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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe East Huron Gazette, 1892-09-08, Page 4• 1• _/ THE BENS Of UNAYENI. CHAPTER II- RAFE THE PEDLAR'S DISCOVERY. It was the yehe or that Egyptian cam- paign ie which the battle of Tel-el-Kebir had been -fought and won after the long night-rn:-reh beneath the stars. The British army- thereafter entered Cairo, carrying their sick and wounded with them. In the hospital quarters an officer sat writing at a table. He was dark in complexion, as if he had been for many months under the burning glare of a sub -tropical sun ; while the Mita and wasted face showed that he had been and still was an invalid. In the regiment he was known as Captain Norham, but to the Vicar of Linlaven and to the Captain's young wife whom we saw enter the Vicar's study at the close of the last chapter, he, the absent one, was simply and more k in spoken of as George. And it was to these dear ones at home—to his wife —he was writing now. Let us look over his shoulder and follow his pen. "One evening," he writes, "I had a strange experience. It was after the re- ceipt of my father's letter in which he in- formed me that your grandmother had re- solved to settle her own property otherwise than upon you. I had been in a despairing mood for some days. My wound was not healing well, and I worried myself into something like delirium as I thought of the helpless state in which my death would leave ypru and our poor children. That you should be entitled by all the obligations of natural law and family ties to the provision which your father's mother has it in her power to make for you, and yet to be cut off therefrom by a perverse and unnatural act of•will on the part of one so nearly re- lated to yon—I say, the thought of all this burned into my brain, and must have goad- ed me into a kind of frenzy. "I do not know whether it was in a state of deliriam or in a dream, but I found my- self in the dear old church 'at home -the church of Linlaven. I was seated in my father's pew, and alone. It was night, and yet somehow it was not quite dark. The church was filled with a soft luminous haze, as of moonlight through obscured glass. I sat, absorbed in the perfect stillness of the • place. Then up in the church tower I heard the bell strike one—two—three—slowly, solemnly—till it had struck twelve; the last stroke dying away in long melancholy vibra- tions; and once more the church was all still as death. I then observed that the west door was open, and that a white belt of light lay across the porch. I saw, too a figure standing there, shadowy, ghost-like, and yet alive. He entered, and moved slowly up the aisle until he had almost reach- ed the altar. But he did not approach farther, for at this point he came over towards where I was_ sitting, then turned and stood before the burial -place of the Norhams of Brathrig Hall. I was close' to him, and I knew him. My •-dear wife, it was your father, Arthur Norham ! I never saw your father in life ; and yet somehow I knew that this ghost, or apparition, or eidolon,or whatever it was,was your father. I could have touched him, I was so near; but I could not stir. He did not appear to be aware of my presence ; but my eyes fol- lowed his, and I saw he was reading the letters on the white- marble tablet which records his father's death. He stood before eft with bowed head, as if in deep dejection and -grief, and I heard these words, uttered : "He—gone ; and I—unforgiven 1" At that moment, a crash as of thunder rang through the church, and the whole scene disappeared in the twinkling of an eye. I woke up. It was only the sunset gun ; and I must have been dreaming. " I was greatly disturbed by the dream, and am still. That I should indentify a man whom I never saw in my life, and should feel so sure that he was your father, almost appears to indicate something like an in- sane delusion on my part. Your father_ mast havegnitted his father's house about the time of my birth, and so his personal appearance could not be known to me. But I will des- cribe him, and my father will judge. He was -dressed in a riding -coat and boots, his head was uncovered, and his hair was dark, and curled closely around his head. He wore no beard ; bat there was not light enough for me to note his complexion or the colour of his eyes. Only, somehow, I knew it was your father as surely as if he had been known to me all my life. I' wonder what all this portends, 'and _whether it is due alone to my feverish state of mind, or to some other cause which has hitherto shrouded in darkness the mystery of his diseppearanee." The above letter, with all its other de- tails of love and longing for absent ones which weleave to the reader's imagination, only giving what concerns our story -this_ letter, written in- the hot Egyptian. sun, was that which Wilfrid Norham carried to -the vicarage of Linlaven on the night of the fierce October storm. Wilfrid was the Vicar's second son, des- tined to succeed him in his sacred office. The lady, the wife of the absent soldier, was the Vicar's daughter-in-law, and the sole child of that ill-fated marriage between Arthur Norham and Esther Hales, the an- nouncement of which at Brathrig Hall thirty years before had led to the old Squire's fierce