The Exeter Times, 1886-7-15, Page 6bull
CRAFTER III,-- (.)
'W' henhe awoke the mere u+orninn, Cecil
Graham knew further that he had len
deed found. his Eve, that the pale silent girl.
had ethical his heart without an effort on
her part, without reeiatance on hie, and that
he loved at laat—a lova strong as death, urn,
ending as eternity 1
With dieenehauted eves the young poet
looked upon Nellie Mill when he ao•
oidentally met her, Somewhat later, during
his aimless strolling by the river. She
blushed and smiled, her foolish happiness
S and emit°; but he turned
in a red
kinin ,
s
g
y
from hor coldly, almost with a frown. He
wondered why he bad never noticed before
how vulgarly rod her cheeks were, how
milk maid like the plump 'roundness of her
egure, and how commonplace the hazel eyes
and dark crisp curia. Surely a woman
ought always to be tall and slight, pale and
yellow -haired 1 Then, when She apoke, how
imam was her acoent, and how unmusical
were the shrill tones of her voice !
Although he had turned from her so cold-
ly, the quick childish tears which brimmed
her eyes melted Cecil's heart, and, patting
her cheek lightly, he said—
" Forgive me, Nellie 1 I am as oroes as a
bear this morning. Won't you turn back
with me and see if you oan coax me Into a
better temper ?"
Foolish Nellie turned at once and lent a
reverent and enchanted ear to his idle 're-
marks and his poetical quotations. She
was silent when he was silent—lost in re-
veries of yesterday, Cecil had no Idea that
the girl loved him, no idea that for her to
walk by his aide, seeing him and hearing
him, was the highestblies she ceuld imagine
He simply regardedher as an amusing res•
iieally pretty child. When at length she
ventured timidly and reluctantly to hint
'that the early dinner hour was past, he
started.
" Dinner?"—and he repeated the word
absently, " Ob, ah, yes? You had better
turn back, child. I am won g to the Mora
Homme, and may not be back until late."
Turn bank alone 1 .3, strange pain smote
Nellie's heart ; but with a oareless wave ef
the hand Cecil had already gone on, hast-
ening towards Veriston, his head bent, and
his light cane switching the tremaleue
grasses. Had he turned to look, he would
have seen the girl throw herself down
among the ferns in pasalonate childish grief,
sobs almost stifling her—jealousy, love,
and wounded pride in fierce conflict. He
might have been startled to hear from those
childish lips the almost inarticulate bitter
o�" He is going to see Argent Veriaton 1 I
hate him—I hate him!"
Bat all unheeding, he pursued his path,
Awakening to the fact that the hour was an
untimely ene for calling, he strolled along
to the mere, feeling sure that Argent would
visit her favorite haunt,
A shower had fallenduring the night, and
there was now a delicious freshness in the air.
The birds sarg joyously in the trees, sweet
scents were wafted by the gentle breeze,
dragon flies hung quivering among the long
cool reeds, and the water flashed and dim-
pled. All was ineffably fair, innocently
joyous, and joy -giving, and yet Cecil's heart
was sad with an indefinable foreboding.
All day a cloud had hung over his spinate
which would not be shaken off, In vain he
reasoned with himself, in vain he called
himself a morbid fool and a senseless idiot.
The vague clinging shadow was still there.
Battling - with it, he paoed up and down,
until suddenfyhe aawArgent comingtoward
him ; then the cold misgiving fled and all
the golden glory of " love's young dream,"
surrounded him instead.
Slowly she came, her hands clasped be-
fore her, her long dress sweeping the grass.
She were ne hat, but a white quaintly-em-
breidered umbrella shielded her face from
the hot glare. Listlessly graceful, fair and
pale, the dark blue sky throwing out the
parity` of her white robes, she came towards
him, appearing neither sutprieed nor pleased
when she saw him, and replying with
dreamy indifference to his warm nervous
greeting. Her eyes rested without emotion
of any sort upon his changing faoe, which
was many shades redder than was its wont.
" A great blundering booby I net have
looked 1" he afterwards told himself savage -
'y. " But if I had looked like an angel she
would never have noticed me."
With a sigh as of one resigned to her fate,
the young lady sank down en the old trunk
gazing with longing eyes out over the
water.
" Yen eoem to love the mere ?" ventured
Cecil Graham presently, finding her appar-
ently forgetful of his presence,
She sighed again softly.
"Love 1 That is a strange ward."
" It should not be estrange word to you,"
continued the poet, seating himself unbid-
den by her side.
" Why not to me ?" she asked in palm
surprise,
" Why not? Because, because—pardon
me, but you are so young, se—se beautiful,
se beloved i Why all your life must be
filled with love!"
" Young, beautiful, beloved," she mar-
mnred, as if studying the meaning of the
words. "I have read ef women who were
all three, and you say I am. But that
doesn't make me love,"
She spoke wearily, without .pasalon, and
without change of tone or expression.
"Do you not love your father t" he asked
rather startled and feeling his way.
