that I couldnt help treading
on them.
Kelly—What did he do?
Gibbons—fie acknowledged the corn,
THE FARM.
VA) CT,E OF CLO'VPldilr FOR 11AGGi
"We heard. a Man claim that \vii ae3he'
0001ed get l,0 cents fou bt,71soab at thtl
0leva1045 41.40 n111os away, lin fed hie
wheat to 1113 liege and it netted barn,
$1.20 per Mesbe1. i'Y'14w Asked if ilia
bogs wore fed onythlrag but wheal, lie
said yesi they had the ran, of the olov-
or field all sumt%er and 141, S1'e rage
geasted that be ot.tght to credit a largo'
Pert or their growtbto the deem.. fust
hots motet it is diffieuit to say," qu01
es 111,'. Bonham, In Ohio 1i•arinel',
"From a conrparason of a, large new••
ber of eoientifie testa, Coburn conduct-
ed 'that an acre Of cloven' is worth for
pork making as mach as three and one..
half acres sr average wheat,almost as
much as one and one halt acres of good
corn, and nearly as much as two and
one -halt acres of good oils,'
"Since it costs mueb less to produce•
an acre of 410104, and Shale the clover
stores in the roots alone about 1118
worth of fertilizing material, as esti,.
mated by Professor Roberts, et Cornell,
we are impressed with the great value
of clover, not only for pork, but for
land improvement. Hogs that are
grown on corn, wheat, barley, or oats,
or mill feed, or a mixture of these,. be
it compounded most skilfully, fallto
develop the stomach papa0aty which
makes it possible for them to assimi-
late the greatest amount of food. Grain -
fed hogs have too small stomachs to
do as well on clover or grass, or any
green feed, as will hogs that from the
time of weaning or before, have been
allowed, to run to ()lover or grass when
fad on grain or mill feed. We can do
much to (torrent this want of green
feed by having ground feed mixed. into
the slop, and distend the stomach in
this 'way. The "stomach is the Organ•
of
never limit the feedtorich, eon
centrated foods lacking bulk. Colleen-
trated foods are not only more expen-
sive, but less wholesome„ and more
liable to produce indigestion or loss of
appetite, which weans loss of time and
loss of growth. We would not have the
beginner run to the extreme of trying
to grow pigs on clover or grass alone,
It can Lie done,but it takes more thus
and can be done more successfully by
a judicious and even a liberal use of
corn and mill feed if along with these
the pigs have a run to clover or gra.
After piss
gs are five or six months old,
and have not been confined to grain
food wholly, they will make good
growth on clover from May to July,
but as soon as clover begins to get
woody it is good policy to begirt to feed
daily a slop made from middlings and
bran, or ground oats, and cob meal,
or ground feed that the farm produces.
By the time the corn is out of the milk
stage the pigs will be ready to tackle
the corn. It should be cut up and fed,
stalk and ear, on the clover field, un-
til the ears are hard and stalks so dry
they are not eaten. By this Lime we
keep up a profitable combination of
grain and succulent bulky food as the
clover dries up. The clover field is the
most economical feed lot in the fall of
the year that can be devised. It not
only absorbs and appropriates the am-
monia, but the liquids of the droppings
after rams, and after the August or
September rains the new growth offers
an acceptable and profitable variety to
the hogs, along with the ears of corn.
"Hogs fed in this way will make har-
monious growth of bone, muscle and
fat, and with the pure air, sunshine
and exercise, they have the healthy or-
gans that are essential to a thrifty,
profitable herd. We have confined our
;Lk -marks mainly to the value of clover
for hogs. 1t is a little too late in the
season to discuss the seeding. We have.
aimed to open up the subjoot so as at -
attract attent100 to clover rather than
to discuss Lt on the lines suggested by
the correspondent."
DAIRY NOTES.
Successful management of the calf lies
at the very foundation of stock rais-
ing, and there must be no slack in at-
tention or watchfulness. Scouring, the
bans of cats -rearing, indicates indiges-
tion, and results from overfeeding, ir-
regular feeding, giving food too cold,
or permitting the young animal to get
chilled or wet.
The fact that cows in winter are milk-
ed In close, unventilated stables is one
reason why so much of the winter -made
butter Ls poor to begin tvith and so
quickly spoils. While milking, if some
loose. eartn or coal ashes be thrown over
the frosiuy voided solid or liquid ex-
crement, share would be less of what
is called animal odor in the butter.
We feed oar butter cows with rich
foods that they may return them to
us with good profits, but this is a great
tax upon their systems and many break
down after a few years of such Leediug,
and must be replaced. They may make
wonderful records, but can they give
that vigor to their progeny which twill
matte of them good mak. producers?
