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The Exeter Times, 1887-7-7, Page 61$,'W 7X3.33t.. CHAPTER XVI. feet VOA fei1ler4POO; W there.? tho proc, 1 A tinItfled lignre canie teWards him, and ailether stealthily from behind,. ora011, ; blow, a Agree struggle for 4 140410104 144.4, 177X -X XT 733. ery for help borne idly on the breeze, a mist 1 rising before the eyetl,a kiphsomcl stars 1 deeming. aaed tumbling, then deep, sleepy 44^ een4eipp,!1lesa. , , .(T6' BE OGNTINI/44) Cowl:Med by Onflieting emoOons and torn by a thousand hopes and fears, Max Well set out on his journey to Rome. .A.t any Inizerds, he eves determined, to commit sao erune, and trnated to time and hts own motive wit te show him A way out of the •aveful cliflicelty which lay before biro. All the Old familiar oonntry lie passed through felled to interest him naw; he saw nothing but his own fate before his eyes; and the Eternal City which lied onee been a place of mystery and delight to him, now looked to distorted fancy like a tomb, every broken etatueten avenging finger, and every fractur- ed columu a solemn warning. It was night when he arrived and secured apartments—the old ones he hied occupied his. student days, the happiest time in his life he thought now, as every ornament re- called this silent voice or that forgotten me- mory slumbering in some corner of his brain. Be could eat nothing ; the very air of the ;place was oppressive to him ; so he put on his hat and walked out into the streets; all alive with the citizens taking their evening walk, end gay with light laughter ov4 fiirta- tions and cigarette smoke. He wandered long and far, so far, that it was late when he re- turned; and there, lying on the table, was a sealed paoket, bearing the device of the Order, and in the oorner two crossed daggers. He groaned as he opened it, knowing full well the packet contained the hated "instruc- tions," as they were called, He tore open, read them hastily, and then looked tout of the window up to the silent stars. And it was Visci, his old friend Carlo Vieth, he was sent here—to murder! The whole thing -seemed like a ghastly dresan. Visci, the etruest friend man ever had ; Visci, the handsome genius, whosepurse was ever ready for a fellow -creature in need; the man who had sat at his table times out of num- ber; the student who- was in his secrets ; the Man who had saved his life, snatched 'film from the very jaws of death—from the yellow waters of the Tiber. And this was Witteirlend he was going to stab in the back some desk night ! A party of realty, light- hearted students passed down the street, -some English voices amongst them, coming vaguely to IVIaxwelPs ears, as he sat there looking on the fatal document, staring him in the face from the table. Et tu, Brute 1'" 'Maxwell looked up swiftly. And there, -with one trembling forefinger pointing to the documents, stood the figure of a man -with a look of infinite sorrow on his face, as he gazed mournfully down upon the table. Be was young—not more than thirty, per- haps, and his aquiline features bore the marks of much physical suffering. There were something like tears in his eyes now. Carlo 1 is it possible it is you?" Max- well cried, springing to his feet. "Yes, Fred, it is 1, Carlo Vied, who stands before you. We are Well met, old friend; you have not fer to seek to do your bidding now. Strike! while I look the other way, for it is your task, I know." "As there is a heaven above us, no 1" Maxwell faltered. "Never, my friend! Do you think I would have come for this? Lis- ten to me, Visci. You evidently know why I an here; but sure as I am a man, never shall my hand be the one to do you hurt. LI have sworn it !" ee I had expected something like this," Visci replied mournfully. "Yes, I know why you come. You had best comply with eay request. It would be a kindness to me to kill me, as I stand here now." " Visci, I swear to you that when I join- ed the Brotherhood, I was in the blackest ignorance of its secret workings. When I was chosen for this mission, I did not even .comprehend what I had to do. Then they told me Visci was a traitor. Even then I did not know it was you. Standing there iin tlieroom, I swore never to harm a hair of your head; and, heaven help me, I never will e' "Yes, I am a traitor, like you," Visci smiled mournfully. "Like you, I was de- ceived by claptrap talk of liberty and free- dom; like you, I was allotted to take ven- geance on a traitor; and like you, I refus- ed. Better the secret dagger than the crime of fratricide upon one's soul 1" "Fratricide 1 I do not understand." " I do not understand either. Frederick, the man I was detailed to murder—for it is nothing else—is my only brother.—You start ! But the League does not counten- ance relationships. Flesh and blood and such paltry ties are nothing to the friends of liberty, who are at heart the sternest tyrants that ever the mouth of man execrated.