i j I Atlvcrti. l; pMihod Weekly at . ftr f t 'i itvtv n Or Tbe luvt u4 rriitMl . Hkli KKSM 1 CH.ttlBMld" it luTl. tETOrOl OOB- mir ration of adrtniMri. whose riTorf will be Im erted at tbe following low rto : 1 Jreh, S time Il K 1 SmoTithii t I I I nvo!hi.. , , . 1 1 yenr ' 9 2 month ( Ott 1 yer S " 6 month. S.Q S 1 year 11 0 t corn S month........ le e months - . H " 1 er 0 Smonth eyi.OO 1 yer TS.Oo Ttcsiness Item. Orst Intwrtlna too. per line ; eok ntwijiiert Insertion fe. r I1n. Admlnlftrntor end F.xeentor'l ? otlee t M AodiU'T's ?totlOi l.eo StrT nd similar otlos l.M U Hrtolultmj or prot rtdxnc of arty rof fun u-t-rr focirty. end comotunuaJioiu demurred to celt mtttn t.un to ar.y wmt'rr of Ixmittd or individual tnlerttt nail be put rot m d9rrtuemmt$. .Ion rRiTiso of all kinds netT and exT-dlt-ouily extetited at lowest price, l'on'tyoa forge It. m m ioi the Cn Mv ,.' firrnl'-tion, 1,900 , , . !. ! !":-n. e .1.50 1 : ..., . w:r',i!n S months.. 1.T5 ', , 't n-'t'i' -i-l wiM-ln 9 months. 2,110 '. ';' .': I i I T:.Vin l,?yr.. tits . :i. . f the eouny, J."- ' , ,' . - "T r "v !1 !' ' charged to .v trm s tie o- '' ... ..(I th"- ii-r't eoosalt tbetr JAS. C. HASSOM, Editor and Publisher. "H3 19 A rBHEMAK WHOM THK TKXJTH MAKES FHBK, AND ALL ABK BLAVK8 BK8IDB. SI.50 and postage per year. In advance . . . 'si! j I' ' mint nnt - - '...e in:1 in .i - t,tio?e ho f 1 ' -OM'0 uiKlertooJ from -r ;"! r- yen stop It, If stop ''. .--:'.! r.i; do othe rwi.'e. VOLUME XX. EBENSBURG, PA.. FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1SS6. NUMBER 5. l I.-) h irt. :fWkrL&l ill ir i - AT I -bj &1 I 1 r ' VT V" sty VV t ' . ... ' -wi : 5 ttr ' ... ,i. -i I . I r SlLM T-vi I i11f. VINBHHG cjid Hih Avn, r-.irjil l-'i-incitlca : a-, z Pcr"e;t As- "j ."-..v-c".. i. o ITcisj, I7o Fatigue, 17o :. " C:imr.iy Unli-ri- .' jirtr&rZai-ci, and a .9 A'.lrr-s AVERY MACHINE CO. Oroadwajr, Now York. in tho World A 1 ,7 . TMtf have St Totel their lire ; !T the K d Onrii, the i . . ( -o(l u;jn! for .1 j j -iir j. vu-gitar'aua f --d vni nr,t p-t out of F?epiircrTuno . i- is J V M I X 1' YEA (" "?. Dil K V X X .i r" r to p jrchc.-in r . . y or st 'jI'3 " ' 1 . . ? k".t wiite to a c- 'i. oi- "tl fi ii iifaol urer ' -: . ( u . 'uoney a Jlrrt-clat , c -t h it a few cent each .: t - TAt OGUS and diagram cf tt o INTERIOR of . i . ;t.:e TO ALL, nd :CCU:sT3 allowed where we AC 'nite Organ Co. ! i i J J A 5 J t.i::it mm MANvrACTniBnsj of i:r.;a:s, sikin; ata(ions, - - 'j -'."3 t:;k3 ETR3t3 fi: t.to:; ;. -I'iilMii, h;i i-lMil ; io c sii tahld for eitle-r If :t1 "iTir to a'l otbern i ", .:uaurs " bomm-'S v i r ; tju. Send for cataloi'J : 1 tiorx Ca, Cincioiaii, C. j c rn ;::ccoo 1 CiUGHi.COLDS. - L.w77wo2LS v rTx 2 A fit ' L' " T I. I. Jti:;: - .r'. c - y OfHUnf. ritb ' V jt,? A-..T. Wo k - Write - V r.cMAtC Crtcinati. O ' " FAMILY SCALES - t ,h.- t.- it. i-.-r -1XQ R COMMISSION. fttj ,' jaJ e -n io cia tor the -uie t (ira,, Vine. Roses, fce.- -i. -A -VAj A- . fV a V--rY c -wvt m.'w r - - - c . . fi tl r I U IV M V ' II! Ml 1 1 II U II I III I , iu ll UwVM : i ; r 'A vvc A.--Sj y. t'lUlCLLAZD BUCK BO A. Ao. 21. 'm " -'::cnr'c not sni'll. If. F. ' , Prlxiitott, 5i. T. Absolutely Pure. The powder Ticcer varies. A marvel ol purity ftrenxth rinit whopomcne!s. More economic th.-m the rr llnnry kimis. and cannot oe sold In competition with tho multitude of the low test, short weisflit. alum or phosphate powders. Sof or.hi in (an. Kotal IUkixu 1'owdie Co.,1'4 Wall .St., N tw York- PYEIA Is the most virulent form of Monl-pnoB. Ing. Less spof uily fu!:i. 1. ut not ls cer tainly on, Is the v'i'latio.i of tho Woofl of whicn tho firt evmptoms r.ro I'lmplea, Stle, IVlIs, an ! Cntn mfras lup tlons. 'WTiin tlio t iin? i Si-rcf nlacv waiTilrisof Ityi pros b f-m h indi. ..tit,. no time fhounl Iv. ---A. nn Ater's SlRSAPARIT.I.A, tho nnlv . rfoi-r :itnl Toll able medicine or (ho j : iik-ition of the tiiood. SCROFULA I. afoul rorrn; !i .n in i'. b! ! tbst rots out all tho iici. :iiii ry - i I,i-.. Tothinsf vriil errulioato it f r n :ho yMt i;i and pre Tent its tr:i:.ini -.ion to c-i-j ritisc b.ut Ater's Pausai akji.i.a. Ti.i r'per:t- tion U also the (.;:! ;-. r o ill ( ! uu-o the blood of Mci-( uvir.l i-oNon and tiic taint of nl:t.i..:s 'o-o. loipover fened blood i. i"d: . fi.o .f A TCirt' '"1 oo- !tidi.-:it.-d ir Palliil Skin, i i.i. t i ! .Mus. los, SP.atterel Nervf , :r.i-i ' l.iiu lioly. Its fiist yrnpt"i!'S !ivo V, eakaesi, LanKiior, Loss of .Ncrvo i" in o, and ."Ti'tit.il Io jortlon. Its course, unchecked, loads; l:uivitab:-.- to in-.inity or de:i;h. XVoripr f rerjtienr iy i!,V r froin it. Tlio only niodi cino th:.i,' wlii'.e i -iri f intj the blood, en rleLes it te w vitality, and iuvlorate the whuK; system, is Ayer'o Garsaparilla, riiF.i'ARitu Br Dr. .T. C Aycr & Co., Lowell, Mas. S-'Id by a'! Tn-iu'cts: Price $1; fcix uotilcs for rTtr' la comros"d Trholly i 4iM9 !r ''l'"- ri. "ch one 1 -A wlu r.- ac.i!;o: .- t tjf tiie moai-i n to be t.io jn..-tp'lentr ftll .IK;! i.i meaicRi I t f..;;cvcry ca-sooi! ' ' I T I II ! ! MM.I .11 Ml iTi-.tiri ni wri ..... ...- - ' ....... tism, Diaboiia. Mono in ine Bladder, llrighfs Dis"jo. T lser.i,. LiTer ( omnlaint nrid I Diseases of itiio Stomach. T T-n-.:r rir,l"srist 11 fl'ltOt 01T PUHlptl- Jlnts on the "itls of Life.' or if yoiiarei-j 1 loorintf un lor a n:seajio noi nicuaon.-i li it or in those advorti'Pir .-n;e, a-ldrcist j . r,r.,prietnrs, S. it, ilartmaa St Co., l sj '(uu.b.is, Ohio. .-,- Lin ilirolyl i A Consti- r' t.a! i , ,:i 1 ' I .L r ..M, lno dol'mr I 'T hott eix for f- io.C i. Directions in tncl.sh and Gcrmn. Jy N. W. (ornsr Fruit Ats.and M mill Jit., PITTEEURC, PA. j Hon. S'v. A. IIfbr. J V. A n:::vacu. j- ..