wrath, driving him onwards within the hour to a violent death. The Vicar of Linlaven was of the kin of the Norhams of Brathrig Hall, but the tie of relationship was thinning with time, an would hardly bear the strain of any degree of cousinship. But still he and his two sons —Captain George in Egypt, and Wilfrid -at home—were of the trine Norham stock. The Vicar and the missing Arthur Norham bad been at school and university together, and • their friendship had been close and keen. So also had been the Vicar's relations with the family at the Hall, till the time came when Arthur went off upon what his father regarded asa mission of folly; after which the friendship between the Viearandthe Squire somewhat cooled. The latter was angry with his son-for_quitting the ways, of his an - editors, and he was equally angry with : the Vicarbeeause herefused to take the Squire's - side against'Arthur. - Nor was the death of the Squire the only calamity that followed upon, these event$. simply aided and abetted her son in the murder other husband.. - - And Arthur himself, and Arthur's -wife or widow—what calamity had likewise over- versing on what lay so near tri the heart of each—George's restoration to health, and the sad possibilities that might ensue if the event were not restoration. At length taken them? Everything that was possible f Clara pleaded fatigue, and retired for the was done to trace Arthur, but nothing night, carrying her husband's letter with availed. He had gone like last winter's snow. He could not have wilfully deserted his wife, because the deepest and warmest affection had always existed between them. And she, left with her little baby Clara, was heart -broken, and did not survive much over a year. The Vicar's wife was then alive, and, when' the young mother died, took home the little Clara, and brought her up with her own two boys, and was a true mother to the child. Even the fact of this poor child's orphan- ed condition failed to soften the wild and unnatural resentment of the old lady at the Hall—Dame Norham, as she was generally styled. She would not see the child ; refused to look upon it. That it was -the offspring of her own son was nothing to her ; he had been awicked and unnatural son, and had murdered—yes, murdered— his own father. She had been left by her husband sole executrix of his property and estates, and never, so long as she could help it, should the child of this unknown, mean- ly -born Esther Hales, own a single -shred of them. - Her only remaining son, - Jim, counted upon succeeding to the estates of his father after his mother should depart this life ; but Jim the dissipated youth had grown up to be a dissipated man—had burned, so to speak, the candle of life at both ends, and had, good ten years ago, passed into a name- less grave in a foreign land. His sister,too, had died, unmarried ; and now, the estates and other property were designed for the possession of a very distant branch of the her, no doubt to weep pray ray over it alone, as good women do: Father and son continu- ed to sit there for another hour, not saying, much one to the other, but smoking together in the silent confidence of friendship, which at such times is better than talk. The hour of eleven bad pealed out from the church -tower, when a lend ring was heard at the door -bell. Shortly thereafter Mrs: Sommes, the old housekeeper, entered the study. " Please, sir," she said, addressing the Vicar, ' that be the gardener come to tell us that Rafe, the owd Scotch• pedlar, have found a pore man a -lying to -night on Brath- rig Fell, and Lawrence Dale the miller and some more o' them ha'. gone up and carried him down. They ha' made a bed for him in the Owd Grange, and please, sir, could Mrs. George let us have some blankets and wraps to cover the pore man, for gardener says he be as near dead as ever man can be?" The Vicar replied that Mrs. George had retired for the night, and was not to be disturbed ; but that she, • the housekeeper, was herself to give the gardener what was necessary. Wilfrid started to his feet, and said he would himself go down to the Old Grange, and see • what was afoot. The Grange was a tall building just be- yond the vicarage garden. The night was now comparatively calm, and the old build- ing could be seen standing out black against the aky, From the doorway a gleam of light shone out; and on entering, Wilfrid family, the Linleys of Longarth, according saw the pedlar, with some others, standingbeside his pack, lantern in hand, and before to the fiat of this hardened old mother, him the figure of a prostate man on a rough - whom neither calamity nor death was able lv extemporised bed, evidently in a state of to soften. unconsciousness:. Wilfrid put his hand on So variously does adversity act and react the maws wrist, and after a time satisfied on different natures. Some it ripens into a himself that the pulse was beating—feebly Sweeter and nobler fruition ; others it dries and intermittently, but still beating. The up and warps into sapless rigidity- - gardener arrived from the vicarage with All this was in the minds of this little blankets and other coverings, in which the family group as they sat there with George's old man was carefully wrapt ; and the pedlar letter beforethem. To the Vicar it recalled volunteered to stay