—But what brings you here? i ou can have only one object in coming here. I have told you before it would be a kindness to end my -existence." "But why? And yet, when I come to "look at you again, you have changed." "1 have changed," Visci echoed mourn- fally—" changed in mind and body. My heart is affected, diseased beyond all leope 'of remedy. I may die now, at any moment; I cannot live four months." They sat down together, and. fell to dis- cussing old times when they were happy, careless students together, and Maxwell did not fail to notice the painful breathing and quick gasping spasms of his friend, altered most beyond recognition from the gallant Visci of other days. " Salvarini advised me to come here. You remember him ; he claims to be a true friend of yours" Maxwell observed at length. " He said it would gain time, and enable me to form my plans.—But tell me how you knew I was in Ronte. I have only just arrived." " I hada sure warning. It came from • he hand of Isodore herself.' UJ have heard much of her • she seems all-powerful. But I thought she was too stern a Leaguer to give you such friendly counsel. Have you ever seen her? I hear she is very beautiful." "Beautiful as the stars, I am told, and a noblebeerted woman too. She is a sort of • Queen of the League; but she uses her ,power well, ever erring on the side of mercy. She has a history, report says—the old story fa woman's trustfulness and a man's de- ceit. Poor Isodore 1 hers is no bed of roses 1" "And she put you on your guard ?" Max - Well asked. "Come, there must be some good in a woman like that, though I cannot 'Say I altogether like your picture. I should like to see I should not be surprised if you did be. fore many days, She is the one to protect •you from violence, With her sattotion, you conici laugh the mandates of the League to rem Had I long to live, I should sue for her protection, and wherever she may be, she would come to me. tven now, if she •comes to Rome, 800 her if you rem and lay your ease before her." "And shield myself behind it wetnan 1 That Hoeg not sound like the chivalrous Visa of old. She is only a worried, after "One in 0, Visci answered calm - .1y. "1± she holds out her right hand to you, cling to it as a drowning detsperete nzau bee to a rook ; it is your euly chance of salvation. And now it is late. I must go." Devito hie owa better sense, Mat(evell began to dwell upon the feet of gainiug es- sietance from the mysterions Isoelore, At meetings of the League in Loudon, he had heard her Liam° mentioned, and always with the utmost reverence and affeetion. If she could not absolutely relieve him from his undertaking, she could at anyrate shield him from non-compliance with the mandate. Full of these cheerful thoughts, he fell asleep. Ile found his friend the following morn- ing quite cheerful, but in the deyliglit the ravages of disease were painfully apparent. The dark rings under the eyes and the thin features bespoke nights of reeking pain aud broken rest. Visci noticed this and smiled gently. "Yes, I have changed," he said. 'Some- times after a bad night, I hardly know my- self. It is cruel, weary work lying awake hour after hour fighting with the grim King. But I have been singularly free from peen lately, and I am looking much better than I have been." "There might be a chauce yet," Maxwell replied with a cheerfaluess wholly assumed, and. thinking that this "looking better" was the nearest approach to death he had ever seen. Au absence from Rome, a change of climate, has done wonders for people be• fore now." Visci shook his head. "Not when the main -spring of life is broken," he said : "no human ingenuity, no miracle of surgery can mend that. Maxwell, if they had deferred their vengeance long, they would have been too late. Some inward monitor tells me shall fail them yet." "You will finf me, Visci, you may depend upon that. Time is no object to me." , e And if I should die and disappoint you of your terettge, how mad you would be 1" Visci laughed. "It is a dreadful tragedy to me ; it is a very serious thing for you; and- yet there is a comic side to it, as there is in all thiegs. Ah me I I cannot see the droll side of life as I used; but when the bloodthirsty murderer sits down with his victim tete-a-tete, dismissing the crime, there is something laughable in it after all." "1 daresay there is," Maxwell answered grimly, "though I am dense enough not to notice it. To me, there is something hor- ribly, repulsively tragic about it, even to hear you discussing death in that light way.', "Familiarity breeds contempt. Ts not that one of your English proverbs ?" Visci said airily.—" But, my good Frederick," , he continued, lowering his voice to a solemn key, "the white horseman will not find me unprepared, when he steals upon me, as he might at any moment. I am ready. I do not make a parade of my religion, but I have tried to do what is right and honest and honourable. I have faced death so often, that I treat him lightly at times. But never tear that when he comes to me for the last time"— Maxwell pressed his friend's hand in silent sympathy. "You always were a good fel- low, Visci," he said; "and if this hour must come so speedily, tell me is there anything I can do for you when—when"— "1 am dead? No reason to hesitate over the word. No Maxwell ; my house is in order. 