"No; 1 think not—I do not know," she
answered quite calmly. " I do not know
what you mean by love."
" I mean that power , which makes pain
heaven, and death blies," eaid Cecil aolemn.
ly,A slight quiver disturbed the serenity of
the girl's fade; she turned her eyes on his,
and he saw in them an ezpreesion ef vague
pain.
"I have read of it," she said ; "but I
know of nothing whioh wourd make death
bliss to me"—shuddering a little,
" Death borne for, or with another, I
meant," he continued gently, " There have
been thorn who have endured—thore are
millions who would endure torture with a
smile, for love's sweet sake,"
Argent turned away from his pasalonate
gaze and his passionately uttered words,
"Do not," ebe implored, with a gesture
as of one warding ell a blow. "Let me be
at peace."
Then a long ellenoe fell upon them, It
was broken by the appearance of Mr, Ver-
iston, who, book in hand, came up, and
drew the unwilling youth away from tho
fair-haired siren for a stroll in the park and
a metaphysical disoaseion, finally taking
nim, much more willingly, in to tea.
The whole room was redolent of the scent
of narcissus as thegtwo men entered= -a entitle t
odour whioh ever after'n ards rammed in f
Cool] n mind etrangelycharacteristic of Ar. r
gent Veriaton, for she wore cluetora of the t
flower in her hair and bosom, It was won-
derful how her more presence fascinated
the young man t
the tones of her voice v
y g
,
charmed him like s
weetest musks, and her a
I
ler m
neaten ave
i mea. sunk In
t a
cd his es v
op ,Eon
the oo1o;rlosenesK of her face and dreaa,
whioh would have displeased most men,
poeticised some indesoribeiblo attraction for
him. Re could have knelt and worshipped,
her att a saint, She seemed to atm sweet att
a rose, pure es a dewdrop, more noble and
more to be desired. than aught the world
oantained,
" When I have "'
taught' her to love, he
said to' himself, as he walked home in ting
gloaming, and hia pulses throbbed violently
as he said it, "" the will awake heart and
seal, and she will have learned the only
lesson needed to: make her perfeot. I ehall
write what 1 will on those unspotted tab.
tete. Am I net the first who has penetra-
ted into the palace of the sleeping beauty?
A T o.'
Am att
therefore t
h r honly e one
edestined
t
awake her with a kiss to love and life.?"
And the words of a favorite song rose to his
lips as he pressed en gaily.
give her time; on grass and sky
,� Let her gena It she be lain.
As they looked. ere he draw nigh,
They will never look again,' "
CHAPTER 1V,
"Did you ever dee Mra. Veriston V' aske
Mr, Graham one morning of his landlady
as he passed her in "the kitchen garden
where she was engaged in cutting cabbages
He had paused u on
hia
way'
Pto have a
h
more, lost by a too rough tough he should
destroy his house of cards, A moment or
two shit stood, then, In her usual calm quiet
tenni, she Bald--
"" 1, must take those roeea in. 1 think
father wantsthem," my
"" Rave you ;forgotten thatyou aro going
to show me Easthero Abbeyhin morning?'
he demanded, bravelyhidihis disappoint
wont as they strolled up to the
"" Were we? Yes,- I had forgotten"--
coolly, "But it is impossible ; I must help
my father,"
"Oh, you will not disa pint me
1 ?' ho urged, PP so cruel-
ly !l deeply womndod by this
p'-oof of her indifference, "I am euro Mr,
Veriaton will put oft' the buaineas, what-
ever ii bo, until to,morrow,"
,
No, no ; but—hositatingly--"" if you
like, perhaps we might go after lunohoon,"
"You do not seem anxious about it 1"
he said bitterly. " I believe you would
rather not go at all with me,"
She looked up wonderingly at his face
olouded with pain,
"" Your going makes no difference," she
responded, driving the nail deeper with
every word ; "and I want to go. I like the
d Abbey, and we can go down to the sea,"
don't
Verieten, you are cruel l You
on't know hew you hurt me 1 ho burst
, out
with r
ire r a
ee ib a
I atls °
in
P Then b a
P
, Y
" Yee, air," + she said, pausing, knife in
hand, "" It seems only as yesterday the
master brought her home to the Mere House
and yet it must be over twenty years agent.
Ay, but time do fly ! Here to day and gone
tormorrer, as you may say. A right pretty
grater she was!"
"" Anything like her daughter, Mrs,
Mill ?"
"Not a deal, air ; oho wero little and
playful as a kitting --only seventeen yearn
old, you ata, air. I remember I was up to
the 'owe with fresh butter and heggga ; and
as I was set down, having a oracle of talk
with Mrs, Sampson the housekeeper, in
Domes young Mra. Veriaton, all dreased in
bine, air, with geld coloured hair and blue
eyes, for all the world like a fairy at the
pantonine. She Domes in smiling, and, see
she, 'Who's this ?' sea she, Well, I up and
makes my 'bedienoe—tor I knows what's
due to gentlefolks—and nes I, ' I am Wil-
iam MIll's wife at the farm, what brings
your batter and hegga, my lady, and wishes
you, 1f I maybe so bold, 'ealth and 'apps.
nese.' And she laughs like a peal 'o silver
bells; and, see ahe, ' Thank you. Mrs, Mill.
