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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1893-6-16, Page 2HIS HEIRESS; OE,, LOVE TE ALIT AYE THE SAME. CHAPTER XVI, Mrs. Billy is still laughing over May's eevelation of Peter, ' Poor Peter," she is saying, " what a ehamo to betray him ! He certainly doe say funny thinge at times." "Not so funny as Dick," breaks in Blauohe, airily. " He told us about you be- fore yyoe oame. But 1 don't think he could have known, bemuse what he said wasn't 0. Mt like you." " What did he say ? Was it too flatter. ing a picture he drew?" asks Wilhelmina. "Blanche 1" calla out Dick, " Go fetch mo my fishing -rod from your den, mrd F11 go and get you some trout for your break. feet te-Inorrow," "Not until you have given me Diok's portrait of me, drawn from his inner eon- seioesness," says Mrs, Daryl, mischievous. • Ly. " Now begin—I was—" "Tall—vary--very big," nods the child, itoletnn1y, "And you are quite little, after all. He said, too, thab you would be a dreadful wortlan—a sort of an Orson l and that you would—' Blanche 1" In an agony front Dick. "You would hate little girls like me and May, and go about the farm all day in top. boots and leggings. You wouldn't like leggings, would you now ?" "No, no," assents Mrs. Billy. "And he said you would alwaye carry a Dart -whip with you, to strike the farm peo. pie with, just like Legree, and Sambo, and Jumbo—reo'leet ?" "Perfectly, Oh, Diek 1 and so that was what you thought of me. Say, Billy I" ac. vesting lir. Daryl, who has suddenly ale. peered in the doorway ; a fetal -tie' descrip• ' tion wasn't it?" "i'd have known it anywhere," ens Daryl, who is now shaking hands with and welcoming Tommy. "Staying with Muriel, :le?" he asks. "Pin tell you something," says Blanche, "Muriel isn't a bit like the real of us. Is she now!" When she gets in a rage—" "Which is about once in a blue moon," ' interposes Angelica, • " She never stamps, or fumes, or boxes people's ears as Meg does—" " As anybody would," corrects Blanche. "she only stands straight up like this"— drawing up her little fat body into an ab- surd attempt at dignity--" and opens her eyes wide like this, and fastens up her fin- ers, so ! It is terrifying, I can tell you. We never vexed Muriel if we could help our• selves. "Muriel was clever, it seems to me," ex. exclaims Mrs. Billy. "I wish you to un- derstand, Billy, that now, at last, I kuow the way to manage you. The wisdom of babes is astounding. When next you give • me a bad time I shall be terrifying, Blanche has just shown me how I shall draw myself mp, 80," throwing herself into a pretty but exaggerated position, "and open my eyes, •so ; and close my fingers upon you, so," giving him a dainty little pinch, "and then you'll be done for in no time 1" She looks so bright, so gay, so defiant, yet so loving withal, that Billy must be forgiven for re- sorting to instant measures for the reducing of her to order. He gives her first a sound shako and then a sound kiss. "And that's whab I'll do?" says he. "Billy 1 what a barbarian you are 1" cries she, blushing hotly at this breach of etiquette, but presently her laugh is the clearest and merriest amongst them. "Pity the ball next Thursday isn't a fancy one," says Angelica, "You could manage to look a part I am sure. As a rule, I am told, the Madame Pavans look like Joan of Aros, and the Marie Stuarts like Serpole tees. That must rather destroy the effect," "What are you going to wear, Meg," asks Tommy Paulyp. "Nothing." " Nothing.' My dear girl consider. We are advanced enough in alt consciences, but —there still is another line 1" "I'm not going,"eays Miss Daryl. "That ie what I mean.' " Not going?" "No. The fact is, I haven't a gown," declares Margery. "Nonsense, Meg," cried Mrs. Daryl, sharply. " course you are going. Why, your gown oame half an hour ago, by the midday train. I'm woolgathering to -day. That is another thing I forgot to tell you. Itis upst—" Bub there is no longer a Margery to ad- dress. Miss Daryl has flown from the room, and presently returns to them with a mystic mass of tulle and lace parried rev- erently between her outstretched arms. "Ah 1 Willie, what cart 1 clay?" whisp- ers she, temps in her soft eyes. "Why, you little pretty goose ! Did you think could enjoy myself without you? It is all selfishness," smiles Wilhelmina. "There is Peter I" cries Margery, pres- ontly, in an excited tone. " He is Doming across the lawn. He must see it, too. She rune to the window and waves her handkcr- ehief with frantic grace. " Peter I Peter! Peter I Pi—i—i—per," calla she, gayly. At last he hears her, and leisurely crosses the lawn lower down, and • comes up to her. " Why on earth can't you harry your. solf 7" cries she. " The day is long and patience is a virtue to be cultivated 1" "Perhaps," ironically, " You think you Slave it," " I