The Exeter Advocate, 1891-1-1, Page 2A nullebn,
(flugono Field in Chicago News.)
Inn*ken'rd04 and Nod tine nigh,t
§oaledO in a weoden shoe,
Sailed on o eiveeQ iniety light
Into a boa of dew.
Where are you going, and what do'fyou, wiSli ?
•The Old moon asked or the three.
WO /lave COI110 to Dal fOX the herring tiak
That live in the beautiful Witt ;
Islets of silver and gold have we,
' Said Wyakeu,
Blynken
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And N'od is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that Ailed the shies
1S a wee one's trundle hod )
So shut your eyes, weile mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
,flad you, shall see the beautiful things
" As you reek on the misty SOS,
Where the old shoo reeked the fishermen three,
Wynken• ,
Blynkep,
And Nod.
"LAST CENTURY L OURS,
A Tale of the .A.nierioan.
Revolution.
The pale water blended with the sky, and
in the shadows by the verde.nt meedows
the tremulous willows shadowed the dilver
rihples that, with the air and sky, grew
brighter and more alive, until one leery
eureka, and then another, ourled through
the water, and the waving sheet became a
broad path. ot gold. Over the eastern delds
and woods, the lowlying farm-housee and
roofs of the village the sun roe. The mist
geese golden; berds sang; the farm -yard
became noisy, and Mammy called on from
the kitchen window that breakfast would
aeon he ready, so Betty ran away to her
room to dress.
After breakfast Miss Bab, who was
suffering from a bee•sting on her eye•lid,
hotthiced and bandaged until her head had
a most one-sided and groteeque appearance
said to Betty:
"Child, au I look too monstrous ill to go
to church, and cannot see, pray you come
into the garden and reed thee ohurohnervien
to me, that this holy day may not pass un-
noted."
They both went out and sat on a bench
in the shade a a laurel bush, quaintly and
fantasticially clipped. Under foot the grass
was fresh and bright where the sunlight fell
on it, and on the gay beds of poppies and
tulips, nodding in the breeze that swayed
the tine tops into a sunlit tremor of shim-
mering green.
Blue sky, blue water, a breeze that
seemed the blueness of heaven in motion,
through which the butterflies reeled like
incarnate sunbeams. No wonder that the
day seemed to Betty like re rose unfolding
in siveetness, and bearing in its yet hidden
heart a golden secret, and that the printed
ritual was less like worship than jaat to sit
in silent happiness, thanking God for the
beauty that entered through every sense.
She was so very inattentive and in such
a gale of spirits that Mies Bab—who said
that the very sight ot her gazing around
was a distraotion—banished her behind the
bush, when her voice name suspiciously like
Dr. Wells'. When at length, at the exhort-
ation, Miss Bab heard, instead of "Dearly
beloved brethren," " Dearly. beloved Bar-
bara, the sprit moveth us, etc.," and look-
ing up, saw Betty's face dimpling through
a triangular opening ant in the bush, she
was obliged, perforce, to laugh herself.
"1 protest that you would make a very
• poor preacher, Betty. You are as fly.away
as thistleelown. What ails you ? "
"1 do not know what it is, but I feel as
if this day would never come to an end, as
if woul& last forever. Did you ever feel
emeleht, woy when you where young, Bab ?"
"It fle, so long ago that I cannot recall it,
but I never was so sprightly and gay as you
are. No, child, I am glad that the day will
come to a close, and my life also, to go, I
• hope, to a fairer day than this."
Betty, in the fullness of her young life,
could understand that Mies Bab should
feel thus, she looked so fragile and worn, so
little in keeping with the freshness around.
Then her aunt having as Miss Stacy said,
"washed up the dishes," began to repeat
poetry.
"There is a sweet poem of George Here
bert's that speaks well of earthly beauty :
'emade a posie while the day ran by;
Here will I wear the remnant out and tie
My life within this band.
But time did beckon to the flowers, and they
By noon most cunningly did steal away,
And withered in my hand.
Farewell, dear flowers, sweetly your time ye spent,
Fit, while ye lived, for smell or ornament,
• And after death for cures.
I follow straight without conaulaint or grief,
Since, if ray scent be good, I care not if
It be as short as yours.'
"Now that," continued Miss Bab, "i9
what I call good, sensible poetry:
wit, while ye lived, for smell or ornament,
And after death for cures.'
There's religion and sensibility and
useful information! It is pleasant to think
how many useful simples and remedies I
shall call from these same fair flowers.
Now, there are dried camomile and balm for
teas co be given to feverish bodies, and tansy
tea for infants in convulsions; there's rue
and tansy to purify the air, and peppermint
—the nee of which is well known; besides
marjoram and sage for condiments, and
lilies that, mixed with lard, make a delight-
• ful pomatum."
Betty, lying on the grass, feeling as small
as a red lady•bug climbing up a olovenleaf,
in view of the Immensity of blue space
above, where the tall poplar was lost and
dwarfed, heard nothing of Bab's utilitarian
designs upon her pets. She was thinking
that she could almost hear the roots of the
grass and the flowers in the earth under
her, reach to each other and pass on the
message: "Keep on growing."