there for the rest of the thoughts of Arthur Norham in the days of night beside the man, and to give warning their youth and friendship long ago. to the neighbours if anything happened to " Yes," he said to Clara, 'the appearance render help necessary. of the figure which George saw in his dream Wilfrid thanked him for his kind offer, is like your father as I last saw him. I ex- and bade the man good -night, promising to pect that I must have described him at see to the sufferer in the morning. The some time or other to George, and that the others also retired, all except the pedler, to picture I then drew has lain latent in his whom Lawrence Dale the miller stepped mind until recalled to his memory while in back a pace and whispered : ' Rafe, I fear a state of semi --delirium. Yet it is very that poor creature has something on his strange and very painful - to have the past mind. Let what we heard him say yonder brought back to me so vividly as this dream on the hillside to -night lie a secret between does." thou and I. would ill become us to No one spoke for a time. Clara was evi- bring mischief on gray hairs like his. ' dently thinking less about the dream and And so exit. the strangeness of it, than of her husband's The cold gray light of morning crept slow- condition in that distant foreign land. ly over the silent hills and into the brown Where, in the course of his letter, he spoke with much hope of his final recovery to health, she, as she read these words silently to herself, strove with a woman's insight to read between the lines much which she fan- cied he had left unspoken lest he should add to the sorrow and the hope deferred from which she had already suffered so much. The tears that came unbidden to her eyes were an index of the mental struggle through which she was passing. - "It is a shame!" said Wilfrid, angrily breaking the silence, as he rose and began to walk hurriedly up and down the room. "What is a shame, my boy?" asked the Vicar. " That Arthur's own mother up at the Hall should act with such persistent and mereilesshosility towards her son•schildren, Why, Arthur Norham was flesh of her flesh and, blood of her blood, so also are Clara and her two children. The woman cannot get rid of that fact ; why, then, should she exhibit' a kind of savage delight in facilitat- ing arrangements to put the estate past them? I had some talk to -day with Mr. Brookes when I was in town, and he says everything is practically settled, that that rascally Liuley of Longarth is to have the property, and Clara and her children are to be left to starve as far as Arthur's mother is concerned. I say again, it is`worse than a shame—it is a scandal. Why, Arthur Norham did not sin half so deeply against his father, as she, his own mother. is sin- ning against him and his." Clara lifted her eyes to Wilfrid, and there was a look of gratitude on her face. It sometimes does us good to hear our own feelings expressed for us. The Vicar was silent for a while, and then he spoke, calmly, and as if to check the ris- ing anger of his son. "Von must not forget Wilfrid," he said, "that it is doubtful if Arthur's mother can help herself so far as the Brathrig estates are concerned. tTo doubt she could—and as -a Christian and a mother she si'ould— make provision tor Clara and ;the children out of her own private possessions. But as for the estates, that is a somewhat different matter, and she has not quite a free hand. When Arthur Norham left his father's house and remained so many years absent, the Squire, as a man of perception and know- ledge ofthe world, could not fail to per- ceive that a• young man with the strong and heady impulses of his son, and at an - age when youth is peculiarly susceptible, would run a danger of marrying some one in the class of life with which he had now associated himself: However respectable and worthy that class might be, the persons forming it were not such as the Squire, with his old-world notions of things, could quite approve of as . family connections.— Do not speak, Wilfrid ; I am not going to argue -the point.—Well, things being so, he had made up his mind that, if Arthur survived him, he should, married or un- married, succeed to the property, being the elder of his two sons. But—and this is what I draw your attention to—if he pre- deceased his father, and had previously made a marriage without his father's con- sent, then the children of that marriage were to be completely and perpetually cut off fromany 'benefit in, or succession to, the -estates.') - " Ah," said Wilfrid, fQ that's rather- a different story." - "gess," continued the Vicar ; " that is why 1 am somuchmoved by this dream of ed'rge s. 