I look as if I'd got beth, don't 1?' And
dire enough she did, sir; and, eoaroe a year
after, I helped to lay her in her ocffin 1"
"" Poor young thing," said Cecil, with a
thrill of pity fer the fair innocent life so
quickly ended. " How very, very sad 1 I
suppose her husband made a great trouble
of her death?"
"" Trouble? He was mad with trouble,
sir 1 It was bawfnl to see him at first—np
and down, up and down, and no reet for a
minute, No one dared show him the
baby, poor lamb ; but at last Mrs. Grubb—
whioh she was the nurse, e1r—ses she. ' It's
redikilia and onnateral, and see the blessed
hinfant he shall, if 1 loses my life for it 1'
And she ups and bursts right into the
study, and she lays it in his arms afore you
cmild say ' Jack Robinson,' A pale, fair
little thing it waa, as quiet as a menee, and
for all the world as if it 'snowed everything.
Contrairey to all we thought air, he clasps
and kisses it, and breaks out into a perfect
flood of tears and sobs; and the doctor said
acid he, it 'ad saved his Iife or his reason.
After that he could hardly bear the child
est of his sight, But it's a sad lose for her,
sir—him so queer and her neither kith nor
kin in a sense of word. They do say she's
net quite—quite—" And Mrs. Mill tap-
ped her forehead mysteriously,
" I'll tell you what it is, Mra, Mill,"
cried Cecil, an indignant flash rising to the
very roots of hie hair, " there's a eet of tale.
bearing old gossips who will tell,any lies In
creation, just for the sake of having some-
thing to ray"—the landlady, who felt some-
what guilty herself on this point here flash-
ed in her tarn—" and will even slander a
noble and innocent lady as far such crea-
tures as—as the stare above In the sky 1"
"Yea, sir, quiteso, sir!" stammered Mra,
Mill, very much crestfallen beneath the un-
expected storm she had brought down upon
her head.
" Yen mlghthave knocked me down with
a feather," she told her hatband afterwards.
" Who'd a thought he'd a taken me up like
that? Dapend upon it, Willem, it's not fer
nethlnk our young gentleman goes up to
the 'ouae so often. It's to ,be hoped for his
sake she is in her right mind, poor dear 1'
Cecil had allowed it to be supported by
Mr. Veriaton that he had never seen the
venerable ruins of Esethore Abbey, and
that very morning he was going to be con-
ducted there by the eld gentleman and his
daughter.
A little rtffisd still by Mrs. Mill's last
remark, a little saddened by the thought of
Mrs. Veriston's brief span of life and love,
and the idea of Argent's lone motherless
youth, he is astened towards the Mere House.
It was a gray sunless day, fall of brooding
warmth. Net a breath of wind "detached
the delicate blossoms from the tree," or stir-
red the frail feathery graenee whioh edged
the narrow winding path that made a short
out to the house,
Argent was in the garden gathering
flowers. Catching a glimpse of her white
dreier between the trees, Cecil went towards
her, murmuring--
"
urmuring—
"'it le my lady, oh, It is my love
She speaks, yet ehe says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses
But when he reaohed her he could only
say—
"" What a lovely morning, is it not?"
"It snits my mood," she answered, with-
drawing the hand he had taken and would
fain have held.
"May I ask what is your mood?" he
queried gently. "It should be a happy
one amongst the flowers.''
"Ah, but the flowers aro sad this morn-
ing!" she replied, letting her eyes wander
dreamily over their wild luxuriance, "See
they hang their heada, for there is no roan -
shine."
"Then you are sad, I protume 2" he said,
In tones whose tenderness was wasted on
the doses, air, " And that must not be.
But tell me the nation ef, your sadness ; per-
haps I may know some sisal/ potent enough
to. exorcise the evil spirit."
"" The reason ? There le none, only that
the flowers are rad. I told you bofore'—
impatlently—'" they want the sun, and so.
dol.''
"Shine nut, little head, sunning over with burls,
To the flowers, and be their nun,"
at. But I do,!' she sighed, pressing ono of
the gathered blossoms to her aoft pale
check,
" Well, love shall be your sun," he wont
on, still continuing the fanciful vein
hough his' heart was beginning ' alt
ant, '" sadnessg lI to boat
and: gloom disappear in tho
aye of love, if only you will not hide from
hem,"
She stood
anent, as 'If ponderinghis
words; while be waited togather fro
m
Moe or tan
g oe some sign that ahe ander.
Wort hist meaning, not venturing to sal
violent effort oalmlcg his agitation, he
added, "No, you do not know. Forgive
Ina if I have startled you, What does the
poet say 2—
e '
—"' You'll love me yet, and 1 oan tarry
You dove's protracted growing.
Junereared that bunohot flawe,e you carry,
From seeds of Ap,il'ssowing.'"