know I have it." " Pouff I How men deceive themselves: "'Patience is a virtue, Catch it if ybu can ; It is setdem in a woman, But never, never, r,a-vtcu in a man 1" However, don't mind that, Peter 1 Dome In nett' I show you my new gown that Willie has'given me. Isn't it a beauty 7 A lovely thing 2" " It is indeed a charming dress," said Teter. "Whore is Curzon 7" he asks, presently. "I thought he was here," " certainly Was here a minute or two ago," says Dtak, "Be weht away," says little May, bleed- ly "he was cross with Meg, and I think Ito 'didn't like Willie to give her the pretty now frock, booause the inomenb he saw 11 he went out of the window." '" I think he Waevexed about something," i alio atamntere. "But I don't know what ib teas. "lie is walking up and down the garden," s Menthe.trieMenthe. " lie has kis eyyes,' excited. "gie to the ground.. I'm sure, I'm i r1: e a he is oolcing for oockroeoheo,' S " Looking for a reason for his i11•tempe a Momlike. ," says Margery, a "Go and find him, and have ib out," ears 111' Paulyn, "Why should 14 One Would think it o Was a tooth you were talking aboul," re- wa tarns Mise Daryl, "Go. and have it out qt With him yourself, Ho Was looking deg. gore at you all the time he was in -doors, \\'hat have 1 got to do with hila 7" "" I leave your own innate sense of truth to answer that question, llargoret,'" says Mr. Paulyu, solemnly. "No, you don't," wrathfully, "yon want to answer it 'ourself. It Is a most ex. ttnordinary thing, Tommy, that you will interfere in the aflatre of other people." "It is my opinion that you have had a right -down flare-up with hien," says the Honorable Tommy, unabashed. "Do you really think, after all your experience, that suoh an opinion as yours is of any consequence at alt 7" A regOar shindy, persists Mr. Paulyn, untouched by this scathing remark, " Pahaw !" exolaims she, and stepping through the southern window may be Been presently marching off in the direction of the wood, a route that will convey herfar roe the garden made obnoxious by Mr. Bellew's presence. She is hardly gone upon her solitary journey when the upper window is darken- ed by the incoming form of that moody your man. " Looking for Margery ?" asks Peter, blitheiv. "No. Oh, no," returns Bellew, with a miserable attempt at a lie. " If you are," insists Peter, "y on'll find her in the beech wood," " She has on1yjust gone," puts in Mr. Paulyn. " The trail is still fresh. If you hurry you'll patch it." "I'll patch it, any way," returns Mr. Bellew, darkly, and turns his footsteps in the track of his false love. CHAPTER XVII. It was now close upon noon. In the wood a somber light, sweet and delicate, is playing upon the opening buds and the greening branches. Through the heavy fir - trete the sun is glinting, making warm patches of color upon the mossy sward. The pale dog -violets have all burst out a - flowering, and already the meadows are gay with marguerites, white and yellow. ;tut the finest flower amongst them all is the fair, pensive maiden, with lily -drooping head, who steps between them with a care- less grape, and crossing the brillimt meads enters the cool, dark woods beyond. Perhaps it is eonetimes easier to escape from one's self than from a determined lover. This thought occurs to Margery when she sees Mr. Bellew afar off, plainly in bet pursuit of her. She takes no out. ward heed, however, of the on -Domer, but pursues her way as though his near ap- proach is a thing unknown to her. Now, having arrived at a spot that ap- pears to her to be good for the inevitable interview with Bellew, she takes up a posi- tion so full of melancholy, that the young man, drawing et-ery moment nearer, is al. moat crushed by it. A crackling of the dry leaves beneath his feet gives her the chance of being aware of his presence. "ls no. place safe from you?" she demands in an icy tone. "Am I never to be alone? I wonder after all the cruelty you have shown me, you have the 'hardihood' to ap- preach me.' "I wish I had not said that," says the young man, humbly. "It was an odious word. How could I have used it when speaking to you 1 But—" He looks at her. 'But what ?" imperiouely. "Margery ! think how I saw you first today.' How you saw me? In this old gown 1 To which, if you are nob accustomed, you ought to be. It is a lovely gown, and yon look lovely m it," says Curzon, gloomily. "Bob it Inas nothing to du with it. When I oame in through the window, you were sitting on that fellow's—" Here he steps „short, and then bursts out again—"knee 1" he ones t ehemen sly. "So that ie it?" said Afias Daryl, regard- ing him contemptuously. "Ali tate vile temper you displayed this morning arose out of the fact that 1 sat on Tommy Paulyn's knee!" Alittleirrepressible laughbreaks from her. "You might as well find fault with me for sitting on Billy's or Peter's knee, it would be quite the same thing, I assure you, except that I should prefer Billy ; he wouldn't gig one so. So that's all the ex. ouae you can give for your base conduct? Have you taken leave of your senses?" "No," says Mr. Bellew, "nty senses are with me now, as then. They were all with me when I saw you l.