Along the sward, to the right' of a dia.
mond. eh aped plot, where r ale and white and
yellow tulip; grew in altertaate rows. like
the little maids in the garden of "Mistress
Mary, quite contrary,' she mold see the
space under the hollow of a huge box -bush
where, when she was a little girl, had stood
her doll -house. She remembered how, once,
when she bad dressed her rag dolls in their
best, and arranged them or a ball, the had
returned to find them with their indefinite
throats ont and stained with pokeberry
juice, the vietims of o red measure, which
the culprit, Tom; would never confess, save
by implication in the way of various gratu-
itous and reparatory offices. He had been
a gad dere-devil to have grown so oddly
grave of late.
"Bab,' said 13etty," do you know, some.
thing IS going to happen to•day. I feel it
in my hones."
"'Yee, and, east" gni, you will feel sonem
thing elite in your bores ere long—a twinge
of the ticsdoefoureux. The earth ie as yet
• fUll of the cold and damp of winter, end
goodness know how math of it may tot
peening into your body. I will havet
you t bed and admitister a lira -tight
botehoittd tea. Rise, child, there is the
Oast chetah -hell. Go end dross; yea must
he astragal noe to miee divine serviere, as no
one else iri the family hi to attend."
4' Oh, Bab, t believe that you think thett
yen and and Lintat Clem have one family
eon', which is under My chaege today."
"Earth, I will not beer' any Such light
talk. If, you see Tom or Will, ash then a to
come to tea; and Betty, be certain to
remember Dr, Welis'e text and sernaon to
tell= when you COMO home, and to notice
whe is at ehurob—but don't let diet hihder
yo a freta beiog devout,"
On that memorable occasion Betty waa
attired in a Drawn -colored detusek gown,
figured with bOuquete of Mee, whioh ehe
had taken for the nret tine from the chest°
where it load lain in press, folded in rein
leaves. It was worn without hoops, and
ooped over a petticoat of the seme, that
hung in fall folds to her ankles, The
tightly-fietting bodice was iinialled by et,
lerge muslin neckerchief, tenderly veiling
her rounded throat and. bosom. The mitts
that ehould have been on her hands and
arms were marled in her prayerhook,
Betty deolering thet they need° her feel
" all tied up, like a oralin a
Her faoe, canoe of gretest anxiety, criti•
pally scanned under the shade of the large
fiat hat of yellow gauze, trimnaed with
bows of pink and green ribbons, met, for
once, with her approval, for either the
winter or the dew had proved efficacious,
and it was free from freckles—as fair and
clear as the lilies on her bream
"Thank gooduess I an pretty! " Betty
thought, though she dm not realize her
ideal beauty, which was something tell and
blonde and languishing • the style of heroine
then in vogue.
(To be continued)
LA BEINE BLANCHE.
White Ilfourning Worn by a Tot of a
Queen.
In sharp °entreat to the folly shown in
the English Court mourning is the good
sense exhibited by the Queen Regent ot
Holland, who has given out her decision
that her daughter, the small sovereign de
facto of the Low Countries, shall not be
swathed in 'crape and sable garments unbe-
fiting her tender years. The little Princess
has always worn white hitherto, and she is
to wear it still. In cold weather soft
woolen materials of sunny hue, in summer
pretty ohildish frocks of muslin or lace,
have been her daily raiment, and the only
difference now will be that lane and guipure
will be superseded by white batiste at
throat and wrists, or by a delicate plaiting
of soft, white crepe Hine. And out of doors
she will exchange her lighhoolored pelisses
trimmed with blue fox for black velvet
bordered with black fox or bear. At State
ceremonies the little Queen will wear a veil
of old lace, and, when she goes for her
usual walks and drives, a large round hat
of Louis XIII. fashion in black otter. All
this is in accordance with ancient angoras
of the country, and Queen Emma shows
her good sense in reviving these, rather
than euveloping her little girl in gloomy
mourning.
More Polar Excursions.
The year 1892 will be signalized by two
more attempts to reach the North Pole.
One of these well be made by Dr. Newsom
of Norway, who is now .preparing for the
trip. He has been in the arctic regions
before, and has outlined a plan whioh, he
hopes, will throw new light upon that
frigid and desolate part of the world. But
the most novel enterprise will be that ot
two French scientists, Messrs. Besancon,
an aeronaut, and Gustave Hermit, an
astronomer, men of fortune, who propose
to pass to or over the North Pole in a
balloon, etarting from Spitzbergen. Their
air ship will be specially constructed for
the voyage, having an inner and an outer
balloon designed to preserve the pure
hydrogen gas with which the bags will be
filled. A row of 16 small balloons will
encircle the large one and carry a reserve
of gas. The oar will be enclosed and will
be equipped with every appliance for
observation and cemforte 1
Blanchard's Brain.