'We found it quite impossible to Tire squire's lady, now a widow had hither-, obtain any cine to Arthur's movements after to been ofageutle and loving. nature, .par he -left his home, which was but the day be- ticularly fond of her husband and children., fore bis father's fatal accident- From that But from the hour that she saw her hue- -time'-Arthur no longer communicated with band's dead body carried into the hall, .a the family Lawyer, or drew upon -the sum of change, almost phenomenal, passed overher:-:Worley which was payable to him,` as previoas Her husband's death had been dire to her 46 -118 disappearanee- he had regularly done. aon-Arthur's disobedience. It wan much as Ailo alight, if we were rich, fightthe matter iI he=had struck a dagger -into his --father's =out in the:courts of law ; but the presump- -bosom. t ssai ply inneder. rilielboyh tion -'would stillremain against us, as we left his homewithout bis sknowledgii could' not prove that Arthur Norham was had married without lies father s --consent:=; alive at ihetime-ofhis father's death. Near- hatltnarrieda-Iow 'Wean they had never.fytht tyyearshavepassed,andthe mystery seems;`; Intl graced the < fami`lg name. df hos disappearance has never yet been snly- then- bald iten a_letter that -a Ted " r e with nu in thuiktng that f'ati p _ ho 'thb = t " ' that site has ani le � I�lcTte � `rtl�ur* (slier, seeing Maas P oth dst L" s some pro- fiioQ�tt :uir ht to mea �-��vl �i) ti>"tfiss�- s til THE LOSS OF THE BIRKENHEAD , heroic Officer's behest to stand calmly where - they were and taco the inevitable. Theer An -Instance of British Courage that win wereno.flashing eyes and resolute looks as hided b if he had addressed them on the eve of bat- y ®-11 corn use isit .4,1,4 -aye douse ens THE GUILTY FEAR SCIENCE. Never be Forgotten. - tie ; no answering cheer, such as would have The Birkenhead, troopship, iron paddle- greeted his ears had he asked them to follow wheeled, and of 556 horse power, sailed him in the deadly charge. But each in that from Queenstown, 7th January, 1852 for the moment resigned himself to death, and took Cape, having on board detachments of the farewell of hope, and love, and life, and all 12th Lancers, 2nd, 6th, 43rd, 45th and 60th things dear ! Face to face with eternity, Rifles, 73rd, 74th, and 91st regiments. It need we doubt that many a painful thought struck upon a pointed pinnacle rock ori and bitter reflection rushed through the Simon's_Bay, South Afeica, and of638persons doomed men's minds ? Many a backward only 184 were saved by the boats ; 454 of glance would be taken in -fancy on dear fa - the cr.w and soldiers perished February miliar home scenes, and well -beloved ,13 i 2. faces never to be seen again. But not The foregoing is the record in Haydn's a heart quailed, or gave outward evi- Dictionary of fates of one of those striking dence of mental struggle. Down, still events, the facts of which, once impressed down, sank the ship, yet all was calm on upon the memory can never be forgotten.. board, as if her company had been assem- The incident is called to mind by the fact bled for Sunday morning service. Sobbing that the details were recently read out by wives and fatherless .children were drifting royal order on the parade ground of every over the blue expanse to a haven of safety German regiment, the Kaiser thus acknow- but with bal. Seton—under the starlit sky ledging that no more inspiring example of —already in the grasp of death—there was military heroism and perfect discipline no craven heart who wished to take the could be imagined. place of any of the helpless ones, and he The story, despite the glory of its lu.nin- saved instead. No ; sone at the pumps, al- ous heroism, is a sad one. The British though they knew the labor was futile ; troops fighting against the Kaffirs had been but the greater part, rank to rank, and hardly cut up, and reinforcements were shoulder to shoulder, stood on those sinking urgently required. These reinforcements planks—faithful to duty—uttering no mur- were sent out from Cork on hoard the troop- mur or cry—a band of noblemen, whose ship Birkenhead with all haste. Two regi- true heroism no Thermopylae could rival, menta had suffered severely in the campaign and whose devotion neither saint nor mar- --the 74th Highlanders and. the 91st—and ter ever excelled. And standing thus, in an - the reinforcements included 66 men to the broken order, with the brave simple-minded former, and Captain Wright one sergeant, sailors—who were to share their fate—gaz- and 60 to the latter. There were also on ing on them in speechless admiration, that board detachments of the 12th Lancers, 2nd battalion of British soldiers were swallowed Queen's Regiment, 6th Royals, 12th Regi- up by the relentless waves. Not half-an- ment ;43rd Light Infantry, 45th Regiment ; hour from the striking to the sinking, yet 60th Rifles ; and 73rd Regiment. The 74th time had been given for a grand display of had lost its commander, Colonel Fordyee, all that is best and noblest in man. In ali in action, and Lieut. -Col. Seton went out -433 souls periehed—including the gallant with the reinforcements to take over the Seton, whose noble heriosm was an example omman. He was the senior officer on board to-all—and not a woman or child was -lost. the transport, and next to him in rank Of the dead the 91st contributed Sergeant was Capt. Wright of the 91st. The Birken- Butler, Corporals Webber and. Smith, and head, which was a fine paddle steamer, 41 privates.