But Argent was already ascending the
wide steps to the porch, and ahe did not
hear what the poet said. However, the
words were net spoken wholly in vain,
since they gave Cecil some comfort, All
the way through the hall he hugged the
comfort to his breast, murmuring, as his
eysa feasted themselves on the graceful fig-
ure that preoeded him—
" Xou'll love me yet. you'll love me yet 1"
Mr. Veriston's own particular den was a
small octagon room, lighted by one narrow
heavily -framed, casement jutting out among
the rioh'cool greenness of a laurelehrubbery
at the back ef the house. A narrow pas-
sage and flight of steps led to it from the
hall. Dawn this passage and up these steps
the two went, breaking In, with scant
ceremony, en the'student's Mamie retreat.
They found him` arrayed in a torn drosaing-
gowm of faded rainbow huea, and buried in
a pile of books and papers, mumbling to
himself as he searohed the musty pages er
wrote a eentenoe on the virgin quires by his
side:
Ab, Mr. Graham ! Yee, fine day 1" he
muttered abstractedly, as he looked up at
Ceoil and that gentleman grasped his geld
thin hand. Then he added, "" Argent, are
you ready to help me ?"
"May I help v' urged Cecil, before the
eirl could anewer. " Cannot I take Miss
Veriston's place while she aota annehine to
her flowers ?"—with a smile intended for
her alone,
"Yea, yea 1" was Mr. Veriston's eager
answer. "" At least, if yon oan spare the
time, Graham."
"It will be the best use I oan make of
it," returned Cecil, with a smile. "" But
you meat not forget, sir, that after lonoh-
600 we are all going to Easthore Abbey,
and down to the sea -shore. I will help you
this morning, and you shall indulge me thie
afternoon, Is it a fair bargain ?"
"Quite," smiled the old bookworm, un-
able to resist the genial Influence of Ceoil'e
manner. "" You will go, Argent ?"
"" Yea, father," she said, turning away
without the glanoe for whioh the young
man was yearning, and taking his heart
with her as the returned.
Later on, the uniform soft gray of the
sky broke up into pearly clouds, bordered
with light, and showing here and there
faint streaks of blue. Standing en the door-
step ready to set out, a gleam of sunshine
emote the ground at Argent's feet.
"" A good omen 1" exclaimed Cecil, with
a senile. Then, in lower tones, " You will
net be sad now ?"
The only answer she made was a lovely
reflection of his own smile, sweeter, he
thought, than any words oonld have been;
and It was with a heart full of renewed
hope that he walked by her side, she lean.
ing on her father's arm, to the Abbey.
Their path lay morose a wide common,
now fragrant with heather bloom and bright
with masses of golden gorse, broken up
here and there by granite boulders piercing
the messy turf. Over nate plain the breath
of the sea stole refreshingly. Poised in tho
olear air a lark was pouring out a buret of
liquid song. Mr. Verieten, his head still
full of his late labors, whioh had been most
unwillingly discontinued, strode along with
head bent in silent cogitation. Argent was
almost as silent. Ceoil could net help
thinking what a curious party of pleasure
they would have appeared to ordinary ob.
servers. Nevertheless, and in spite of the
rebuffs he had that morning received, he
felt strangely happy. The bright gleaming
bloesome, the fresh pure air, the lark's song
and the ecoasional sunshine, all whispered
to Mm of hope.
"You 11 love me yet,"•be told himself,
glancing with an exquisite sense of proprie-
torship at Argent's pale dreamy face, her
upraised eyes, apparently unconscious of his
proximity, her yellow hair shining beneath
the brim of her large Rembrandt hat, her
white dreaa, her small hands encased in very
mundane dogakin gloves, and her tiny arch-
ed feet, His heart swelled triumphantly,
and his pulses boat strong and fad. He
would not have changed places with any
ene in the world. It was such bliss to be
byher aide,breathing g the same air and be-
holding the same summer earth and sky.
'0 Easthore Abbey 1" he exclaimed at
last, breaking tho enchanted silence which
had fallen upon them.
"Hal" 'and Mr. Veriaton awoke with a
start, " Yes a fine old place ; full of mem-
orles of the past,"
"Imagine the days when the Abbey was
in its.prime," said:Ceoil, when they stood
in the dismantled chancel presently, watch-
ing the swallows darting to and fro on dark
ewift.wfnge. "When etoled priests swept
down these forest -link aisles, when music
and choral singing mingled with the clouds
of amethystine incense rising to the fretted
roof, and the light . fell in rod and purple
flakes on tonsured monk and kneeling wer-
shippera, on stately banner -hung tomb and
jewelled crucifix—this vast fano filled by a
devout throng. And now, where aro they 7
Where is the pomp of its worship? AU gone,
all less than duet 1"
" Yon aro eloquent, Graham!" smiled the
old man; but Argent's eyes to as
she listened "un i ni then
until he finished, they
grew sympathetically sad,
Cecil Graham laughed,
" The plaoo le enough to Intl ire "
p one he
Wel • di the vi ,
very walla
that once ' y and empty wmde of
blushed with their gouts of
glory' aoem;to mourn their periehed grand-
eur. To me it is like ono vast tomb 1"
"A tomb?" aaid Argent dreamily,
" Yes, a tomb of time,"
""
This
tree must have been st
rook b
lightning,"
ehtning," remarked Mr, Veriston, after
were soated� outside on Monro' ,fallen stones,
resting baton proceeding to the geashere,
another mile away.
