HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron News-Record, 1894-01-17, Page 2I;hlpwpre.
wane dap when talar a sudden venae
Of per(cot penoa on heart, and ttaahp
' het opines, we.kilow uqt why or whence,
and ire Wessel; h seat *Sato,
When, breathe* the itttexpeotent hour
' fltrapge hoeatY of en instant blown,
AA M s rose Wein toll is flower
Whose earlteet,uu4e vie knew not grown.
Perehanoe tine winged snement sped
Down tho white healthts cif hoevet,ly ear,
Some spirit el our blessed death
teeth stood beside us unaware!
ADRIFT IN• MIDAIR.
It was near midnight and the gates of
the exposition would soon be closed. In
the various pavilions, with their multi-
tudinous attractione,the orehestras were
already attacking that "God Save the
Queen" of an altogether conventional
loyalty without winch no English cere-
mony ends. And as. with the aim of
getting nearer to the Macquarie fort,
where I thought more easily to regaiu
my vessel in the roadstead, I had made
the tour of the galleries, I found myself
unexpectedly before the circular grating
of the captive balloon.
Flamiug, but beneath the force of the
breeze which had arisen in the evening
quivering greatly, a line of gas permit-
ted me yet to read upon the triumphal
panel of the monumental gate : "Gov-
ernment of New South Wales. Austra-
lian and universal exposition of Sydney.
Captive balloon, after the model of the
Paris exposition. Visitors ascend 400
yards)"
One hundred yards more than at the
Place' du Carrousel 1 I felt myself led
into tempetation.
With my hand directed mechanically
- toward m vestpocket, n
Ilad approach-
ed a oacfe-
1
1
ed still nearer. It was the ticket seller
for the aerial voyage who decided me by
this apostrophe : "Make haste, gentle-
men; It is the last ascension of the even-
ing 1"
Resolutely I threw him the half pound
exacted as the price of the passage, and
introduced myself into the ring incum-
bered with chairs. A loose footbridge
formed the communication between the
platform and the car suspended over a
shallow ditch. I passed across it amid
the resounding accords of the brasses of
a flourish, and scarcely was I installed
in the huge osier basket when the foot-
bridge was withdrawn and the door of
the car, which was padded on the inside,
was closed again.' she euormous cable,
which alone was to bind us to the
earth, began to unroll very rapidly upon
its windlass at the command"of the cap-
tain.
It was my first aerostatic debut, and,
as I ascended on board the Condor of
the Andes, 'I did not fail to experience a
' Certain apprehension, altogether ner-
vous, a sort of involuntary fright,
whiolt by reasoning and force of will I
was able to control. I had felt at first
a great sensation of emptiness; my re-
spiration seemed cut off, and as I knew
that I was susceptible to vertigo I only
ventured with precaution to look with.
out over the elbow rest of the car.
Wholly contrary to niy expectations 1
found myself instantly at ease. The side
of the osier basket mounting as high as
my breast seemed to me sufficient pr•o-
tectionagainst'my ambition, and, com-
pletely reassured, I realized that I -was
restored to myself.
From that time I looked toward the
earth, from which the balloon was mov-
ing away with a rapidity which I judg-
ed to be giddy, although it was method-
ically regulated by the number of turns
of the gigantic bobbin of the windlass.
In the depths of tate night below me I
sought to distinguish the different
streets of the city over which we were
hovering ; and the greater or less inten-
sity of the lights served me as an indicat-
ing mark. I made out with exactitude
the park of the exposition; the palace of
the Governor, Lord Loftus, • with its
double range of candelabra, then
George and King streets, then Circular
a '
quay.
monsieur," said the captain,
addressing ire, whom, on seeing me step
into the car, he had immediately recog-
nized from my uniform as an officer of
the French cruiser, "do you see down
there in the midst of the roadstead the
position lights of your ship ?"
"Yes, yes) I see it, captain; monsieur's
French man-of-war ?"
Getting ahead of mine this reply was
thrown by the very fresh voice of a
slight and slender woman, who was
touching me with her skirt, and whom
I bad not yet noticed. But I could not
judge of the features of the unknown ;
the balloon which cast a shadow over
us and seemed like an immense sinister
mass of vellum above our hands pre-
vented me from •doing so. Neverthe-
less from the mere sound of her voice
I divined that she was quite young ; her
diction and accent undeniably proclaim-
ed that she was of good family. and a
lady.
I then had the curiosity to ascertain
how many traveling companions were
with me. I walked through the circular
gallery which below the hoop of the net-
ting the car formed around a large
empty space, but I found no other travel-
er. And. not without stumbling awk-
wardly over the bags of ballast of the
Condor of the Andes, I speedily returned
to the point of departure.