- May their glorious memory commanded by Capt. Salmon, a master in never be forgotten. the navy, made a good passage, and, on the There were many miraculous escapes, 25th February, 1852, reached Simon's Bay. amongst others that of Cornet Bond of the Time was valuable?, and, not only was the 12th Lancers, who was a splendid swimmer, ship steaming at a speed rapid for the and reached the shore by his own unaided period—eight miles an hour—but the com- exertions—afterwards lending valuable aid mender of the vessel to shorten the dis- to others, who must otherwise have perish- tance, closely hugged the shore. Simon's ed. But our concern is with the escape and Bay -had beenbehind, and everystroke d left e i h 1 adventures of Capt. Wright, of the 9 at. of the paddle was bringing Algoa By, the `(;apt. Wright with five others grasped a landing p lace, nearer to hand. The night large piece of driftwood with which they was fine. The waves rippled gently in the came in contact when the ship sank. The moonlight, and scarce three miles off could sea was covered - with such floating pieces be seen the dull- gray of the coast line of and with men struggling in the water. So Danger Point—ominous name ! The hopes- far as the captain could judge at least 200 of all were high, for never yet did the men were at first keeping themselves afloat British soldier's heart . fail to beat with by -clinging to pieces of the wreck. But quickened, eager excitement as he neared men were sinking in all directions, and the the enemy with whore he was about to en- sharks were busy at work. Three boats gage. Numbers strolled about the deck, were drifting bottom upwards towards the chaffing, talking, and speculating on the land. With his five companions on the work before them • a few were below driftwood the captain was carried towards Danger. Point. But the seaweed and the breakers combined to form a very serious impediment to Ianding, and to relieve his weight from the bit of timber which had carried them so far he parted from his com- panions and swam ashore. Others imitated his courage. Some who landed were almost naked, and none 'had shoes. This made con it was, but they were agreed that it progress into the interior through prickly was a lighthouse. brushwood extremely painful and difficult. Just before 2 o'clock on the morning of Capt. Wright led a large party up country, the 26th, the leadsman was on the paddle- until they arrived at a fisherman's hut box preparing to heave the lead, as he had about sunset. By this time they were fear- fully exhausted and hungry, having been on foot all day after the adventure of escape, Judge of their discomfort, then, when they found the hut contained nothing to eat, and that nothing was procurable about the rlace ! But Capt. Wright, with the "grit" of a true hero, set out alone, and dragged himself, rather than walked, to a farmhouse eight or nine miles distant, from which he sent back provisions to the companions he had left at the hut. Later, having gathered together 68 survivors, of whom 18 were sailors, he took them to Capt. Small's farm, where they were comfortably housed and fed. Capt. Wright's exertions did not end here. In spite of his fatigue he returned to the coast, and for three days clambered up and down the rocks for about 20 miles to make certain that no helpless creature lay there requiring assistance. He was joined in the search by a whaleboat's crew, which sailed along the verge of the seaweed, while he moved along by the shore. Two men were found by the boat clinging to pieces of tim- ber among the seaweed in the last stages of exhaustion, and the captain found two oth- ers in the clefts of the rocks—all being hap- pily saved. A steamer was subsequently sent for the survivors, who arrived at Si- mon's Bay on the 1st of March. Capt. Wright bore full testimony to the heroism of all on board. Speaking of the officers, he said no individual officer could be distin- guished above another. " All received their orders, and had then carried out as if the men were embarking instead of going to the bottom ; there was only this difference, that I never saw any embarkation conducted with so little noise and confusion." Such in brief is the story of the loss of the Birkenhead—a grand incident in the his- tory of the world's brave men. - dales of Cumberland. The wind had died4, lounging, if not sleeping, in their ham away ; but Nature, like an ailing child that mocks. Amorg those on deck at half -past has not slept, met the coming day • with a ten in the evening was Capt. Wright, of the dim and tearful look. In the Old Grange 91st. Regiment, and he and the officer of at Linlaven the sufferer of yesternight still the watch had a long conversation respect - lay tossing in the weird delirium of pain, ing a light which attracted their attention and with the fierce light of fever in his eye. on the port side, There was a slight differ - Wilfrid and Clare entered early, and ence of opinion as to which particular bea- stood together a little distance off, arrested in their approach by the wild look on the jsufferee's face. He heeded not their pre- sence. He saw them not, nor heard. Clara went close up to him, and could note that the pale light of the October morning previously been doing, when suddenly as was revealing the pinched and worn face the good ship bowled along, there was felt of an aged man, ;with suffering writ large a startling, jarring, staggering crush. The on every feature.' He was still in that state vessel had struck ! Every heart stood still. of unconsciousness, and the sounds that Then rang out the vcice of Capt. Salmon escaped his lips were but the rapid, unin- prompt and clear—" Full speed astern 1" telligible, continuous monotone of delirium, This