The Brussels Post, 1893-12-22, Page 2TP1E BRUSSELS POST DLc'E1ji41t'It22, 1893
THE MIDST OF ALARMS.
BY ROBERT BARR, IN "LIPPINCOTT'S MIAGAZINE."
CHAPTER XI.
1,1argBret spoke oaressiugly to her horse
when She opened the stable door, cud
Gypsy replied with an affeotionate low gut-
tura, whinny whiohtho Sootah graphioally
terra " flickering." She patted the little
animal; and if Gypsy wee surprised at being
?addled and bridled at that hour of the
night, no protest was made, the horse
merely rubbing its nose lovingly up and
clown Margaret's sleeve as she buckled the
different straps: There was evidently a
good undemanding between those two.
"No, Gyp," ohs whispered, " I have
nothing for you to-night,—nothing but
hard work and quiok work. Now you
mustn't make a noise till we get past the
house,"
On her wrist she elipped the loop of a
riding•wbip which she always carried but
never used. Gyp had never felt the indigo
nity of the dash, The little horse was
always willing to do what he was required
merely for a word.
Margaret opened the big gate before she
saddled her horse, and there was therefore
no delay in getting out upon the mala road,
although the passing of the house wee an
anxious moment. She feared that if her
father heard the steps or the neighing of
the horse he night come out to investigate.
Half -way between her own home and Bart-
lett's house she sprang lightly into the
saddle.
" Now then, Gyp."
The horse needed no second word. Away
they sped down the road toward the east,
the mild June air coming sweet and cool
and fresh from the distant lake, laden with
the odors of the woods and the fields. The
stillness was intense, broken only by the
plaintive ery of the whippoorwill,America's
one•phraeed nightinglale, or the still more
weird and eerie note of the distant loon.
The houses along the road seemed desert.
.ed ; no lights were shown anywhere. The
wildest rumors were abroad concerning the
slaughter of the day, and. the population,
eeatterod as it was,appeared to have rebired
into its'ehel, A spell of silence and dark.
nese was over the land, and the rapid hoof-
beats of the home sounded with startling
distinctness on the harder portions of the
road, emphasized by intervals of complete
stillness when the fetlocks sank in the sand
andprogress was more diflaultfor the plucky
little animal. The only thrill of fear that
Margaret felt on her night -journey was
when she entered the dark arch of an avenue
of old forest -trees that bordered the road,
like a great gloomy cathedral aisle in the
shadow of which anything might be hidden.
Once the horse with a •amp of fear started
sideways and plunged ahead; Margaret
caught her breath as she saw, or fancied
she saw, several men stretched on the road.
side, asleep or dead. Once in the open
"1 again she breathed more freely,and if it had
not been for the jump of the horse she would
have accused her imagination of playing her
a trick. Just as she had completely reds-
sured herself, a shadow moved from the
fence to the middle of the road, anda sharp
voice cried,—
" Balt I"
The little horse, as it it knew the mean.
ing of the word, planted its two front hoofs
• together and slid along the ground for a
moment, coming so quiokly to a staud•still
that it was with some difftoulty Margaret
kept her seat. She saw in front of her a
man bolding a gun, evidently ready to fire
if site attempted to disobey his commend.
"Who are you, and where are you
going?" he demanded.
"Oh, please let me pass," pleaded Mar-
garet, with a tremor of fear in her voice.
"I am going for a doctor—for my brother:
beds badly wounded, and will perhaps die
if I am delayed."
The man laughed.
"Oho," he cried, coming closer; " a
woman, is it? and a young one, too, or I'm
a heathen. Now, miss or misses, you. get
down. I'II have to investigate this. The
brother business won't work with an old
soldier. It's your lover you're riding for
at this time of night, or I'm no judge of
the sex. Just slip down, my lady, and see
"if you don't like me better than him; and
remember that all cats are black in the
dark. Get down, I tell you."
"1f you are a soldier you will let me go.
My brother is badly wounded. I must got
to the doctor."
" There's no ' must' with a bayonet in
front of you. If he has been wounded there's
.plenty of better men killed today. Come
down, any dear."
Margaret gathered up the bridle rein,
but even in the darkness the man saw her
• intention.
i•' "You can't escape, my pretty. 1f you
try it, you'll tot be hurt, but I'll kill your
horse; 1f you move, I'll put a bullet through
him,"
"Kill my horse 1" breathed Margaret, in
horror, a fear coming over her that she had
not felt at the thought of danger to herself.
" Yes, missy," said the man, approaching
nearer and laying his hand on Gypsy's
bridle. "lint there will be no need of that.
• Beetdes, it would make too much noose, and
might bring us company, which would be
inconvenient. So come down quietly, like
the nioe little girl you are."