We were still ascending.
"Three hundred and ten yards 1" said
the captain, sententiously, pointing out
to me the registering barometer fastened
close to a small lantern to one of the
ropes.
The breeze had grown stronger; two to
three times the enormous balloon of var-
nished taffeta which was bearing us
away swayed wildly and gave a • furious
shock to the car.
"The cable can resist a traction of
100,000 tons," said the captain.
"It is truly magnificent 1" tranquilly
uttered the exceedingly calm voice of
the lady passenger.
I was forced to admit to myself that
my blood did not circulate so coldly.
The excitement made it even rush back
to my heart. But I stiffened myself en-
ergetically and leaned over the interior
void to thoroughly assure myself that
.we had reassumed the straight line.
"Three hundred and sixty yards t" an-
nounced the aeronaut,
Scarcely had he spoken when the bal-
loon stopped for a second as if it had
struck against some very soft and elastic
invidtlle buffer. Then, with a bound; it
.bot off again into space with an impetu-
osity wholly new and after a shock at-
tended with vibrations so violent that
we all three fell on the bags of sand.
Both the female passenger and I be-
gan to ask questions,
"What does this mean ? What is it ?
--What has happened ?"
The captain, who was the first to re-
gain his feet, Ieaned over the void.
"The cable is broken," said he. "We
afe loose 1"
Secretly frightened, but unwilling to
jai It be aeon. I said:
"'POONA oliptime b>illaona will is be
Strong enough to prevent its to land in
safety?'?
"There are only three of ns and the
behooa is inflated for thirty,. That's
the medivattiuniber of pa@gengero.
You will have only the annoyance of
pegging two Or three Moore more than
you calculated in my company And
doubtless the inconvenience of not get-
ting back to Sydney until to -morrow
morning,"
"In that case, captain," I replied, "I
am doubly delighted at the accident ;
the ascension bad grown exciting, and
we oould not desire a more courteous
pilot than yourself. Is it riot so,ma-
dam?"
"Miss, if you please," rectified the very
slight and slender lady. "Miss Arabella
Lipton,at your serviee," And she added:
"But I shall miss my last car for Woo-
lootnoolool"
From New vibrattoas the captain
conjectured that we were carry ing
suspended below us nearly the whole of
the broken cable, Its weight visibly im-
peded the ascent of the Condor of the
Andes. and there was reason to fear that
ou the descent it would occasion very
grave damages.
The aeronaut was, fortunately, prompt
in decision. Like a true captain he arm-
ed (himself with his penknife, and hoist-
ing himself over the interior abyss of
the osier basket, strove to saw away the
thick rope.
"How high are we ?" ho asked with-
out interrupting his difficult and perilous
task.
"Twelve hundred and twenty
yards," responded Miss Arabella, get
ahead of me again.
Panting greatly, the aeronaut ad
addressing himself to me:
"As soon as theII
o ble is detached,
a bound we will ascend to two—"
The sentence remained unfinished
At a slight cry I turned around,
ing to observe the barcmeter." Ove
gapiug void I could no longer see
the frau or the cable. In the capt
supreme effort, one drawing the of
both had fallen 1 Above us, toward
profound night, still stretched the
fathomable space.
I had not much time tor pity;
balloon, suddenly freed, scaled the
accessible with a prodigious bound
without any idea of aerial navigat
lost in space and darkness, I found
self alone with an ignorant young
as unconscious as she of the danger,
able to attempt the slightest manceu
Mute, but terrified -I divined it w
out geeing her, for her fingers
plunged their nails into my germ
and flesh -Miss Arabella had seized
arta. Suddenly she let go her hold
stoop, and I saw that she was throw
our sand overboard.
I was about to grasp her uncerem
ously by the waist -logically convin
that uuballasted we would mount big
yet-wheu of themselves her arms f
I realized that she was hurt. A p
also to very painful uneasiness, I gas
glance of anguish at the barometer.
atmospheric pressure had sensibly d
inished-we had passed 4000 yards 1
the air the oxygen had rarified. I
perienced a sensation I had already
on high summits.
`•Miss," called I, striving to raise
the young girl, but it was in vain, fo
had no strength. My legs trembled,
head sank upon my shoulders.; I
longer felt the existence of my body.
Crawling, I dragged myself to
barometer and saw with terror that
thermometer had gone down to zero -
338. That was the equivalent of 6500
yards in height, the altitude of Chimbo-
razo or of the Kouen-Lour chain. By
the light of the little lantern I noticed
that ray hands were growiug black and
swelling. My pulse counted the im-
probable number of 130 to 140 beatings.
