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The Exeter Times, 1888-2-23, Page 3.1! 11 By M. E. ]13,A1)1)011.0 4.039r ,,,LADY Aceiate's Seeeier," " WyertenD'e Wentra" Ere, Ego. Mew Finn levitiesnee.) CHAPTER W.-- (Ceneritsese,( He looked up smilingly as Adrian enter - pa neannounced, having been alwers free to go M as one of the family !since his daps of pupilage. " lAY dear bey, 1 hevezet seen you for an • age," said the Vicar, holding out hie thin 1 right hand, while his left atill clasped his ' book. "What have yeti been doing with yourself ?" e' "Making Borne newslisencintances, Vicar, and I want you teneetg g el meet them next ,,,, Saturday evening."1 Adrian entered ' moo again upon es, neeeic description of eiolonel Deverill and nenlaughters, finding t, more ?sympathetic listeeer in the Vicar than he had foend in Mrs. Ereemantle. Reganald Rockatone was a rnan of pecul- iar delicacy of feeling, not deeply learned, eut exquisitely critical, knowing a few %adhere well, worehipping a few poet with all hie mind and all his heal t, and eeeing all thiage from their moat spiritual standpoint. "le must be sad for these young women to be motherless, and with a wild Irish father," he aaid, gently; "and the married girl—she is little more than a girl, I take it --sad for her to be separated trom her bus- brtel, f "She is just now expecting him home," ntia Adrian, "and she seems in excellent spirits." The Vicar was a bachelor, and his own master in all things. The living was not one of the plums of the Church, but the income was ample for a man whose tastes were of the simplest, and who had some means of his own. He was a man of excellent family, a gentleman to the core of his heart. His poor parishioners adored him, his friends among the county poeple tolerated him as a harmless eccentric. The small professional people, village doctor, market -town solici. tors, considered him stuck•up. He refused all invitations to dinner from this class, though he would take a cup of afternoon tea with their wives now and then to show them ' bore no malice. " Why should I dine out unless it be to ne more pleasantly than I oan at home ?" ! argued, when he talked over his parish col his idiosynoraoies with his intimate 'Send Lady Bolfield. "My evening by the eside or in my garden is always precious , me. I have the books I love for my impanions, and their company never palls. tft my age a man's leisure evenings are nem- hred. fie cannot garner them too careful - Why should I go out to sit an hour and at a gaudily aeraneed cenventionte f)nner table, surrourided by petty formali- ea, in an atinosphexte of roast mutton, and leen people who look as if their evening 1' ass was a kind of armour, to hear the wiliest of small talk, to struggle with ir- pressible ya.wies, to endure all the agonies v. bad attendance from a Omen butler. hen I come here—or to houses like this -my body bailie in a luxury that I am sy. Amite enough to ?Ippreciate, simple as I am i my own surroundings; while my, mind •epands and soar@ in unison with ;minds eat think only noble thoughts. Here we jelk of books and of spiritual things; in the triage or the town the talk is of politics or t persons—hovers between Gladstone's ' 'en :speech and the latest scandal about the ' srd of"Onerdia.ns." , o Eelfield Abbey, therefore, the Vicar .ays gladly :went when he was bidden. dy Belfield's low voice and gentle eympa, etio manner had a peculiar charm for him. •e far as that great tender heart of his had ser gone out to a woman, it had gone out s her years ago, in the early days of her idowhood, when she came home to the ,bbey with her two boys, a stricken mourn- -, deeming her sorrow inconsolable above fl sorrows. lie, a grave man of seven td thirty, old for his yea -s, had comforted id advised her, had helped her in the .!inging up of her sons, and had prepared 'sem for Eton and coached them for Oxford. e, who had never on any other occasion scrificed that golden leisure which he sized so highly—the leisure to read old ,oks and muse and dream over them—had e Lady Belfield's sake toiled at the very ements of classical education, at declen- ens and conjugations'at Cornelius Nepoe id Livy. In Adrian he had found a pupil eter his own heart, and at five and twenty ldrian was still his pupil, still delighting read a Greek play with bim, proud to !genes a tough passage in Plato or .eistotle ; or to talk about Horace as if my had both knnwn him intimately. ,With Valentine education had been a ugher job. Clever, idle, arrogant, self. einionated ; from a very early age always nvinced that he knew more, or understood tter, than his master, to teach him had ten like hewing shapely stones out of the ei dest rock. Thematerial was there euld one but quarry it; but the labour was igrateful, and often seemed hopeless. The 1101 never