•i..•e hien 1" "Is there anybhing strange in that ? I have kissed bit since I was so high," pointing to about an inch or so from the ground. " You forgot he is an old, old friend." So am I, yet you have never—" "I should think not, indeed. You will be good enough to remember that he is m' cousin." y " One can "Harry a cousin 1" puts in bur. Bellew irrelevantly. "" Well," she says, impatiently, " I'm not going to marry Tommy, if that is what you mean." "If," looking up eagerly, "I could be auto of that 7 Or any one else for that matted Look here 1" he says, gazing straight ab her; " If you are not going to marry him, are you going to marry me? I want to got an answer to that question no x." " Ib is a pity, Curzon," remarks Miss Daryl, "that you will permit yourself soh brusqueness of demeannr. "It is very distressing! Your manner is positively farouche at times; it quite takes one's breath away." "nswer me," says Curzon, obstinately. "Your asking me now suggests to me the possibility that you are very desirous of getting' no' for your answer," replies Miss Daryl. "After your -dreadful behavior of this morning, I wonder you have the 'Mardi—," "Is teat wretched word to be remember- ed forever 7"' interrupts he, "Good Heavens 1 how I wish it had never been, coined. Think how seldom I offend you. and don't follow up this onto sin to les death To my death, 1 verily believe ib will be." "Seldom 7" repeats she, "How little you understand yourself. In my opinion, you aro the most offending man I Itnow," "You are talking non0cneel" eays Bellew, ndignantly. "I am your slave, as all the world knows, It ought"—bitterly—"It oan see daily for itself how abject ie my ubnnisaion. "I don't want& slave!" declares she, "It s very rude of you eo suppose so. Am I a oath American planter? And to'talk of laves 1 1f you called yourself Mrs. Amyot' hadow—tyou would he nearer the marls 1" "Staff!" says Mr. Bellew, more forcibly hen elegantly. "Y'ou don't believe a word 1 that, And if I were in love with her, 11 uld' oniyfesere you righm, We might be tits then, . " Why? I haven't fallen in love With any TI -E BRUSSELS PAST. one in a lioplessll idfotio manner, have I! And as for "serving me right' why, if yo think it would distress me, your fallingitt love with any one, you are iimnoneely mus• taken, and I would advise you to dispel frotn your mind at once all suoh ilhtsioua." " You aro cruel beyond imagination," he soya, slowly, "I hate a heartless wont. ail" "So do I. Tor once we are agreed, That ie why I Dare never to part with mine." "One must possess a thing, to be In a Position to pert with it." "True, 0 King 1" "Have you a heart at all ? " Have you!" "lfilno should answer that pee tion but yon—you who possess it ?" "Pool a' says she, oontemptuously, "you are but a poor reasoner ; a moment ago you doubted my having such an unsatisfactory article, and now you accuse me of having misappropriated yours. How is one to grasp your moaning 7" " Wo are talking nonsense, declares the young man angrily, We shall be quarrel- ing soon." "I never quarrel," declares site, " except with tine boyo; They like it, so I do it with thein out of sheer good nature. Bat other. Wis0—" "Perhaps you think I like it, too?" "I have told you already that I should not dream of quarreling with you ; and as for thinking about you. I never do that." " You are a themeless Coquette !" ex - olefins Mr Bellew. Silence! A terrible oilenoel No woman, if born a etiquette, likes to be called so. Most women who couldn't be oougettish to save their lives, are delighted if you will oall them so. Miss Daryl, belonging to the first plass is hopelessly offended, She turns deliberately away from Curzon, and clasp- ing her hands behind her beak commences an exhaustive survey of the landscape. She almost forgets Curzon now, as her eyes dwell upon it, and unconsciously she sighs audibly. This resigned expression of a hidden grief is misconstrued by her com- panion, and compete him to speech. "I think I am the most unfortunate man on earth," he begins, "I have offended you twice to -day. Her continued silence is more than Mr. Bellew has strength to endure. " Meg 1" he says, in a voioe replete with misery and contrition. " Now once for all !" she declares, " won't be called by that name again. Meg! Itis monstrous t It reminds me of nothing on earth save a goat 1 " Margery, then," meekly. " Certainly not, That is, if possible, worse, Do you think I am without feeling, that you seek to annoy me? I wish I had had the transporting of my godparents." " I will call you by