Simultaneously with an insurmountable
desire to sleep, the forerunner of as-
phyxia, cadaveric insensibility was gain-
ing possession of me.
I had, however, the will to take the
little lantern in my hand, but on
stretching up to reach it I found myself
enveloped by terrible cold. ace coated
the Candor of the Andes. The mercury
of the thermometer had fallen to 24 de-
grees below zero.
I then clearly comprehended that the
end had come,and, without further striv-
ing to recover, closed my eyes and gave
myself up.
At the horizon, low and distinct, 'a
brilliant and blue light was appearing.
When I returned to the knowledge of
things a magnificent moon was illumi-
nating the night. My eyes, turning
mechanically to the rim of the car, die.
tinguished a small silk balloon fastened
to a strap. It bore a label : "Oxygen
at 75 per cent." And it was salvation 1
My scientific attainments enabled ole to
uuderstand this -salvation almost at my
hand 1 A few inhalations of that over -
oxygenated air would restore me with
life, with strength.
I seized the little balloon as quickly as
I was capable of doing, and, carefully
unscrewing its stopper, applied it to my
mouth to breathe. I afterward thought
of Miss Arabella and introduced the
slender neck between her lips, which I
saw were horribly black and swollen.
Greedily, as she returned to life, I took
it from her again, and then ensued be-
tween us a strange struggle of ferocious,
famished creatures.
Very far below us vast undulations
shone, which at that height, I judge to
be the Blue Mountains, We therefore
had been carried about fifty miles to the
west of Sydney.
Cool now and completely restored, I
was considering the quickest way in
which to end our adventure. The more
so, as saved from asphyxia and strength-
ened, Miss Lipton kept shouting in my
ears in a deafening tone : ' I want to
descend, Monsieur Frenchman I I re-
peat to you that I want to descend 1"
Parbleu 1 I also wanted to descend,
but I could not in reason burst our bal-
loon under pretext of showing myself
gallant toward her,
Without losing time in answering her
I strove to manoeuvre the ropes; I pulled
them one after the other, hoping thus to .
discover that which communicated with
the escape valve, And I evidently auo-
ceoded, for Miss Arabella exclaimed,
clapping her hands :
"We are descending,monsieur; the bal-
loon is descending!"
We were really descending, as could
be told by the strong shocks of the car,
and again t pulled at the rope, but much
more delicately, in order to avoid a .too
sudden reaction.
"What a gentleman you are," enthu-
siastically exclaimed. Miss Arabella.
"What you are doing for me fs so kind 1
But to think of our having been together
all this time without having been intro-
duced 1"
And later, When the anchor, which I
had finally succeeded in o ting over-
board, caught in a vineyard in the en-
viroua of Tonggabbe,she threw her arms
around my neck and said .to me between
two kisses: "Monitieur, since I owe you
y lite, .tlle•11 trodyotlon can ata consid-
Al!
Bred tnadel,
I
have Often neon ,Arabella since th8p.
indeed, l; Oa her almost oonstaatiy, for
she is now my .wife, acid I must ad
slit that I love her dearly,--8an Fran,otscc. Cai1,
-Dear Heart,
How many eummere love,
Have I .been thine?
How many days, thou dove,
Hast thou been mine?
Time, eke the winged wind,
when 't bent the flower.,
Huth left no mark behind
To count the house.
some weight of thought, though Loth,
On thee he leaved;
Some hues of ogre round both
Perhaps he weaves;
Some tears -a soft regret -
For joys scarce known;
Sweat looks we hall forget;
All else le flown!
Ah, with what thankless heart
i mourn and sing!
Look, when our children start
Like suddenepring!
With tongues all sweet and low
Like pleasant rhyme;
They teal how tnuoh 1 owe
To thee and time.
—Barry Cornwall.
FIRST AND LAST CASE.
Old John Hartlepool was dead.