( Hoard. ijl j ard ol Trustee'. Ji;c j Th- l.:..-,.,.- -,l.,-i Tiioronaii. !'r u ticul and f rtP I ce-!i;i '-oii:trc.'U'..!oKi. Enttih l r.uriiPK i Scli ,o In Pennsvivtii!.!. si Stu.l -nA hi-"' y-ar. i K c.'iii t Kuiiilinvs. I irst cl.i-.-i K-iuipmoitK. 27 ! In--:rnct ir-. 15 lm il;(i" and KecU:ilioi, ' K'. i.o--. ''i'pyin;r n : rc:i . vtr 1,IMK) Mt I t. f(.i. ics ol ,-l,e nr.est pice i-r fonm-sn'hlp in trie State iiMltcti r.-ee wuii o t 0I "I 5"Iio'l lliioi: ! iipp' ic:i iel I'. I HHM( N I. Wll. uiams, ,1am. CtiRK Williams, H -ir-;?s Manan'-r A . M. I'rincipal. The CHEAT JUMBO CrtCINE B'tiLEII CtaCi.VEB i Frire.fJT't'UfiiraTil j r- 'it, i. .-.!-' 4 I'eapost T'.i In j the ionrl.i t lordriv iiiK 1 uht m icIkoo- ; tv. .1 e t i he I i ! r. : . r-r vrii.er' e ". ! In- fria Ii!ei I'ttr.l.'i! I rt.-.'C, j T' ri ' !. M".l ire : Ac. .v.. ',nl,ici.r.-r t' Mi i kiifl - l S' rh'iKiry , .Joht tn-.'. ; Sc:, I for I'rtiw: tojue. i r.d Price 1. 1st. 1 H P. RANKIN, ! 6. 8 ft ' IRW1S AVB.. I AMinsTr.r, Pa. May 11, iss.i.-lyr f 3 tfii (f-'ll'pr I ;.r ..-.: r flic i T-... , ,:! V.- r ; 1 f.i r f:.vr iirsiyK.sstit ,.;!. l tl li. r!''ii'. Of in s -mi I'.-' -'.t-- io t .iTo S:i I MOlihl, Oti 1MAW1SU. ota yi. e I.. T llinrv f - o rb.ire ; nd v . i , .!:,. XOCIUiiit: VXI.F.SS r AT EXT y r-f . I.rri-. ' t'..- V. .ilrta?ter. the S.'u:., i f M'iii'iv (Vit-r 1) v.. : d o offieials d rii U. S. atnt Office. Fm c-renlat. ad vic ), teims nod refer .?. to bp'u-i: cij ints in tour own btate or County, wr;to to Cm Jm SXOW S CO., Opp. Fatent Oltiee. W atUlntcUtm, 1. ' f' t c.-,-. t M'i ' i'i J (' : in I I on f IU FISt Mils dll ST"i;". ''.' rex f"Od. 1 V J of no- v I s fc31iiraUii. Chroniv t V- . a i 53PiE ! : a? v. T- - 1 A MAID FORLORN. BY TOF DUCnEPS. CnAPTF.R I. "But, what will your uncle say?" asks Mrs. Rivers, nervously. "My uncle will say just what the Major Pays," replies Ronnie, shrugging her shoulders. "Wouldn't itbeacomfort if the Major died?" says Ocil, from her low chair in the chimney-corner her own special corner, in every house wherein she may go. As she makes this charitable speech, she sighs profoundly. "My dear," says her mother in a tone that is meant to he full of rebuke, but is only fond. "Well, I know that." returns Miss Cecil, saucily; "I am perfectly aware thr.t I am dear to you. What's the good of telling me the same thing over and over again? Only that it would be naughty to one's own sweet mother, I would give you a pinch for stale news." "I suppose even Uncle Gresory can't expect us to live in London all the year round." remarks Ronnie, a frown dark ening her pretty little baby face. It is the funniest little frown, and certainly has no right whatever to be in its pres ent resting-place. "I suppose he can't control our every action." "He can, however, keep us comforta ble or reduce us to absolute want at least, to something very near it." an swers Mrs. Rivers, in a trembling tone. "My mind is made up," savs Cecil, lightly. "Rather than be reduced to absolute want, I shall marry a marquis a duke even if -.?c be. Tt nobody try to dissuade me; I shall do it. oruii." "Then. I'm afraid you will die," re turns Ronnie, who is the least bit of a cynic. "You sha'n't discourage me," says Cissy, gayly. "Even down in the 'de serted village,' where you and mother are bent on burying yourselves, I dare say I shall meet my fairy prince." "I hope he will be a prince worthy of you:" says Mrs. Rivers, somewhat wist fully gazing at the lovely face smiling up at her from the chimney-corner, out of its tangle of golden hair. "Yen hope for too much," replies the owner of the golden locks merrily. "The prince was never yet lorn. I am con vinced, who would he worthy of such pecili ss charms sis mine." "Rut really, mamma, when we are all so tired of town life, why should we Lot go into the country, and especially to this pretty place the Freres have written to us atoiit?" asks Ronnie. "I am sure Uncle Gregory ought to think better of us, for preferring the dullness of a country life to nil the glit- terir.g dif-sipations of the town," ob serves O oil laughing. ! "Your uncle I kes nothing he doesn't j suggest himself," says Mrs. Rivers, j "Then make him suggest it. Let us 1 go to him in a body and tell him how : we are enjoying ourselves here, and ten I to one but he will order us into solitary i confinement, without delay. lie is such j .a perverse old dear." j "Cecil, you talk too much," murmurs her mother, mildly. ! "I'm like the brook," says Cecil, r.n- ; abashed; "I go on forever. After all, I j am better than a stupid girl who can't I talk at ail. Ronnie, how silent you are! ! Don't you like this country scheme?" "Yes." returns Ronnie, very deliber- ! ately. "It is my greatest desire to leave ' town forthwith." ' As she says this, her mother raises i her soft eyes and regards her curiously ! nay, indeed, sadly. Rut Ronnie's I face, whatever she herself miy be think- I ing, is stanch to her, and betrays noth- i ing. j "Yes, yes country air will be good i for us all." says Mrs. Rivers, hastily. "It must be arranged. I wish the Major j could be brought to speak to your uncle I about it." "If you mean that I am to conciliate, and play up to the Major, I simply sha'n't," answers Cecil, with a vicious little nod. "I detest him. It is my be lief he wants to marry that daughter of bis Maria, to Uncle Gregory!" "Oh, no!" says Ronnie, quickly. "He may live in the fond hope that Uncle Gregory, growing disgusted with us and our frivolities, will leave Maria the bulk of his property; but I know he intends her to marry a much younger man. Lady Marsden told me all about it the other da-. It