any nano you choose," declares he, submissively. "Margaret, then. There is something respectable about that. No flippancy—no vulgar rhymes are couneeted with it." , I am glad to knoty at least what pleas- es you. Margaret," returns he, evenly, his gene riveted upon the turf at his feet. " You are longing to say something," says Miss Daryl, at last, " Why don't you do it?" "You are right. I want to tell you how gladl am that you have at last made up your mind to go to the county ball." " Willie made it up for mo, you mean. Don't mix matters." "And to -morrow you are going to Sir Mutius Mumnt's afternoon ?" " I suppose so. All the world is to be there, and one should at least patronize one's uncle." Bellew is quite aware that she has not as yet forgiven hint by the little petulant fashion in which she keeps her head turned away and direotod to that grassy rendez. volts that once had been so dear to Muriel. His eyes follow here, and grow a little wider as they rest on a solitary figure—a woman's figure that slowly and wearily en- ters it, and sinks in a dejected attitude upon a mossy throne that decorates its nearest side. It is not long a solitary figure ! Even as they both gaze spell -bound at it, a man steps lightly from the brush- wood outside and advances toward it. There is a suggestion of surprise in the way the first tali, graceful form rises to receive this last Domer, and then Bellew, as if aware that Margery has grown deoidedly pale and that she would gladly believe herself sole witness of this vague scene beneath her, turns abruptly away and concentrates Isis gaze on -the Brankamere turrets. In a very little while, in a moment, as it were, he feels the light touch of her hand upon his arm. She is very white, and her eyes have a strange gleam in them. She has evidently altogether forgotten that there was any disagreement between them, "Take me home Curzon," she says, faintly. "I am tired ; deadly tired," CHAPTER XVIII. Last night was full of tears, but now the sad reign of weeping is at end, and the pas- sionate storm that rated in the dark, small hours has left no trace on the smiling earth, ease the sweet shedding of white blossoms on the garden paths. The tennis-oourts without are thronged with guests ; and Mise Mumm, standing stiff and starch in her drawing -room to re. calve the late arrivals, with her small curls hanging crisply on either aide of her parsed - up mouth, is full of importance, and in a degree, more unapproachable than usual. She is holding forth in her usual dictatorial style to old Lady Primrose about Muriel, who it appears, after alt, has disappointed her expectations in many ways. Old Lady Primrose is feebly entering a protest here and there, and is looking a litble distressed, which is only natural, the person attacked being iter hostess, "She may he good 1" Miss Mumm is say• ing in between her greetings to the wife of the local practitioner and the Honorable Mrs. Hornblower, which differ widely in texture. " She may be ; I'm her aunt and should know. And site may be charming, too, as you say. But I fear she is careless. 1 have noticed may little defects in her ; many leanings towards the frivolous side of life ; tnuoh deaite for riotous living. Yes, she is aimless, I for she won't do," Here Lady Primrose, who is deafer than over to. day, grows very mixed, and begins to think she has gone a good deal wrong in her un- derstanding of Mies Mumm's discourse, and that she is alluding not to her niece, Lady Branitsmere, but to some incompetent upper house•maicl. " You aro alluding to—?" she asks, " Why, to Muriel—lady Brankemero. Can't you follow me ?" ekoute Miss Mumm, " Of course, of course, I hear you. I beg you will not diistroseyourselflike that, One Would think Twits deaf, eays the old lady, irritably. " She has got no stamina," goes on Miss Mumm. "She's all for glow and glitter ; solid worth is of uo account fn her eyes. Tor example, look at the improvements she is organizing up at the castle. She has thrown tt, a few earthworks and telt 'own terraces, '.terraces, forsooth 1 and to memego that site merle that alwaye wits there—even m the days of the old roan's grandfather, I'm told." "50I've heard—so I've hearth 1 Threw up everything, and went oil with Iter in a post. chaise," mumbles Lady Primrose, who is now dreadfully at sea again, "' The aysnuo in itself would tell a tale. I wae driving up there yesterday, and et weeds—positively weeds --;;rowing at the sides of it. I stopped the earrbgo, gob out and counted twenty 1 With me, seeieg is be- lieving. I take nothing on hearsay, but -I oounted those weeds with my own eyes. Now, weeds are as 'melting opt -venue, and like them, should be eradicated," " Quite right, quite right. Have no sympathy with radicals myself ; oan'tendure em," duavere the older woman. " \V by should woods be found upon her avenue et