wanted to learn what the master fished to teaoh him. When the good Vi - r opened the ./Eneid, the boy cried, "A ,or classics," and was hot upon reading t'l Quixote in the original, angry with his rate because he would not turn aside 't on that duty to teach him Spanish. e.Von are a good Spanish scholar • my t'ither told me so when she was sounding ar praises,' said Valentine e" why won't lu teach me Spanish? " Because yon are very backward in your . tin. Stick to that, Val, and it will help m with your Spanish by and bye." eg I shan't care about Spanish by and bye. ,eant to learn it now." his was a sample of many snob argn- snts. The lad was obstinate and wrong. each but the Vicar never gave way to t i whims; and rhaps this was the reason et Valentine I ked Mr. Rookstono better (4en anyone eke ileCha.dworth. 'But with advanoing manhood, Valentine leibited characteristics and qualities lich filled his mother's loyal friend with prehension. Ho was uneasy when the ung man was at the Abbey. He was 1. ere Uneasy when he was away, dreading t every day should bring time evil dd. 8 to the anothen He who had studied dy Belfield's thoughts and inclinations as bsely as only one who Mildly loves ores ifly a character, knew ! that to the ether's heart the` wayward mei wee the tre precious. '' She loves them both," he told himself ; she loves Adrian exactly at a good mother mild love a good son; but she loves the her one foolishlse blidly, einfully--if, in. ed, it be a sin te.nutke an idol ofpoor hu- inity." Ten minutee to eight on Saturday even - g, and the Vicar, alweye earliest of Lady elfield'e guests, was luxuriating in the glow a eplendul firm in a dravving-toone full of flit and colour, the perfume of hothouse Wetes and the litter of new books and riodieels, Latly Belfield eat in her fav. tAllst RIMITS Resenven,) °nate chair by the hearth, with her eye on the door. A kind of instinct told her that the Deverill party would be late. Adrian hovered about near the door, with a slightly nervous air, "That dear young man looks as if he ex - ended to be arreeted," said Mr. Rockstone, and then went on questioning Lady Belfield about the last book she had been reading. Re used to say that he had eo occasion to read new books on his own ammunt, Lady Belhelcl always kept him au courant. "An intelligent woman's synopsis of a shallow book is always better then the book itself," said the Vicar. Mr. and Mre, Fremantle and their see Jack were announced as the clock struck eight. With the •Freemantle family there was always to, miliary exaccitude, they were all well drilled, even Lucy, the mild obeseP faced daughter had never been late fort; lesson or a Church servisa in her life. Mrs. Freemantle shook hands with Lady &Afield and looked round for the strangera. Mr. Freemantle was an excellent man with plenty of common sense but • no cultivation, and very little memory. He never opened a book, and he rarely listened to converse. lion, unless it had some direct bearing upon field sports, politics, in which lie waa faintly intereeted, or his own affairs. He had ut- terly forgotten that he had been asked to meet anybody in particular, and when it came so a quarter past eight and there was no anneuncement of dinner, he began to wonder whether Lady Belfield had changed ner 000k. Such irregularity was altogether abnormal. Lady Belfield and her friend talked of the parish, the sick and poor whom they saw al- most daily, the vicar joining in now and then, full of understanding and sympathy. Adrian still listened near the door and made believe to be entertained by Jack Free - mantle's account of a footbell match which had come off with eclat to Jack's side that afternoon. "We gave those fellows a tremendous licking; I had only just time to get home and drese," said Jack, n ho had the newly. washed look of a man who has dressed in a desperate burry. " Your friends are very late, Adrian,'' said his mother presently. "Da you think we ought to wait any longer ? ' "My dear mother, the first time, of course we must wait. I know you'll for- give us, Mrs. Freemantle." "1 forgive you with all my heart, Adrian, but the Wear and my husband have bot been lookang at the clock every dve minute and I am afraid they are beginning to fee rather vindictive towards these friends o yours." "Are you really expecting anyone," ask ed Freemantle innocently, "1 thought i was your cook that was behind time." "Lady Belfield's servants are never un punctual, John. Didn't I tell you we wer to meet Colonel Deverill." "Deverill! ah, to be sure' the man wh has taken Morcomb. I usedto see him i Londosa five and twenty years ago; he wa in the Guards, a South of Ireland man." The time -piece climbed the half hour, an the door flung open, "Colonel Deverill an Miss Daverill, Mrs. 13eddeley." The matron led the way, lovely, smiling