was the fatal mistake ; as the engines, which falls so strangely on the watcher's -reversed, drew the vessel backward from ear. the point of sunken rock which had pierced She returned softly to Wilfrid's side, and her bow, she struck amidships, driving her advised him to send immediately for a doc- hall in, and totally breaking her up. In the tor. When left alone, she turned once more instant it was seen that the Birkenhead was to wLere the man lay. a tolal wreck. She had, indeed, already "Poor creature," she said aloud; "what begun to fill in and sink. The inrush of can have brought his gray hairs to this?" watermusthave instantaneously drowned a The sound of her voice appeared to arrest hundred men in their hammocks. the attention of the man, and to recall his Now conies the record of the deed of un - wandering mind. By a quick movement, paralleled heroism. Cool as if he had been but evidently not without pain, he half on the parade ground, the gallant Col. raised himself on his elbow, stretching out Seton assumed the direction of the men the_ other hand towards Clara with an under his command. Quietly he ordered agitated gesture of appeal. • the tattoo to be beaten, and the roll of the "Esther,"hecried,inwild,distractedtones drums immediately sent forth the muster —"Esther! ha' thou eoomed to forgive me? call. Many of the men below who beard the summons of the drummer boys, under- stood that they had to appear for parade, and, instead of rushing in hot haste, un - undressed, to create confusion on the deck, numbers donned their uniform, and appear- ed in a few minutes ready to fall in. It was a sublime scene— sometimes the human soul can reach an altitude of dignity and nobility which is a wonder to itself. So it was now. These men stood on the deck of a sinking ship ; already she was settling beneath the engulfing waves, but quietly and without question they formed up at the calm, yet firm order of their commander, and listened to his words. These were brief but brave and thrilling. Calling the other officers around him, he enjoined silence ; then he desired Capt. Wright to give whatever assistance he could to Capt. Salmon. Speaking to the men, he told thein they could not escape. The boats would only `hold a limited number, and these the women and children would re- quire. The women and children—the weak and the helpless—were to be saved ! As for the soldiers—the brave and she strong; they would, if necessary, meet death with him ! If fear there was hidden in any heart it was conquered by discipline. Sixty hien, told off in three reliefs, were put to the chain pumps on the lower after -deck ; 60 were stationed at the tackles of the paddle - box boats ; all who were not required for active duty were drawn up in the poop, to ease the fore part of the ship, which was now rolling heavily. The troop horses were got up and pitched into the sea, some of the poor brutes swimming instinctively for the land, which could be seen in the bright starlight about two miles off. -Awe-stricken and speechless, the women and children stood while the ship's cutter was got ready ; then the helpless ones werelowered, and, in. a few minutes, aided by strong and willing hands, - all ' were safe aboard. Then the ropes were cut, and the boat glided away. It had just got clear, when the vessel, work- ing astern, struck again, causing -another yawning chasm, through which the water poured in volumes. The outer bow broke off at the fo:ethast, -the bowsprit shot_ up into the air towards the foremast, and the funnel went over the side, carrying with it the starboard paddle -box and boat. All this happened within 15 minutes of the ship striking. A second- boat had cap- sized when lowered, and a third could not be got at because of the breaking away of the forepart- And now came an exhibition oflieroism upon which the world might well gaze in awe. Strong and resolute stood that bareheaded man with the ,drawn sword— with his men face to face with death.. But, says a writer, nobler than their adhesion -to discipline, sublimer than mere devotion to their commander, was the spirit which moved the soldiers to ruurmhr acquiescence -in the Ha' thou coomed to tell me it were all a black mistake—a horrible dream from which I am now awaking? Tell me, truly, Esther— tell me !" And in his eagerness he seized her hand and pressed it to his burning lips. Then, as if the effort had utterly exhausted his feeble strength, he fell back on the rude couch, and his eyes relapsed into their former look of wild,and wandering vacuity. If the veil of oblivion had for a brief moment been lifted from his mind, it must have fallen again as suddenly ; for the room is once more only filled- with the hoarse murmur of his inarticulate ravings. - Clara, as she dropped his hand, turned from him with a scared and bewildered look. Her face was ashy pale ; and, as Wilfri1 at that moment re-entered, she made him some. hurried excuse and fled out into the open air. She did not stay till she had reached the vicarage and had entered the house. "What a strange thing to fancy," she said to herself. " Yet why did he call me Esther ? That was my mother's name. It cannot be"— head she entered her own room, and shut to the door. - (TO BE CONTINUED). An Aeronaut's Awful Fall. Five thousand people at Inver Grove, just