" 1f you will let mo go and tell the
doctor, I will come bask here and be your
• prisoner,"
The man laughed again, in low, tanta-
lizing tones. This was a good joke,
" Oh, no, sweetheart. I wasn't born so
• recently as all that. A girl 10 the bard is
'..worth a dozen it mild up the road. Now
come oif that horse, or I'll take you off.
This is wartime, and I'm not going to
waste any more pretty talk on you."
Thelma, who, she now saw, was Wiese,
leered up at her, and something in his
sinister ayes made the girl quail. Sao load
been a quiet that he apparently was not
prepared for any sudden movement. Iler
right hand hanging down at her side had
grasped the short riding -whip, and with a
swiftness that gave him no chance to ward
off the blow; she struck hien one stinging
blinding cut across the eyes, and then
brought down the lash on the flank of her
horse, drawing the animal round with her
leftover her enemy, With 0wildsnort ofas-
tonish men t the horse sprang forward bring•
ingman and gun down to thegroundwith ha
' clatter thee, Woke the oehoes; then,
with an indignant toss of the head Gyp
sped along the road like the wind, ft was
the first time G'psy had ever felt the out of
a whip, acid the blow wee not forgiven
• •ltlargaret, feat'ing further obstruotton on
the road, turned her horse's head toward
the alliance, and Gypsy went over it like
bird In the field, where fast gobng in
ra the dark lad dao ere, Margaret tried to
'. blacken the path, tut the little horse would
' not have it so. It shook its head angrily
whehevorit thought of the indignity of
hat blow, while Margaret leaned over end
/tried to explain and beg pardon for her
Offence, The second fenoewas Dosed With
a olear-out leap, and only ono in the next
field did the horse stumble, but quickly
recovered and went on at the Sano break•
neck gait. The next fence gallantly
vaulted over brought then to the side -
road half a mild up w high stood the doctor's
I000se. Margaret saw the futility of at-
tempting n reconciliation until the goal
was won. There, with difficulty, the
horse was stopped, and Margaret struck
the panes of the upper window, through
which a light shone, with her riding -whip,
The window was raised and the eituabion
speedily explained to the physician.
"I will be with 3m0 in a moment," he
said,
Then Margaret slid from the saddle and
put her amts around the peak of tho
trembling horse. Gypsy would have nothing
to do with her, and sniffed the air with
offended dignity.
"It was a shame, Gyp," she Dried, almost
tearfully, stroking the gluey neck of her
resentful friend ; "it was, it was, and Iknow
ft ; but what was I to do, Gyp? You ween
the only protector I had, and you did bowl
him the beautifully : no other horse could
have done it so well. It's wicked, but I do
hope you hurt him, Met because I had to
strike you.'
Gypsy was still wrathful, and indicated
by a toss of the head that the wheedling of
a woman did not make up for a blow, It
was the insult more than the pain; and
from her —there was the sting of it.
"I know ; I know just now how you feel,
Gypsy dear, and I don't blame you for be-
ing angry. Imight have spoken to you, of
course, but there was no time to think, and
it was really him I was striktug, That's
why it same down so hard. If I had said
a word he would have got out of the way,
coward that be was, and then would have
shot you,—you, Gypsy. Think of it I"
If amen can be moulded in any drape
that pleases a stover woman, how can a
horse expect to be exempt from her iofiu-
onoo, even if he is a superior animal to
man ? Gypsy showed signs of mailing,
whinnying softly and forgivingly.
"And it will never happen again Gypsy,
—never, never. As soon as we are safe
home again I will burn that whip. X ou
little pet, I knew you wouldn't—
Gypsy's head rested on Margaret's shoul-
der, and we must draw a veil over the re-
conciliation. Some things are too sacred
for a more man to meddle with. The frieuds
were friends once more, and on the altar of
friendeoap the unoffending whip was doubt-
less offered as a burning sacrifice.
When the doctor Dame out, Margaret ex-
plained the danger of the road, and propos-
ed that they should return by the longer
and northern way,—bhe Concession, as it
was called.
They met no one on the silenb road, and
soon they saw the light in the window.
The doctor and the girl left their horses
tied some distance from the house, and
walked together to the window with the
stealthy steps of a pair of house•breakers.
Margaret listened breathlessly at the closed
window, and thought she heard the low
murmur of conversation. She termed light-
ly on the pane, and the professor threw bank
the door window.
"We were getting very anxious about
you," he whispered.
"Hello, Peggy," said the boy, with a wan
smile, raising hos Tread siightly from the
pillow and dropping it bank again.
Margaret stooped over and kissed him,
"My poor boy 1 what a fright you have
given me 1"
' Ale Margery, think what a fright I
got myself. I thought I was going to die
within sigh; of the house."