Montreal Gazette : The brain of Man -
chard, the murderer who was hanged at
Sherbrooke on Friday, was forwarded to
the MoGill University pathological labors.
tory for examination . by Dr. Johnston, the
pathologist. He reports it normal in
weight, and that ite appearance bears out
the verdict of death by strangulation ren-
dered by the jury who sat on the case. The
upper segrnente of the vertebral column
were also +met ;n by Dr. McKee, a former
graduate ol.
A Treat For the Old Girl.
Edith—Young Mr. Goodfeller just kissed
Betty Prim ander the mistletoe.
Blaud—He was always a kind-hearted
chap!
TIM Supreme Court of Michigan has just
upset a decisiou of a lower court in refer-
ence to the civil rights of colored people.
The Supreme Court ruled that
In lItiohigan there must be and is an abso-
lute unconditional equality o white and colored
men before the law. The white man can have
no rights or privileges under the law that are
denied to the black man. Socially people may
do as theyplease within the law, and whites
may associate together, as may black's, -iand
exclude whom they please from their dwellings
and private grounds. But there can be no
separation in public places between people on
account of their color alone which the law will
sanction.
Cases were cited where it had been held
that separate oars, schools, eto„ may be
orovided for colored persona. To this
Judge Morse quoted the civil rights statute
of Michigan, and replied: "Under it no
line can be drain in the streets, public
parks or public buildings, on one side of
which the black man must stop and stay,
while the white man may enjoy the other
side or both sides at his will and pleasure;
nor can such a line of separation be drawn
in any of the public places mentioned in
the Act."
A new departure has been made in
periodicel literature in the form of a
quarterly entitled " The Critical Review of
Theological and Philosophical Literature."
Edited by Prof. e S. D. F. Salraond, of
Edinburgh.
Mormon is going through an experience
somewhat akin to that of Hamilton some
time ago when she was held up to the gaze
of the world as the wickedest city in
Canada. The Montreal Law and Order
League has issued a pamphlet or circular
giving the oity the hardest kind of a ohar.
foster. The Chief of Police pronounces the
charges of the League grosaly exaggerated
and the Gazette says " There is not the
elightest doubt that the Chief is correct.
There is no reason to believe that there is
anything like an approach to the number
of places set down by the League choler
in either of the classes to which it refers,
and its publication mnet be regarded as a
mistake, very damaging to the reputation
of Montteal, whieh, while far from what
it should be, and not all thet it might
be made, is not worse than the majority
of cities of US eize, nd ia mnoh better than
eeme."
Th'e Road Committee of Quebec city has
decided to erect a solid well 300 feet long,
40 feet high end 30 booed at the place where
the catastrophe ocourred itt Champlain
street, in September, 1888.
In Cincinnati's thirtyttwo cemeteries
400,000 dead sleep.
"Polities ire a lotteey," wrote the editor,
and hie edition wee promptly thrown out of
the mails' by the postmaster, under the hew
against advertising lOtterien. There is eat
in printing anything abent tot"e wife,
eVeinee-Ex.
AN ENIXPECTED CHRISTMAS •BOX,
A BTORY IN TelleEE 01:1APIBRS
1dee 8t. Holland.
CHAPTER 1.
A TILLEGRAK volt 24118. 131711T014.
"11 ain't no good •oryine I oWelt
Saunders; leastwaye it can't help poor
Mire Ella's baby, nor poor Miss Ella her.
self, lyin' dead far away, hot it do belp ODO
ter bear doh trouble as the good Lord has
sent ter me this bleeeed Obrietmee Eve."
Saunders, the butler, shook leis head son
rowfully. What hie fellow -servant said
was too true; it was a great trouble which
had come to her, and to him too this
Christmas Eve. A letter, a s'aort, unsex.
poted missive had oast gloom and anxiety
over their patho. Lives of old and trusted
eervants in the home of a liberal, indulgent
master are generally peeled without much
worry; end trouble seemed all the harder
when it did arrive in the shape of thet
black -edged letter from the Mr west, which
Saunders, for about the tenth time,
smoothed out and read to the housekeeper,
Mrs. Barton. '
DEAR MADAni,—Mrs. Aubrey passed away this
morning at 4 o'clock. She gave me your
address, and told me you were :the only friend
she had. She leaves it dear little girl, whom she
requests the Sisters to send to your care.
Through the kindness of friends of my own I
have collected a sufdoient sum to pay the child's
expenses to your address. I have had the care
of Mrs. Aubrey through her illness, brought on,
I do not doubt, by hard VOTE, for which she was
totally unfitted, and Jack of °roper food and
clothing. Her child, thanks to the devoted
mother's exertion and self-denial, is well and
strong. Mrs. Aubrey left enough money to de-
fray the expenees or her burial, which will take
place to -morrow. You may expect little Elia
Aubrey to arrive not later than Christmas Eve.
I will send her safely by express, and wire you
when and where to meet the dear little orphan,
of whom even in the short week I have been
doing duty here as visiting nurse I have become
Very fond.