Plants, human beings, and animals
need sunlight, fresh air and exercise to
keep theta in proper health; if denied,
weataiess [allows.. 'There is a tendency
to coddle our cows too mach, to blanket
them, and to 'heat their stables, and
even to tethering them while at pas-
ture. Much of this is a mistake and
is not called fur, even for the high ends
for width we aim.
Fall calves subsist largely upon milk,
and take but little room in the :had,
an there. is mare time in the whistle
to give thele attention. They will be
ready far the spring pastures and make
good progress from the start and en-
ter the tarn an the fall again to get
full benaflt of solid rations there pro-
vided for them.
Spring calves are incapable of receiv-
ing much benefit from grass the first
season, because for some Lima after
birth tate ruminating stomach is unde-
veloped, and, between summer heat and
the peetlterous flies, the thin skinned
creature las a sorry time of it, but un-
der natural conditions most of them
cornu. in the spring.
In the dairy the calf should be tak-
en away from the wether not later than
the third day and he given full milk
for two weeks; and this may lie,grad-
ttally weakened. with skim milk until
to two weeks more only the latter is
fed it. But Jersey milk seems some -
antra too rich for the calf, full strength
causing indigestion.
Skimmed milk contains all the ele-
ments or Cull milk but the fat, and that
can be made rip in a m8051000 with
cheaper substances, The best of these
probably ss flax seed, tvhiuh should be
bested oath redtl40d to a jelly and a'
smell'' querptily' 81184ed into the make
at ratite faeda alt meal la' cheaper, mor'.e'
eaeliiy abtainod, Aad lines nearly .us
1w011,
Good food merely eiaabaes the de.
s'eiopreent of the posslbilltiee of the
"pliantly but never p.'odeces a ()lump
in form or olaarsieteristdes. The good
daisy 4014 is alesteys a ureation from
good r breeding, a cempottne. of the high
quel1tles willell are the governing erne,
allMfes in aueeeesfu1 dairying, except,
Visa a sending apple, she turns out to
be ern:40 ltingr good "by chance,"
DRAGGED TQ DEATH 13Y A 110118E,
llal'bareas. l'Iultsbmriit ,tseal'llell n Freewill
Cavalryman In Melva by Ills t'OWael
lira 74'illlttg olrenee. •
The murder of a French cavalry -map
named C'heyino! by his superior officers
in Melee. brings' out a story that re-
waud5 0150 o1 the ei,,hteeeth century
practices, In the navy.
Official reports• sent to France told
01 Cheymo.l's death, but gave no par,
titulars, Queer rumors, however, found
their way to Paris, and but a short
time shwa the dead mar's brother inado
an interpellation to the Chamber of
Deputies and demanded an investiga-
tion.
The result was that the whom thing
leaked out. .A. dark blot stains the mil-
itary repute of France. Reit is remov-
ed the .foreign Legion will doubtless
have a new.eolonel before 1004.
This Cheymol, it appears, was found
guilty of a minor breach of discipline.
On the African station commanding of-
ficers are not bound strictly by the
regulations of the service. They have
introduced punishments according to
their own ideas. One o1 these is the
" Mazeppa ride," and Cheymol was sen-
tenced to it.
An unshod stallion was brought' into
a ring, as was the prisoner. They
stripped the man and tied his hands.
With a strap they fastened bis bound
hands to the stallion's tail.
The sentence read "to be dragged
three times " round the ring, The col.-
onel of the Legion, who was present
with kis staff, gave the word and the
fierce horse was loosed, He immedi-
ately began to lash out and plunge. but
with whips they, got him started.
Terrified at being unable to free him-
self from the thing on his tail, he
dashed off frantic.
Before the third circuit Cheymol was
insensible and covered with blood. The
horse wore neither halter nor bridle
and lb took a long while to catch him..
When they did he was dragging a
corpse. Both officers and men took this
as a .matter of course.
French officers are not usually inhu-
mane to their men, and the barbarous
practices disclosed in the Foreign Le-
mon force the conclusion that the
rough life on the African station has
brutalized them.
1.1 the Cheymol episode were not
vouched for by the semi-official notice
which has already been taken of it the
story would seem almost incredible.
Perhaps the worst part of it is that
the execution of the sentence should be
looked upon rather as an entertain-
ment.
IL is said that not only do the offi-
cers of the peat attend these " Mazep-
pa rides," as idle spectators, but that
women, too, are often present. The
spectacle is treated like a bull -fight.