deliciously uneonscions of blame, spate graceful, in a tight -fitting ruby velvet gown, and with only one ornament, a largo dianioni locket which a duchess might not have die dained to wear. Helen followed, clad in some limp creamy fabric, with neithe jewels nor gold, only a cluster of white lilie on her shoulder. If this was an msthetic toilet, aestheticism was very becoming to Miss Devel No one apologised for being late. The Morcomb party slipped into their place sin the easiest manner. Mr. Freemantle was told off to take the younger sister into din- ner. The Vicar was assigned to Mrs. Free - mantle Sir Adrian took Min. Baddeley. His mailer had told him that it must be so, Jack followed his hostess and the colonel as if he had been an aide-de-camp. The dinner was as as any dinner Mr. Free - mantle could remember in that pleasant house. Helen sat between him and Sir .Adrian, and prattled delightfully to both. The sisters were both full of talk and laugh- ter, gayer and more spontaneous than any girls Adrian had ever met. They played into each other's hands, held each other up to ridicule, bandied jokes with airiest touch --flew from subject to eubjeot with inex. haustible vivacity; and yet their voices never grew loud or harsh, their conversation never degenerated into noise and clatter. To Adrain the evening passed as if by en- chantment. It was nearly midnight when the Deveiill carriage drove away. He and the sisters had pledged themselves to all manner of engagements. He was to go over to tea next da, and see their stud. He, who never hunted, was to be at the meet on Monday, and was to potter about a little, and show them the country. "Adrian," remonstrated his mother, whose quick ear had caught that mention of hunt ing, " you know Dr. Jason said you must not hunt." "He said I =isn't ride across country, mother. He never forbade my jogging about the lanes on a steady cob; on the con- trary, he recommended it." "He has han uuiy imamate health from his childhood," said Lady Hatfield to Mrs. Baddeley, with an apologetic air. "I may be forgiven if I an over careful of him." Adrian escorted the ladies to :their car- riage. "What do you think of them, Seelig ?" asked Constance Belfield of her friend, while her son was out of the room. Mr. Free. mantle and the Vicar were talking politics, Jack was yawning in a corner'exhausted after having shouted ail his bestsonge—"If doughy deeds my lady please," and "The stirrup cup," and "Old London Bridge." "What I think of them may be summed up, in one word--Deetoenotts." Oh, Sophy.e "For Adman most decidedly dangerous. Indeed, I believe the mischief is as good as done already. But. perhaps you would not object to his marrying Miss Deverill." " My dear Sophy, she is a perfeet stranger o me. How could I approve?" "Well, you will have to approve—or to disapprove very strongly." "1 can gee that .Adrian is struck with her; but there is no reason to conclude he must needs be desperately in love 1" "Beason 1 Fiddlesticks 1 I tell you he ite desperately in love. When did reasona,nd love ever go together 1 When a young Mc has been *bottled up for the beat a haystack liffs in a village, hie heart is as part of his after a dry stammer," Arid with this einpoetieal comperition Fre,einasittle drew her Canton crape ShAterl round her ishoelders, Ordered het hug band and son Off With nod, bade her friend goge night, tine rashest on t of the rooms LATEST FROM EUROPE ine 3E olininnue.) tee eve. s NVLBELETB. Ne•rWrox0Onitigehludeent. Skeeistellee The English Governmeut have abandoned for the pregent the further protsecution of Mr, William Otlenen. The late fire in Millbrook destroyed pro- perty to the veleta of between twelve and fourteen thousand dollars. Chancellor Boyd has given judgment, ire - moving Archibald Campbell trom hie office of liquidator of the Central Bank. Liquidators Howland. and Gooderham, of the Central Bank, will be in a position to pay a dividend to depositors as soon es they can get the record of claims into shape. It is asserted that ex-Qeeen :Isabella re- cently invited the chiefs of her family to a conference to discuss the prospeots of over- throveing the Spanish regency. At a main meeting in the village of Forest recently, it was decided to apply for ittoor. pOratiOn as a town. The village has a pop- ulation of over two thousands Chatham was visited by a fire at two o'clock the other morning which consumed property to the extent of about $25,000, and throws forty men out of employment. Track -laying on the Westport division of the Brockville, Westport and Sault Ste. Marie railway is finished, and regular trains between Brockville ancl Westport will be run in a few days. Premier Greenway states that a contract has been entered into and the finances ar- ranged for the construction of the Red River Valley railway, and that the road will be into Portage la Prairie by Ootober let. Owing to the less favourable symptoms of • Lownort, Feb, 14.