With hopes that the good Master will lighten
your grief at my sad news, I remain, yours " in
His dear name, SISTER GERTRUDE.'
The date was a week before; the letter
had arrived on the very day the child
might be expected. Just as Miss Burton
was drying her eyes after the last rending,
a ring came to the area bell.
" Telegram for alra. Burton," bawled
the boy messenger londy.
Yes, there it was, sure enough.
Meet little irl at 480, 42nd street depot,
Buffalo express. SISTER GERTRUDE.
Mrs. Burton stared at the Mock, the
hands pointed to & quarter to 3. What
was she to do? Saunders tapped her on
the shoulder, " Say, misses," he send
excitedly," I got it, ask Mr. Norton's leave
to keep her here over the holiday week.
She's your niece, do you eee !"
"Ab 1 but Saunders ter deceive the old
gentleman. No, no, 1 for one can't do ik"
" Bat you must," peraiated the man
excitedly.
" Theres no piece ter take her on Guth
short notice, what eon% do with her any.
way, passes my knowledge, but just for
onee we'll have ter fool the old gentleman."
Thus persuaded, Para. Barton left the
room and slowly climbed the stairs to the
library, where, all alone, surrounded by all
that wealth could purchase, sat the master,
before whom Mrs. Burton, after making
her very best bow, stood, and told her first
untruth to the' old gentleman she revered
and respected.
"Ob, Saunders," she wailed, on her re-
turn to the housekeeper'ssenotum'"1
never had *doh et task. He smiled so k,ind
like when I auked for the child ter hale"
and he gave me a dollar, too, to beer her
(=dies. Dear me, dear mel However
coned Miss Ella deceive a father like he is.
But he'll never forgive her. Oh, that poor
lamb. What will become of it? But I'd
lose my place if ever I mention Bliss Ella
again, so he said Met time I spoke for her
to him."
" Yes, I know that too well," replied
Saunders, slowly. "He sez ter me last
time 1 spoke—ter please you, you'll re.
•
member Mrs. Burton—livin' or dead,
Saunders, sez he, I never want to hear of
Miss Ella again. She made her choice, I
take my ohoice, which is, Never
to hear of her more.'" "My,
'tie an awful thing," amid the
old butler, in an awed tone, " to hear
a parent speak those words, and Miss Ella
such a favorite before that Antsey got hold
of her. Poor soul; poor young lady. No
mother to warn her —her dear head turned
by flattering, yet I'd rather be Saunders,
the butler, than the old gentleman upstairs,
with all his money, when the Lord softens
his hard heart, and he knows that his only
child died of want and hard work. Eh !
but its a queer world, a queer world.
Wonder if the child is like her poor ma 2
Beauty is a bad thing, say I."
Saunders talked away in this strain for
fully half an hour, never noticing the
fact that Mrs. Burton had left the room,
in truth had long since left the hbuse, and
was well on the way to 42nd street to meet
the little girl, her kind heart beating with
sorrow for the dead mother, and pity and
anxiety for the orphan. Mrs. Iturton had
lived at Mr. enorton's ever since his only
child Ella had been born. Her mother, who
died at her birth, ,Her
given her
in Miss Brirtonet care then to bring up,
and feithfully had the housekeeper fulfilled
the trust.. After Mie a Norton had de.
serted her father and her beautiful home
for the scoundrel, who, in turn had
deaerted her and her infant, Miss Barton
had used all her influence to effect a recoil -
ciliation between father and daughter, but
in vain. Miss Ella was dead to him, the
old gentleman insisted. Then, at last, it
°me to the stern order, "Cease on that
subject, Miss Burton, or leave my employ,"
and the old housekeeper, with sinking
heart,, hold her peace, though she knew
that far away the once petted, beloved
daughter of the house, toiled and faded—
worn by the bitter struggle of untaught
hands with poverty and privation. it was
all over for b‘er now; the bitterness, the
repentance of wrong -doing. But helpleee
and hornelees, there remained the innocent
victim of the mother' e folly—a mite, a
speck on the great waves of a oold world's
colder charity --a little innocent, trusting
child.
CHAPTER IL
And such a "Christmas box 1"
Buffeted, pushed and elbowed, puffing and
panting like the locomotive which had just
pulled in the Buffalo exprees, Mrs. Burton
tie Met reaohed than part of the platform
adjoining the baggage oer'where she hoped
to find the express percel she expected,
"The dreadful thing to be atom; and tip in
years in a crowd," else gasped, drawing the
attention of the expresnagent himself, who
was pealing from one oar platform to
another apparently looking for tome ono.
Well, old lady," he said jocosely,
"What ails you; can is feller do anything
for you 2" ,
"Its a thild I'm seeker,* sir! A child by
express. Can you tell me whitest to go 7
Burton is my tame."
"Oh bo!" exclaimed the agent, you're
all right, What'e the matter with • that
exprode paokage ?"