all ?" continues :l"fse ,Mumm. " Of course, if one's eervante are not looked after, whet can you expect ? If I had forty —as I believe that silly young woman really has—I should keep my eye on every one of them. They will do nothing, I have learn- ed from sad experience, unless the mistress is after their tails morning, noon and nighb. No w, weeds they will take no trouble about. Off they whisk the heads, leaving tate roots behind them, whereas if one hopes to keep their plane decent, they must be got out of the ground root and branch." " Ay, ay I Root 'em out—root em out 1" gabbles the old lady, with senile enthusi- asm. "Lord Foosil thinks with you, They shouldn't be allowed to live," with a wild cackle. " That's what he eays, ouok, ouok," "Eh?" says Mies A7umm, " They shouldn't have a vote if ho had his way. It's monstrous how they're spread. ing. Country's going to perdition. That's e at he says. Clever fellow, Foozil ? Eh 7 " ?shalt- 1" exclaims Mies Mumin, indig- nantly, turning on her heel and leaving the old lady. Outside, the gardens—being in unison with the furniture within—me simply exquisite. The pleasaunce is crowded with gay groups dotted here and there. Through the open windows beyond the wall of rhodo- dendrons come snatches of Mozart and Dussek. From further still the laughter of the tennis -players, and the triumphant Dry that tells of a game won. Mrs. Amyot, in a gown of sap -green, is lounging leisurely .ou a low garden ohair, and is holding her court gayly. A little further on Lady Brankamere, in a marvelous costume of Venetian red, looks like a spot of blood in the assembly, whilst Angelina, leaning on the back of Iter ohair, in a little white nun -like frock, and with a rapt expression on her face, makes a charming contrast. " Who is the old man over there 7" asks Lord PtImrose, presently. Margery, who overhears hint, laughs. "Hush I Matins Mumm is the word for him," she whispers, mischievously. " What a name I" says Primrose. "So that is really your uncle? You do him credit, let me tell you, and I should think he wants all he can get. What's the mat- ter with his head? He doesn't belong to any particular order, does he 7" "That bald spot was a thing full of in. terest to us for years," says Margery, gay- ly ayly " We used to make baby bets about it. And every year it grew carefully big- ger and bigger! Such an old head ss he has ! First we axed to compare his patch to a threepenny bit, then ae it in. creased with our years and his, a fourponny Then it became a sixpence, then a shilling. then a florin, and then, all at once, as it were: it changed into a five•shilling pieoe 1 When it came to that point it staggered us a good deal, I can tell you, but Tommy"— indicating b'r, Paulyn, by a wave of Iver fan—"came to the rescue. He surmount. ed the difficulty. A brilliant thought oc. curred to hint. The first—" " Of a long series," interrupts Mr. Paulyn. What had she been going to say? " I employed bub one letter to effect the desired comparison. It instantly • made Sir Mutius's pate a plate," "A cheese plate," supplements Margery. " It stayedat that for some time, but now itis a soup plate. " We expect no 'more from it. We feel it has done its duty.' "Why don't he do something for it ?' demands Primrose, "It's very abominable his going about like that in his skin." " I wish you wouldn't talk so unguarded. ly, my dear fellow," says Halkett, gravely, " when you know there are ladies preseht. It—it is not dtoent I" " Of Sir Mutius 7 No, that's what I'm preaching," returns Primrose, stolidly. ," What an absurb name it is," says Mr. Amyot, laughing, "Mutius Mumm, Oh l it is too ridioulous 1" "He and Aunt Salina, as he calls ber, are about the most absurd pair in the world." "As for her, she is delicious," protests Airs. Amyot, "She is a thing apart—voice, ringlets, and all. It is a pity to lose a bit of her." "You had better make the most of her to -day, then," says Margery, "because she is off to Shoebank next week early. In reality Shoebank is about fifty mike from this, hub if it were at the antipodes she could not make a reater fuss than she does about going there." "One can understand that. 1 told you she was delicious," murmured Mrs. Amyot. Mrs. Vyner, crossing the sward indolent- ly, comes up to her, " 1 have been playing tennfe," elle says, mournfully, "Imppossible! Why, you look as pool as a snowdrop," put in Captain Staines, "Do I r Her tone is of that order of in- difference that might be termed insolent. "A charming compliment," says Mrs. Amyot, smiling at Staines. "But as to your playing"—turning to Mrs. Vyner, who did you get to do it for you?" " Freddy Trent, of course. You know I never play with any one else. Ho does all the serving, and takes every ball," " Useful. boy 1 and what did you do 4" " I told him ]tow good it was of him,' lisps Mrs, Vyner. " So it