—There seems to•day greater chance of the preivarvatiou peace than has been apparent before in many menthe, h'or the first time, I should say, eine° Autumn, the balance of probabilities is distinctly against an outbreak of hostile, ties, Of course any day may bring 601/10, thing to tip the scales the other way with a malevolent lurch, but for the moment the best informed people here feel relieved of apprehension. Lord Salisbury's epeeoh hes served to put the crowning stone on this edifioe of hope. • Ile, to all intents and purpoiles, ranged England on the side of the Ceotral Euro- pean alliance. Ilia words have been weed- ed an attention on the Continent scarcely leas than Bismarck's. In one important re speot he supplenaents and conspletes Bis- marck by speaking boldly on the alibied which the German Chancellor had to handle with circumspection, Germany could not promise to interfere to keep the Ruseiane out of Bulgaria, even it Austria went in, and Vienna and Pesti' both noted keenly and gloomily this reservation; but England can interfere, and he practically eays she will, and that gives Austria an ally whose presence is a fair compensation for Germany's reserve on this particular point of Bulgaria. Thus the cordon of the league of peace is made so strong and compact that nobody believes Russia will be mad enough to try the Crown Prince, Dr. Mackenzie has de- and break it. layed his departure from San Remo. The Queen is very anxious about the Crown Princess, whose nervous system, owing to the continued strain of the 13.st few months, is getting seriously out of order. —4)11e0.— A Hunter's Narrow Escape. On one occasion I was aecending the Little Rangoon river with three natives and the mail bags, when we were hailed from shore by an Englieh hunter, who had been camp- ing out among the fierce wild animals and poisonous reptiles for aeventy days. He was entirely alone, and he had killed five leopards, three tigers, six or eight serpents and much other game. He had several fresh scars M prove a haud-to-hand conflict with t a wounded tiger, and the bare fact of his t being alone in that country, exposed almost i to every danger one could dream of, was proof that he was a brave man. He had a raft at the bank, and was about to cross the stream. After a visit of a guar- t ter of an hour we took hem in tow and drop- h peel him down about a mile. We had just a headed for the other bank when I saw a large crocodile rise to thie surface just be- g hind the hunter's raft. The man had not entered the boat with us, but was sitting on e his traps on the raft. I called to him to ge shoot the reptile, and he rose and made as fi pretty a shot as one ever saw, striking the gt saurian in the eye and killing him at once. we were applauding ties shot when a dozen t of the monsters broke water all about the a raft. None of the reptiles paid the least at- tention to the boat, but seemed determined to make a closer acquaintance with the raft. The hu h d ti ifl d h This conclusion, however, is far from in- volving any relaxation on the part of Ger- many and Austria, in the work of prepara- tion for the worst. I hear from Berlin that a bill will be laid before the Prussian Land - tag this month or next appropriating twenty. two millions of dollars for doubling all the railway tracks on the eastern frontier to facilitate mobilization. The Austrian War Offise, too, is extremely busy in getting to• gether food supplies, which include large American c,ontracts of tinned meats. Aus- tria, also has taken off Herr Krupp's hands all the heavy siege guns he had made tor Turkey, who is unable to pay for them, and has ordered enough new ones to make the number 150. It is also to be noted that the Czar holds another war council; but these hinge will not avail to disturb the optimis- es reaction which has now so strongly set n. The same is true of the threatening turn aken by the malady of the Kron Prinz. Even his death now would scarcely shake he Bourses, whereas eix mouths ago it would eve been treeted as tantamount to a deolar- tion of war. People since then have got a learer insight into the situation, and see ow that Germany's course, wedged lin as he is between hostile powers, must be map - ed out for her by external happenings and ot byher own initiative. She will nct ght unless war is forced upon her. Then she ould fight as stoutly and fiercely under a pa - We Kaiser as under a bellicose one. Besides, he young William has made a very clear nd reassuring speech this week which has pleased everybody, and everybody feels, too, that he is going to be head of the German Empire in a very short timeasenenne nt er a a repea ng r e an e stood on his feet and banged away