The doctor gently pushed Maragaret
from the room. Renmark waited until the
examination was over, and then went out
to find her.
She sprang forward to meet him.
"It is all right," he said. "There is
nothing to fear. He baa been exhausted
by loss of blood, but a few days' quiet will
set that right. Then all you will have to
contend against will be his impatience at
being kept to his room, whioh may be nec-
essary for some weeks,"
"Oh, 1 am so glad I and—and I am so
much obliged to you, Mr. Renmark I"
have clone nothing—except make
blauders," replied the professor, with a
bitterness that surprised and hurt iter.
" How can yon say that? You have
done everything. We owe his life to you."
Renmark said nothing for a moment.
Her unjust accusation in the earlier pare of
the night Irad deeply pained his over•sensi-
bive nature, and he hoped for some hint of
disclaimer from her. Belonging to the stupi.
der the, he did not realize that the words
were spoken in a state of intense excitement
and fem.—that another woman would prob.
ably have expressed her state of mind by
fainting instead of talking, and that the
whole °episode had left absolutely no trace
on the recollection of Margaret. At last
Renmark spoke :
" X must be getting back to the tent, if
it still exists. I think I had an appoint.
fount there with Yates smile twelve hours
ago, but to this moment? had forgotten it.
Good.niglit."
Margaret stood for a few moments alone,
and wondered what she had doge to offend
him, He stumbled along the dark reed,
net heeding much the cireotinu he took,
but automatically going the nearest way to
the tent. Fatigue and the want of sleep
were heavy upon him, and his feet wars as
lead. Although dazed, he was conscious of
a dull ache where his heerb ought to be,
and los vaguely hoped he had not made a
fool of himself. Ho entered the taut and
was startled by the voice of Yates :
"Hello I hello 1 Is bloat you, Stolikor?"
"No ; it is Remmntrk. Are you asleep?"
" 1 guess I have been. Hunger is the one
seosetnoo of the moment. Have you pro•
vided anything to eat tvithbn the last
twentyfour hours?"
" :Chore's a bag full of potatoes here, I
believe, I haven't bean near the tent sine.)
early morning."
"Ala right, only don't expect: a re0om•
mendation from me as cook. I'm not yot
hungry enough for raw potatoes. What
time has it got to be?"
" I'm etre I don't know."
"Seems as if 1 had Leen neleop for weeks.
I'm the latest edition of Rip Van Winkle,
and oxpeot to find my moustache gray le
the morning. I was dreaming sweetly of
Stolikor when you fell over the bunk,"
"\What have you done with him ?"
" I'm not wide enough awake to roman.
bor. 1 think 1 killed him, but wouldn't be
sure. So many of my good resolutions go
wrong that very likely be is alive at Olt
moment, Ask me in the morning. What
have you bean prowling after all night 1"
There was no answer. Renmark was
evidently aaloop.
"7.11 ask yen in the morning," murmured
Yates, drowsily,—after whioh there was
silence in the tamp.
CHAPTER XII.
Yates had stubbornly refused to give up
hie search for rest and quiet, ill spite of
the discomfort of living in tt leaky end
battered tont, Ile expressed regret that
he had not originally camped in the middle
of llroadway, as being a quieter and legs
exciting spot than the place he had chosen
but, having made the choice, ho was plug
to sec the laet dog hung, he said. Romnark
had become lees and less of a comrade. He
was silent end almost as gloomy as Hiram
Bartlett himself. When Yates tried to
°beerltim up by showing him how much
worse another meat: position night be,
ltenutar'k generally ended the talk by taking
to the woods.
"Just reflect On my position," Yates
would say. " Hero I am dead in love with
two lovely girls, both of whom aro merely
waiting for the word, To one of them I
have Pearly oomnnitted myself, whioh fact
to a man of my temperament inclines me
somewhat to the other. Here I am anxious
to confide in you, and yet I feel that I risk a
fight every time I talk aboub the complica-
tion You have no sympathy for me,
Ronny, when I need eynpethy, and I am
bubbling over with sympathy for you and
you won't have it. Now, what would you do
if you were in my fix ? If you would take
five minutes and show the clearly whioh of
the two girie I really ought to marry, it
would help me ever so mnah, for then I
would be sure to settle on the other one. It
is indecision that is surely sapping my
vitality."
By this bane Renmark would have pulled
his soft felt hat over his eyes, and, mutter.
ing words that would have echoed strangely
in the oilent halls of the University building,
would plunge into the forest. Yates goner.
ally looked after his retreating figure with•
out anger, but with mild wonder.
