CI.EOPATRA.
DeatCi Itfrted within the velvet of her cheek.
And in the myriad tangles of her hair.
And In her eye*, which draw mon to despair.
And on her lips, whose thrill makes strong men
weak.
Tea, all the honeyed aooentß she could speak
To men death-laden ware, nn unaware
Though ties* they list giuml heeding not Die ware
Which caught their manhood in wll pmaoy'a
freak.
Brave An tony 1 when o'er I pause to t' ; -k
Of all thou wert. and all thou miglit't have bet,
Thy soul enm shed and over on the b ink
Of cureless woe, thus bound to Kg .pi *<jitueii,
Erom tears 01 pity I can scarce refrain
That in her arms were lost such soul slid brain.
—Alexander .Macauley.
NIGHT AND HORNING.
8 I have said, J>
si*' my brot li e t
withes v e ry mm !,
to know my I i 111 e
sister, mid you are
sure to be happy
Fernglade. It, i -
ISMS '® u< i ß ° n - t!"i
sim e her uncle die
nui very anxiou ••
see you." I was only too willing to
eept'tho invitation in my hand, needing
jtouo of dear Geoffrey's ur dug, and said
so very frankly. I knew nothing of my
brother's betrothed wife, Gertrude run
ning, excepting that she was u widow o,
24 or 25, and owned a splendid esta'■
upon the Hudson, called Ferngla'i
Geoffrey had been a friend of Sir. tin .
mersley, Mrs. Fanning'a uncle, niul ! ,t !
met and loved Gertrude. The wedding
was to be in Juno, and my invitation we
for the month of May. 1 was free to go
and come as I pleased, Geoffrey and )
boarding in New York, with sufficient
worldly wealth to live without work, al
though my brother practiced his prolu
sion—the law—rather than lead nn i r j
tireiy idle life.
Ho escorted me to Fernglade, and, in- |
troducing me, left me to the care of Gcr '
trudo Fanning and her companion, an
elderly widow named Clarke.
flow can I describe Gertrude Fanning .
She was tall, nobly formed, carrying her
self with dignity, and yet, she gave you |
only the impression of" great sweet nes
of disposiiion. Her blond linir, honey am:
silky, she wore in simple coils, Iho idi
over her forehead it waved in natural
curls. Her great beauty was in an o.\- j
quisitcly moulded mouth, with rows of
pearly white teeth, making her smile a
loveliness indescribable. But with luo ,
blond hair, her p.'.le, clear completion. !
and delicate features, she had black e. -.
Bhaded by dark brows apd lashes, tank- ,
ing her face singular as well as hcai'i
ful. |
Her dress was of rich black silk, with
out trimming or ornament, relieved o - .- I
by rallies of linest wliite lace.
She greeted me cordially, and innf
days we were fast friends, ulilioug:, 1 ;
was many years older than herself 1!..;
while we talked of everything else. Mm J
was singularly reticent about lior own ;
life, giving me none of the confidence i
half expected. Once, only, she men- !
tioned her husband, when I had asked 1c
see his picture.
"I have no picture of him," she said, \
and hor lips were white and shaking c- j
Bhe spoke. "I keep nothing to remii,! !
me of him, because 1 hope to foig- i , in.
Jessie! Jessie? I hope to iorgei luin. hi-- j
cause when I think of him 1 forge, my
Christianity, my womanhood, and can
only curse his memory."
She tremble 1 like a leaf, and her voice
rose in a passionate cry :
"J was Harold F mining's wife six ,
months, and if I had been a criminal
for forty years that six niutrhs was lor- ;
tura enough to punish me for a i t fle.i
away from him, and uf erwurd- I •
died."
I took licr cold, trembling hand .u
mine, and begged her to suy no inui- ,
but she said :
"My uncle warned me, but I was
young, only 17, anil Harold persuaded un
to elope with him. When my uncle in
fused to forgive us. Harold showed me
his true nature, and modo mo suffer f,r
his disappointment tliat I had lost m,\
probable inheritance of Fernglad--.
When I left him and came back, unciu
forgave me, but he diod, leaving a condi
tion in his will by which 1 would forfeit
my inhuir nee if ever again I lived
with Harold Fanning, or he came here.
Only two months utter Harold diod."