,s Xmo," responded Caoil; and a' thoogh't
of that other afternoon, intent in oorup: n,
ioneltip sp d garent came over him for a mo,
meat. I was hake at the time, It was
during that terrific thundosstorni a few
weeks ego. You rememberit? A rand
eight. I shall never forget its wild beauty',
'" Rather a dan�ggerous spot. to be indew
suoh,aatorm, Whereabouts wore .y you?"
",Tutt within the oloiaters," Y
"" It's awender you weren't killed,
ham," asserted the other solemnly.
Cecil stole a leek at Argent.; She'sat p
featly oalm and itinifforent, though att
tivo,
"" I doa:teee that 11 would nava matte
much," he said bitterly.
n Mr, Veriston 1" exlaimed a voice,
fore any one could speak again. "" This i
pleasant surprise P' and the Revere
ted
lug
in -
r,
the
to
he
dd
h
ver
ext
ly
e?
he
ng
of
?"
g,
pray
00
to
me
n
le
y(;) 1LING FOLK S.
The Tin B » ee .
oP p,
About the year 1760 a gentleman in paea-
ing through a part et England famous for
its Guo sheep, atopped ono night et au inn
where there was staged upon the supper
table a roast of fine fat mutton, The talk
In of the landlord turned from the mutton to
, g the hep and the groat aheep•owner of the
country; and tiger: mused hia guoeta with an
Gra- account of a at quarrel between two.,
nelghbering gentlemern, each of whom had
er-
brought a cult againet the other, one for the
maiming of his °hoop,' awl the other for
en' what he galled unlawful seizure of a part of
his flock, The afial' h
reit
I avid the landlord was
I
widely known and had excited csoneiderable
intermit, and been made the aubjeot of many
be- joins, songs and riddlaa, the point being as
a to to hew a certain flack of sheep could have
Maurice Stone, an clerioal long eidrte a
wide•awake, appeared lu sight, Shah
hand swarmly with the trio he abated hi
self by his old friend's side.
"`You must join us, Stone," said M
Va'rieten. " We are going: down to
seashore. You will come battle with us.
dine ?"
,.
„
Certainly. r rel
I hal
s be lad replied
lt
y
olergyinau, not thinking itneoesea to a
that that would be the first time he
broken hie fast during the day. , " I ne
expected to find Friends here," was his n;
remark,
"I suppose you came—like :a the ho
brethern of old—to pray cud • medltet
sai:i Cecil flippantly,
"Yen are partly right," returned t
other calmly. ., Ta me ,hie seems a fiat#
place for meditation—and for prayer,"
"" I suppose of comae the 'ancient rite
conaeQratlen perforated here still hel'ds
queried Cecil, feeling rebuked,
"Vertainly—while a atone remain
Even after that the holy Influences of pre
and praise will hallow the spot where on
the altar reared ito snored sign aloft."
I am in for it 1" muttered ,Cecil sot
voce. Then aloud—"Do you often o0
here. Mr. Stone Y"
"" Very often, I think Miss Veneto
andI love it egnally wail?" -with a mai
at the young girl.
nd loot their tails and getteu thein back on the
tame day.
Ilia story of the affair, an related by the
landlord, was es follows :
Each of the gentlemen in question was
the owner of hundreds of sheep, whioh fed
In large flacks on; the uninolosod downa or
oommono: They vera all of a breed, 10 -
ma k
t able for thew short loge and h l broad,fat,
a
g ,
heavy tails, on which the wool grew 8e long
and thick that they literally dragged 021 the
ground. They were divided into various
large flecks, each of whioh was under the
charge of a particular shspherd who ap-
pointed others, chiefly boys and girls, to
lead them about in entailer companies and
watch fest they should get mixed up with
those of their neighbors. The shepherds of
the two sheep -owners were very jsaloue of
each other, and there was between them a
good deal of quarreling and even at times
tighting, concerning pasture, boundaries and
the ownerahip of stray sheep.
Ono day a simple young country girl, who
had about forty cheep in her charge, eat
down under a shady hawthorn bush to watch
her Hook and there unfortunately fell asleep.
Setae of the animate, finding themselves un-
checked, strayed off to a distance and tree-
paeeed upon the territory of the rival flocks,
where tho shepherd cruelly out off their
tails and then drove them back to their own
pasture,
The girl meanwhile had awakened and in
Bore dismay searohed for her missing charge,
whioh she at length to her great joy espied
Doming toward her—but alas! as ahe soon
disoovered, without their taila. Thereupon
her lover, a young shepherd, went in great
wrath with some of hia companion and had
a fierce battle with the perpetrators of the
outrage, whom they compelled to keep the
maimed animals and give up instead an
equal number of their own flook.