" Well, of all cantankerous cracks he is
the worst," he would say, with a sigh. It
is sad to see the temple of friendship tumble
down about one's errs in this way. At
their last talk of this kind Yates resolved
not to discuss the problem again with the
professor, unless a crisis came. The oriels
came in the form of Stolikor, who dropped
in on Yates as the latter lay in the hammock
smoking and enjoying a thrilliug romance
belonging bo the series then in vogue among
brainless people, entitled "Beadle's Dime
Novels." The camp was strewn with these
engrossing paper•eovered works, and Yates
load:read many of them, looping to come
across a ease similar to his own, but to the
Ulna of Stoliker's visit he had nob succeed-
ed.
' Hello, Scoliker 1 how's things ? Gob
the caffein your pocket? Want to have
another tour across country with me?"
"No, But I came to warn you. There
will be a warrant out to -morrow or next
day, and if 1 were you I would get over to
the other side ; but you need never say I
told you to. Of course if they give the
warrant to me I shall have to arrest you ;
and although nothing may be done to you,
still the country is in a state of excitement,
and you will at least be put to some incon•
venienee."
Scoliker," cried Yates, springing out
of the Inammook, "you are a white man 1
You're a good fellow, Stolikor, and I'm
ever so much obliged. If you ever come to
New York, yon call on me et the Argus
office,—anybody will show you where ib is,
—and I'll give you the liveliest time you
ever had in your life. It won't cost you a
cent, either."
" That's ell right," said the constable.
"Now, if I were you I would light oub to-
morrow at the latest."
" I will," said Yates.
Sboliker disappeared quietly among the
trees, and Yates, after a momenb's thought
began energetically to pack up his belong.
hogs. It was dark before he had finished
and Renmark returned.
" Stilly," cried the reporter, cheerily,
" there's a warrant outfor• my arrest. I
shall have to go to -morrow ab the latest."
" What 1 to jail ?" cried his horrified
friend, his cousclenoe now troubling hitn,as
the parting Dame, for ifs lack of kindness
to an old comrade.
" Not if the court knows herself. But
to Buffalo, whioh is pretty mucin the same
thing. Still, thank goodness, I don't need
to stay there long. I'll be in New York
before I'm many days older. I yearn to
plunge into the arena once more. The still
calm peseefulness of this whole vaoabien
has made me lung for excitement again,
and I'm glad the warrant has pushed ace
into the turmoil."
"Well, Richard, I'm sorry you have to
go under such conditions. I'm afraid I
have not been as companionable a -comrade
as you should have load."
" Oh, you're all right, Ronny, The
trouble with you is that you have drawn a
little circle around Toronto University and
said to yourself, ' This is the world.' It can't,
youkno:v. There is something outside of
all that."
"Every man, doubtless, has Ids little
circle. Yours is around the Argas office."
" Yes, but there are special wires from
that little circle to all the rest of the world,
and soon there will be an Atlantic cable."
" I do not hold that my circle is as large
as yours ; still, there is something outside
of New X oris even."
" You het your life there is ; and, now
that you are in a more sympathetic frame
of mind, it is that I want to talk with you
about. Those two girls are outside my little
circle, and I want to brie ono of them with.
in ie. Now, Renmark, which of those girle
would you choose if you were me?'
The professor drew in his breath shortly
and was silent for a moment. At last ire
said, speaking very slowly,—
"I am afraid, Mr. Yates, that you do
nob quite appreciate my point of view. As
you nnay think I have acted Irian unfriend-
ly manner, I will try for the fleet and tonal
bums to explain it. I hold that any .man
who marries a good women gets more than
he deserves, no matter how worthy he may
be. I have a profound respoot for all worm
on, and I think that your light chatter
about choosing between two is an insult to
both of them. I think either of their ie
infinitely too good for you, —or for me
either."
"Oh, you do, do you? Perhaps you think
that you would make a much better Ions.
band than 1. If that ie the 0000, allow mo
to say you aro entirely wrong. If your
wife was sensitive, yon would kill ,oar wibh
your gloomy ate. I wouldn't go off to the
woods and sunt, anyhow."
"1f you aro referring to one, I will
further inform yon that I had either to go
off in tho woods or knock you down. I
chose the lessor of two evils,
" Thine yen could do 10, I anppose 1
Renny, you're conceited, You're loot the
first man who has made such a mistake
and found he was barking up, the wrong
tree when ib was too late for miybhing
but bandages and arnica."