did not interest me, so I have forgotten the minor details, such as names and places. Rut I know this young man has been abroad for years; that he has a tremendous amount of money; that he lives somewhere in the country, in a house beautiful as a dream;" and that the Major was a friend of his father's, and has been a sort of agent over his estate for years." "You remember a great deal consider ing your want of interest," observes Cissy. "Well, if it comes off, I wish this poor young man joy of Maria!" "This poor young r' ln.as you call him. will probab'y not marry to order. Rut tho Major litis quite made up his mir. 1 to it; and he is a man of many re sources." "Now I should like to frustrate Maria!" exch.iitisCecil. "If everl raet this Misguided youth she intends claim ing ?. bir own. If hall make violent love to him." "Cod!!" says Mrs. Rivers again. "Well. then. I sht.il let him make vio lent love to me. Is that better?" "It is not nraiable either way. Iam pure, darling, you would not like to in terfere with any other girl's lover." "Well, fortunately, I can't." futysMiss Cecil, in a tone of resignation, "as I have made up my mind to marry aduke. Therefore this excellent young squire will be beneath my notice." "I think we had better go and speak to your Uncle Gregory about this move." remarks Mrs. Rivers, presently. "You will Ix'th come w.th me, girls?" This is f"'-'1 so hoix'f ally that neither tritl can I'oid it in ln-r heart to ref.ise. "Oil. ves, of course, dearest!" replies Ronnie. " Weil, I do hoi?, mamma, he will not be primed and loaded with evil thoughts of us this time." says Cecil. "Do yon remember our hist visit how he storm ed and raved until Ronnie and youwi re nearly in tears, and I was in a wicked xn"t-'i And ali about a very innocent lit ti trip to the Kensington Museum with Sir Sydney Walctf" "I reiii'!ub -r.". ansv cvs Mrs. Rivers. R.'imie grows a shttih' pab-r. rmd bents her iimrets iisijiiti'-ntly against the edge ot the tabic near her. "lie is burdened with a tomble sense I of propriety," she observes, after a mo ment or two. "He is a male prude. And the Major is always telling him stories about ua in the hope that Maria may be preferred to us at last. Y'ou know she is some sort of distant con nection, and might be easily magnified into a second cousin with a claim to any loose money that might be going." "I shall fall upon Maria some day, and rend her in pieces," says Cecil. "I shall, indeed, mamma. There is little use in appealing to what you are pleased to call 'my better self.'" "Let us go and see Uncle Gregory to day, and speak to him. and get it over," savs Ronnie, decisively. "Yes, do let us," cries Cecil And so it is arranged. About five years before, the Honor able Mrs. Rivers had been left a widow, with two little girls and inconsiderable fortune. When only seventeen she had married the younger son of an impecu nious earl, and, therefore, on her hus band's death, found herself possessed of few worldly goods beyond her pen sion and a small sum bequeathed to her by a maiden aunt. Her uncle. Sir Greg ory Growle an old bachelor holding eccentric views of life generally, and the possessor of a large fortune that had been amassed in India had come to her rescue, and, though a crotchety, disagreeable old fallow in many ways, had settled upon her a rather handsome allowance, to be continued or discon tinued at his good pleasure. This allowance, however, was imbit tered to her by sundry scoldings, de livered at odd intervals, and much un called for advice about "the girls," who, as they grew up, were frequently de clared by their granduncle to be too much for their mother, who plainly did not go the right way to control . 'hem. He furthermore gave it as his opinion that they ought to be kept in subjec tion. All these hints and innuendoes did not help to endear Sir Gregory to his gran.lnieces, thoutrh there was still an C'ther person, who. if possible, was more objectionable in their sight. This was an old friend of their uncle's a swarthy Ang'O-Indian, named Major Jervis, about sixty yt :irs of age. He had been a so-called friend indeed of the whole family for many years, and under that name had managed to mal-te himself particularly ohnoxous both to Ronnie and Cecil Rivers, who had taken little a;ns to dS ruiso their dislike, and. by chilling replies and remarks, which some! irr.es bordered upon im pertinence, had let him know what they thought of him. These signs and tok ens of ill-will had of course been no ticed by the Major, and treasured up in his memory, to be repaid fourfold should occasion offer. He had one daughter, a certain Maria Ixniisa, on whom he had centered all his ambitious hopes. She was tolerably good-looking, and to marry her to rank and ; wealth, or even wealth without the rank, I was the dream of the Major's life, j Just at this time he had for her in ! his mind a pnrtie unexceptionable in 1 every respect, flnd only awaited the op portunity to throw lier in his way. I Mr.ria Louisa, who was well known to the Rivers girls, was very distasteful to them, principally perhayis because they ! attributed to her father the meanness , of retailing to their Uncle Gregory all i the stories he heard of them simple stories enough in themselves. but, when distorted and exaggerated, black as , Erebus. To-day, as M rs. Rivers and her daugh- ters enter the library in the handsome ! house in Cromwell Road that calls ; Gregory Growle master, they find their i uncle stretched upon "a sofa, with one i leg well bandaged and a rather sour ex ; pression upon his cadaverous counte I nance. "Glad you felt it your duty to come to see me, even r.t the