Hence the lawsuits and the bitter enmity
between the two neighboring families, own -
era of the sheep.
When I fires came across this account In
an old book, B Jaunt through England, I
was immediately atrnok with the similarity
of incident to the well-known ballad of " Bo -
Poop," Indeed I can hardly doubt that this
meet have been the origin of the pretty lit-
tle pastoral with whlon every child In the
land is familiar and the explanation of that
puzzling riddle as to how Bo -Peep's flock
lost their tails and found them again. The
ballad was first popularly known about the
time that the book to question was written—
nearly one hundred years ago—and was then
not a nursery rhyme used to amuse children,
bat a fashionable song sung by ladies to the
music of a spinet. It has ainoe been altered
somewhat, bat was originally, as we find it
In an old collection of " Songs and Ballads,"
as follows
Little Bo -Peep
Lost her ebeop
And didn't know where to find them ;
Let them alone,
And they will come home,
Dragging their tails behind them,
"Mien. Varieton and I 1" The words
struck unpleasantly on Mr. Graham's ear.
They oame here then together f Bat Ar-
gent was whpliy.;unoenfused, wholly unman.
riotous..- She only said quietly- '• .
"I think we do," and the young poet's
momentary jealous qualm passed away.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
FACTS AiL®IIT AITSTIfLLIL,
SOME INTERESTING STATISTICS ABOUT
THE ANTIPODEAN COLONIES,
Ab the present day, it is astoniahtng to
find how superficial is the knowledge pos-
Beeand by the oubaide world as to the
vaeb commercial importance of the Aus-
tralian continent. Each year of neoeaei-
ty tends more and more to disseminate
information in every direction. The
area of the Australian continent is esti-
mated to be somewhat ender 3,000,000
square miles, though, aided to the areas
of Tasmania and New Zealand, the am-
ouut is nearly 3,100,000 sgnare miles.
Victoria is far the smallest colony on the
continent, containing 87,884 square
miles, against 309,175 in New South
Wales, 668,224 in Qaeensland, 903,425
in South Australia (including the North-
ern Territory), and 975,920 square miles
in Western Australia. This gives a to-
tal for Auabralia of 2,944,628 square miles
whioh, with 26,375 in Tasmania and 104,-
037 in New Zealand gives a total area for
Australia of 3,075,030. Victoria, conse-
quently, is less than a third of bhe size
of New South Wales. The Australasian
colonlea oocnpy three eights of the whole
area of the Bribish dominions, being some
what emaller in area than Canada, which
is the largest British possession and ex-
ceeds Australasia in population by about
1,500,000. At the end of 1883 there
were on the continent of Australia over
2,400,000 sonle, or in the whole of Aus-
tralasia (including New Zealand and Tas-
mania, for the first time) upwards of 3,-
000,000. Of the different colonies, Vic.
toric at present bears off the palm with
931,790 of a population against 869,300
in New South Wales, 287,475 in Queens.
land, 304,515 in South Australia and 31,.
700 in Western Australia, showing a num-
ber numerical increase in 2/ yeara, be-
tween the date of the last census and bhe
end of 1883, of 287,878, of whioh New
South Wales contributed 117,842, bhe
total inoreaae being in the proportion of
13h per cent-, for Australia and for the
whole of Australasia in the same time,
13* per cent. The above comparisons
show that, at the present moment, New
South Wales is increasing nearly twice
as fast aa Victoria, and Qaeensland
nearly twice as faeb as Now South
Wales. Mr. Hayter, in making a fore-
cast as to the possible population of.Ans.
tralasla 100 yeara hence, bases his cal-
culations on the rate of increase in
the decennial period intervening in the
two hat ceneuses, which is set down as
42 per oenb. Supposing the same in
crease bo'be maintained between each
coming census as occurred between 1871
and 1881, the probable population in
1981 would have reached the astoniehinq
figures of 93 865,132, being even by 1891
close on to 4,000,000. All the colonies
except Victoria, have thus far been ex-
pending considerable Bunts of money on
,he introduction of Immigrants—as much
as half a million sterling being spent in
this way in 1883, of which Queensland
contributed about one-half.
'am Jones on Infidelity,
'Whenevera mangets upbetore a commun-
ity and premiaima hie infidelity, then I have
just one question to ask another party and
one to ask him, I say : "Infidel, what
are yen doing in this world ?" And the In-
fidel steps up and says : " I am fighting
Ohriattanity, That's what I'm doing."
Chridtiantty, what are you doing ?' And
Christianity says : "I am rescuing the
neriehing and saving the fallen ; I am build.
ing almshousee ; I am founding 'chunchee; I
I am speaking words of cheer to the race; I
am lifting up the fallen ; I am bleating the
world ; I am eavingmen from hall •
savin them in heaven." xe ", infidel, amr
g vo � Why, are
you fighting almshouse's, and orphans'homee,
and churches, and happy delith.beda, and
don, and peace, and ° heaven Oh, get
of my presonoe, thou great boast 1 Don't
tell me you are fighing such thinge att.