"1 have tried to show you horn I fool re•
girding blobs matter. 1 might have known
I shottltl not succeed. We will cud bin
dieoussloe, if you please,"
Oh, no, The disanssion is justbegin.
nine. New, Renny, I'll toll you what you
need, You need a geed sensible wile
worse than any rash 1 know, lb is not yet
too late to save you, but it soon will be,
You will, before long, grow a °rivet on YOlt ,
lake mental, ora lobster, or any outer °old.
blooded animal that gets a smell on itself,
Then nothing can bo done for you, Now
Jet me Says you, Renny, before itle too late,
Hero ie my proposition, You choose one
of those girls and marry her, 1'11 take the
other. I'm net as unselfish as i may seem in
than, for your oboioo will save me the worry
of making up my mind. Aoaording to your
talk, either of the girls be too good for you,
aid for.onos I entirely agree with you,
Bub lot that pass. Now, who is it to be?"
"Good God, mall, de you think I am
going to bargain with you about my future
wife?
" That's right, Remy. I like to hoar you
swear, It shows you aro nob yet the prig
you would have folks believe. There's
Mill hope for you, professor. Now, I'll go
further with you, Although I cannot
make up my mind just what to do myself,
I ono tell instantly which is the girl for
you, and thus we solve both problems ab
ono stroke. You need a wife who will
not pnb up with your tantrums, who will be
cheerful and who will make a man of you.
Kitty Bartlett is bhe girl. She will Myren.
nine over you jueb es her mother does over
the all mac. She will keep house to the
queen'o taste and delight in getting you
good things to oat, Why, everything is as
plain as a pikestaff. That shores bhe bene-
fit of talking over a thing, You marry
Ditty, and I'll marry Margaret, Come,
let's shako bands Lover it." Yates hold up
his right hand ready to slap it down on the
open palm :of the professor, but there
was no response. Yates's hand (tame down
to his side again, but he had nob yet lost
the enthusiasm of his proposal. The more
he thought of ib the more fitting it seemed,
"Margaret •, is such a eonsible, quiet,
levelheaded girl that, if I ata as flippant
as you say, she will be just the wife for me.
There are depths in my obaraoter, Rem
mark, that you have not sttopootod."
" Oh, you're deep."
"I admit it. Well, a good sober-minded
woman would develop the best bloat is in
mo. Now, what do you say, Renny?"
"I say noticing. I am going into the
woods again dark as it is,"
"Alt well," said Yates with a sigh,
"there's no doinganything with you or for
you. I've tried my best: that is ono eon.
solation. Don't go away. I'll let Fate de.
(tide. Here goeo for a toss-up,"
Aud Yates drew a silver half -dollar from
his pocket, "Heads for Margaret?' ho
cried. Renmark clinched his fiat, took a
step forward, then streaked himself, re.
msmberiug that this was his last night with
the man wloo ]tad at least once been his
friend,
Yates merrily spun the coin in the air,
caught it in one hand, and slapped the
other over ib.
' Now for the turning -point in the lives
of two innocent beings."
He raised the covering hand and peered at
bho coin in the gathering gloom. " Heads
it is. Margaret Howard becomes Mrs,
Richard Yates. Congratulate me, profes-
sor."
Renmark stood motionless as a statue,
an objeot•lesson in self•oontrol. Yates set
his hat more jauntily on his head, and
slipped the epoch-making coininto his
trousers -pocket.
"Good•by, old man," he said. "I'll see
you later and tell you all the particu-
lars."
Not waiting for the answer, which he
probably knew there would have boon little
use in delaying for, Yates walked to the
fence and sprang over it with one hand on
the top rail. Renmark stood still for some
minutes, then quietly gathered underbrush
and sticks large and small, lighted a fire
and sat down on a log with lbs head in his
hands.
(TO AS DO\TrxtrsD.)
England in the Mediterranean.
Close attenbion is now being paid by the
press of this country and the United States
to the question of England's supremacy as a
naval power Tho presence of a Russian
squadron in the Mediterranean is probably
the motive which, according to a recent
report, has impelled the Sultan, on the
advice of England, to immediately under.
take the construction of new fortifications
on the Bosphorus. The cariosity which
attaches to this action is quite natural when
it is remembered that the slips of Russia
are under the terms of an international
obligation obliged to keep away from the
Bosphorus, The move also iudioatos that
the Government at London is taking some
stock in what is called "hie naval scare."
The strengthening of the British navy to.
outmatch the combined fleets of Franco ane]
Russia may be a very expensive measure,
and a great many taxpayers may not suc-
ceed in their moth sincere efforts to see the
neceseiby of it. But another and an equally
important class of taxpayers will have no
difficulty, even without being oonfroubed
with the event of war, to distinguish the
desirability of the precaution. The value
of Britain's trade in the Mediterranean is
pub down by commercial experts in the
neighborhood of fifty millions sterling a
year, a consideration well worth fencing
round or repairing the existing proteobion
where it may be found vulnerable.
We have already quoted statistics and
opinions regarding the uompa'ative strength
of England and France in the al editor -
tamale The New York Herald of Wednes-
day last applies itself to the oollection of
additional lgures and statements. France
is desoribee as having at the present time a
crushing naval superiority in that sea.