1 have no friends besides my brother and he, I hope. is far beyond the vengeance ot the League now." " Then there is nothing I can do for you any way ?" "No, I think not. But you are my prin- cipal care now: your life is far more impor- tant than mine. I have written to Isodore, laying a statement of all the facts before her; and if she is the woman I take her for, she is sure to lose no time in getting here. Once under her protection, you are safe; there will be no further cause for alarm." "But it seems rather unmanly," Maxwell urged. "Unmanly !" echoed Visci scornfully. "What has manliness to do with fighting cowardly vencletti in the dark? You must, you shall do it 1" he continued vehemently; but the exertion was too much for him, and he swayed forward over the table as if he would fall. Presently, a little colour crept into the pallid face, 'and he continued: "You see even that is too much for me. Maxwell, if you contradict me and get me angry, my blood will be upon your head after all. Now, do listen to reason." "1± my want of common-sense hurts you as much as that, certainly. But I do not see how this taysterious princess can help me. "Listen to me," Visci said solemnly. Then he laid all his schemes before the other —his elaborate plans for his friend's gaiety, designs whose pure sacrifice of such were absolutely touching. Maxwell began to take heart again. "You are very good.," he said gratefully, " to take all this infinite pains for me." "In a like strait. you would do the same for me, Fred." Yes, Maxwell answered simply. "How Salvarini's words come back to me now! Do you remember, when I wanted to throw my insignia out of the window that evening, the last we all spent to- gether ?" "1 recollect. It was two days before little Genevieve disappeared," Visci answer- ed sadly.—" Do you know, I have never discovered any trace of her or Lucreee. Poor child, poor little girl! I wonder where she is now." " Perhaps you may see her again some day." "11 has long been my dearest wish; but it will never be fulfilled now. If ever you do see her once more, say that I"— " Visci 1" As the last words fell from the Italian's lips, his head hung forward, and he fell from his chair. For a moment he lay motionless then raised his face slightly and smiled. A thin stream of blood trickled down his fair beard, staining it scarlet. He lay quietly on Maxwell's shoulder. "Do not be alarmed," he said faintly.1 "It has come at last.—There are tears in your eyes, Fred. Do not weep for me. Do not forget Carlo Visci, when you see old friends; and when you meet little GenevieVe tell her I forgave her.—Good•byo, old friend Take hold of ray hand. Let the look in your honest faee once more. It is not; hard to die Fred. Tell them that my last Words- -desu, Mercy 1" The Tyranoy of Unionism. Mayor Hewitt, of New York, who ire. qntly propounds some new idea, which, moreover, is generally good, has made pub- lic a suggestion which will be heartily eecond. ; ed by thousands of the quiet, sensible Amer- ' ioans who have succeeded in making this country what 11 18, in spite of the howling Iquaelee from every clime who try to advertise theneselves by attempts to interrupt its pro- gress, Not long ago, the wife of a Knight of Labor wrote a touching letter to the editor of one of the daily papers, begging him to interfere with his great infinence to prevent Ia strike from being ordered, , Her husbend she said, had 'steady 'work at satisfactory Iwages, and they were living comfortably. , and laying up something for the next winter. • If the Executive Committee of the Dial riot lAssenably should order a strike, as it was re- ported they intended to do, to show "sym- pathy" with some other deluded Assembly, I or on some other pretext, he would be coin- ; polled to give up his work, perhaps through I the busy season, and his poor family must look forward to a winter -of privation and misery. She knew by sad experience what this meant, and in the extremity of her helplessness before the might of the "colos- sal organization," she appealed to the only power that she knew to be capable of opposing it. A few clays later, a member, no of the "colossal' organiza- tion," but of the class which that organiza- tion systematically hounds and persecutes, wrote to Mayor Hewitt, calling in also his aid against its unrelenting malice, The writer was a plasterer, standing, as he said, I "at the head of his profession," and with a wife and five dependent on him for the means of existence. Three years ago, being apparently, a man of considerable energy, and disposed to better his condition, he agreed to a proposition to work by the hour instead of by the day. For this violation of its principles, he was fined fifty dollars by the Plasterers' Society. It is hardly neces- sary to say that working -men with large families to support do not usually have , fifty dollars about them, and he could not pay his fine. The Society thereupon corn- ' menced the well-known persecutions by , which working