This inhuman punishment is not the
only matter which needs the attention
of the French War Minister. Flogging
of the severest kind is ordered for the
most trifling offenses.
The effect, of course, is demoralizing
alike on men and officers. The men it
cows; the officers it brutalizes. Neither
rank nor file of such sort are very ef-
fective.
HE GAVE HIS LIFE.
An lheldenl intim Life el' a Railroad En-
gineer.
The author of "Tales of an Engineer"
pays a tribute to the memory et a man
of his own craft who stuck to bis en-
gine, kuowing that his death alone
could lessen the danger of those in his
charge.
The train had crossed a bridge and
was approaching a tunnel, which being
on the shadow• side of the hill, looked
like a great hole in the night. Nearer
the engine the engineer sate a number
of dark objects scattered about. In
another second he discerned what these
were, and realized an awful danger.
As he reversed the engine and applied
the air -brakes he shouted to the fire-
man to jump. He might have jumped
himself, for he sate the danger first;
but no such thought came to him. In
another second the pilot was plowing
through a herd of cattle asleep on the
track.
If they had all been standing, be
would have opened the throttle and
sent them flying into the river, with
less risk to his train.
But they were lying down ; and as
they rolled under the wheels they lift-
ed the great engine from the rails and
threw her down the dump at the very
edge of the river.
But so well had the faithful engineer
performed his work that the train was
stopped without wrecking a car. Many
of the passengers were not awakened.
The trainmen cam forward e e f Iva d and
found the engineer. He was able to
speak to thsm. He knew that he had
but a few minutes to live, and left a
loving message for his wife. Then,
as if he had nothing more to say or dc,
he closed his eyes, folded his hands
over bas brave heart, and without a
murmur, apparently without pain,
died.
•
THE CAMPHOR TREE.
The camphor tree of China and japan
is a large evergreen, not unlike a lin-
den, with a walls flower and red ber-
ry. The sum iS taken from chips out
of the root or base, which yield 5 quer
cent, or more of it. Tlie Japanese Gov-
ernment owns large forests of ram-
phor trees, able to seep up the average
supply of the gum for 25 years, and
young plantations are growing up,
These are under the Japanese Forestry
Department. Hitherto the gum has only
been taken from trees 70 to 80 years
old, but it 1s proposed to operate on
younger ones ie the future.
PHOTOGRAPHING A CANNON BALL.
The latest use of photography is to
make a cannon hall take a picture of
its own wohbtings. An arrangement
something like a camera is to be placed,
in the forward end of the projectile,
and when it is tired directly at the sun
the light traces lines upon the plate,
from the direction of which it can be
told whether the projectile has kept in
one position or has waved to and fro
during its flight
11ER ,•AND, THERA',
A' lev' Fuente Atilt Allay He of Altleresl1.' t4'
reit,
Coldwater,• Mahe bee a preetl0an4.
Ltilysiolen who le 00 Pare* old'« He is
lit, Wm. Sprague,
111 .Pond street, London there' le a
barber shop where, d1gs .are shaved
washed, and frszzedi
Ziig]btllg en ered a hoose near Ore
tinge, 11.., 0 h o the'fanilly was at sup.
91.11' 131.111 inetanLly kilted a fanner and lee
two Sone.
A petrified whale,, eighty feet
length, baa been found an,the hills ,neat'
Lompco, Santa Barbaro, 0a1., a dozen
miles from the sea.
Ostrich races are frequently w1tneee-
ed on all ostrich farnr•in.Analreim, OM.
The owner trains tiro birds to dr'ave in.
single,double, sad tandem;' harness:
A genuine dianrond, when photograph -
ad by the X-rays, casts no shadow on the
picture; the imitation diamond, when:
Liras treated, oasts a deep black blot.
Mrs. Luke Fish, of Anderson, Mich.,
has been married only five years, yet
she is the mother of 014bt children --
four sets 01 twills—all of whomare in.
good health,
The pelt of it white sea -otter is worth.
about §5,000, One of these animals was
Lately seen in the bay of Santa Cruz,
Cal., by two fishermen, and pursued, but
the fugitive escaped.
The littlest married couple in 10(iene
are Mr. and Mrs. Frank Shade, of 'Ken-
dallville. Shp is just three feet high,
and he is halt an inch Abetter. Both
are over fifty years of age,
In Queensland, Australia, there are
sections of land hundreds of miles in ex-
tent which have been devastated by rah -
bits. The ground is white with the bones
of dead rabbits,
Mrs. Marcus Roberta was born in Dor-
set, Vt., over ninety-six years ago. She•
recently died in the house in which she
was born, and in which she continually.
lived during all her long existence.