Lee etutsped from the plonk= of the or
and invited Afro. Burton to follow him ;.ho
elbowed his way to the drawing -room oar,
and aseieting the old woman to mount the
steps, entered ti3e or after her.
• "Hereto yonr Christmas box, madam,
and sech it Chrietmast box e to good for
an express oar you bet, fit for a Priapism in
a fairy tale. Here little Misfile,
here's some one come for you 1"
Two great brown eyes looked itt Mrs.
Burton from out a lovely oval baby face,
framed in a tangle of golden curls; two
rosy lips were held up to be kneed, and a
baby voice said fearlesely, delightedly :
1' Thee tum ter New 'Ork ter see Mr.
Santa Teas au' all der dollies, Mama
touldn't tune, for marnals done up wit der
angele. Some day I will dos ter wiv, wif
marna—nOW 1"
The express agent turned away his head
and hummed e tune. .Mrs. Burton wept
great easy °heir that itteed the Oloteire ot
hie wife, for the first time notioiog thee
Sauudero had oubetituted a wreeth of holly
for the urinal laurel circlet..
"Oh! •my dear one," the old gentleman
Oahe aloode right well does holly become
your geutle benuty. Would that you could
come back ate viriit no this Cbristmes Eve.
Year atter year I wait to be called to your
side. Lonely, wretolied old man thee I
am; miserable in my riohee end pros-
perity. Speak, oh! kpeak once, my Qwat
to your husband, waiting SO long tit see you
On00 more." '
Did the ivy leaves elauddet ; hilla 30tt,
drowsy hum beem to ffil the room? A
voice, yes, a voioe epolte. It was the spirit
ef the Christmas holly.
" Lonely and wretched 1 aye, creek
unfergiving ; miserable, aye, and revenge.
ful. I have come; I have heard thy coon
audibly, hugging the new arrival spetsmoch.. plaint e I ees thy loneliness, but pity thee
°ally. not!"
." She's told us that all the way," the The clock on the.ixtentel tioked on as the
nem said at length. " Blees her heart 1 yoke paused.
she's n daisy regular pee,. madam ; pas. Cruel lonely! cruel lonely! " it
sengers just heaped presents on her all the twinned to Rey in corroboration of the
way. No, madam," refusing a modest tip spirit's words: Thy Wend, thy oely
offered by Mrs. Burton ea a alight tempi. child, where is she thia eve of joy and
tem of his evident kindness, to the child; blessing; the child trusted to thy care by
"no, thanks all the 'tame. rye kids of my her, whose innocent face I frame, where I
own, thud feel for a stray lamb like this say is. thy child ?"
one. Give us a kiss; good-bye, little "She left me; left minter a scoundrel;,
Christmas box; we'll be quits." left me, her father, for such as he," moaned
And it was a kiss that little Christ- the old man.
mas Box as the passengers had named her, "The letters for pardon; the pleas for
gave to her whilora friend, before she took pity; for help in her poverty; for bread
Mrs. Barton's hand, or rather fat fore- for her little child, your grandchild, had
finger, in her little chubby fist, and looked they no effect upon thy hard heart? She
away to the street cars, as she fondly hopctd sinned, but she repented ; where is she
ana as had been impressed on her for the now ? "
lest five days by sympathieing travelling "Dead! dead 1 dead!"' solemnly ticked
companions, to see Santa Claus. the clock. "Pity, pity," Bobbed the old
Mrs. Bartores heart failedher is she man ; "1 heve Mimed, I will forgive; leave
looked at the ohild ; "the living image of me in peace."
Miss Ella," she said over and over again. "Too late!, too late! Thou hese tarried
"What will Mr. Norton say it he nee too long in forgiving. Heinen to repair thy
her ? " ' • cruelty, before h is too late, indeed 11
" Keep her out of the old 'gentleman's 'Too late! too late 1" tielted the clock
sight, Misses, or we're ruined," was mournfully.
Saunders' verdict, as he wiped a tear from With a 'tingle and whirr out °prong
hie kind old eyes, when be save the little • the cuckoo from its place in the
figure in black whioh Mrs. Burton led hall clock to call nine. Mr.
triumphantly into the sanctum. "Bless Norton started from the dream he had
me 1 it's Miss Ella henna twenty years indulged in. Ah 1 it we,s a dream, after
ago ; anyone would know who the child all. He took off his glasses and rubbed his
belongs to by one look 1" thereby adding eyes. Surely he was awake now! No; he
by these remarks' to Mrs. Burton's anxiety could not be, Everything was all wrong ;
in no smell degree. ' it was twenty years ago, and there etooa
"And by ther way, Grriffiin' " to the hie little Ella—come to say good night,
footmenewho paused the door atthe same jest as she used to 1 Yee, she wae miming
moment, "dont forget ter light up in ther to climb on his knee to give him that good -
reception rooms to•night et dusk. M. night kiss bathed missed for many a lone
Norton's very particular about that on day. Then a child's voice spoke and brolet'e
Christmas eve, they're•enly lighted onoe a the spell, but it wife his Ella's voios—the
year, and then, by jingo, it's lighted they voice of his long -lost daughter.
are." Lowering his voice, he continued to " Please tell me ware is Santa Taus?
elre Barton "I've bought ther wreath rife looted an' looted, but he ain't any
as uenal ; I hope the 011 gentleman won't p'sce."
be offended, but it's English holly this "Who are yon? Where did you come
time; it looked so fine, with its red berries from 7 Surely I'm dreaming 1" said Mr.
and ehiny leaves'I told ther florist he'd Norton, paesing his hand over his face,
take it. My ! What pleasure the poor trying to collect hie thoughts, upset by the
old gentleman finds in sienna all alone strange dream he had just indulged in.