right and bit as coolly as you please. I ordered the men to cease rowing and got out my rifle, but before I had fired a single shot a mons- ter crocodile climbed upon the side of the light bamboo raft and upset it. We backed water very rapidly, and it waa not over thirty seconds before the boat and raft had bumped. At the same instant the hunter rose beside the boat, and one of the natives pulled him in. While he lay on the bottom of the boat we rowed him about and picked up such of his traps as were afloat. ft was very little we saved, as his firearms and pelts had been swiftly devoured by the croc- odiles. When I came to offer the man some spirits his looks had changed so that I could scarcely believe he was the same man. No one standing on the gallows -trap could have been more broken up. He had scarcely swallowed the whiskey when he began to cry, and he insisted that we should cover him up in the bottom of the boat. It was a whole fortnight before the man recovered his composure, while his nerve was gone forever. He who had stood with knife drawn awaitingthe rush of a tiger, and who carried marks to prove his bravery and his victory, had been totally broken up by an experience of less than two mishites in the water with a dozen crocodiles. It was the feeling that he was helpless that took his courage away. In the case of the tiger be felt that he had some little show. When he was flung into the water herealizsd that he had none. I have seen several men bung who "died game," and who got the credit of being brave fellows. It is all nonsense M talk about bravery in the fame of the hang -man. "Dy- ing game" is either the courage which comes from stimulants furnished by the jailer, or it is false enthusiasm due to the labors of the clergyman for many days paat.—(In- dian Mail. WINTER IN 0131 NORTH-WEST A despatch from Ottawa says :—" Mr. Nicholas Flood Davin, M. P., has arrived to attend the session. He says at Regina and in the neighboring country they ,have had a winter that has so far aatorushed everyone. Snow haa been falling within the last fortnight but previous to that there had been none, Something like a month ago a chinook breeze was experienc- ed, and it was generally thought that sleighs would have to be laid aside for wheels. The farmers who have stock are simply delighted with the weather, as they are not obliged to feed their cattle in the stable. Every- thing just now is prosperous, and people are in the higheat spirits." Wouldn't .Ask an Impossibility from Him, He vras a young attorney and ,had fallen oub With his best girl. He called M explain and,she would not listen to him. "But, my dear Miss Mattie," he im- plored, "1 want to tell you the truth about the matter and let you judge for yourgelf." "No, Mr. Jenkins," she said, positively, " I cannot permit i. I wouldn't ask you to 4.10 an impossibility for any sake or any - 1 odyee" She Had the Refiteal of Six Men. Dora—" Have you heard the lateab en- gagement t" Elora—" Oh, you Inman Mies Blank's Tha,t is nothing 'hew. She has been engag ed before. • NOra (whose father ie in the real eetate business)—" I hear thet she had the refusal of six' 151011 I" eeessereleae—r Two Kinds of Pride. A young man employed as teller in a bank ba one of our seaboard cities, at a moderate Balmy, after a year or two established his family in a luxurious home. His wife dressed in the extreme of fashion and gave expensive social entertainments; his child- ren were sent to fashionable scools,. while he drove some of the finest horses ui the city. The suspicion of the officers of the bank was at length aroused. He was proved to have embezzled large sums, was tried, con- victed and sentenced to a long imprison- ment. When he was asked what tempted him to commit an act of such egregious folly and crime, he replied : " Because I was resolved that my family should move in society. I would rather die than live in a town where they could not be- long to the first circle." Contrast this incident, which is a literal fact, with the story of an old family of France under the Bourbons, taken from pri- vate memoirs of that time. The house of Behan had been for centur- ies one of the noblest in Europe ; its chief, the Prince de Guemenee, held a high office under Louis XVI., and his wife was goever- ?tante of the queen's household. They both left Paris one day, taking with thein thirty million livres, which were not their own, and more than half of which the prince held in trust for poor worxing people. Owing to their rank, the money could not be recovered nor the thieves punished. The sister of the preece at once sacrificed her private fortune to pay the poor who had been defrauded, and retired for the rest of her life into a convent. Three other noble heads of the family withdrew from court, lived in seclusion in the country and devot- ed their incomes to make up the sum which the prince had embezzled. These sacrifices were made, not out of consideration for the criminal, but avowedly "that the honor of the family of Behan might remain untarnished in history." Family pride is undoubtedly a strong de- fence and safeguard in a young manes char- acter. But there are different kinds of family pride, and he must be careful to choose the right one. ACCIDENT ON THE C. P. R. Hum, One, Feb. 17.