The four burglars who rebently rob-
bed the savings bank at Whitinsvlile,
Mass., had such a high regard for the
rules of fashion that they committed
the crime after they bad just arrayed
themselves in dress suits.
Some of the postmen in London each
receive as much as 11125 in. Chistmas
gifts, frompeoplewhom they serve with
letters. When the post -office officials
learn of these tips, the amount is deduc-
ted from the postmen's salaries.
The vitascope, Edison's latest inven-
tion, is er enlarged and perfected ltine-
toscope. By its aid a number. of per-
sons can view an operatic or theatrical
Imre ./ mance on a screan, behold the
a;iors anis distinctly hear the nerform-
ers.
A fisherman at Ellsworth, Me., re-
cently captured three fish on one hook.
The risk caught on the hook was a big:
pickerel. hWVLle dressing this, another
pickerel was found in its stomach. le
the second pickerel was a five inch
smelt,
To have a laugh at his wife, John.
Ahrens, a farmer, of Kingman Coun-
ty, Kansas, disguised himself asa mask.
-•
ed trampp,� and advanced to his own door.
Wben Mrs. Ahrens appeared, he rudely.
demanded lunch, and the w011100 was.
so terrified that she dropped dead..
A hen belonging to John Wilson, of
Benton Harbor, Mich., found a gold
scarf pin, and unwisely used, it for an:
interior decoration. The fowl died, and
Mr. Wilson has advertised for the own-
er of the pin, saying he'oan have his.
jewlery if he pays for the dead hen.
Eighteen gold Watches were found
quilted in the clothing worn by a baby1
passenger on the steamer Scale, from
Bremen, oo her arrival at Hoboken. The
baby's parents were arrested, and on.
the father twelve other watches were
found. The thirty watohes are worth
117,000.
A Liverpool chinmey sweep, while -
cleaning art oven flue, found £40 in coin
in a bag. When he told the lady of
the house of his discovery, she fainted.
She herself had placed the money there
years before, but, forgetting the faote,.
had aorused her son of stealing it. He
had indignantly deserted his home, and
had never returned.
. Hypnotism was tried on a trio will-
ing fool in Lyons, France. Ho w•asput
in a trance, and buried in a hole eight
feet deep, with a tube from his mouth,.
through which he could breathe. He
was to remain thus buried for a week.
At the end of three days he was tan -
earthed, and was so weak that it was
thought be would die,
GREAT MEAT WEAR ARMOUR.
Several Prominent European Sialeeinen
Enlplos Slink Sategnardd.
From 1885 to the time of his death,
the late Czar of Russia, Alexander III.,
never appeared outside 1115 bedroom and
study without a fine steel suit of mail,
which would protect his body, bank
and front, between his collar -bone and
his loins, from the dagger of the as-
sassin. Excepting his valet and his.
18114, nobody has scan his suit of mail,
as it was worn between the under-
clothes and uniform, but the Czar's un-
willingness to go even to a Cabinet
Council without it was an open secret
in all the Courts of Europe.
Bismarck at one time wore such e
coat as did Elsa Stamboulotf and CrispL,.
The Italian Premier, indeed still wears,
for protection from the assassin's bul-
let or knife, a light shirt of mail of
double thickness over the heart. None
of these men, however, resorted to such
precaution until repeated attempts at
assassination had been made. True it
it that "uneasy lies the head that
wears a crawls."
Nicholas II. of Russia has waited for
no such attempt on his life. Ever since
the last arrest of Nihilists students at
Odessa, ho has worn a shirt of nickel
and steel, onerous as the garment must
be to a man of hie inferior physique
and lethargic habits. Still stranger
stories of his fear and caution have
penetrated the walls of the Imperial
palace and gained credence among the
people of his capital. Altbdu h no
dagger has been laid on his pillow he
unnerve him, and no warning of death
has been put under his diener plate
to plague him, the Czar never visits his
dinner table or bed without the com-
pany of a trusted attendant. At every
door of the dining room and bed cham-
ber stands a Cossack gward day and
night, and from every dish that issorv-
ed at the Imperial table a speoial
wntaher in the Court kitchen must eat
a mouthful before 11 is served, to pre-
vent any chance of poisoning.
The houseofDavid Stohl, of Kingman
Country, lianas, was on fire. A neigh-
bor, George Austin, was viewing the
burningbuilding, when the heat caus-
ed a ouble-barreled gun in the house
to let discharged, and the. contents en-
tered Austin's }road and body, ,