1 was sorry she had spoken, for she
was terribly shaken ; but Geoffrey name
up from the city soon after and melan
choly cannot live where Geoffrey is. We
call him an Irishman, because he is so
tall and strong, with florid face, curl
ing brown hair, blue eyes, milk-white
teeth, and a voice and luugh clear and
ringing as a boy's. Never have 1 seen
Geoffrey depressed or dull since we were
left orphaned thirty years ago, to lov
nnd pot, each other. He was rather suy
and remorseful when he gave away so
large a share of his big, true hcurt to
Gertrude; but. when he found I was not
Jealous, only truly and entirely happy in
his liappiuess, all his bright, self came
buck again.
It must have been by the rule of con
traries that he and Gertrude loved each
other, for her natural disposition wits
morbidly sensitive and inclined to melan
choly, though she would grow el -f:.i
with Geoffrey ; as who would not?
May was "gone, June half over, ami
the wedding-day only one week away,
when one evening, just "In the gloam
ing," I wulked down to the summer
house by the river-side, alone. 1 km--*
that Gertrude was somewhere in th •
garden, for the heat was oppressive in
doors. Geoffrey was coming, as usual n,
the evening, and for the first time Ger
trude wore white—a thin muslin dress,
with soft pink trimming in her hair i
had twisted some half-Mown io-.es ol
Eatost pink, and never had I seen her mi
rvely.
I sauntered slowly towards the sum
mer house, and was nearly there, when 1
saw Gertrude seated upon the i ustie
bench alone.
"Who is waiting for Geoffrey," 1
thought, and was stealing away, when
boot shot up to the landingsl eps b-ailin„
to the summer house, anil a man stepped
out. Not Geoffrey— a man shorter and
slighter. I was aliaid lie came witli some
evil intent, and stood walling, ready to
call for assistance, if it was needed.
Gertrude saw him only when he stood
in the door of the summer honse on the
river Bide. Never shall I forget her look
of horror, as, white as snow, she cried :
"Harold!"
I grasped a tree to keep from falling.
Harold !—Gertrude's husbuud !
"Hareld!" lie sneered, mocking her
tone. "You scarcely expected lo see
mo! 1 forgive your eurprPe, inv love."
"Not dead !" she gaejed— "not dead."
"There wan (rifling em>r in the nnmee
©f the parties concerned fn t.he bar-room
Sght yon probably allude to. Both Fau
lting nn<! Kmory were stronger* in the
western city wTierc tlioy were engaged
la their usual occupation* of ganabbng.
' You see I am frank, my dear. A mac
: should have no secrets from his wife. I'
was Emory who was killed, and Fannlnj
who went to prison. But I was par
done'l, my charmer, and here lam
You look like a sorrowing widow, my
lovo! I understand, however, you aro tc
drop that role next week. I shall nol
interfere, for I have seen your uncle's
will. Hut. if 1 keep out of the way I must
be well paid. '
••Will you go away—stay away— if]
pay you? ' Gertrude cried, quickly.
• I will! You are free, X supposo, as
| the law is so very kind to a convict's
; wife: but when the supplies fall I'll call
| upon yon."
j "They will never fail! Only go! go!
I and not return !"
j "Your welcome is really overwhelming !
! Have you any money about you?"
I "1 will bring you six hundred dollars.
| It is all I have in the house. Will you go
I then?"
"Yes, my dear; leaving my address,
| when wo arrange for future supplies."
She sped to the house, never seeing
I me; and I followed by another path. I
! must tell Geoffrey—l. who loved thorn
! both I The law might froo Gertrude, but
: Geoffrey must know. I loved her, but
i not as I loved my own, only brother.
; And something of my lovo faded us I
thought of the monstrous wrong Ger
! trude was committing. Could sho live
i with the burden of such a soerot between
j herself and her husband?
I I went to my own room, and soon I saw
Gertrude return to the summer house.
She was not gone long, coming slowly
homo again, to meet Geoffrey on the
porch.
I hoard them enter the library together
| and close the door. Oh I the suspenso of
j the long two hours they spent there,
broken at last by Geoffrey's voice call-
I ing me.
He stood alone in the wide, briiliantly
1 lighted drawing-room, and in one rno
i mont I read in his face howl, had wronged
i Gertrude. All the brightness was gone,
the blue eyes were haggard, the merry
j face drawn and white, as if with long iil
! MOSS.
! "Jessie," lie said, hoarsely, "I have
i something to tell you I"
! I drew him down till I could kiss him,
put my arms about his neck and whis-
I per:
1 "I know already, Geoffrey. Do not
blame her."