was." "I wonder how you managed the stand• ing," says Irlalkett, " Did you lean on Captain Trent, or did you do it alone 7" "Alone I did it," returns Mrs, Vyner, "It tired me horribly, but no one should live entirely to themselves, Mr, Goldie told us that last Sunday, I've been living to Freddy, and it has brought me to death s door," ' I dare say you will rally here," eays Lord Primrose ; " the air is very mild," Wee there ever so charming a bit of garden 7" exclaims Mrs. Amyot. I should like to steal it," "As it stande, or without ole prosent 000upatt?" oaks Halkett, " Without." And not ono single exception?" "One only 1" with a tender smile, "Alt 1 And that?" The Daehshoncl yonder." "Some clay you will drive me bo 8001 ofde," eays Halkett, with melancholy foto. boding, "Beyond titin garden titers be another almost equal to it, ones Margery: " Will takes away the balk beneath the arbtttue• JUNII 16, 1803 wlc ums"agcaaaaxp: ac a T 4 A0. el • No I stn surfeited with huppiui•ss here, I shall not tempt fate further. You see a strange thin fn 1110—a contented woman 1 Lind another oontpenton in your ratable." I Try nth, Anise Daryl," eays Captain Staines, opringiug to Ills feet, " Evoey one pen Dome," returns Mar. gory, very slowly. " it is but a little plane, and I clo not think it would suit you. It is nothing but a small wilderuoss of sweets. It would, I imagine, bore you." you have, I fear, but an indifferent opinion of my &rebe1to tasty," said Staines. "I really do 001 think," with gentle insistence, " that you would pare for it. But," looking round her, "every one on come," " Every one 1 When I asked your per- mission to accompany yep, I thought, poi'• haps—" " Yes 7" Her interruption, though quiet, is prompt, " If you follow Mr. Bellew arc 'no, you shall see for yourself all the beauties of whish I have raved." Site inolines her head slightly. 11 is a dismissal, and Staines very wisely takes it as $01011. A start, so imperceptible as to bo only a thrill, runs through him, and a able ashen shade mingle$ with the natural bronze of his complexion, It is ao this moment that Mme. von Thirsk slips her hand through his arm. (To BB ooxTIxumD,) THE BALKY HORSE. Slow Ile Was induced to Start After Whip ping ,trlq Other Tortures Walled. Along a street fall of slush and mud a eorrylooking horse tugged a heavy cart loaded with Band that had been taken from under the street, where a groat railroad was building a huge tunnel. Many tart- fttlo had gone along the way before. Each had dropped a part of its load, whioh be. came mixed with the dirt and the melting snow, ao that a pasty mass was formed that made life hard for a well intentioned horse thee was poorly fed, and hitched to a heavy sand Dart. Though on the rise of a hill, the sorry -looking horse seemed to be doing well with its greab burden. The great weight was added to by a burly driver who sat perched on top, instead of walking along. aide, as he should. Whflestaggeringatong under the double burden a great oraok was heard and the cruel lash of the whip came down on the poor panting sides of the ani- mal. The blow produced quite the opposite effect from that calculated by the brubal driver, for as soon as the horse felt its sting he stopped quite still. He had balk. ed. Furiously the driver jumped from his perch. Instead of putting his shoulder to the wheel, he gave the trembling brute a great lashing. The whip crashed around his legs and over his back. But 'the horse stood firm. \'hon the driver became ex- hausted by whipping the horse, a crowd lead formed. Among these were time drivers other eb its and street oars that had been stopped by the 'horse balking in the tram. way track. These men lenttheir aid to move the stubborn horse. They prodded him with sharp sticks; they tied cruel cords to his tongue ; they twisted his ears : dirt was rubbed in his mouth ; and et ery part of his body was made to suffer in the hope of stirring him. Just then a sweet, slender young woman came along. She was tate mother of a boy who was fond of horses and there at once spoke from her eye0 a volume of sympathy for the one being tortured. Though quick to feel for the animal, she was equally quick to act, She bought two apples from a nearby stand, and got a boy to take them out to the rebel. Time men had stopped in despair, and were thinking of some new punishment. Then ib was that the little boy with the apples approached the horse and followed by the great brown eyes of the lady, lifted the rosy fruit to it. Eagerly it snatched the feast. The treat seemed to change the horse's temper, for, munching the fruit in a contemplative sort of way, he put all hie strength in the shafts and started off. So it wan that the gentle thoughtfulness of a kind heart did more than could many mon. Bearded Women of the Future. A learnedGerman, says tine London Stan- dard, who