ellen are terrified into silence and submission. A watch was set upon the I delinquent and if he f euncl,employment any- where, notice was given to hie employer to ' discharge hitn, under threat of the usual penalties. A fter going in this way from place to place, he had an opportunity to speak with the "walking -delegate" who had come to deprive him again of his living. The delegate informed him that he had imperative orders to "knock him off" where ' ever he found him, but said that if he would ' appear before the Society leaders that even- ing he might make an arrangement with ' them. He went to them accordingly, and I was told that by the payment of eighteen ' dollars and a half he might obtain a "per- : mit" to work. Not having eighteen dol- lars and a half, any more than the prev- ious fifty, he could not buy a permit to I earn his living, and the next morning his employer discharged him, without assign- ing any reason. Not knowing what else to do the victim of his inability to pay to the , "colossal organization" the money which I the organization prevented him from earn- ing appealed to the Mayor, as a "defender t of the rights of American citizens," to tell him what to do next. Mr. Hewitt replied in his usual sensible way, saying that he had received many other letters of the same sort, and, while conspiracies to take away a • man's business, like the one described, were illegal and indefensible, and subjected those guilty of them to the payment of damages, he understood how impracticable it was for I a poor working -man to obtain damages by process of law. He suggested, therefore, that an association might be formed in New York for the purpose of defending "the rights of honest men who are refused the 'opportunity to earn their own living," and . promised to co-operate with any citizens r who might think with him that the oc- casion was one needing "prompt and earn- est action." The People's Palace. Some years ago, in one of his charming novels, Mr. Walter Besant described a pal- ace of magical beauty and loveliness, great in size and enriched by every art, and this great, grand and lovely edifice was built for the pleasure of no oae man, or class of men, because it was the Palace of the People. To it they could come freely, and listen to grand music, wander through its splendid galleries and gardens, rest in its pleasant chambers, and enrich and amuse the mind with its books and pictures. The "Bitter Cry of Outcast London." was ringing in the I ears of the wealthy, and the poet -novelist's airy vision attracted the attention of genuine I philanthropists. As a result the first official act of the Queen during her jubilee year, was to formally open the Queen's Hall, the nucleus around which a great people's palace is to grow. The Queen's Hall is 130 feet Ling, 75 feet wide, and is very lofty. It is built of brick, and as it is to be entirely sur- rounded by other buildings, its exterior is plain and unfinished. A broad. gallery ex- tends along both sides, and in the apse a splendid organ is th stand. The ceiling is an Italian coffered- one, adorned with stained ! glass, end the coloring throughout the hall is uniformly delicate, yet brilliant. The side galleries have their fronts broken into bays, and at the back of these galleries stand the statues of twenty-three famous queens, 1beginning with Queen Esther. The great hall is to be used for popular concerts, but it is th be free during the day. The great open rotunda and entrance will be at one end and behind the hall are to be library rooms, recitation and recreation rooms, board rooms and parlors. A swimming bath, to be the present of Lord Rosebery, will occupy a portion of the Side, and there is to be a covered winter garden and pro- menade, gymnasiums, schools of cookery, schools for dressmaking awl school -rooms of all torts. In connection with the palace, theta is to be a splendid Technical School builb lay the London braperit', Company at an expense of g20.000. "Speak to trie, Carlo—speak to mei" Never again CM this aide of the grave. And sea the noble-heerted Italian died; and on the'third day they buried hint in a single grave under the murmuring pines. No will to remain longer tove. One last solitary evening tamble, Maxwell took oat - side the city wall ere hie departure AS he walked alinig wrapped. in his own sad thoughts he did hot heed that his feobstepe 'Were being (legged. Then with a, sudden instinct a danger, he turned round. The a Olean Bteast Of It." Softhe8rtet1 Old' Lady (when she heerd the story teed eseisted applieant)—Dear me! Ali, poet man 1 You /inlet iedeed have gone threligh, dreadful Tramp -4 h'lleve yet, mum An' what's 18111 wusi intl./hp 1 was nearly trays con. victed 1 TheStoittig *taxi ou the leokent for a "weft pladee,through mt disitkis for honest hard work, San nd �ie Lttidor luS hat ;.11q17 (01 BIJAtACOli,l)RJ3fICS,, The Meet at lieett Beverages tlyon the nu- Imina System , Witii tho advent of warm weethee 'the , demand for liquids to supplythe wants of the body beoothes vai stly ncreased A inedie,1 writer in