Behind this force are the resources for coal.
ing and supply of bhe great port of Toulon,
while at other points the French could also
get plenty of supplies and find refuge, Port
Vondres, f!ette, Marseilles, La C!otat, Ga
Seyne, Hyeres eel Villofrauolte ; also et
the months of the Ands, Ileranlb, Rhonea
Argeus and Var. Corsica besides has its
sheltered havens of Ajaccio and Basbia,
whilst in Alleges and Than there are Bent
Ss.f, Oran, Algiers, Plnillippeville, Botta,
Tenho and Bizerta all ready to supply cool
and kelp.
The ports of 'Britain, on the other hand,
are Gibraltar, 'Melte, Larnaca and l,'gpyb;
none of them, Mallet excepted, with sails.
factory dock aoconunodation, Tho dunks
and hydraulic slips of France ere said to be
maiutnoned in perfect efficiency to the ?num
bon of twenty. The mere t e e"bjeob is
tallied about the more ala'nting does It apo
pear, mud whatever England may contrive
to do immediately in influencing the friend.
ly powers mo the Mediterranonu to look to
thou desks cud forte, it is altogether likely
that the .Imperial Government will be nom.
polled in the long run by the force of public
opinion to take measures calculated fu the
fleet place to restore the naval supremely
ill the Mediterranean, and, in tho mooed,
to properly oquip Gibraltar, putting it in
some sort of c0untsnanoo with blip strength
of Malta. 1
Two thousand now booke will be put on.
the rnarktt by tendon publishors alone thle
wilt ter,
YOUNG FOLKS.
A Song of Kriss Kringle's Tree.
Krlss ICringlo'e bells aro jingling
The frosty air 1s ttnglhtg
All stivorr sounds aro mingling,
This merry, moue dee.
With many a :bony feather,
The snow -Bakes dance together '
Item cont" ReissKr[nglo s weather,
In good Riese Refugle's way.
Kriss 1Cringle's measures tripping,
,friss l{rtingle's sweetness sipping,
The while tics gifts we're clipping
From bravo Kriss Kringleht tre0.
IVo sot tho candles burning
Like stars and planets' turning.
And every dream and ynarnlug
There satisfied we 800.
Alone and solitary,
Aloof from elf and fairy,
It grow in forests airy
Through many a 00a90n dtm—
To roach lis day of glory,
When winter woods wore hoary,
To hoar Kriss ICringle's story,
And door Kass Kringlc's hymn.
0 tree that wearies never!
0 tree that °harms Ina marl
0 trop that lives forayer .I
The blessed Christmas tree,
Where love and kindness blending,
Round up the S'oar's fah' ending,
Thorn heaven's own haauty lending,
I3 obol<l liriss lir ingle's tree.
—lMar'garet E. Sangster.
A"[Ohristmas Thought and What Came
of It.
Santa Claus was tired and no wonder; for
it was Christmas Eve,and everybody knows
what a busy time Moab is for hot. What
journeys ho must take 1
Such numbers and numbers of ohimneys
as he must scramble down, and such oount-
loss numbers of stookbngs as he must fill
It was no wonder the dear old man was
nearly tired out, for it was past midnight ;
his work was done, and Ile had turned itis
reindeer homeward.
As he reached the suburbs of a large city,
whose homes he had just visited, his atten-
tion was attracted toward an old dilapidat•
ed building, that he bad supposed to be un-
inhabited ; bho attraction was not great,
only a very dim light, but it let him know
that there was someone within,
"Well I declare i" exclaimed he, sudden-
ly stopping. "I didn't know anybody lived
here I I thought Squire Steele had taken
this old tumble-down shanty for a pig -pen
long ago ; he ought to be ashamed to rent
such a plane, but he'll do most anything for
a little money. I wonder if there are any
children here? If there are, I suppose I
ought co leave them some presents, though
somehow I never do have much for poor
children. '-'isn't right, either, for Christ-
mas should he a happy time for all ; I must
look after them a little better in the future,
poor things, for I love them just the same
as rich children."
Then he bent down and peered through
the fringe of icicles that bordered the win•
dow ledge, into a little roost so desolate
looking that it would have touched a mnoh
harder heart than dear old Santa's.