That much was certain, It was evi-
dent that he had died from a pistol shot,
for there was a bullet wound in his
temple, and the doctors found the bullet
-five in his brain. A revolter with one empty •
Unachamber, which the bullet would have
fitted before its shape had been flattened
dad, by contact with the old rnan's skull, was
picked up in a court directly under a
window of
theroom �
ori � 1
r.r lr
with maid had found the old gentleman lying
dead, when she entered the room with a
cess- pass key at 8,30 in the morning. She
r the also found the t the window was closed
ginner a rid fastened and this effectually dispos-
ed of the suggesaion drat the old man
her, had shot himself and thrown the pistol
the out of the window, for, while there was
un- an infinitesinucl chance that he might
have thrown the pistol out after firing
the the shot into his bruin, it was absolutely
in- impossible that he could then have
And closed the window and fastened it.
ion Moreover the position of the body and
nay -
he ' the pool of ulood beside it showed that
gil, had fallen when shot and never 1
un• moved again. The most careful search
ere, of the room disclosed no weapon of any
ith• kind. Suicide was therefore clearly
had out of the question. It was a case of t
encs murder. Su, at kind, the police argued,
and, it must be admitted, with a good q
my
to deal of Mason. t
Who was the murderer? To aid in a g
w fr � ..,
the ,hale Itis uepbe'sv w0ipt vitt and 0,14
:had, though • several People had conte
dowp sttlira and one ipt4 thg.restattt.
alt, th y were allle,dtee a a
Ad,r Saler in.
matel"ot the arouse. ` `
.li dreiee fa* were brought to light
during the morning after the body was
flatipd, iyitlt the additional fact tbat.John
Hartlepool, jr,, lied disappeared. The
popular verdict was wilful murder
against John Hartlepool, jr., and all the
papers commenting on the case said that
it was perfectly warranted, and expressed
a hope that the wretched youth would
speedily be brought to justice.
At this stage of the case Nellie Eltham
came to me.
I had just opened an office as a detec-
tive and the seven $10 bilis and the one
$5 bill, which she laid upon my desk
and said were her whole savings, were
my first professional fee. She soon told
me her story, which was hardly neces-
sary, for I bad already read it in the
papers, which had not only enlarged upon
the old man's objections to Nellie's lower
limns, but had contaiued pictures sup-
posed to represent those objectionable
members, and, it is fair to say, if they
were a faithful reproduction of then),
Jack Hartlepool deserved to be disin-
herited for his wretched taste. When
we had gone over the story I asked her
what she knew about the case beyond
what the newspapers had told,
"I know that Jack didn't do it," was
the answer, "Why he would not' do
euoh a thing. Wliy, only yesterday he
raid---" and she stopped suddenly in
her rapid speech.
I eusppcted that she was keeping some-
thing back that I ought to know, so I
impressed her with the importance of
telling a everything, whereupon she
repeated he pitiful story about the legs.
and said
er reluctantly.
that
YJack had
w
s or at '
It the t e old man repeated the
remark to him he would make him re-
gret it. She confirmed the report that
the uncle and nephew were to meet and
discuss the will and the marriage. When
1 told her that she would be the most
damaging witness if called upon at the
young man's trial, as she was likely, to
be, she reeled as if she was going to
faint, but recovered herself and amid that
no natter vvhut might happen:she would
never repeat what she had just told me,
"I will die in prison first," she said in a
low, steady voice. When 1 asked her
ellen Jack was, she replied than she
had not the least idea. •
I told her that there did not seem to
be anything I could do for her, and
hat I would only retain $25 of her
money to pay are for attending the in-
uest. It seemed like robbery to take
hut, for I was sure that her lover was
uilty.
Sate said she would go to her work as
sual, as she most save every dollar to
rove Jack's innocence. That night I
went to the opera and saw her as site
tood before the footlights in all her
adiaut beauty and grace. It happened
hat at the climax of the opera the prima
onna proclaimed the innocence of the
tage herp, and as the words ; "He is
nuocent" rang out, the look of triumph
n Nellie'e face spoke so •much faith,
ourage and hope, that I found myself
uch against my will beginning to be -
eve that Jack was iuuocent atter all.
But I could do nothing to help her.
he inquest was short and nothing new
as developed and the verdict was one
f wilful murder against John Hartle-
ool, the younger.
Three days had passed siuce the in-
uest and no tiding, had been heard of
le accused although the officers were
outing the country for hits, when
cilia came to me and in her quick, curt
ay said:
It was not suicide. Jack did not
illed him. No one else could. It must
ave been an accident."
"Accident," I'exclnilned,
"Yes, accident," was the positive an-
t ver. "There is no other explanation,
nd I am going to rent the room where
ae old man died to try and think out
ow it happened,''
I tried to convince her that the ide
as absurd, but elie was firm in li�ir d
rmivatiou. So I agreed to follow her
recthons, which were that I was to
gage the old man's apartments for
y cousin, a lady who had come to the
ty to study elecul er', and NtIlie was
occupy thein forthwith. This ar-
ngement was carried .out that sane
ternoon.
The second night after she had taken
ssessiou the people of the fiat were
acted by a pistol shot and a scream.
uniting to the room whence the sounds
ale, they fouud Nellie lying upon the
or in her night dress and a small peel
blood by her head.