St, Louis, treating of this subjeet, says; The heat excites the skin to exalted action, for it is mostly by means of the perspiration that the temperature of the body is kept down to its natural level, 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit. When the supply of liquids is scanty, or much below the actual demands, the greatest dangers are in- curred. These are from aocumnlation of waste materials, which are naturally re- moved by way of the skin and kiclueyo, besides the still graver (immediate) risks of sunstroke and heat exlmustion. Bever- ages of some kind must be taken, and we may with some advantage study the claims of those offered from which th make a se- lection. The heat of the body may be modified to some extent by the use of fluide welled to any degree from that of the normal standard to the freezing point, the ice itself may be swallowed when necessary to hasten the reduction of temperature. When beverages are teken cooled in this way the amount needed is reduced. Hence the instinctive Craving for refrigerating drinks in summer, The amount necessary for keeping down the temperature being less, makes such drinks advantageous in many ways. Too great bulk is avoided; this lessens desten- sion of the stotnach and consequent weaken- ing of digestion. Profuse perspiration is apt to irritate a eeneitive skin and. cooling beverages lessen the necessity for such in- creased work of the sweat apparatus. OBJECTIONS AGAINST ICED DRINKS. Many objections have been raised against ice -water and cold drinks generally. Most of these have no real foundation. A few ot them may be noticed for the purpose of showing their weakness. Thus the bad teeth observed so often among Americans, which has made dentistry in that countrykan art that has nearly reached perfection, are often attributed to the use of iced beverages. But the dental imperfection is to be noticed in every village and farm -house, where such drinks are practically unknown. If the universal use of the frying -pan, hot bread and the American fire were blamed for their results the truth would be much nearer approached. Bad cookery is the main cause of dental imperfection. That dyspepsia—the American disease— is due to defective cooking and imperfect chewing of the food and too great haste in eating, is undoubtedly the case in most in. ; still there are many who believe that iced drinks are responsible for almost every variety of indigestion. When di- gestion is in progress there is a large flow of blood towards the stomach. The lining of that organ is in a state of congestion. The presence of a little ice -water or the like can scarcely be felt for a moment when millions of blood vessels are carrying the blood to and from it at a tremendous speed and that at a temperature of HO degrees Fahrenheit. The effect of a moderate amount of ice -water would be simply a little stimulation, increasing rather than retard- ing the digestive process. Of course no one advocates the filling of the stomach with ice -water or other fluid at any tempera- ture during the digestive process, but a moderate amount of the former can do no harm—in 1 fact, is rather beneficial. This cannot be said of alcoholics in any form, or of hot or very warm, beverages. All these interfere more or less seriously with diges- tion, as experiments have abundantly dem- onstrated. THE BENEFITS OF WATER DRINKING. That water promotes appetite and diges- tion when taken with meals is shown by the fact that no "anti -fat" system of diet is so remarkably successful as that in which no drinks are permitted to be taken with meals or until two hours after them. When it is an object th reduce the amount of the blood, as in certain heart affections, the dry diet system is of great service, but the kidneys must be in excellent working order or this system must prove injurious. As a matter of fact, however, a considerable number of people in every community take tho little fluids of any kind. They are afraid th drink when warm, do not desire it when cool, will not take it before or with meals, fearing to weaken digestion, and avoid drinking after meals, fearing an uncomfort- able sensation of fullness. Liver and kid- ney troubles, headaches, neuralgia, Am., are often th be traced th this unnatural avoid- ance of fluids. It is probable that a large proportion of the benefits derived from mineral springs is th be attributed th the taking of unusual quantities of water. Hence the reputation of many a health re- sort is based upon drinking water, not upon any real virtue resident in any special quantity of that imbibed. Enough, perhaps, has been said of the dangers of well water, ot impure ice, and that obtained from defective cisterns. The purity of drinking water cannot be too carefully watched The ordinary filter only makes matters worse. The materials through which the water flows soon become a breeding place for the lower orders of vegetable life, while they strain out the coarser particles of dirt and give it a delus- ive appearance of purity. The unglazed porcelain flit' r is mostly free from such objections. This