Se 1 You ask me : "Mr, Jones, what's
r business in this town?"
A
w Y It is to
throw
arms around everyo
poor ,loaf man and
g him to peace and happinees and
von.
par
out
you
the
you
my
y had duly raplored the Abbey, and boa
8o little Bo -Peep
.A watch did keep
Nor troubled hereelt to find them;
And they all came back, -
But alas, and slack!
They had left their tale behind them 1
Then she sighed and wept,
And at last she slept,
And dreanept that ehe heard them a -bleating ;
But when she awoke
She found it a joke—
For again they were a -fleeting,
Then her truelove took
Hie staff and crook
And traveled abroad to find them ;
And she eaw them Boon
By the light of the moon
Dragging their tails behind them:
A Nation of Contradictions,
Same Eastern nations are made np of
oontradlotieno, The Bengalee frankly says,
"I am timid," and dies with a calmness
that a brava man might envy, The Chinese
havo little physical courage, but they will
commit suicide if an enemy may be thereby
injured. At Honkow, a Chinese barber pre.
eeoated one of his men for stealing two del.
tarn The man committed suicide, not for
shame, because theft is not dlaoreditable In
China, but to spite hia master,
Al soon as he was dead, his widow wont
before a mandarin and proved to him that
her husband's death had been omitted by his
master's prosecution. The mandarin con-
demned the barber to pay one hundred and
and twenty dellara for the support of the
widow.
The houseboats throng with ohildren,
and, with all the care in the world, they do
fall into the river. To guard against that
contingency, a cord Is tied around the waist
of each male child, to whioh is attached a
fleet, But no female ahird is provided with'
a float ; they may drown and welcome.
Bays are prised. The punishment for
stealing a male child is death. Bat girls
are considered an expensive nuisance, and
frequently die from lack of care. Their
bodies are tossed into the nearest hole. A
large dith outside of Foo Dhow was se much
used for the purpose that the autheritiea
posted tho notion c " Female infants may
nor be thrown here."
The people seem to be indifferent to hit.
man suffering, however piteous. "One day
in Foochow," writes an English officer, "tho
struggles of adrowning man absorbed the in.
Wrest of a crowd, who made not the eilghest
effort to rescue him,
A bystander, unable to obtain a olear
view, expressed a doubt whether the man
had really perished,whereupon the irritat-
ed mob immediately tossed tho sceptic Into
the river with the remark, 'Go and lock
after him yourael ' He, too, perished,"
The author of English Life in China "
writes that it is a country "where rosin
have no fragrance, the woman no petticoats,
and the magistrates no honor; where old
men fly kilos, and puzzled people soratoh
their backs instead of their heads • where
the seat of honor is on the loft, and the
abode of intellect Is in tho stomach; whore
to take off your hat is Insolent, and to wear
White is to wear mourning; tvhero, finally,
there le a literatute without an alphabet,
and a language without a grammar."
/-.11-4.4111111.4.-
?Annus, Louise's illustrations and eketoh-
ea of Canadian life and oeney ere used. ex -
r
elusively in illustrating:sthe new guide -book
to Canada, oampiled and jut homed by the
Dominion ilovernment,
ROUND TOR WORLD,'
A beautiful whit bl?oksualre has been
captured near ,Jewell, Md, It is six feat
long and AS white as milk,
The four most important towel of An.s-
traisia are now Meleorne, population, 282,-
94'7 ; Sydney, 224 211 ; Adelaide, 103,8111;
and Auckland, 60,000,
Mr, Jonathan Beek, of Egmondviile, a
fow daya ago was attaeken by aeon while
hiving, They seemed reaolved to hive in
hie ears, in hiswhiekers, and in hie hair.
Ha ie updmr medical treatment,
A Cuioago jeweler has invented a' self.
winding watoh. By an arrangement some.
thing like the carefully banced leve
r of a
podometer, the watoh is wound by the ono•.
tion of the wearer when walking, A walk
of neves minutes will wind the watch to go
for forty-two hours,
Rattloeraake Jim of Wooator, Ohio, flap
then the ot,ly tellable euro for the bite of a
rattleauake is turpentine. He says that a
bottle of turpentine held over the bitten
apt, the uncorked mouth down, will draw
out the poison, which can be seen unit enters
the turpentine in -a sort of a blue flame.
Although he has never been *ten, he has
tried this caro on hie doge, ales yo with SWI-
MS.
ase.
George Riley of Sahneotady, who bas just
had hia hand crushed in a drill press, is not
a fortunate youth. When very small he fell
off a forme and broke hie nose, Later he was
nearly drowned ; the" hia toes wore oruahed
by the oars ; then he broko his norm again ;
then his head was crushed between the
bumpera of railroad oars, and when the
skating rink was opened he was the first
to hurt himeolf, breaking hie arm. ,
A woman belonging to one of the oldest
families of Derb y, Conn, promiaed her,hua-
band before hia death that she would wear
his ring as long as she lived. In the grief
that followed his death she forgot about the
ring, and it was on his finger when he was
buried. A few nights ago, at midnight, the
sexton opened the grave and took off the
lid of the coffin, and the widow went down
to the grave and removed the ring from the
dead hand, She paid the sexton $25 for his
work.