Chestnuts eve in these grand', lonesome "Who are you, pray 2"
rooms, I can't make out. Furniture nn- " Ilse Ewie; peas is dis heben, sue is
covered, lights blazin', and ther wreath my mama hero? I t'ant fine Santa Tans;
around Mrs. Norton's picture and him 1 wants my mama so bad 1"
a-walkin' up and down, uo and down like Tearimailed the big brown eyes. Ewie
a caged prisoner." was awed by the grand room and the stern
"Yea," retorted Mrse Burton, as eho took old man, who heeled at her so strangely.
her keys down from their usual place, "and With one chubby fist rubbing her eyes she
pore Miss Ella cold and deed, far away; advanced, and to Mr. Morton's great
this pore lamb he will never own to, I astoniehment climbed unaided upon his
know," and she pointed tragically to the lap, where, carling herself up comfortably,
Christmas box, curled up on the sofa, she regarded bira fixedly with leer brown
sound asleep, "homeless and friendless eyes, in which great tears had gathered. ,
all but you and me, &welders, and ue but No one had ever been cross to the child;
humble friends for such as she." everyone was a friend. ,
"Well, it ain't no gond lamenting, s. "Ewie don't wiles de big bed all 'lots;
Barton, as I've said before, the Lord Ewie come ter see merna. Don't oo went
looks after His own Iambs, and bless her, Ewie, too ? "
He'll look after this poor orphan and 'Mre Marton .atarted. Whitt `name was
provide her with a home." marked on the child's coarse white gown ?
The evening closed in. Little Elate, as Ella Morton Aubrey, in plain, route obar-
he called herself, • was carefully bathed enters. He knew it—her face, bar hair,
and attired for bed by good Mrs. Burton, her voice 1 Ho did not apart thethild ; he
assisted by the peeler maid, who had held her closer. His dream had softened
fallen a complete conquest to Mrs. Burton's the hard heart at last '• the dretin and the
baby niece, as the eervants all firmly trust of a little innoctent child.eAud above
believed her to be. Then, after depositing the Spirit of the Holly beennit upon the
the little white robed darling in the house. pair, and the sweet young Woe in the pito
keeper's bed, the maid listened for a time tore seemed to emile as oven the original
to the child's even breathing, soon assur- had smiled in days long peen " Peaoe,
ing Mrs. Barton that her charge was peace," ticked the choke in unison.
Bound asleep, the two departed to the " Peace, peace" ; and tht master sat on,
servants' dining -room to have a cheerful smoothing the golden hair until the little
chat and supper with their fellow -workers Christmas Box fell fashasleep.
to celebrate the evening. - * * *
In truth Eloie had not submitted to Dire was the ode ternation that pre.
the perting operation with the best of veiled when good a. Barton found her
grace. She had come -to "Now Ork " bed empty and her/pretty bird flown.
to see Santa Clans, and no anoh In the midet of the confusion Mr. Non
person had she seen. She was not sleepy. ton's bell rang, one Saunders, who always
She miesed the excitement of the brilliantly answered the bee in the evening, hastened
lighten °ere, the change and bustle of at its call. s
travel. Her sleep in the twilight on the This was hinnews to Mrs. Barton on his
big comfortable sofa had left her wide retarn :
awoke. But the little ely boots lay quietly " Bless ran:heart 1 there was the old
in the soft bed, where the maid hall tacked gentleman &sitting with that dear baby
her in, liatened to the retreating footsteps sound asleep in his arms. Sez he, • Stun -
of the two who had ministered to her, and dem,' sez he, ' Send Mrs. Burton ter me
laid long quietly looking around her new immediate, an' you'll please have a room
quarters at what objects the low -turned gas prepared for this young lady, who, I've no
threw into comparative relief. Nearly, an doubt, has a good right to be here, hedging
hour passed, daring whioh, unknown to the by looks.' j
child, the maid peeped in at the door, and Yon're eight, sire sin I; and then he
slipping away, reported to Mrs. Burton smiled like he hasn't smiled sincelefiss Ella
that all was quiet, "The baby's sleeping ran away. God bless her, Saunders,' says
beautiful," to that good soul's great relief. he, somebody has sent a poor lonely old
So the jollifioation in the lower dining- man a Christmas box, and he is thankful
room eh:weeded with uninterrupted enjoy- indeed for "
ment. On this evening Mr. Norton " Saunden," said Mrs.Barton, eolemniy,
'expected his employees to have e good time: " It's all come of that English holly. I
for his part, he only asked to be left in used ter beer tell when I was a gal in the
aolitude, to the company of his own old °puttee that its full of spirits, and they
thoughts, as he walked up and ean do woedeee I"
down the .long, brilliantly lighted e Muff Mad nonsense, old lady," growled
suites of rooms, where once feet now still Saunders, but tileoleehowe think he will
had walked, where vetoes now silent had always believeinhe Spirits of the Holly.