takes out all organized bodies, and when the ice is not brought into contact with water thus filtered it gives all the security that can be required against taking into the system the germs of disease There is no security against the products of putrefaction passing through such a filter. In fact, the only way tee guard against these is to watch the source of water supply with unceasing vigilance. LeletmeAme. I Water as a oeverage, iced or at the ordi- nary temperature, is frequently modified to • render it more agreeable to the palate or stomach,or slightly nourishing or stimula- ting. The addition of a vegetable acid, such as lemon or lime juice or vinegar, usually with sugar hi some form, makes the drink agreeable to the taste, more digestible and slightlynourishing. Such liquids i satisfy thirst n snutller amounts than would plain water at ordinary tetriperatore. Some- times a mineral acid—sulpherie, muriatio or phosphorie—give the requisite sour to the "lemonade." Of these the dilute phos- pherie acid is the least harmful. When taken in large quantities it is pretty sure to impair digestion. Muriatic and suipiniebe acids have no place in beverages except in eertain fevers and other conditions of actual disease. They should haver be used eel habitual drinks. Because phosphorus is an essentiel ingredient in brain, nerve and bone, it has been thought that it might, be , well to inorease the amount in the body by ' corttintially talcieg Some compound contain- ing it into the stomach. There is an im- mense foholint si hambug in this, which the enteeprising Manufacturer 18 not elm to Utilize. The phosphates, tdoiig with the different forme of pheephotie acid, do not add to the phosphorite in the body Whieh ' ean be used 10 advantage in building up neW bone, nerve er brain, n has _alrea,dy Qbtene odoinvie onswro use onpalaaso4naltdllaeatrteeend anteraaned; , Combined with iron it makes au elegant, pocbotaulltIpat ilia: t/iilobenne:tpetrteear,p, .te.hraniitTelaeonrfi ra itp:itifirte r .i.pii:ole.:ifsvuealsrsiiinpinici marvelous restorative preperties by reason of the phosphorus present in this used -up 1 The addition of oatmeal to drinking water otaBEat, WATBB. AND c.K;11,1) TEA. makes it nutritive, satisfying and agreeable to the stomach, For laborers it inakes a useful addition to the diet, costs but little and repays the small outlay in the form of ' increased ability to perform labor, either ; physical or mental. IDiluted oold tea has long been known as an agreeable, slightly stimulating beverage. For this, or any other purpose, the tea leaves must not be boiled. lf they are, a largo amount of tannin is extracted along I with thc aromatiC and stimulating princi- 1 pies, and this sadlyiinterferes with digestion m many individuals. A pinch of soda bicarbonate—ordinary "baking-soda"—add- ed to the leaves at the time boiling water is poured over them, and the "steeping" pro- cess limited to six or seven minutes, will remove almost all objections frorn cold or iced tea as an agreeable. stimulating summer drink. Coffee treated in a similar way may be used instead, but it contains much less of the stimulating principles. A Case in Pomt. The people who claim to have become convinced, through some process of reason- ing peculiar to themselves, that labor organ- izations and strikes are useful to working people, rarely pay any attention to facts or sta- tistics, or the report of the present condition of the iron trade in England would interest them. Every one has seen or heard of Wolverhampton, the once prosperous centre of the English "Black Country," whose coal and iron brought cotnfortand wealth to many thousands of the more or less thrifty people who inhabited it. Twenty years ago there were, within three of the towns, forty-seven smelting furnaces in blest. There is now but one, and the owner of that, a man who has been in the business for nearly fifty years, and has paid out in wages not far from ten million dollars, is about to abandon it. There is no change in the natural condi- , tions. The owner of the furnace also owns mines, which, as he says, would furnish ma- terial th carry on the works for fifty years longer, but the miners, by combinations and terrorism, have succeeded in establishing an eight-hour day; and as they cannot, or will not, in eight hours a day dig out enough ore for him to ennable him, after converting it into iron, to sell it for what it costs him, he has concluded to put a stop to what, he says, "was once a profitable business, but is now a heavily -losing one." With his abandonment of his mines and furnaces, the five hundredmen, with their wives and child- ren, who have been living on the wages which he paid them, will be turned adrift on the world, many of them to become a burden on public charity. If they had wished, or, we might say, if they had had loyalty and sense of honor enough, to do faithfully the work which he employed them to do, both they and he would be in the full enjoyment of present prosperity and confidence in the fu- ture ; but they chose to listen th the gospel of shirking