p'eventh hour," ; he says, unpleasantly. "One might lie dead and buried for all one's relations would care! Perhaps, indeed, you 1 would prefer seeing me buried. Rut beware, beware!" I " 'Trust her not, she is fooling thee,'" quotes Miss Cecil, in a low tone, to i Ronnie, who can hardly suppress a ! smile. "Dear uncle." says Mrs. Rivers, who i is ready distressed, not having heard of : his illness, "I had no idea von were laid ! up again with your old enemy." i She is plainly alluding to the, gout, which is a devoted adherent of Uncle : Gregory's. Indeed, he is a perfect ! martyr to it, and it does not help to sweeten his temper. "If we had known of it, the girls and : I would have been here long ago to in , quire after you," she continues, in a ; conciliatory tone. I "That may or may not be," returns , Uncle Gregory, uncompromisingly, , though some .viu'.t appeased by her gen tleness: "1 only krow you never did come. Well eh! And what news, ' fh?" He is, as every one knows, the most ! notorious old news-momrer in town, ' and is jitst now utterly disheartenedhe 1 cause ho can not attend his club, where '' the choicest nmrn-nx rf scandal are disseminated daily. "Very little news any where just at ! present." answers Mrs. Rives, absent- ly. She is anxiously wondering how ; she shall tiring in the subject of the i country scheme. ' "1 hope you have not hern letting ! those yirls out acrain without yourself." says Uncle Gregory, irascibly. "I hoard about that Kensington trip from Major Jervis. who saw Them there. Wrong, very wrong, my dear !;nor:'young wo men should never be allowed to go any where without their mother or guard ian." "Sir Sydney Wah'ott is such an old friend." responds Mrs. Rivers, nervous ly. "th.it I thought they mieht safely go with him." "Old! 1'noli! Seven-;oil-twenty, I stippo.se! A boy indeed! And no doubt ! dissipated too." Ronnie's eyes (lash fire. - . "The pnent cenei it ion," pursues Sir Gregory, "knows no boys. They are all gi "wn up from their erad'es: and girls should in it be trusted out of one's s'urht. You can't be too caiefni, mv dear Kli nor." "I should wish to b" careful, of course," says poor Mrs. Rivers, in a de pressed tone. "Tiien makp Sir Sydney discontinue his visits. I l:';ir from a certain quar ter how frequent they are." At this Ronnie crows vtle. and, lift ing her blue eyes, fixes them beseerh iri 'lv upon her mother Her mother. though she refuses to meet her glance, stiil feels deeply for her. "I think any young man who keeps philandering after two girls for months together, without coming to the point you see, I know everything, my dear Elinor should be summarily dealt with. I have heard a good deal, and I think Sir Sydney should get his conge. If he is not going to marry the girls, he ought to be forbidden at the house." "He can't well marry us both, poor soul!" remarks Cecil, demurely. "The law forbids." "Eh? Eh?" says Uncle Gregory', ir ritably. "At all events, he certainly can't marry me," Cecil goes on, suavely, in spite of a warning glance from her mother, which she pretends not to see. "Because the duke wouldn't hear of it!" "The dukel What duke?" demands old Sir Gregory, raising himself from his recumbent position, to stare blank ly at her. "My duke," replies Cecil, boldly, though her eyes are sparkling with laughter. "Didn't you know of it? I have made up my mind at last, and nothing under strawberry-leaves will content me!" "It is only Cecil's nonsense," says Mrs. Rivers, in an agony. Her dearest Cecil, she tells herself, is so inconsiderate, and so thoughtless; and if the old man should be offended Rut the old man is not offended. On the contrary strange to say he is amused, and gives way to a prolonged chuckle. "Eh? Eh ?"he says again. This is his favorite ejaculation. "So you are fly ing high, are you? Well, I wish you luck. But" with a relapse into his former tartness, and a glance at Ron nie, who is sitting calm and pallid as an early snowdrop "don't have your duke dangling after you for months, making vou a laughiiiH-stcV for all your friends." Ronnie sighs, and grows even a shade paler. Her mother, seeing this, turns hastily to Sir Gregory. "I agree with you," she says, though the words almost choke her. "And to prevent any further nonsense of the sort you speak of I think of taking the children" they are always children to her "down into the quiet country, that is. if you approve of the move." "To the country?" repeats Uncle Gregory, taken aback. Then he tells himself he has taken to heart his ad vice about avoiding the sullying influ ence of tow n-life, and he is haltered. "Well, I'm sure I'm glad you have at last determined to act on my sugges tion," he says, in a gratified tone. "Come to me again to-morrow, and we shall see what can be done about your re moval into the country. You are a very sensible woman, Elinor very sen sible indeed." By which they know he will put no obstacle in the way of their going to the new al'de en which they have so set their hearts. That niirht as Ronnie and Cecil are brushing their hair, preparatory to go ing to bed. Cecil, turning suddenly to her elder sister, lays down her brush, and places her arm around her. "Dearest," she says tenderly, "how is it you want to leave town now, just when he has returned home again?" "You mean Sir Sydney Walcott, I suppose?" answers Ronnie, in tremb ling accents. "I leave town, because because I want to test him. It is all quite true what they say. He has been coming here for months and months, as you know, and yet lie has not spoken to me aliout He has not" with a vio lent effort "asked me to marry him!" "And what of that?" says Cecil, val