echoed, where from the place of honor on
the wall, the face of his fair young wife • Kept Him on the Roll. .
of nearly a quarter of a century ago looked
down on him from out of the wreath of A shoet time ago a prominent resident
holly, tenderly placed round the 'gilded of Brooldyn wag found to be a forger. Fee
,fwas a member of Plymouth Chorale, end,
rame by the old butler at his master's
before his sentence, wrote to the pastor
°r(l't Swiss cuckoo cloak in the hall amok admitting his crime and declaring his
8, the Smaller cloak on the mantel joining repentknoe. Then he went to his place of
imprisonment. When the ohne& was
softly in the din; a little figure in white
called. upon to act on the letter it was
skipped softly out of the housekeeper's resoleed that the criminal's name should
-sanctum into the hall. remain on the rolls of the church as -one in
small figure said to herself. " Eloie won't
Santa Taus," t',t11° full taembership. Plymouth Church con-
" Dm dein' ter fine
gregition has courage se well as a large
lie in a big, big bed all 'lone." •shaie of the spirit of the religion it teaches.
The light from the hall above drew her. —Montreal Herald. •
attention—it was dimly lighted below—so i
barefoot, and daring, one of Mrs. Burton's An Opinion.
largo blacle stockings, hugged in hex fat
New York Herald : "What do you think
Anne, which said at:lotting had been hong of Job?"
by he owner to await the arrival of the I think," replied the quack, "that he
expected Santa Clam, the little 4 .year.old Would have got more petients if he had
explorer elirebed the Stairs which led to eggerheehe,
Ben Norton's solitery retreat. She sat
down on the topmost step to gaze in wonder No fewer than five European countries
at the fairyland , tho hall presented to her are at the preeent time governed by regents
thieocustomed oyes. Beeutifill Stattlary, __Hollane, Spain, Bavaria, Servia, and
brass work of intricate design, oft rirg,s
hrtinewick. The monarchs of three of
and totter divans—not to speak of that them are children of tender 'years. Ring
vuaetfai°1a"c.k—llilighteabtbetAinrSi8Yeago;
eorcdlightfroma°zentinagl°b:QuteWlherminaiOf Holland, ala
were new and strange to the little alien,. King Alexender, of Servia, fourteen.
She clapped her chubby 'hands' gles,
geeieg nem and quietly itt the emeeentea The inquest cm the body of natrieknagey
eighth herself the oyeeheet, object of there twas (emelat tem Totonte Pollee Court yea-
etday, wt en the jury returned a verditit to
the effect that deceased °thee to his death
CHAPTER IIL as the resale -of violence from the hands of
• " 711DOING 73V MORS." , pattiOS unknoWn.
Tired with walking the length of Oolong Mr. Laurier anti Mr, ri(sher, U. P. for
taparmenta, weary of hi own gloomyBorne speak at CharloteetoWle, P. E.,
eh/nightsM
', r. Norton thted himselfeinto a
VI 'a t
wawa IS win norm=
,x would •Take So/ °awn or $auclio Vallee en
Decide.
At 4, o'oloole yesterdey afternoon, Judge
eetoseaer Mph up a pose which bids tsir to
give him the greatest puzzle of he lite, and
whioh he nlay hale° to toes up cent or
play a game of eevenuto weth himself ta
decide. It is a 'ease of disputed pereotagee
It leappene quite frequently that dispuitere
aria° ao to who ie the father of offspring, bat
it is very rare that two women will swear
that they each, eeparetely and individually1
gave birth to the Berne obild. 11 has been,
considered, and with pretty good reason,
that one single, solitary, lone child ot
either sex or of any oolor cannot be bout
of two separate and dietinot mothers. Yet
ouch is the testimony now before the
judge, and no his experience in the affairs
appertaining to matrimony is presumed to
be confined to the leas than two yeara od
his married life, it is fair to preaume that
the ow before him will prove something
of a conundrum.
Mrs. Wm. Moran, whorie husband was es
bartender at the Moteterthy road houae, got
a writ of habeas corpus to determine her
right to the poeseselon of Annie Duggan.