On a pile of straw in one oornor of the
room, lay three little children fast asleep,
But, though their bed was only straw, with
covering of all ragged comfortablea, they
were smiling in their sleep ; for they had
gone to bed thinking that good old Santa
Clans would cone as soon as the clock
struck twelve, and bring them some nine
presents; he never had missed them,
though to be sure they load never before
lived in each an out of the way place. Two
years ago their father was alive, and they
lived in a nine little house of their own ;
but after hos death there were debts to be
paid, they mast bo fed and clothed, and
wibh the little work chat their mother
could get to do, ahs could not procure
enough money to keep them from going
hungry and sold. So one by one they had
to part with their house and all the pretty
things within, until they were finally reduc-
ed to their present extremely straightened
circumstances. Long after the children
slept their mother still sat by their old
broken -logged, rusty stove, trying to coax
the fire to burn more briskly with branches
which she Inad picked up in the woods; for
it was a cold night, and their bedding was
poor ; but the wood was so crusted with
snow that it only sizzled and sputtered,
"Poor dears,"said the widow, as she acci-
dentally brushed the ohildren's old ragged
stockings off from the back of a chair.
"Poor dears, how well'1 remember when I
was a little girl, waking up Christmas
morning and running to my stocking. Oh,
my dear mother, ,tow kind she was I And
to think, I love my babies jest es well as
she loved me, and yet I can buy them noth-
ing 1 And that is not the worst of it.
There'll none of us have a Christmas diener.
I declare I could cry I" And she did ery,
throwing her apron over her head and lean-
ing bank in her chair.
Dear me l" said Santa Claus, "how my
eyes do water 1 I must have taken cold,
muttered he, wiping his eyes. The some
inside had affected him more than he was
willing to own. "Now," los briefly con-
tinuer, "what is to be done? Those offal.
dren must have something, certain. But
the trouble is I haven't a single tiring left
ekcepb a thought."
"A thought 1" exclaims some of these
dearlbbble readers, " Whales that?"
Didn't you ever notice any among your
C'hristmae presents? Santa Claus has lots
of them at holiday dunes, and he generally
sprinkles a few in with everybody's pies•
eats ; so if you have never noticed any
among yotore, look for them this year. He
has many kinds—holy thoughts, benevolent
thoughts, and thoughts of love, peace and
rec000iliation. The thought that he had
left was good and sbrong,and plainly mark-
ed with the golden ward, "Charity."
" Well I dealers I" °eelaithed Santa
Claus, " What obeli I do ? It won'b ilo
the least bit of good to leave this for tioese
children, boot they must have soinething and
their mother, too, must have a Ohristanas
present, Humph I 1 know what I'll do.
I'll just go over to Squire Steele's and leave
this though b for him, If he will only nourish
it and care for it, it will do molt good
there. 1'11 try it anyhow ; so away, my
good reindeer,'
Squire Steele and his wife sab silently by
their woonm,glowieg aro—she busy knitting,
he busy reading—or pretending to, for his
thoughts,as well as his wife's, worn running
away back over a lapse of some Wen >yfiv0
years, to the time whoa a darling little baby
boy tame to livo with them,
"Jut twohtyeve years to -night shoo
little Jolunry oauoo to ns," said he, ab last,
as moll to himself as to his wife,
" I was just thinking of that, too," an.
swered his wife. " Oh ricer, wlny o07rhLn't
behave lived? How happy we might then
be. Itscems as though 1 can't stand it
when I see other ohildrot having sea jolly
trice at Christmas, My I" she sedately
exclaimed, "what was that? Somebody
sneezed or toughed, surely, Didn't you
hoar thein 1'
"01t, I omit was nothing lett the wind,"
answered the Squire, not dreaming that it
was Santo Claes, who at that very mornett
dropped the blooughb dowel the chimney,
"As yon were saying, wife, we would
have been far happier had little Johnny
lived—and hotter, too," ho added thought
fully. Thou after soave mo moats' reflection
he continued. " Perhaps it would be
bettor now if we olid not live bo ourselves
so much ; wo have 10st Johnny, our little
darling, to be sure, anti though we can
novor forgot him, nor do we waub to, it
might he bettor not to name our grief
so much, but try to got over 10 somo.
what,'
' Oh, I never can 1" moaned Mrs.
Stoole.
S es I know," replied the Squire, has.
tily wiping his own eyes, "bub perhaps if
we did more to make others happy, our
own grief might be loathed ; they say ib
helps, '
" Johnny would have liked that," answer -
she, after a pause: " He always liked to
see everyone happy, and it really seemed to
bronble lLim if they were not, Don't you re.
member Trow, at Uhristmas time, he always
tried to have all the children around, rich
or poor, and have a jolly time, dividing hie
presents with tloose who had none, besides
having some little treat to share with all.
Had he lived, no children near us would be
without presents tomorrow morning.
" Would it not be well to do this work
for ibm?" at length asked the Squire
with a greab softening of the heart ; then
adding, almosb as an apology, " perhaps we
night make him happier in heaven by so
doing."
"Tam aura wo would," answered Mrs.