iantly, patting her shoulder, with a re assuring touch. "He will ask you some day. I know very well." "And, in the meantime. I am to be a laughing-stock to my friends," returns Ronnie, bitterly. "Don't mind that cross old man. dar line't such a speech as that only meant an additional twinge of gout," "Nevertheles, I shall be gladto leave town; I can not brr it longer," says Ronnie, earnestly. "If he honestly loves me, he will follow me to Bianks mere; if not well. then, if rot" with a little heart-broken sob, "I shall know he never loved me at all." j "You will never know that," is the j consoling answer "never, I low you. lid adores you. He will fol Ifeel it I know it." At this Ronnie, turning suddenly to her sister, kisses her warmly. "At all events, this visit to the coun try will decide, all tilings," si e says, with some renewed hope in her voice. T trust Uncle Gregory will not put any obstacles in the way of our going, at the last moment." "He won't Major Jervis is out of town," snys Ce-di, significantly. Time proves her words true. Before another week has tb-n they find them selves established in ;i prellv. old-fashioned house, in the q tiet country. CHA1TKR II. The snow is falling f.'t at Branks mere. All the air is fed! of it. The wintery wind, coming with a rush round the angles of the Louse, cat thes it and floats it toward Ihe windows, where it eitr.gs o sii! and pane. The laurels at Cue end of the lavn. and all the evergreens in the shrubberies, have lost ther individuality, and have chang ed from gr en to dazzling white. Far below, in the bay, the sullen ocean rushes inland with a roar, and dashes against the giant rocks, winch take no heed of its passion. Above is a sky all dttii and leaden-hued. below a world monotonously white a world in which the trees, bereft as they are of leaves, and gaunt and bare as skeletons, show black against its chilly purity. Cecil, standing at .he window, con templates this dreary picture with a slielitly discontented expression on her usually smiling face. "Just like my luck," the says, in a plaintive tone. l'resitniahly she is addressing her mother and sister, who are sitting be fore a glorious fire. iied high with fra grant pine-wood; but her eyes are fixed with mournful reproach upon the de scending snow. "What, darling?" questions her moth er, rousing hersi If iron a pleasant re verie to a.-k the q.iastion. "I am alluding to the mow," replies C'""fiT,still in the 4ame melancholy tone. "In my 'heart I a n calling it bad names. Here we liavebesn.for two whole, long, interminable days in this new neighbor- hood, and I have never yet been able to get out to explore it, as would be my delight. Yesterday it rained. To-elay it snows. What bitter linesl I shall go out of my mind, if I am 'cribbed, cabined, and confined' much longer." "It is bard on you my 'red rover,' observes Ronnie, with a smile, glanc ing up from the piece of coarse ugly ticking she is embroidering. "No aspersions on my ruddy locks, if you please," says Cissy, putting up her hand to her hair, w hich is really charm ing, and of that very rare color where brown melts into amber and amber in to a still warmer shade. "To-day my spirits are too low to admit of my tak ing it amiably. What an irritating thing snow is! So slow and would-be meek, yet so determined. And how brown it makes one look! I 'feel just like a Zulu or a North American Indian wdien I compare myself with it." "Certainly it is not becoming," ad mits Ronnie, reflectively, gazing peu Bively at her own dear little face in a mirror near her. "It puts one out of conceit with one's self." "It is downright spiteful," says Cecil, vindictively. "Yet I think one never thoroughly appreciates a good tire, until the snow is on the ground," puts in Mrs. Rivers, sleepily, at which remark both the girls laugh in concert. "I never saw the day or hour you didn't enjoy it," says Cecil, saucily, whereupon her mother laughs too. Silence follows. Mrs. Rivers dozes. Ronnie stitches. Cecil commences a low-spirited and dismal tattoo upon the window-pane. To say the least of it, it is a elepressing noise. Ronnie bears it patiently for many minutes, until in deed her nerves are quite unstrung, and then she says, meekly: "I dare say it is musical, dear, and that my want of taste is unpardonable, but wdienever I hear that noise I feel I want, tc die." Cissy foregoes her wielmcholy amuse ment, and mourns that even litis poor consolation is denied her. "I really think it is charming," she says presently, with some faint show of animation. "It looks ever so much brighter, doesn't it. Ronnie? After all, it can't hurt much; so I shall put on my thincs, and get even one small scamper before it grows dark." "My dear child, do not dream of such a thing!" exchiims Mrs. Rivers, sitting quite upritrht this time, and looking dis mayed. "It is a terrible day, you will catch your death of cold!" "I wouldn't be guilty of such a thing for worlds," returns Cissy, gayly, "and besides. I shouldn't dream of interfer ing with Ronnie's special ro?c. She catches cold for all the family" glanc ing fondly, even regretfully, at her fra gile sister, who looks younger than her self, but ii in reality two years hex senior. "The village is only a mile away; I shall walk there, and see what i is to lie-seen, and if I am snowed up be- yond hope of return, I dare say that fat I little woman at the inn will give me ' shelter." - - "Y.ui mean the woman who was so kind to us. when one of our horses came to grief the day of our arrival, the day before yesterday?" asks Ronnie. "Mrs. Stilton, they caliber. I never forgot it: she did look so like a cheese." "Yes. Don't