—The tremendous smash up which took place about a mile and a half east of here the other morning was between the Winnipeg express end a west- bound freight train. The °awe of the ac- cident is difficult to get at. The exprests was on time and had the right of way. The freight train should have remained at East Templeton, but being behied time the con- ductor thought he would run on to Hull and there let the express intea. The engineer of eaoh train saw the headlight of the other locomotive through the morning mist and whistled "down brakes," but the speed at which they were going—the express at forty and the freight at twenty-five miles an hour —was very little reduced before the two trains met in deadly embrace. Previous to the collision the train heeds jumped for their lives and all escaped without a scratch. Singular to say, nearly all the passengers on the express escaped with nothing but a se- vere shaking, only ono man'named Guertin, Miming his arni btokma. Ittook seven hours to clear the track, the damage to the rolling stook being tremendous. If you cannot speak well or your neigh. bore do not speak of them at all. • Virinterrt4n44 •eY 4 A, W448154408, rn3 tlect to -night of tbe winter time, elite deariessa mese and woe; The lonetfome Ivied, the sieet and the snow, Whet centinuelly eome arid go, And Me chill, white robe that enfoldeth The earth in P. 00Id eabraCe east as we shrowded the lona we loy'de And covered the pale, dead hoe, Tile blast rolls down from the icy nine, Where the lonely Antic Sea Iiath etormed, andented through Menne eears, ta terrible, desolate glee, The trees are reek'd aud the hills ate swept, And the vales are pant with snow By the furious sweep of the winds That eeeseleerily ebb and 110W. The treee are bare, and the Nile are dead ; And the vales are glom of their bloom; And wheee all was joy, e er the summer died, le now but a mocking tomb. Tho stream ie bushel aud the river still'cl, And the blvY Is MO dark as doom; And the ineselless swirl of the snow Makes more deadly the dismal gloom. Itelentlese winter, I by thy iron clasp, And withering ley breath; Earth's fregrant loveliness bath died, Thou art but a type of dp nth. And plums= hands emu beckoning sne, And voices as from the dead ; Dear Spirit voices of the long ago, And I bow rny btrieken head. My he ut le full, aed the tears will fall, And my thoughts are heavy with pain; l'oe weary of loss, and lonelinees, And this wild, dark wintery plain. 1 long, so long for the Summer titne, Sweet birds, and beautiful flowers; The sun.crown'd hills, the sone of the sea, The meads, and the greenwood bowers. The murmuring r Ile, and the soft twilight, The eigh of the wandering breeze; Caressing the sea, and dpng away To a whisper arnong the trees. But to -night as I dream, and the snow falls but, COMOR thie thouglit a,th a glad surprise : There'll be no grievous lees alai death, iSe TV enter en Paradem Art Thou Living Yet. [The Meting sweet tribute to a mother's memory is full of tender meaning, and is worthy of the poet sieger who wrote it.] Is there no grand immortal sphere Beyond the realm of broken ties, To fill the wants that mock us here, And drive the tears from weeping eyes; Where winter melte in endless spring, And June stands near with endlees flowere, Whore we may hear the dear ones sing Who loved us in this world of ours? 1 ask, and lo I my cheeks are wet With tears for one I eannot see; Oh, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou still remember me 7 1 feel thy kisses o'er me thrill, Thou unseen angel ot my life: I hear thy hyrnoe around me Fbrill An undertone to core and kale. Thy tender eyes upon me khine. As front a. being glorified, Till lam thine aud thou art mine, And 1 forget that thou hest died; I almost loge each vain regret, In visons of a life to bo; But, mother. Irrt thou living yet, And dost thou still remember mel The springtimes bloom, the summers fade, The waters blow along my way, But over every light or shade Thy memory lives by night and day; It soothes to sleep my wildest pain, Like some sweet song that cannot die, And, like the murmur of the main, Grows deeper when the storm is nigh, 1 know the brightest stars that set, Return to bless the yearning sea? But, mother, art thou living yet, And dost thou still remember me? I sometimes think thy soul comes back Prom o'er the dark and