"Never?" he said, quickly. "But stay
1 with her, Jessie. Stay and comfort her.
I must go. We—we had better not meet
for u time, and I will go abroad."
"Not alone. Oh, Geoffrey, take me
: with . on."
"Sliu needs you more than I do, Jes
sie."
Then his manhood gave way for a mo
-1 mont, and a great sob broke from him,
as bending ids head upon my shoulder,
he sobbed;
"Jessie, my heart is broken. I loved
her so dearly I"
1 could only cry, too, kissing him, and
wishing my slender hands could strangle
out the life of Harold Fanning, mur
derer, who stood between these two lov
ing Hearts.
"1 will write tomorrow," Geoffrey said
at last, looking up, and speaking in a
choked voice; "you will lot me know
often how she is?"
"I will."
"Go to her now, dear. She wants
comfort . Sho told me to toll yon all."
Ho left me then, walking with heavy
steps and bowed Heart down the path he
had traveled the last, time with such a
buoyant tread and bright face. .My poor
Geoffrey! I found Gertrude insonsible
in the library. I never knew how long
she hail lain upon the lloor unconscious,
but it was still long before we could re
store her. I called .Mrs. Clarke, and we
worked together until the color came to
the wliito lips and the dark eyes un
closed. She spoke my name with u
whisper not to leave hor, and we as
sisted her to her own room, whore I re
mained all night witli iter.
Never had 1 loved iter so well as I
loved hor then, seeing her suffer so
bravely rattier than throw any cloud
over Geoffrey's iife. In the morning she
was quiet and composed, but no corpse
was ever whiter as sho moved about the
house. At noon I proposed to drive to
C for Geoffrey's promised letter, and
Bhe ordered the carriage.
There was a crowd around the post-
I office and evidently some excitement.
"Man run over by a locomotive," our
! coachman explained; "drunk, they say,
I and fell across the track just as tho
train started."
"Who is ho?* I asked, with a strange
chill at my heart.
'•Name of Emory, they suy. At least,
that the name ho gave at the bar last
night.''
| "1 will see him," wliisperod Gert rude
, "Oh, Jessie, if it should be!"
1 put my arm around her, and we
! passed through the crowd. Upon the
platform, covered with a horse blanket,
; was a shapeless something, crushed all
- out or semblance of humanity, save the
• evil face, tho almost perfect features,
and heavy, dark beard I had seen once
i laifore, Gertrude did not faint. I put
I her hack 'n Iho carriage, aud over tho
j wires flashed a telegram to Geoffrey:
"F. win* killed by n railway accident this mora
Ing. Coiae at once."
Need I say the next train' brought
Geoffrey? Ho went to C——and reported
that there was more than sufficient for
proper burial on the wretched man's
person, and ho would see that all that
was necessary was done.
Ho advised secrecy, as no one but our
selves suspected the man's identity, and
by our united urging, we persuaded
Gertrude to allow the weddiug to come
off at the proposed time.
"You haVo boon his widow more than
six yeans, Geoffrey said, "and that
dreadful episode may be only a horrible
dream. Try lo forgot the night of sor
row, and thank Heaven for the morning
of deliverance."
Woman-like, Gertrude grieved over the
terrible, unrepentant ending of the
wicked life, hut Geoffrey won her back to
quiet, ha; pine s long before the bridal
trip lo Europe was over.
We all ffv.- si Fern dale now, for the)
will not spare ine, but them are no
shadows Upon our lives, no nightmare
horrors to dread, as there might have
been had Gertrude deceived her prom
ised husband on ti,at niglil when Harold
Fanning eaiuo from prison only to liud
his gravo.—.Vew York Ledger.
Pat-IDi- Codfish Uniikit.
Captain Bell of the steamer A. B. Fiei,d
who was formerly an inspector of llsp
eries on the Allunllc const, recently re
ported al Astoria that he had found a
codfish bank about eight miles front
Nes'iicen, which is neur Cape Lookout,
on the Oregon coast, about sixty-live
miles south of tho Columbia'river. The
cod were found in great numbers, aud
were large aud of excellent quality. This
Is said to be the .list time that cod have
ever been found heretofore south of the
Alaskan shores.—nan Fruuclsco Chroni
cle.
Bvery man ought to tie heartily
ashamed of a gall on Ihe shoulder of th*
animal he drives.
HOJNSS OF THE BALL TEAMS.