has devoted himself to the study of physiology, anthropology, and allied sciences, makes the rather startling asser- tion that moustaches are booming corn• moner among the women of the present day than in the past. He tells eta that in Con• stantinople, among the unveiled women that are to be met with, one out of ten possesses an unmistakable covering of down on the upper lip. In the capital of Spain, again, the proportion of ladies with this masculine characteristic is said to be quite equal' to that observable ou the Golden Horn. An American medical man states that in Philadelphia fully 8 per cent. of the adult fair sex are similarly adorned, and probably the proportion would be shill larger but that many women take the trouhlo to eradicate the unwelcome growth by the applioatiou of depilatory prepare. Mena. Is time inorease in the number of women with hair on their faces toberegarded as a sign that the human raoe istmproving 7 Very few men, at all events, will be dis- posed to consider that a mustache adds to the charms of the opposite sex. English- men, indeed, only a generation ago, had sucha detestation of muatacltes and beards that a practice of shaving all hair off the face down to their mutton -chop whiskers was all but universal. From one extreme our clean-shaven fathers plunged into tate other, and beards and muotachee rapidly became the fashion. The fashion has of late years again been modified. Beards are lees common, but the mustache is cultivated in England as widely as on the Continent. But why should the fair sex be visited by this infliction? Some writere on ethnology hold that the higher races of mankind aro always the hairier, and Mr, Mott thinks that in a few coteries men and women will all be clothed with hair. But we do not believe Mr. Mott ; and we certainly should not care to live to see the day of bearded beauty. How the Money Goes, The caustic criticisms which Sir Griffith Evans has boon making on the lavish scale upon which the In 1'a nffioe establishment is ]cops up seems w have awakened some interest in the Empire. He instanced the Oorreepondenoe Department, where there aro six secretaries at £1200, six assistant seoretaries At from 1500 to 11000 a year, a speotal assistant and violtor to the Indian Museum at x800 ayear, who Inas the aosistanue of n clerk' at C -t00 a year, and a sphere Oporaunlun, There nee eleven senior general alerke and six " reduntant " senior clerks, While the juniors and their aesistento swell the total to forty-nine. Thee there are rho allnwanoes, Throe clerks aro specially paid for editing be Indian lief, and another for preparing he Sanitary Bine Book, The lower branch., s sae made up on a similarly Sharon scale, forthere are noleso than tweetyoigh Orem.. vitae, and the meesengere get (tetra pay. or posting lettere. and attending on the woozy of State, -Truth, a ou come and see it 7 A year ago it was ovely, It mutt be lovely still," S ECHOES OF THE IBRITISH FLEET. The ]boll Sayings nr Mc lstltl,rsl nMalt. Autong the English Natal l'tsitnt'o at New brie, The New fork Sun says i—'' The moat remarkable of all your Yankee inventions," said the wittiest of the t`:uglieh navel ant. cos who came to the naval rendezvous, " areyour ehimiste' shops, to my Way of thinking, don't you know? They are really al,out youroofly of N`lew1eYorka1 catietlento find out about them quite be accident—and a very good sorb of aooident it was, I aseuah you. ' Can you tell me whaiah youah Mr. Edward Cooper livee ?' 1 arcked a person in tits streets. 'I really don't knovre said the person, ' bub why don't you look in the ohimist's1' 'Bub, really,' said 1, ' he's not a ohimist,' ' Oh, you don't seem to know,' said the person, so he showed ata Wo popped into the very drat chimlet's shop, which was on a corner, and there was a di• rectory quite free of charge, and I found what I wanted, don't you see. " Wheu I get back to England T am go- ing to tell everybody abort these wonderful obimista' shops. They ahem to be on every corner, and eaoh has a direotory—and no fee for the looking. lete've nothing like that in London, any mors than we've any overhead tram. Now, there's your overhead tram. I like that very Wroth, To be sure, there's a bit of sputter and fuss as the trains pass along, and a trifle of olimbing to get to tt ; but it gets you about, and that's what you want, arfter alt." "I like your President's looks," he said after being presented to Mr. Cleveland. "I (tear he's a man who spite out what he thinks and what he means, and that's the sorb I like. But, really, your Mrs. Presi- dent ie the one I looked at. I hadn't an eye for him once I clapped eyes on your Mrs. President. 