look as if this was to be our Anal farewell, mamma!" cries Cissy, with an impressible laugh. "You haven't a chance of getting rid of me so easily. T will return; you know me well!' But in case I shouldn't" she has her hand by this time on the handle of the door, and is looking back mis chievously at her mother "if it be my lot to be discovered stiff and stark and frozen in some picturesque hollow, re- 1Y. ember, l leave my uems to icoruiie and my kittens to yon. Don't let them starve." "I wish you would not jest on such horrid subjects." says Mrs. Rivers, in a nervous tone that fills Miss Cissy with delight. "And I wish too" But the door is shut before she can disclose her second wish, and Cissy is beyond reach ef eyes and ears. Of course, she carries the day, ami present ly comes downstairs, and starts for In r walk half-smothered in furs, and with the daintiest of little otter-skin caps up on her head. The whole costume suits her to perfection, ate!, with a l'ght heart nnd a quick step, she runs up the avenue through the feathery snow-flakes that fall all iuound her, and p:.sse- the f-ntranrsp gale. Oil, the joy of being in the open air rga'n however cold after two days' confinement to the house: And the rapt lire of having "iresli wools and past ures new" before her! All is stiil un known. Sue h a short time has elapsed since Mrs. Rivers and her daughters took possossioti of this their new Lome, and as yet lueir present world is an un explored territory, fnll.it maybe, of. delightful possibilities and golden treas ure. To-day the spirit of adventure is rife within Cecil's breast. She moves brisk ly, with a buoyant air, up the road: past the wall that bounds her own place, past a gn'e that leads no doubt to some r.ear neighbor's dwelltr.g, ruyi straight on until she comes to the open highway be yond. Here she comes to a stand still, and ponders a whole. A broad ro.:d stretches to iier rigid, a large com mon to the h ft: yet she has been lord that both will bring her to the village, and that the common is fhe shortest route by a full mile! Which shall sue take? After a short but severe strug gle with prudence she pushes it into the background, and decides on speed and the common. It looks vast nay, even vague; but. taking the little wt 11 beaten path that I es through it, sue walks on bravely, with her head held high, and a delicious sense of freedom, light . air. youth, pervading her whole being. As she. goes, and as tiie road grows dint behind her. she even breaks into song, and carols as sweetly as any bird that flies tbe 'r. So passes a long hour, and then then slowly, and without any undue mis giving it occurs to her that the village must le further off than she has been told. Surely it is a good mile that she has traveled; and that was the distance specified! At this time she is not frightened; but presently, as the storm rises, and the snow falls ever faster and faster, and she finds she-has uiieon ' sciously quitted Hie path, and is walk ing upon graiCri ?tdrle feeling of nerv ousness gains upon her. How can she know where the path 'may lie,, when all is so evtn. so covered w ith an nid.roVfii shroud of purest white? Rough Boreas has awakened, and, ever and anon rushing at her. seizes her in his strong embrace, and. shaking her slight frame with rude violence, leaves her breathless and unstrung. The dark ness is grow ing rapidly. Already a veil of somlier hue is overshadowing tho land. Twilight deepens, yet no village is within sight, no road can meet the eye; the bare wide common seems rast er, more interminable than ever. She is alone upon a desolate waste, uncer tain where to go, which turn to take! The horrible thought that she maybe lost really lost, like one of those un happy people one reads about, but hard ly believes in. comes to her with un pleasant force. But she fights against it, and walks on, determined to over come the sensation of fatigue that, in spite of all efforts to subdue it, is as serting itself. Another cruel gust of wind, arising suddenly, and sweeping lioisterously past her, unnerves her, and reduces her almost to despair, and it is at this mo ment luckily that she finds herself once more on the edge of the common, with a road on her left hand a road well covered with snow tieyond question, and leading she knows not whither, but still a veritable road. With renewed hope she quits the un friendly common, and walks on, weari ly but ileterminedly, for quite another half mile. Her feet are growing pain ful; an increasing longing to sit down and indulge the miserable drowsiness that is creeping over her, if only for a short while, frightens her. Clenching her poor little frozen hands and forcing back the tears that are dimming her eyes, she still struggles on, though hope within her is again almost dead. So another quarter of a mile is con quered; and then, when she is least ex pecting succor, what is that she sees ! through the gathering gloom? A light ! a bulge a graveled avenue, and two ! big pillars on which rest dracem's heads t that grin defiance on passers-by. Yet n."er did tender lambs seem sweeter . in Miss IVvers's sight than these threat- ! ening beasts. i Not waiting to summon the lodge- ; keeper, with her own trembling fingers ! she undoes the fastening of the gate; i and. forgetful of fatigue and fear, runs , swiftly all down the curving avenue, never drawing breath until she reaches ' the hall-door, and knocks with eager haste. I It is opened by an old man in irre- I proachable livery, with a pock-marked skin, but a benign expression. , "Can I see the lady of the house?" j begins Cecil, anxiously, almost timidly. "I have lost my