They lifted her upon the bed, which
e had evidently just vacated, and
mmoned a physician. He soon restor-
her to consciousness. She looked at
m with a gleam of triumph and wads=
red: "He is innocent,' and these were
e last words that she spoke coherently
r three weeks.
When her disordered brain recovered
normal condition I was summoned
d site told me her story, which. was iu
bstance as follows :
She had boon lying awake trying to
ilk what the solution of the mysteri;
s killing could be, when suddenly her
e discovered several raised button -like
obs which ornamented the high-carv-
wooden mantel. The light of the
ctric lamps in the street below shone
ghtly through the window and fell
on these knobs. They stood out above
woodwork of the mantel and pre-
tty her idle thought was speculating
to this curious freak of the architects.
rtainly their purpose could not have
n artistic, she reasoned. A close ob-
ver could not have helped remarking
t they were not quite in harmony
11 the general design of the mantel.
denly site sprang out of bed and
ched one of the knobs. It yielded.
pressed a little harder, and that was
she knew until she came to hereolf in
hospital.
To make a long story short, I went to
mysterious room accompanied by
janitor and found the knobs as she
described them. It was the third
n the center which she had pressed,
began by pressing the first from the
ter. It did not move. Then I tried
second. 11 did not move. Then
ng the janitor to get out of ]farm's
, I stood against the wall and
sed the third • knob with the
dle of my cane. The instant I did
le knob slipped in and . the sharp
rt of a pistolprang out. I held tate
b back with niy cane while the jani-
inserted the end of a poker and
ted the pistol from its fastening,
heard it when it struck the bottom
re compartii eat ante 'Which' it fell,
from the pistol, We began pressing
knobs one after the other and then
at a time, And found that when the
and second Were pressed stnrqItan-
ly they opened a cabinet in tt'hioh
some money and numerous papers.
rly there was the solution of the
nan's death. He had made a mis-
ing solution of this•questioa the police oni- rea-
soned in this way : As the dead roan 11
cad was found in his apartments in the fifth P
uer story of tin' apartment !souse where lie
all ; hard lived aloue for fifteen years, it was s
evident that the murderer must have 1•
.0J had some powerful motive to induce t
The him to take the risk attending such au d
fn- act, or else he must have been temper- 8
arily excited into frenzy by something
In which lead passed between hint sand 1
ex-
alt tate deceased. What could the motive c
felt have been ? It was not rubbery, for a m
u roll of notes and a quantity of loose gold 11
r I lay on the table, just $1500, which
m amount it was quickly learned had been T
y paid the deceased by one of his tenants w
no at 4,80 o'clock the afternoon before the o
the dead body' was discovered by the chain- p
the "bermaid.
No one could suggest that the old man iq
had any enemies. His habit of life was 'tI
exceedingly simple. The worst that isc
could be said of hits was that though N
very rich he was very penurious. He w
was not a Bard creditor, but on the con-'
Crary was inclined to be lenient in his k
collections. He was somewhat proud of
the fact that his mother was the daugh-
ter of an earl's daughter, but. the only
one who used to consider himself ag- a
grieved by this was his handsome and a
high-spirited nephew and namesake. So ti
a murder for revenge seemed out of the 11
question.
"Had anyone an interest in his death ?
On this poiut there was no doubt, for
John Hartlepool, jr., was known to all
the community as his sole heir-at-law.
It was also soon learned that on the very
morning before his death the old man
had instructed his solicitor to make a
will cutdug off his nephew with a pit-
tance, which will was to be executed the
next day, if the young gentleman would
not in the meantime renounce his inten-
tion of marrying a young lady who was
a member of a popular opera troupe and
took a role which was snore conspicuous
because of the elegance of her figure
than of the quality of her vocal powers
or the degree of her histrionic ability.
"Not a cent of niy money shall go to a
brat of a girl who makes a living by
showing herself to the public," said the
old man to more than a score of people,
fur his nephew's infatuation of the pret-
ty chorus girl was the ono sore spot in
Lie life. ,
Not that Nellie Eltham (she had not
risen to the dignity of a stage name) was
a "brat." She was simply an honest
little girl, who having to earn her living
was doing it in a way that nature had
eminently fitted her for. When Master
Jack in a moment of unintentional
frankness had blurted out his uncle's
pet objection to their marriage, site first
grew red, and then as pale as snow.
Then she ended by bursting into tears,
the outbreak being, so long that it was a
good hour before Jack 'felt safe in taking
his departure, which he did uttering all
manner of threats against his uncle for
believing and asserting that modesty
and the stage were incompatible.