Steele, quietly wiping away her tears,
"But what can we do? Where can wo
begin ? I don't know anything about rho
poor families around, nor whioh ones have
children."
"There is one family clown in our old
house that wilt do to begin with, I think.
There are children there, too—ono little
boy, about our little boy's age the last
Christmas he was with us. 1-1e somehow
ronin<led me of him, too, when I went there
yesterday to collect the rant—looking as
though he was bound to be happy under
any cironmstances. Tomorrow we'll make
a tour of the town, beginning with them,
for I think there are none poorer than
they."
" Couldn't wo go tonight, to this one
place,"asked Mrs. Steele, whose sympathies
were all aroused for the little boy who
looked like their lost darling.
"It's pretty late," said Mr. Steele, but
in a voice that plainly said, " I am willing
to go." So they were soon wrapped and
mniiled and out in the street. From away
down in the oily name faint, yet olear, the
chimes ringing out the anthem, "Joy to
the world, the Lord boas Dome I" The sweet
melody stirred the thought bloat Santa
Claus load dropped into their hearts, and
gave them strange sensations.
They made their purchases as quickly as
possible, though it did take them some
time, for now they had started ant they
did nob wish to do things by halves.
The little bhougbb was growing very
fast.
As they deposited their bundles and
baskets at the widow's door, a wee small
voice seemed to say, " He that death ib
unto the least of these, doeth it unto me,'
and a peace went over their souls ; and if
they were not happier they were much
better satisfied with themselves.
Christmas morning the widow was astir
long before her children, The first thing
she did was to start out for some dead
branches to build a little fire by which to
prepare their breakfast. Imagine her sur-
prise upon opening the door. For a moment
she could not move, she was ao overwhelm•
ed with astonishment, but the next moment
she fell upon her knees and thanked God
for his goodness.
Oh, what a happy little place that was
that Christmas day 1 Tito children found
new stockings hanging on the chair in place
of their old ones, and each was filled so full
of sugarplums, oranges, nuts, and .other
good things, that it looked as though it
would burst. And piled high, oh 1 so high,
on the chair, wore new shoes, cloaks, hoodo
and dresses for the girls, and for the boy, a
whole newsuit, oven toapair of rod•topped
boots, Just think of that. His first ready
made suit, too.
And that was not all. The old table wall
fairdyloadedwith the weight of good things;
a plump turkey was waiting to be roasted,
some nice large potatoes was waiting to be
baked, and a plum pudding stood there
ready to be boiled. Then there was a large
market basket filled with—but bless your
hearts, I couldn't begin to tell yon what
was in that ; it was crowded so full of per-
cale of raisins, tea, sugar and everything
nine, that there was no use in it having a
cover—no use whatever, for the cover
wouldn't and couldn't St on.
And before they had finished looking
at these things, some one drove up
with some wood and coal, and a nice soft
bed, sent by Squire Steel and his wife.
Then that aftenroon the Squire himself
drove down after them, and took them up
to his grand house on the hill, where libtle
Johnnie—for the widow's little boy's name
was Johnnie, too—quito won tloe hearts of
the Squire and hie wino, and made their
happier than they had been for years.
When Santa Clans saw Trow that thought
had grown, how its rootlets load grasped
the withered tendrils of the Squires boort
and given them fresh life, he chuckled to
himself. "Ha I Hal wasn'bib iuckyl had that
thought left. I'll soatbor more thoughts
another year, and gerltaps in this way 1
may be able to make a Merry Christmas
for all.
Keeping Warm -
Tho boy was sitbing out on the front
steps of the house shivering as the police.
man passed by at midnight.
" What are you doing hero ?" asked the
offieer.
Tendon' to my business," answered the
boy cheerfully.
Well, I guess you had bettor go in oho
house, You'll freeze here,
That's my business. You go on about
yours."
' This is mine,"
" Is it ?' and the boy °hacltled.
" Yea, Why don't you go in ?"
'Cause 1 dont want to, said the boy,
gabbing up and slapping his arms aroutod
himself, " Me and pap got home about
two minutes ago, and he told ono to wait
outside while he went in first far he
thought mother'd make it hot enough for
two, I know mother, so you go on about
your business, and if 'Ifeeezo you won't
have to pay fer the funeral," and bho olid.
car moved o!£ to the street corner and wait•
od for the boy to go he
Ausw ered.
Lawyer : " Aro you sure that 000urrenoo
was or. the 17th of the month ?"
Witness : "Yes ft was the 17th ?"
Lawyer: "Now, remember you aro under
oath. Row do you know ib was the 17th?
Witness : "'Cause the day before that
Lawyer : "13e oerefud what you sey,noW.
Go on."
Wibr.ose r "--was the 161,1o, and rho
day af!or Wes tho 180,"