way. I am a stranger I here; and I don't know my way home." The old man looks concerned; and, ; stepping back, entreats her respectfully t to enter. : - ! "1'ray, miss, come in! Dear me, dear ' me. what a nitrht to be abroad!" re garding with deep compassion the little ! Woe-begone figure before him. with her ! furs all covered with snow and her blue eyes bright with tears. "There is no ; hiistress of this house as yet," he goes on graveiy; "but. if you will follow me, j ma'am, Mrs. Richards, the hoiisike ep er, will do what she can for you. Dear me, dear me. what a night!" Cecil, hardly knowing whether she is relieved or sorry at the news that she must trust herself to the tender mercies ; of a housekeeper instead of a chate- , laine, follows him through two brill- iantly lighted halls, down a corridor, and into a warm, cozy room, where sits an elderly woman, knitting by a fire. "Beg pardon. Mrs. Riehards," says her first frieiiel, in a mysterious whis- ! per; "but tlrs young lady has lost her t way in the snow, and has come to ask j shelter here." j "Bless me!" exclaims Mrs. Richards, ; looking over her spectacles. She rises, t advances a little, and, having, satisfied herself about Cecil's appearance, drops : a slight courtesy. ! "I'm so sorry to trouble yon," says j Cissy, quickly, with a rather nervous ' lauLdi, beginning to think that, after all, , genuine adventures are not quite'such , enthralling delights as she has hitherto . imagined. "But I don't know the neigh borhood. I left home intending to ' reach the village; but I lost my way; 1 and don't know what would have l- i ceime. of me, but that fortunately I found this place. The snow was so blinding, and the wind so strong, and , I am so tired." . ; j Her voice quivers pempt bly. and two tears th.it wdi not lie n -pressed ' steal down her pale cheeks. Sinking ; into a chair, she looks piteous!-at Mrs. Richards. That kind-hearted woman is not proof against so much lieauty and distress combined. The little break in the voice does wonders the tears still move: but the piteous, appealing glance makes a conquest of her forever. Then and there she falls in love with -MLss It; vers. ' ' "My dear young lady, you are quite woru out!" she ci ies, com tug quickly to her side, and hastily removing the snow crowned hat and the. damp jacket, "l'eters. brim some brandv directlv." "Oh. no!" si'.vk Cecil faintlv. "But. indeed, my de; turn? - Mrs. R ch u,'.-. Land ai:'l:o; ivolv as vent furl iter d .scul- m inor too weak to do bat r. I insist. re- vottnii up one though to pio- : and Cissy, b-. 1 !. she Iris her hart her you".' l.ir.ve ai tn-ehtm- ewii wav. and soon rge ensconced ;n a before the fire. She has bathed her 'Vet and her hands, and has even unearthed from some oi l family chest upstairs a tin v p iir of quaint 1 iiae velvet sl:p; i rs that s;rt C:s-v a o'idei f we. I. II. M -s Rivers ieed, after a 1 tt'e hi declares h tse!;' quite t ecov.- 1 Imt ii ni lu ttd and lmdv. and nor a hit Uie wo;e for her fatigue and : nx ety. "I felt so strange." si:v si'.vs, pr-e.t-ly. will: a !anu:d stniie, " hen 1'e'irs SH'i re v. as no im st 1 1 s n 1 be Lou.- e. Is 1':'!, "Tiie; R'lc.-u c "Rut ho I "ivd -for two; fc'OIi'.iis ht re nut you i l.i:.' r." 1 eol'CS Ml s. l-S I'.. I :. look !!:' p li.U.i r I'M !.'. ) t Will avcit, : s :;ie igland her knitting. !. 'our da-, s. o'd m:.tei. u i e died s x ii ill lor the a-i then. ;.nd it few V- t r has heel: h i it h is 'nil :;t voir-, fl ag!, l . C; pren rt v; b-;t i:t V : only rt inree t t ( K since. 1 heil-M he knuws about as ht t'e tin it-.-.-! b.u ;.oim1 as oti do. ::n -.-; .indeed. I am tb" only one in tbe h'-:.-c who does Vnow it.-as the obi lot evs ept lay seif left m a 1m1v mi the mart's death, and Mr. Craven broeghi ail h s firesent staff of servants wrtli him item ns other piace in Kent." C.ssy ilush- s. and looks distressed. "If iiolmdy here 1 mow sunt thu.g.i'oout the ileic idi, 'o-';. sV- sa s. hervi -nsly . "how ron I t' let nK'nuoa he;ir w ! r..- I am. i-ipi t'uat 1 em s.ifo?" 7 To b Cr?:nu d- CHILD-FAITH. I arrUed at tba Miction t tbe appointed hour. I entered, or rather was thrown, by ap atterdant, into the car nearest to ma. The doOr was quickly phut. The whistle wan blown and we were off. Curiously enough tbe car was no crowd cd . I formed the fifth passenger-. Two of tbe corner were occupied, one by an officer aid tbe oU r by a ci villa. n. x'acing me was a woman about 80 year old, neatly and modestly drced, and beside her nt tbe most beautiful little chilil I ever saw a little jrirl aliout 6 j ear old, with a flood of blonde rur waving "Tinder ber immense rtraw bat. Now and then the child would look ll.ronch the win dow ia the dirc tion of tbe engine, and then her eyes seemed to wander in tbe in finite Fpac that was cnndlir.c ttsc'.f In-fore her. We came to a station. The train flopped- The little pirl put her face to the window. l don't see Lini." Then (rnddenly her face brightened and bet eyes lit with Roldt-u hues, phininn with lnde Bcribnble joy, while her lijis came down upon two bands that came from the fi terior and were placed npon the frame ot the open window. "Ah. papa' Here la papa"' exclaimed my little neighbor, with the exulierjuit and innocent joy of her years. It who tbe enclneer of our train, who had come to hpeak to hit little daughter and his w if e, w ho waa seated in front of me. We must make up for lost time," re plied the man. Were yon afraid. Jeanne" "No," naid the child, d.ecause I knew that you were driving." Veu, by-by," unid the man, as he left. Well, by-by, papa," sidd the ekild, throwing him a kiss. The train started and gradually reached an