It was known that uncle and nephew
had had an inlaerview between 5 and 6
o'clock, during which time a terrible
thunder storm was raging. The elevator
boy remember that when the young
man left the house he took the elevator
at the third story, that lid -was greatly
excited and said something about for-
getting to ring for hint to come up to
the fifth story. He also remembered
that it was raining furiously at the
time, and that the thunder was so loud
and constant that a pistol shot might
have been fired almost anymoment
during the storm unnoticed by persons
in an adjoining room. It also appeared
that there was an open window on tho
stairs on the fourth story, which window
looked out into the court where the pis-
tol was found.
One other fact remained to be learned
and that was at what time the old man
was killed, The nephew had left the
house a few minutes before 6 o'clock,
The elevator boy knew it because he
had only been gone a very little while
when the janitor came to relieve trim
for supper: Deceased was ao0uetomed
to take his dinner at a resaurant in the
lower` story of the building where he reg,
sided at 8,15 and was the soul of puna
tuality, "If he had been alive at 6.15
he would have been down to dinner"
was the verdict of every attache and
regular customer of the restaurant, No
one had entered tite building between
w
to
di
en
111
cl
to
ra
of
po
' st
R
ca
flo
of
811
su
ed
hi
pe
fo
its
an
su
thi
ou
ey
kit
ed
ale
bri
up
the
SEM
as
Ce
bee
ser
tha
wit
Sud
tou
She
all
the
the
the
had
fr•ot
so I
cen
the
telli
way
pres
Iran
so tl
repo
tor
e?
We
of tl
Safe
the
two
first
ecus
were
+'✓leis
old i
take itt tryint to ober,"'the cabinet .and
had
fp leu a plotim to hie .own ipftonu.
it In devising a Useless pr$teotiop for
bis valuables,:
}ti earriud the news quickly to NYellie
and tine eerlt me ft
Q pogt haste to the
newspapers vlth the story, for site want.
ed !very (Mato drove that Jack Saila net
g Her judgment was right, for
the ne'trepapere told ggf the discovery
with abundant praise ter the young girl.
Jack was declared innocent and a much -
abused young roan and was urged to •re-
turn, marry the graceful, beautiful and
rising operatic star and inherit his uncle's
wealth, but the hope was expressed that
be would not feel obliged to deprive the
stage of a lady who promised to bo one
of its greatest ornaments.
Two weeks later, or more than six
weeks after old John Hartlepool had
met his fate, a cablegram came to his
late address ; also one to Miss Nellie,
The cablegram was dated ' at Liverpool,
and the contents were identical, being
as follows :
I sun all right. Will be bore on first)
steamer, Was kidnapped and brought
to Liverpool in a saiiing vessel.
JACK.
It turned out that Jack had been infs.
taken for an important witness in a big
law suit and had been decoyed on board
a schooner lying at a Brooklyn dock
and taken forcibly to sea.
Jack returned in a few days, and, of
course, I was present at the wedding,
The Fur Bine Balls.
111it my eyes and ye are over there,
Wrapped lathe folds of the imperial air,.
And crowned with the gold of mcrn or evening rare,
U far blue hills.
Around von break the lights of Heaven on all,
There rolls nwa the Titan
Y splendid bell,
And there the circling suns of midnight fall,
o fur blue hills.
Wild bursts the hurricane across the land,
Loud roars the cloud and smites with blazing brand ;
They pass, and silence comes, and there ye stand,
U lar blue hills,
Your spirit alis the wide horizon round,
And lays on all things here its peace profound,
Till 1 forget that 1 am of the ground,
o tar blue hills -
Forget the earth to which 1 loved to cling,
And soar away as on an eagle's wing,
To be with you a calm and steadfast thing,
0 far blue hills :
While small the care that seemed so great before,
Faint as the breeze that fans your ledges o'er ;
Yea, 'tis the passin • shadow, and no more,
0 far blue hills.
-Samuel V. Cole, in The Critic
FOIIGIVENESS,
Tennyeon's touching poem of "My Wife and 1,'
who "fell out' while passing tt rough the field of
corn, is recalled by the following story :
In the house, a big hive of work-peo•
ple, situate in the Rue Delainbre, where:
for six mouths 'Pony Robec had occupied
a'room, everyone thought that ho was a
widower. He could not have been a
widower very long, for his little boy,
Adrien, who lived with hint, and who
was always well cared for, was not more
than six years old. Yet neither of them
wore monruing.