silent stream, Where last we watched the shining track To those green hills of which we dream ; Thy loving eme around me twine; My cheek blooms younger in thy breath, Till thou art mine and I am thine. Without a thought of pain or death, And yet, at times, my eyes are wet With tears for her I cannot !gre— en 1 mother, art thou living yet, And doet thou still remember me Love's Lament. SY WILL T. .141185. Alas! 0, cruel Fate I thy hand Rends deep my bosom now; Thy ruthlese power has crushed my weal, Regardless of the vow We both unto each other made And eealed with laving kis.. 0 I why this grief poignaut, flung Upon my smothered bliss 7 How much I loved thee, darling, dear, My love can ne'er express; I loved thee Fe that, now thou'rt gone, And left but this—a tress 01 thy luxuriant hair—for me To treasure all alone, My reeling brain my loss refutes - 1 can't believe thon'rt flown. In vain I lay me down to sleep; Thy memory all absorbs Ily thoughts, till e'en the moon's weird ray Thy phantom form begarba, And flitting past my staring eyes My fence, thee oan see. 0 I why, 0 / Beath, didst steal away My own true love from me? "Stand Thou the Test !" "I will refine them as silver is refined, and will try them as gold is tried, they shall call on My Name, and I will hear them.—Zech. ern, 9. Let not your heart, my friend, Be troubled, not afraid, Thy God relief will send, Trust, then, His promised old; He doth not sleep, Ile will thee keep, If thou on Him doth stay He'll guide thee on thy way I Trust not to self, my friend, I3ut put thy trust in God; Thy heart in meeknees bend Even 'neath His chastening rod; Stand thou the test, Tried gold is best, Front dross and 810 881 tree— The Master's image [reel Walk ever bravely an— ,God le at thy right hand, His strong arm lean upon— Mut shalt thou ever stand; By night or day Ile tnows the way, He'll guide thee with His eye Up to the ealmron high I Soon shall thy journey end In perfect rierme and love, Where angels hall attend And welcome thee :Move ; Life's race well run, Wel1 done 1 well done I Thus enter into rest Those that have stood the test 1 Toronto. Inns Nam. Medical Inspectors for Schools. Medical inspectors for schools are being gradually appointed in all the civilized states of Europe. The Hungarian Ministry of Education has just issued an ordinance for the appointment of public school doctors, It will be their duty to periedically inspect the school buildings as to their light, ventil ation, water supply, retreats, the number of pupils to the cubic space °couple -el, etc.; to examine each pupil separately as regards the general health of body, more particular- ly the eyes and ears, the capacity of chest, the teeth, hair, eltie, etc, They must keep special ateeount of those who are siek or convalescent ; in case of infeetious diseases the doctor must see the patients at their own homes. He mnst keep A speoial 40- cdmat of the influence school life exercises npori the 'beefily health and mental develop- ment of etteh lie—" My darling, X really believe my rheumatism has wholly disappeared." She --" 0 1 am sorry I Now we shall never know when the weather 18 going to change The Baby Ibig, l'ile.yoangeo Iting in gurope is Alfonso spun, This trfyal baby was barn aing, for his father, „Alfonso the Twelfth, died some montbe before his useful oconnant of the Spanish throne openea his little eyes on The world in the royal palace at Madrid. It was near noon on the 1(;b of 1/1,y, 1886 when the obureh bells of the Spetush oapi- tal rang out the news to the people that a new hmg had come to take the place of lone who only a short tirete before had been laid in the tomb at the palace of the Escurial. There was great rep:acing in Madrid, and crowds gathered in the square where the royal standard was hoisted in honor of the event, while in all the churches prayers were offered for the baby king and his youtsg wid- owed mother. • Meanwhile in the palace an ancient Span- ish oereniony was taking place. The court. kris and nobles in glittering uniforms and splendid ciosturnes were assembled in the great hall, and the tiny new-born King, by iog on a cushion rich with lace and embroi- dery, was eolemnly carried round to receive their admiration and homage. Before Alfonso's birth it tied seemed pros bable tha± his oldest sister, Mercedes, would be Queen of Spain. Indeed she had been proolaimed AS such at the time of her father's death, bun the arrival of a baby brother changed all her proapects for it is not the oldest child of a king, but the old- est son who inherits the throne, and Men cedes is now onlyher Royal Highness the Princess of Asturian and sister to the King. As she was but five years old when the lit- tle Ring was born, she could not realize what grave responsibilities were removed from her pathway through life. The