A statistical expert;oalulates that if I,000,•
000, bahlea started together in the rage of
life, 150,000 would drop ant in the first year
53,000 in the s000nd, and 22,000 in the third
year. At the end of forty-five years about
half of them would still be in the raae.
Sixty years would eee 370,000 gray heads
still at it. At the end of eighty years
there would bo 79,000 remaining on the
track ; fifteen years later the number would
be reduced to 223, and the winner would
quit the track forever at the age of 108.
Fred and Willie Gersten, aged 9 and 11,
tired of their home in Cincinnati, Bo they
packed a big basket with provisions, stole $3
and a pistol from their father, and set out to
eee the world. And they saw it for three
wanks. sleeping in barns, selling newspa-
pers, a id blacking boots in Dayton and To-
ledo, and were in a fair way to beoome thor-
ough tramps when, the advertisements of
their frantic father Ied to their apprshen-
aion and return to the parented roof, Tney
say that they have had all the tramping
they want.
ChrIatepher Carley and John Hebborn,
military convicts at Fertn Snelling, Anna,,
were working outside the"- o[a. , ander the
care of Sentinel Brown. Seizing a favorable
opportunity, they knocked the sentinel
down and got his gun. Brown got up,
knocked Habborn down, made after Casey,
who was running off with the musket, over-
took him, got the piaoe, and when Casey
refused to surrender shot him through the
heart. Then he fired five shots at Hebborn
but did not hit him, and the convict eaoap.
ed. Casey was a deserter and was nerving a
two -year's sentence.
Mit, was announced that the Thomas Paine
S aiety of Frederick oounty,' Md,, would
celebrate the seventy-sevenetatt 'anniversary
of Tem Paine's death at-th , 'dues of Aaron
Davis, near Frederick ; but not a celebrator
appeared. Mr. DAVID himself observed tho
day by not working, He said that, while
there were ouly about a dozen members of
the society, there were three er four hun-
dred believers of the Paine dootrines In the
county, but fear of aooial ostracism or injary
to their business caused them to make s. sem
ret of their views.
Daniel R Arnold is the station agent at
Pawtucket, Recently the clerks and freight
hands went to his cifi.ce in a body, and the
apokeaman began a speech about the strikes
out West and the relations of employers and
employed, and was going on when Mr. Ar-
nold very sternly and impatiently said :
" S:ate your grievance," The next moment
ho' felt the cheapest of any man in New En-
gland, for the spokesman said the boyo had
come to make 'him a present on his fiftysev-
enth birthday, It waa a nioe present, but
Mr. Arnold could hardly say "thank yon,"
he was so surprlsed.
• The London World says that on Pattie
return to London she found/ awaiting on her
table several pale blue boxes from Lsdy and
Mr, Alfred de Rothschild, the first one con-
taining a brooch about four inches long, re-
presenting two large -pansies in white bril.
Iianta, with nine big blood -rod rubies in it;
heart all diamonds, and a large ruby in the
middle, goes with the brooch; a cigar -box
of violet leathor, with an inch -wide gold
frame, and on one side "M. Earnest Nico-
lini ;" on the ether, " From Mr. Alfred de
Rothschild," both names all in diamonds
and rubies ; and sundry other trlfles in gold
and silver,
Henry Ralph and his wife of.4Berville
Mich., quarreled and separated, the mother
taking a three-year•old child with her. She
tired of the boy, and a few .days ago, in
company with an admirer, started in a bug-
gy to take the ohiid to Ito father. She met
him on a`wagen lead of gravel and offered
the child to him. He wouldn'tytake it. The
mother tossed the boy np on at load of
gravel. The father threw him aok into
tho u The mother
b sal
IX 'the whip
and began beating her husband, and in th
confuslon the little boy fell out of the buggy
between the wheels of the loaded wagon.
The heroes started, the wheel went over the
little head, and the question in dispute was
nettled forever. The woman has been ar-
rested.
The Revue Scientifique announces the din•
oovery of a beetle, ohristened Cetonia aurala
which fa to render unnecessary all the knew -
ledge gained by Pasteur ooncerning the
treatment of rabies. A Russian naturalist,
Alexander Beaker, le oradited with having
made known the properties of this invalu-
able bug, and att being the authority for the
statement that in southern Ramie, it in com-
monly recognized and always efficient anti-
dote for rabtea, All that is necessary for a
person to do, afterhaving boon bitten by a
mad dog, ie to eat a plooe of bread in whioh
a Cronin durata is enveloped, and he will
be secured against hydrophobia, The insect
is said to be of a metallic green color, with
some width`hn
a arld
aPais upon
It,
and I
t is
represented as common among flowers, not
only of eouthern Russia, but of nearly all
southern Europe,