Early every day, Tony Robec, who
was employed as a compositor in a
printing house in the Quartier Latin.
left his room with his child still half
asleep on his shoulder. He left the
little one at school, and called for hits
again at night, when returning from
work. Then they went shopping to-
gether, after which they shut themselves
up in their garret, and nothing more
was seen of them uutd the following
morning.
The kind-hearted gossips were full of
pity for the poor fellow. He couldn't
be more than 40, i.nd was still good-
looking, although sad and pale, and
with silver streaks iu his black beard.
Behind his back they said : "'hat titan
ought to 10 1rry 1ag:aul,"
They wls!:e,l to make his acquaint-
ance. Generally this is not difficult its
such a house, where the tenants live with
open doors. But Tony had a very re•
at served manner, and bowed so distantly
0-
and coldly -although politely -to his
neighbors, when he met thein on the
stairs, that they were afraid to approach
hien,
"No, ladies," said the doorkeeper who
was inclined to be sentimental, "that
widower will never marry again, mark
niy words, The other Sunday I passed
him in the cemetery at Montparnasse.
His wife is doubtless buried there. It
cut me to °the heart to see the poor
man with the motherless little chap at
his -side, He must have doted on Itis
wife."
Certainly Tony had been very devoted
to lois wife, and would not be consoled
now that he had lost her -but he was
not a widower.
His life had been simple, but not by
any means happy. Although a conscien-
tious workman, he was nut particularly
good at his trade, and therefore uncia he
was 30 he had not succeeded in making
a tolerably good living; and could not
think of marrying. When he had resolv-
ed to marry, he ought to have chosen a
sensible, economical wife, %vho had
known want as ice had. But love does
not occupy itself with such trifles. Tony
lost his head over a pretty, light -mind-
ed, light-hearted flower girl of 19, hon-
est, duubtless,•.but frivolous, and think•
ing more of her toilet than of anything
else under the sun. It must be admit-
ted, however. that she could make a
dress out of a few scraps of stuff.
He had saved a little money with
which to start housekeeping. Among
other things he bought a nig cupboard
with a glass door, in which his wife could
admire herself tile whole day.
They were married, and at first lived
very happily. They had two modest
rooms on the fifth floor of a house in the
Boulevard de Port Royal, with a little
balcony from which they had a bird's-
eye view of Paris. Every night, on
leaving work, Tony Robe() disguised his
workman's clothes under a smart over-
coat, and waited for his wife, who pre-
sently appeared from her little booth in
the Rue Saint -Honore, and arm -in -arm
they returned to their humble home.
At last a son was born, and was put
out to nurse. The parents went to sec
him once a fortnight. But at the end of
a year the child died of convulsions.
The parents were, however, soon after-
ward consoled by the birth of little
Adrien. Having had such a sad experi-
ence, Clementine resolved to bring up
the child herself, and gave up her little
shop in order to be able to attend to her
baby: She took in work, but did not
make more than half of what she had
previously earned. Nevertheless, she
continued to dress well. In vain did
Tony work desperately ; the household
became embarrassed and steeped in debt.
When the c!,ild was weaned, he was
sent out during the day to a children's
asylum and tate mother, often unoccu-
pied, became tired of her inactivity.
Just think of her poor husband, old be-
fore itis time, worn out with working
for and worryiug about his giddy, pretta'
wife of 231
,ii
Qua evening, waren Tony. enterE'ed.. the
house, with,'the afield whom he hath, pick«,
ed up at tiro 4aylum Int be )tad paned, he
found, an envelope on the mantelpiece.,
'(rom whiph, when hal _opened it. ;fell
Qienlentine's wedding ring, In .tale :lets.
terhe bade good -by to her husband ilgd
chid, and begged theta` forgiveness,
Tho unfaithful Wife fled In the beegin-
ning of May. At the end of July T6ny
sold the greater part of his furniture in
order to pay his debts, and moved into
the Rue 4:elambre, -
Toward the 04cl of September he re.l
oeived a letter from his wife -four in.
coherent and desperate pages, plentiful-
ly washed with tears -in which she au-
nouncod that she had repented aud fin•
plored pardon. This was all very painful
for Tony, but he was proud, and t
letter remained unanswered,
He heard no more frorn Clernentin
On Christmas Eve he went, as mete I
custom, to the cemetery at Montpar-
nasse, there to place on the grave of his
dead child a few frozen violets and
roses. For the first time Tony went
alone with the ohilal, and, strange as it
may seem, on entering the cemetery he
suffered more poignantly than ever be-
fore from the absence of that wife who
had so cruelly deceived him, "Where
is she now and what is she doing?"
thought he.