south of St. Paul, Minn., were the horrified spectators on the l st. inst. of a terriblefall to death of Prof. Hobe,. the aer- onaut. When the balloon reached the usual altitude Hobe could be Leen tugging atthe valve cord, which would not work. Before he eould manipulate it the balloon was at least 3,000 feet above the earth. In the re- gular way he cut loose the parachute and shot rapidly earthward, but to the horror of the crowd the parachute did not expand and the unfortunate aeronaut fell like a shot toward the ground. So great was the -force of the fall that he was driven in the soft ground to a depth of 10 feet and instantly killed. It required the work of an hour to reach the body and death had occurred long before. - The Sweetest Lives. The sweetest lives are those to duty wed, Whose deeds, both great and small, - Are close-knit strands of an unbroken thread, Where love ennobles all. This world may sound no trumpets, --ring no bells. The- Book of Life the shining record tells. Thy love shall chant its otQn beatitudes ` After its own life-working.A chi'd's kiss Set on,thy sighing lips shall ake thee glad: r- A poor man served by thee -shall make thee rich; -A rich man he'ped by thee shall make thee atrong; future of Clara and her chili Thou; shale be served thyself by every cense • Of service which thou reitderest. tir the three sat con: -Mrs- Browning. Life's ()neer Side. Spiders have eight eyes. Silk worms are sold by the pound in China. - A thousand children are born in London workhouses yearly. A 14 -year-old boy at San Jose, Cal., thrashed_his father because he ordered him to bring in some hay. The longest animal knon n to exist at the present time is the rorqual, which averages 100 feet in length. At a public entertainment in Paris a young man was hypnotised. Two days elapsed before he was restored to conscious- ness. Georgia professes to have a girl from whose mouth there runs constantly a stream of water as from a small spring. An old man 79 years old, living in Node - way County, Mo., plowed his own land this Spring with a horse 29 years old, which was born on the same farm and has worked on it with the old man ever since. - - In India a huge funnel of wickerwork is planted in a stream below a waterf all and every fish coming down drops into it, the water training out and leaving the flapping prey in the receptacle ready to be gathered in, Mercantile item.. "How do you sell these peaches ?" asked :McGinnis of a colored woman who had them for sale. - ."Six for a dime, boss." - McGinnis began picking out half a dozen of the largest and finest. "Yoa cant do dat, boss. Yer can't pick out de biggest ones unless yer buys 'eui all." It often takes .a match to light up a ystuff ladv'acountenauce. • Ona trial for an assault a surgeon, in gir• ing his evidence, informed the Court that, in examining the prosecutor he found him suffering from a severe contusion of the in- teguments under the left orbit, with a great extravasation of blood and ecchymosis in the cellular tissue, which was in a tnn:ified state There was also considerable abrasion of the cuticle. The Judge—Yon mean, I suppose, that the man had a bad black eye ? Witness—Fes. The Judge—Then why not say so et once? Medical experts, when they get en the witness stand, are occasionally apt, lake this surgeon, to hide what they knownndsr me- er of imposing words. It is when doctor's permit their learning to he guided by their common sense that they do most to shield the innocent and convict the guilty. The question whether the person who fires a gun or pistol at another during the dark night can be identified by means of the light produced in the discharge ha_e long interested medico -legal minds. This question was first referred to the class of physical science in France and they answer- ed it m the negative. A case tending to show that their decision was erroneous was subsequently reported by Fodere. A Wotan positively swore that she saw the face of a person who fired at another during the night surrounded by a kind of glory, and that she was thereby enabled to identify the prisoner. This statement was confirm- ed by the deposition of the wounded man, Desgranges, of Lyons, performed many experiments on this subject, and he conclnd- edthaton adark night and away from every source of light the person who fired the gun might be identified within a moderate dis- tance. A case is quoted by FonhLanque in which some police officers were shot at by a high- wayman on a dark night. One of the officers stated that he could distinctly see from the flash of the pistol that the robber rode a dark brown horse of remarkable shape about the head and shoulders, and that he had since indentifled the horse in a London stable. He also perceived by the same dash of light that the highwayman wore a rough brown overcoat. This evidence was accepted, far r it was considered more satisfactory than that of the man who swore that he recognized a robber by the light produced by a blow on his eye in the dark ! The physiologist knows that is a clear impossibility, because the flashes thus perceived are unattended with the emission of light and it is not possible that they can make other objects visible. In a case of murder by strangulation the woman who perpetrated the crime had been a nurse in an infirmary