and disloyalty so industriously preached by loquacious adventurers, and reap the fruits of the successful reduction of their doctrines to practice. In their case no hope remains. While carpenters, masons and mechanics can usually get work of a certain sort after cutting themselves off from regular employment, a miner or an iron- worker is helpless. Probably Mr. Sparrow, in consideration of their necessities, would willingly allow his men th extract ore from his mines, and and try to smelt it and sell it on their own account; but the mines are filled with water, and must be pumped out before any ore can be dug from them. He has no more money to sink in the business, and they have none to hire pumps with; and no one, knowing their peculiar view of fidelity th obligations, would trust them with any, so they would have to remain idle, even if their late employer should make them a gift of his property. A Scotch Girl in a Trance. A rather curious case has occurred in Ans. truther, Fifeshire. A little girl about eleven years of age, named Isabella Millar, took ill with scarlet fever about two months ago. She was getting better when she got a fright, and the fever developed into °home' or St. Vitus' dence. It was of a very virulent type, and to abate the violence of the convulsion fits chloroform was administered. For thirty- five days after this she lay as if dead; her breathing became scareely perceptible, and never recognizing anyone, although she opened her eyes every now and again. Food was frequently given but never retained. Dr. Fladcman on the thirty-sixth day made an effort to feed her by means of inserting a small tube in her nostrils and sending the liquid dr wn with a syringe. Next morning the girlropened her eyes for the first time in a fortnight', and recognized her mother. Since then the doctor has fed her twice daily in the same way, and there has been a marked im- provement. Although not yet able to speak, the girl em now make signs fee what she wants. TXXURANOE 'TEMA. Trgasp Inside the door eler • They hid a Witter bar ; 1 have 4 hotter ot these ehuttere FQ1' thoiN ih weillidad spirit nutters When flat the tempter's dart htrilres throU0 the young inan's ho0d, And whenee he gees astray. weAk 1410 eARY MY+ Ah, many go therein To Bed the path of sip, Arid downward go, downward go, To further depthe below; And one may hear the ringing glasses As by the open door he p88800. The lights are eeiclem out, But I have fear arid doubt To Mine of 800008 behind those shutters For there tee nueut talker stutters. And wise inen play the fool, And old men drawl and drool ; Young nabobs put 00 4118 And talk of great WW1's, Until their tongues aro thick And gibberisa grows thick; Then ri t ends the scene Behind these shades of green, And they go home to anxious inothe , Who dare not breathe tiled; woes to hers. The scorn of God is there And murky is the air, And eyes grow dim behind those shutters; Men go from thence to fall ingutters ; Some reel from bridges high, Some on the rail track lie. And meet their death. some leap To ruin fast asieeP, And often on the spot They fall by fat tl shot; The coroners do well If half the truth they ten - We read the records by the column In dismal chapters long and solemn. Two OPINIONS OF WHISKEY. Bob Ingersoll's Opinion. I send you some of the most wonderful whiskey that ever drove the skeleton from a feast or paint- ed landscapes in the brain of men. It is the mingled souls of wheat and Corn. In it you fiud the sunshine and shadow that chard each other over the Alowy fields the breath of June, the carol of the lark, the dews of the night, the wealth of the summerand autumn's rich content, all gold. en with imprisoned light. Drink it, and you will hear the voice of men and maidens singing the " Harvest Home, " mingled with the laughter of children. Drink it, andyou will feel within your blood the star -led dawns, the dreamy, tawny dusks of many per- fect days. For forty years this liquid joy has been within the happy staves of oak, longing th touch the lips of man. • A Prohibitionist's Opinion. I send you some of the most wonderful whiskey that ever filled with snakes the boots of man, or painted towns in car- dinal red. It is the mingled souls of corn and strychnine. In it you will find the ine aniline that made the marshal chase the shadows over West- ern hills; the breath of flame, the whistle of police, the hood- lum wagon, and thir- ty days in prison for thinking you could fight. Drink it, ?lid •you will hear the voice of comrades singing "When Johnny Comes Ma r c hing Home," mingled with the laughter of the boys. Drink it, and you will feel within your head a sense of swelling—the boozy bliss of many high old sprees. Forsixty days this liquid fire has been within he meek 4 and mim'eid demi- john, lo ging t o scorch the throat of man. POWDERLY ON WHISKEY. Now, a word about the great curse of the labouring man—strong drink. Had I 10, 000,000 tongues, and a throat for each • tongue, I would say to each man, woman and child here to -night :—" Throw strong drink aside as you woulc' an