extraordinary Fpeod. I worship little children, and I beiian to examine tbe little one in front of me. She was full of life and good humor. She amused herself with everything and nothing, cajoling with her mother, inquisitive with the window, and se ere with her doll. She was carry ing, on a thousand ciitTerent conversations ell at once, and with a noiw that was almost deafening, when suddenly the gentleman iu tbe other comer excluimed ; "Decidedly, we are golrg too fast. The train will ?nrelv run i.T th track"' "Oh, don't In? afraid." said the child, eerVins'y, "pap ie diivlLg." The officer nr reno'.np. He looked out of the winGcrw, and then rvvjtned hifl i reading without making any obeerTanioa, Theothtr peutlemen aaix. oecn to talk. The officer closd bis book and stretched ! himself aloug the set. "I would not advise you all to do the tame," aaVJ he, ! with the grt atert coolness. "If you kep seated your i wl ' I sjunhhad. Re I mercbef" the Vernal'di - accident. ' I "Thin is certainly malr. tat" be oim I tintied- Yes, nukdauie. he wuJ addrese 1 leg tbe lady, yonr htjR'.mnd U either 1 flrttrjk or crnyy." j "Oh, rir," wild tli lady, "my hnebar'. ; nes-oi gets drunk. Vou cav, him. m ZTuie ' while ago. Certainly tM trrAn is going I a a furious rat, i don't understand It." ; Indeed, the trait? wan rnninug at ter ! rtfying rat, vbat in the world oould i the eT.glr.eei rnean by surh drtvlag "I am aftnidf" said the r1thpn, white . with terror, I TLcn the offtVc-r took ue aside. Here is rjey name and aotfresp." said he. "If 1 ' Arb killed or mortally wounded la the accident to which we atx mriiirg and you ; MtHl prom!- me now tuii j'Ca ?.". Carry these dlf patties w1th.nt a .moment's 1 delay to the general whose name yon will I find by opening this envelope." i I promised. , She woman took the thill in her anus covered her little face with tears and klssae. She seemed to w iEh to make- a rampart of herself to protect the little one Bcaiupt the frightful 6m.a.di-up that was uJumentarLiy expected. ; "I am cot afraid," said the child, binil Irjgty; "papa is driv lag " And she alone Among tbe pn sseng-rs rf the car, mid flouhdefs she alone arnci:! all on lynrd the tndn, hud ';i!th and co:.r. : ri.ee. We ! could hear in the other cars cri-s of terror ! And wailtngs of desrair, and, iu spit ot the mother, tie cliid leaned out of, the window In the back dor and shouted out rkh all the force of !.r liitle lungs: pon't be nfta'.d; papa Is driilr-ir' Ahl that rweet little pin, tn ih-. rem) terror, was a tower of strer.rth, w-i-.h that sacrfil love cf a child for a father r.n affection that notLiiig oun bretik down. Gradual!.",- Uie '.H'd tk-w'p:' and JrU? to A MHru-ti'.l. We w. rv at a rtariou. The ei.clr.eer came to th djr. "We have bven oinff very fest.1' suit h. but ?j all ta-' t!j we my.jt (.-ft to Keims tie ore tba Priist'.ar.c 1 i'.'iL v. e Juut do at the risk of being blown up or smfehed to pieces on tbt war. I'm told trmt we ere parrying imtxirtaut dispatches, " and he looked at bin little fdrl with tenrs in hi P ye a "Give rr.c yonr b&r.d." srdd tbe officer. "Yon are a bre fellow. It is I who have the doppaU hc-s." Ku route!" then said ttc man, ai.d he gac a pp.rting glance at the fairy fi rm cf Lis 1 1.I..1. ns if to bid her farewell. Jtnt Jenr.ne was rot afraid; and, mrc.1' f r, inilody in onr O'lnpart UttTit was afraid any lijer. We knew th.it we wcie rik'.:;g mir l:ts for our coat.try, and that f-.-.Ti-f .1 us. As for tbe train, it reCon.meuccfl its furious race. This was in tbe n-.c?ith of S-7-icm!eTt 1S70, on the T. stem llu. " The Watch W: l.or.drd. Herr Hsger, tbe wci;lll.y pnrcti.nl man ir. tbe w. r'. earrirs a ror.ple of cr-v!i' with him. Thanks to this hunker, is a '. rde'. always !:H-t-rs about habit lie is a fr-juent victim cf v'-' kj-cketn, as not a wefk paspc? wltb'T b'c jki o;;e of his watches; At frst he bad recourse to ail kind of safety cbo.ns, then :.e flee morn ing bo took i e pre. nut!. -n w bn'eviT and Q"l'tly allcwc 1 1 tn self to le rohlicd. At nlaM, on returning trum bir.fch.e-i. Tie took tap theevet ltig pajrer. when bo uttered an exclamation of di! :ht. in, .1 fit or. i e r-tevt off to the pol'i e f-taticri. hlfi is what he vend: "To-day. Bti:t two P. M., a lolect explosion took place tn a boTso in B street, occn; .ed by Ir. S., a wealthy townsman. The bands of the victim are shattered nnd bis left ete gone." Tbe crafty banker had Idled the watch oaae w :th dyi ;m. lie, vl.vh exploded dnrtng tlif operr." i"ii of wit '.::! Sii.ee that time no morV watches bnve l& n toln from the , ersonof Herr liager c'oarrter de T Euroj. PIit for Another Farce by Howell. It is told of - a wt lld.ni i wn clfltr'.y gcmUejr.Bii of Ifcistou, who s decidedly diaf, thttt one tvtr.ing iici . a- he waa passing along the dark--! portion of Charles nreet, he waa ci-nf routed br'two trampified appear in, indtv iduais sdicUiny assistance. Net uf.drn'fti.dit.g them, he eanpht from fits pocket a snail btA glistening ear tn:nl -t and j. laced tt te hat er with the rvrmnk tlmt bo was a Bttla hard c4 hearing t - 1 is u"i shmeot tX fallow at or.ee tool: to tteir bctfe, ehaV Inja: "Look oct. .e's L-rrif.g to sbootf 1 t , t ,.1 Anticipation vtnoi It call fatten. r'ApectHlit Hetr jbefore tho will is read) T'nrro's death was a t-ad and untimely one To think that but a short time ao that r.oMt- old man trod the earth in pereci health; to-day his voice is forever hunhcd iu the oonir. of eterrltyl Ah. taet Expectant Heir (after the will is read That will can be broken on tbe ground es insanity. The ol4 foU w as cray fee. twenty years. f f i ill i "
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