and accustomed to lay out dead bodies. After the murder she carried out unthinkingly her professional practice by smoothing the clothes ander the body of her victim, placing the legs at full length, the arms out straight by the side and the hands open. The doctor who was called in at once declared such a condition of the body was quite inexplicable on the supposition of suicide, considering the amount of violence that must have attended the stranguls,tion. In another case the criminal had attempt- ed to make the death appear like the act of suicide by placing the lower end of the rope near the band of the deceased ; but he selected the left hand, whereas the deceased was right-handed, and he did not leave enough rope free from the neck for either hand to grasp in order to produce the very violent constriction of the neck which had been caused by the two coils of the rope. A surgeon pointed out these things. Both criminals confessed their crimes before exe- cution. Sometimes criminals feign to be deaf and dumb. If the impostor can write he may be detected by the ingenious plan adopted by the Abbe Secard, an old - French scien- tist. When the deaf and dumb are taught to write they are taught by the lip. The letters are only known to them by their form, and their value in any word can be understood only by their exact relative position with respect to each other. A half- educated imposter will spell his words or divide them incorrectly, and the errors in spelling will always have reference to sound, thereby indicating that his know- ledge has been acquired through the ear and not alone through the lip. A man who had defied all other means of detection wrote several sentences In which the misspelling was obviously due to errors produced by the sound of the words. That - showed he must have heard them pronounc- ed. Abbe Secard concluded that the man was an impostor without seeing him, and he subsequently confessed the imposition. An escaped convict was on trial before a French court and the question turned upon his identity with a prisoner known to have been tattooed. There was no appearance of colored marks upon his arm and the ques- tion submitted to U. Leroy, a medico -legal expert, was whether the man had ever been tattooed.? M. Leroy applied strong fiction to the skin on the man's arm. This had the eect of bringing out white lines as cicatrices, with a slight bluish tint. By this means the word "Sophie" was plainly legibly in white marks on the redder ed skin. This proved the identity of the convict who, thereupon, was barely restrained from knocking down the witness. tr so fr it th su ga gu sib hi th sa an of w ed, en bu wh is ke dol the usu eth and hap fives the sam don wav a su whit whe that with ably our lieve seem own occa our for t or ra alone he is tato steak Lakin zing g times notco eat a enou it els stereo be ha for us the w crasie he is not co but ev lights seems heart serve Basket Malting. Basket making, which used to bo prac- tised more or less in every villaee, is now relegated almost entirely to machinery ; and yet it is very easy, and children even may become very expert in its manipulation. Even the rudest and most primitive of hand- made baskets make a pretty present if filled with mosses and growing ferns. At a water- ing place, the other day, a elever woman set some children at work cn baskets for a charitable fair which was on the carpets and these baskets, filled in the way already suggested, found a ready sale, and brought in quite a nice little sum. Shoots of willow, were used in this instance. These were cut soaked in water, and afterward peeled. Strong pieces were laid across each other and woven together to make the bottom, the ends having been left sufficiently long to turn up when the foundation was large enough to form the uprights for the sides. Thinner strips were then woven in and out, thus forming a thick wickerwork. The edges were formed by the uprights or ribs being turned down and woven in.. This is the rude_t kind of basket ; but every one knows what dainty things aro woven out of bark and scented grasses. It is such pretty and easy work that it would be a popn?ar handicraft for idle summer hours if once adopted by the busy bees of society. If an old basket is tak_n apart and woven to - ether again it will give a practical know - ;edge of its construction which would be better than any directions that could be given. Turn a crank loose and it wall a: ake it- self heard. FRI pieces water Have a of salt with t1 - take it in whic tle Lion and se and po a few n Roes in slice dish, a ly wit was lef ful of g three made of ful of b a piece rubbing milk en be hand of the c in a brie. it is bak Mocs fine, ad curra,iCs gar, and makes f Panes corned is yet together lean ma dry mus oblong t it (right Set two weight a next day which ne X once off the le roots, wh the bee Boil the drop into skin off wise and butter, a L teaspoo hot water without them int -vinegar, wanted, s horse rad' ;cum from GREEN peas into done and dry. Mel stew pan ; be careful of cream bring to a the pan until the hot. The boiled may and makes NEW P with a coar ing vegeta water and longer. H butter and little green salt ; drain put over ho serve. RICE Sxo until soft in spoonful of perfectly co ed custard o pint of swee starch ; flay turn the tr.