ounce of liquid hell." It sears the conscience it destroys everything it touches, it reach° int,o the family circle and takes the wife you have sworn to protect and drags hee down from her pinnacle of purity into that house from which no decent woman ever goes alive. It induces the father to take the furniture from his house, exchange it for money at the pawn shop and spend the proceeds in rum. It dams everything it touches. I have seen it in very city east of the Mississippi, and I know that the most damning cum to the , laborer is that which gurgles from the neck I of the bottle. I had rather be at the head lof an organization having 100,000 temper- ' f 1 ate honest earnest men than at the headof I an organization of 12,000,000 drinkers, whether moderate or any other kind. The devil gave a hermit the choice of three great vices, one of which was drunk- enness. The hermit chose this as being the least sinful; he became drunk and com- mitted the other two. IWill farmers continue th make gambling and intemperance respectable, by lending their aid and patronage to fairs where wheels of fortune, race courses, and drink- ing booths furnish the chief attraction? It is not too early to begin to consider this question, and it should take only two sec- onds to decide it.—[Western Plowman. I Yns OR No ?—The English Baptists have this year given a hint to all who are making arrangements for the accommodation of dele- gates to eccelesiastical assemblies which is worth thinking about and also worth acting upon. In the circulars issued to those who are willing to extend hospitality to clerical or lay delegates, the following question is asked :—" Would you perfer as guest an abstainer or a non -abstainer? smoker or non-smoker? A Fighting Parson. It is told of the late Rev. Dr. Granville Moody, the "fighting parson," that once at Piqua, Ohio, where he was preaching, he made a patriotic remark that rather cut Mr. Frank McKinney, a local Democratic leader, and McKinney threatened to whip him, You may get hurt if you try it," replied , the minister. But McKinney wasn't afraid I and attacked him on the public street, In ' a twinkle Dr. Moody grappled with him, got his head "in chancery" and pounded him until he begged for mercy, when he let him go, saying, "I told you, Frank, I might hurt yon." In the scuffle they tumbled over O boy ancl broke his leg. Mr. Moody at once , took charge of the youngster, paid the sur- geon's bill, and more, and sent an account to McKinney for half the expenses, which the latter paid. Man. and His Shoes. How muOli a man is like his aloes For histanCo, both a soul inay lose; Both hav,e been tanned, both hewn niade tight By cobblers ; both get left and right. Both need a mate to he complete 1 And both are made to go on feet; They both need healing, of t are gold, And both in time willl turn to mold& With shoee the last is first, with men The first shall shall be the last ; and when The shoes wear Mit, they're mended new— When men wear out, they're men dead tob They both are trod upon* and both Ni ill to3ad on others, nothing loath, Both have their ties, and both inline, When polished, iri the world to shine; And both peg out. Now welild 360 choose To be a men or be his shoes ------.ardweirkomm.—am,—*---- • A mail train on the Pennsylvanio road has been successfully run from Altoona te Pittsberg, a distalate of nearly 120 Miles, without the Use of a stick of wood or a lump of coal, crude p e t role u m being the only fuel. Too Poetical. Lady (to husband in the background). " Isn't it exquisite, George? Nonce how delicately and harmoniously the tones of the colors are blended. That pale turquoise blue catches so beautifully the shell pink plush of the brocaded flower. What c16 ii <6 think of it, George ? Is it not a ve eble poem. And only sixteen dollars a y d 1" Husband. "Yes dear, it is a poem ; but I think something in simple prose will wear as long and won't cost so much money." — I The steamer Champlain, from Chicago for Cheboygan, caught fire .at the mouth of Grand Traverse Bay, Lake Michigan, at midnight on Thursday, and was burned to ' the water's ! le. Between 20 and 30 of the P?Ationgers an crew were drowned, the sur- vivors being rescued by boats from the shore after floating an hour and a half. I. A daring train robbery was performed at Lgo o'clock the other morning near Sohn. lenburg, Texas, on the Southern Pacific rail. ! way, As the trein drew up at ,the station two men with drawn revolvers mounted the 1 . engme, covered the engineer, ahd forced him 1 to pull the trein to the open prairie, where ' a : fire Was burning, around which stood 1 eight or ten men twined with Winchester , rifles. The two robbers on the engine stood ; guard over the man at the throttle while 1 the others Went through the mail, express ' and passenger cars. Nearly all the pas- sengers Were &Sleep and unaware of what Was going on Until they Were aroused by the robbers. A New Yorker lost $rO and a, ''''''' gold watch, a gentleman from Mexico lost $406, and other passengers were relieved of lesser amounts. .ff JC 8.1 del