She swore that she gave birth to the girt
at the House of Providence, Aug. 4th, 1887:
andmalled it Annie Duggan because ita
father's name ia Duggan A oouple of
weeka later a Mrs, Corbet oame to the
house and asked her to give the child to
Mrs. (Sorbet's sister, Dire. Elizabeth Mun-
dary. She did so but gave no papers of
adoption. Lately she heard that the child
•was not being well oared for and went ta
get it, but Mrs. Mundary refused to let her
have it. She Raid that the child had en
mole on ito temple, but Mrs. Mundary had
cut it off, leaving a ticar. The family living
in the risme house nwith the Mandel:ye
swore that the child was two or three
weeks old when they first saw it, and
that it was brought there by Mks. Moran,
they thought. A Bire. Donnelly swore
'that she went to Mra. Mundary's with
Mrs. Moran, and that Mrs. Mundary
first claimed that the child Walk
dead, but finally came dbwn and tried to
have 2/In:Moran go and make out adop-
tion papers, but Mrs. Moran would not.
Mrs. Mundary then swore that she gave
birth to the child Novetiber 3rd, 1887, and
she never obtained a baby from her sister.
Mrs. Moran or anybody else. In Mot, this
is the only baby she ever had. She did not
call a dootor till ten days after the birth,
when she called Dr. Smith, and the onlyr
witnesses of the birth were her husband;
and two women now in Dakota. Her hus-
band corroborated her story and produced
pieture of the child taken when it was
six weeks old.
Judge Hosraer said that the piotara
looked like a young imago of Mundary.
Dr. Smith thought the child was a week or
two old when he saw it, and he thought he
could identify it now. Everybody swore
to the mark on the temple, and the hedge
continued the ease unto. 4 p. m. to -day,
when the child is to be produced and com-
pared with its numerous progenitors.—
Detroit News.
Ho Took It Literally.
A commercial traveller, representing a
prominent Glasgow firm, was compelled
by circumstances to stay over Sunday in
a email ounof.the-vvay town in South
Lanarkshire. The day was very wet .and
dispiriting, confining the traveller to hie
hotel pearly all day, but towards evening
the weather cleared tqo somewhat, and he
went for a quiet walk through the place.
Just as he was passing the open door of &
email chnroh situated on the outekirta
the town the rain suddenly came down ire
torrents, and the gentleman was glad ta'
seek refuge from the shower inside the
&troth He went into a pew and sat down,
intending to wait until the storm was over.
He had not seated many minutes when &
clergyman, apparently *be pastor
of the church, entered it from the other
end, and made hie way to the pulpit, acting
as if about to commence service. Thia
was his intention, for the deserted °audi-
tion of the church was owing to the ordi-
nary worshippers having had to seek shelter
from the violent ram. The minister waited
patiently or some time, bat as the time
for the service to begin was now long pest,
he decided to go on with it to his congre-
gation of one, concluding that other wor-
shippers would drop in by degree& Hes
commenced the proceedings by giving out a
hymn which ran as follows:
Come, 0 thou traveller unknown I
Whom still I hold but cannot see;
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with thee.
With thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.
When he had reached this point the
&learned "commercial" lost no time in
laying hold of his bat and making a pre-
cipitate retreat from the building to hie
hotel, the drenching ram notwithstanding
Charley Was Sklar.
Annie—Are you going to give Charley
anything at Christmas, Ida?
Ida—I'm thinking of giving him a hint.
Couldn't Stand Water.
"What kind of goods is it ?" aaked
Blood, of Kentucky, when his wife dia.
played her new gown. "It's watered silk.
" Ahl that's why it turned my stomach as
soon as I saw it."
Tins is the season of the year for
pneumonia or lung fever. 15 results from
expoeure to wet or cold, and is therefore
more general in the winter than in the
summer, and is dreaded by medical men on
account of the large percentage of fatal
cases and the suddenness with which n
fatal issue is generally. reached. The fire
symptom of pneumonia is generally a peen
nounced ohill, attended by a severe pain
very much resembling that muted by
stab, within a circumscribed space at
near the nipple on the affected side. Th
follows a racking cough, with 'expect°
tion, high fever, loss of appetite, full
hard pulse and increased respiration.
the aecond stage of the disesae the
may cease, although the cough will
tittle; while in the third stage respir
will resume its normal condition, itp
will return, and pain will almost
entirely digappear—one of the p
ties of this stage being that in the
perate it may load to delirium trem
grave complication in pneumonia
finny:cation of the raerobranous aa
emu:undo the heart ; but when o
valescence hag begun receiver)"
disertee is antioat certain, and
lapses are very infrequent. T
method of treating prommonia
lotting ; end thie is again coming
in °ewe where the, patient is plot
the first stage quinine and antefe
used, hot flaxseed poultices bein
plied. In the oecond stage the te
is mainly alooholio. Some radioal n
of treatment have letely been &dor
Germany, notably oxygen gas, to r
functions of the lunge, and the pla ng
patients in the open air. The merita
She varione reethoda aro now being free
diecuseed, and with the advanoe in medics
mince there is a proepeot that pneumon'
may yet be robbed of many of its term
• —The keigning belle at an afternoon
&mime to be just pouring,