'Hello l' said I to myeelf, 'that's the one you must look at as long as you have the chance.' I had only a how d' do with her, yet she managed to say some• thing very alae est the spit. I'm told she's like our Prince of Wattle at saying thins that are pat at an instant's notioe, don't you know? Ah, your Mrs. President is the part of your Government for me." It pained him to have the word "foreign- er" applied to him and the rest of the Eng- lish. Perhaps it would bo more true to say that it amused and surprised him and pain- ed all the other Englishmen. "We don't call you Americans 'foreigner," he said, "and we haven't then way of thinking of you." His friendliness was as absolutely genuine as that of Admiral Hotham, who commands the North Pacific station aboard the Warspite off our west coast, and once acid to the reporter of The Sun : "Do you • want to know when your country and mine will go to war with one another? It will be when monkeys go to heaven." But this wittiest of Englishmen who were in this harbor recently always had a tender word for bhe Hollanders. "They used to carry brooms at their mastheads," he said, "and they really were top•up devils in their day, Their funny old shipe are still to bo seen knocking about the English Channel. They carry strings of dried onions about to sell in all the ports. That seems a ebrange way to make a living—selling dried onions, but if you think a minute you see the beauty of it. The onions cost nothing and sell for something, and that's a vast proflb, you see." Once he was arrayed in his finest uniform heavily bordered with gold lace, and dom- inated by a glorious cooked hat.. "Come," said he, "come and have a look at a great man." "Why you are very proud of your nni- a rm, aren't you" he was asked. "Proud?" he replied • "I am au proud as a puppy dog with a gladiolus in his mouth." At another Lime he was down11n his knees poking the stove that heated the cabin in whichhewas conversing with The Sim. "Why not call an orderly and lab him poke that stove while you go on with the interesting story you were telling 7" "Oh, but they can't poke it you know," said lie ; "they wouldn't know how. This is anAmerfoanstove introduced inour navy e by our Admiral, and its a very ticklish thing that few of us can manage, don't you - see ?' The principal upon which promotion is based in the British navy is that of selec- tion, and the officers of the ships are se. leoted from the lower grades by the Lords of the Admiralty. When this British wit explained the methods in vogue, he was asked if the evil was not that in monarchy the sone of noblemen and scions of aristo- cratic families benefited by favoritism. "Oh, not a hit of it," said he ; "it is quite the other way. As soon as the Lords conte upon a name that's got a handle to it—a title, don't you know—they say. '011, that beggar'll get along anyway ; let's see if we carn't find some chap that needs all the help he'll ever get.' " Fora G1ase of Water, In 1890 a young girl of Ashford, England was standing at the edge of a crowd in front of Buckingham Palace, London. The people were observing the arrival of guests et one of bhe Queen's " drawing rooms," or receptions, Finding it hard to pass, this young woman, whose name was Iturolt, remained with the ethers, and watch, ed the coming of the gentlemen and ladies. As she stood, she noticed an old man when she had seen in the crowd suddenly begin to stagger. Re took several unsteady steps; and then fell to the ground. Tito orowd part- ed and left him without assistance, sup- posing that ho was intoxicated, But Mies Burch, more compassionate, and convinced that the old gentleman had been suddenly taken ill, went up to him, lifted his bead, and succeeded in inducing one of the jeering bystanders to go and geb a glass of water. She helped the fallen man to rise and con. ducted hue teen° of the benches in the park. There he swallowed sone of the water, and began to feel,hetter. When he was restored and able to go on, he assured her that he had just arrived in London from a long and tire• some journey, and from standing still in the crowd had been taken with a fainting fit, The gentleman asked the young lady for Icor card and obtained it. After as0uring her that he should never forgeb her kind- ness, ho wont away. Twelve years passed, and hiss Burch had almost forgotten this ocoarrenae, when shereoeived a letter ask. ing Iter to present herself at the office of a firm of lawyers. She did so, and there learn od that the old gentlemen whom she had at. sited in front of Buokingham Pekoe had died and left her a fortune of ono hundred an fif. by thousand poundssterling. This sum, up. Wards of seven hundred thousand dollars, was surely a generous return for a glass of Water and a helping hand in an hour of need, Speoulatibnville. ""I don't see," said tho investor, " that you have any eight: of a town here,; "No signs? Well I reckon Wo ltavo.1 • That's a lot for a post•ofltpe e, alto for a eemetory,, a pond far baptiehtf an etx oandf dates for guv'nor lr'