On arriving at the grave lie started,for
al the foot of it were strewn several little
playthings such as the noor give to their
children -a trumpet, a jack in the box,
and a whistle. They had evidently just
been placed there, for they were q,lite
new.
"Oh, what pretty playthings 1" cried
little rt
on excitedly. edl
Y• But his father detected
a scrap of paper pinned
to one of the toys, opened it and read :
"For Adrien, from his brother Felix,
who is now with the child Christ."
Suddenly he found the boy pressing
against hind and murmuring "Mumma." .
There, only a few spaces away, under a
clump of cypress trees,knolt the mother.
She was clan in a wretched dress and a
thin shawl. lIer eyes wore sunken, and
her cheeks hollow and pale. She was
looking at her, husband, and her clasped
hands were stretched toward him in sup-
plication.
Tony pushed the boy gently toward
her, saying, "Adrian, go kiss your
mother."
The poor creature strained the child
convulsively to her breast and covered
him with kisses. Then rising and turn-
ing toward her husband, but always
with the air of a suppliant, 8110 said,
,'How good of you 1'
But he, already at her side, said
Luckily, almost harshly, "Don't talk.
Take any arm." ,
It is not far from 'line cemetery to the
Rue Defambre and they walked quickly
and without Iiluttering a word. The
child engros4ed in his neevly-found trea-
sure, trotted along at their side, think -
i ng only of bis toys.
When they reached the house the
door -keeper was standing on the steps.
"Madain," saki Ton y to her, "this is
my wife. She has beau six months iii
the country with her mother, wlio was
ill, and now she has conte back to live
with rete."
When they reached the room Tony
made his wife sit dovtu in the only arm
chair, placed the boy in her lap, and
opened a drawer from which he took an
old cardboard box. •Out of this he took
the wedding ring, which he pressed ori%
his wife's finger. Then, without a word(r
of reproach or bitterness about the sor-
rowful past, silently, gravely, with the
overflowing generosity of a simple child-
like heart, he gently pressed his lips to
lien forehead as the seal of forgiveness.
-Romance.
WILL BE A BLESSING,
A Telephone Dw1ca That Shows a Licht
AV'hen Talk Stops.
The person who uses a telephone and
hangs the receiver up without "ringing
off" can have no idea to what extent his
action works upon the mind of Miss
Central and suggests to her the hiring of
a than to say things for her. There are
also things to be said on behalf of the
ratan whom !Hiss Central cuts off in the
middle of a sentence ; but perhaps most
of these things have been said already.
An invention now being tested by the
Metropolitan Telephone and Telegraph
Co., of this city, which is expected to do
away witlt "ringing off." This device
consists of a miniature incandescent
lain!) in front of the Operator, which
flashes whenever a receiver is hung up
after the completion of a conversation.
It was said by President C utter, of the
telephone company, that the device it
working very web and may be adopted
for use on all the swttci)Uoards of the
company. -New York Sun.
The Greatest Happiness,
How little the human mind is able to
grasp and retain, after all. So •called
'great minds" are really those which
give, rather than receive. But to give
eve must first receive and tine greatness
00)008, in reality, through acaptcity to
receive and retain knowledge or power,
A monarch may appear great in the
eyes of the world; but his mind may be
as small, warped and perverted as that
of a South Sea Islander, and his great-
ness may be alone in name. The man
or woman who serves you in the most
mental and common things of lite may
have the mind of a master, but because
of the lack of proper cultivation its rich-
ness and beauty may perhaps never be
known to the world. To think properly
is an. art which few men have ever mas-
tered. To combiue one's thought and
work to certain individual lines and
channels will in course of time warp
ant( narrow the mind ; but still
there are many examples in which the '
world has been benefited by just such
narrowness. Once possessed of an
honest thirst for knowledge the
earnest student -no matter in what
field or fields his line of thought and
study may be- will reach out, strive,
search and labor to acquire more know-
ledge than his neighbor. And still there
is a danger even in groat learning. The
student inay become not only narrow,
but selfish and distrustful of otltets, lest
they should rob hien of that which he
has. Instead of spreading abroad that
which gives him the keenest pleasure
and delight lie hoards it as a miser
hoards his gold, guarding it by day and
night as a treasure which he considers
his own. Such minds do not make the
world better, Once acquired it should
be not only a pleasure but a duty for
learned men or women to spread broad-
cast their knowledge, so that the whole
world could enjoy with them that which
nature had permitted them to possess.
The greatest happiness comes from ileo•
greatest giving, and it should not m ttter
whether that which is given be gold or
knowledge. Both are dear to the hmnan.
mind and heart. ,