Queen -mother, Christina, was Regent. for Mercedes during the very brief time that the little maiden was Queen, and she• now holds the same position for her baby son, and will represent him at the head of the nation until he is old enough to understand, the duties of a Ring. Queen Christina is not yet thirty years old, but she is wise and discreet, and is a tender and loving mother to her three fatherless little children, Vv hen the infant King was five days old the chriatening took place. The ceremonies were of great magnificence, and ale' the grandees of Spain were present to do honour to the baby monarch. He received the name of Alfonso in memory of his father and a long line of illustrious Kings of Spain, and. is known as Alfonso the Thirteenth. Leon, Ferdinand, and many other names were given him, and one of them is Pascual, as in the Spanish calender Pascual is the patrozi. saint of the little King's birthday. This royal baby's home is in the palace at Madrid, but all the palaces in Spain are his by right of inheritance. In the hot summer months he goes with his mother. and his little sisters, Princess Mercedes and the Infanta Maria Theresa, to La Granja, fragrant pine forest among the mountains about forty miles from Madrid. La Grania. is an ancient royal residence. It was bruit in the early part of the eighteenth century by Philip the Fifth, who was the firstBaur- bon King of Spain. The pretty boy, who as yet knows nothing, of life except to nestle in his mother's arms and receive her loving caresses, has a stormy - past behind him, and many enemies who. threaten the peace of the future. A dispute concerning the right to the throne has been going on in the Spanish royal family for more than fifty years. In 1833, when Ferdinand the Seventh, the great-grandfather of little Alfonso, died, he left no sons and his oldest daughter, De- bella the gecond, ascended the throne,. Ferdinand had a brother named Carlos, who, believing that a woman should not he allow- ed to rule Spain, declared himself King. A strong band of adherents grew up around him, who were called Uarlists ; sun although his branch of the family has never succeed- ed in gaining possession of the throne, the struggie for kingship has been passed down from father to son, and much blood has. been shed in battles between the armies of the rival parties. The affection of the Spanish people, is strong for Alfonso and his young widowed' mother'but the Spaniards are a turbulent and restless nation, and fond of intrigue. They are not to be trusted, and the lot of the poorest boy in Canada is better and happier than that of this baby King who. lives in the midst of desperate and bitter. enemies. The Hamilton Accident. An examination of the bodies of Archibald and Peden, the Niciima of the railway acci- dent at Hamilton, was made by Dr. P. E. Woolverton at the undertaker's. He Jounce in the case of Archibald a fracture of the skull commencing above the right eye and extending to the left ear, the whole back part of the skull being broken into pieces. Both thighs were broken. His right ear was almost severed and the face and body covered with contusions. Peden had a fracture of the skull com- mencing three inches above the right ear, extending in several directions. Some flesh wounds mere on his legs. The hands of both were bruised and torn and some of tha fingers smashed. Accident in a Sawmill. About 9 o'clock the other morning as Robb. Ford, foremen at the Grove aaw mill, was standing near the furnace, over which, the hutting saw is run, a slab which had just been cut slipped back over the table and falling into the fire hole struck Mr. Ford on the back of the bead and fractured his skull. Notwithstanding the efforts of two doctors Mr. Ford still remains unconscious and his head is so much s-wollen that the doctors cannot make a minute examination, but. they give very little hope of his recovery. A Missing Swedish Sailor. KTNGSTON'Feb. 30.—A Swedish sailor named John Jackson is missing since Tune last. His wife lives in Halifax and she is searching for him. The last time he was heard from he was on a vessel at Kingston. A Friend in Need. Bobby (whimpering): "Didn't I hear Clara. tell you, Mr. Featherly, that she was sorry, but she really couldn't give you a lock of her hair ?" Featherly "'Sh, Bobby 1—er—yes." Bobby Well, you just wait a day or two and I'll get some for you when she's out." What She Wished "on look cozy and warm, uncle, with your fur collar turned np that Wan," said a, girl to her dedei brother. Yes," he replied ; "it prevents the wind from blowing through my whisker." "And I wish to goodness," responded the maiden, with a shiver that shook the draperies of her skirts and made her little feet patter a jig on the sidewalk, "that my boa would keep the wind from blowing ' through my bustle."