Great Interest Felt In the New York* and
Bottom*.
v - - OE be to the man
m JhV /J now " a -days too
T\/a\//7 recklessly ventures
j \Sffj vY?/ opinions as between
! /fhivt W Huston and New
York. But In coui
&\\ paring the relative
merits of the two
clubs, tho adherents
oftheNowY orks can
congratulate them
selves upon the fact that the team goes
as well equippod as its strongest rival.
Even the most rabid supporters of the
Boston team admit this fact.
One of them, in comparing the playing
strength of tho three leading olubs in the
strugglo, said : " Boston is possibly a
shade weaker in the box than either oi
the other two, for everyday work, week
in and week out. We are as strong be
hind the bat as either of the others;
stronger than Philadelphia, unless
Clements catchos; stronger than New
York unless Ewing catches. Conse
quently, I consider that the Boston team
is belter off in catchers than Philadelphia
or New York, because it is better provided
against accidonts. Buck Ewing is a won
der. So long as he is in his place base
running against Now York is out of the
question, but Buck Ewing, catching as he
does, or will have to do, overy day, is in
away to get hurt, and everybody knows
that Buck Ewing, when slightly injured,
is as big a quitter as there is in tho busi
ness.
"New Y'urk has other good catchers,
but it is Ewing's presence on the team
that makes them win, with all respect t
TimKeefe. Notso with Boston. If Ben
nett is knocked out Ganzol can do the
work just as well; and then there is
Kelly, who is not very slow as a catcher.
Philadelphia does not depend on Clem
ents so much us New York does on Ew
ing, and yet Clements is almost neces
sary to the Philadelphia nine every day
if Hairy Wright intends to pull the' pen-
nanl oil' In team work both New York
; and Philadelphia can give ourmon point: ~
but at the bfttJßoetoji i e.jual to either,''
Although the recent work of the Nun'
York team would seem to Justify a ro
j verso prediction from what I made at, the
outset of the season, I am still confldt lit
that when It-aid 80-ton would ultimately
win the pennant I did not shoot far from
the murk. The Boston elttb has no
lately been playing up to the jorm which
it showed itself capable of at the outset
of the season, but the acquisition of
Smith, of Pittsburg, will strengthen the
team in the only spot where it lias been
otherwise weak.
Take every position on the held und
compare the playing strength of the two
teams. New York und Boston, and nine
out of over, ten impartial critics will
agree that only at short witli Ward is the
New York team superior to Boston.
Take the individual work of the men
playing the various positions and com
parison will show that Boston is strong
est in the authority of them. Figures
speak about us plainly as anything can.
In predicting that Boston will win, I
hardly think. liieiefore, thai I can be ac
eused of abusing prejudice to get the
hotter of my jmignu nt. 'Tis human na
ture to err, and I should be happy to
know that, in my error the New York i
team the guiucr.
The Smith whom I refer to above was
released by Pittsburg to Boston for a
consideration of $2,500. Having beon
connected with the Smoky City team for
! so long, it was thought that he would
evince a reiuelance to part with his old
associates and a duikers, whom ho num
bers by the thousand, for "Pop" was
easily the most popular man on the
team. But, on the contrary, he suid the
other day, prior to lra\ing Pittsburg:
"It is the consummation of luy wishes
for the pust two seasons. I would not
have had much chanoe hero anyway this
year. The troubio with the Allegheny
club is that it has too many good men
and that there are so few fixtures in the
intield and out that few of the men have
any assurance one day that they will be
playing the next. Most of the boys are
hatting*-well, and they deserve a better
: show than they are apt to receive for
i some time to come. I am the lirst to
go, and I suppose there will be others, j
As I said before, I am very well sutisfled 1
to go, as. iu addition to my home being >
in Boston, I will receive morn money, j
l cannot suy thut I leave Pittsburg eh
lirely without regret, as I have been 1
here so long and have berni so well
Heated on the tviiolo thut 1 ulinost giew .
to regard myself as a Pittsburger. 1
aave made good friends there and I will
sorry to ieavo them."
(Smith will prove himself to bo a valua
ble man to the Boston i aitugmuonl. lie
i- a good, conscientious, everyday 1
player, and now that ho is with a club i
where he A ill have good opportunities I
he will improve, although really there is
little room for improvement.
But what of the oilier teams in the
leuoue race? It would bo unkind to
slight them iu criticising the all-around
work. Now. there is Chicago. Between
Hie niggardliness of Spalding and the
idealized buii-lieadedness of Anson the
Chicago nine in a pitiable plight. The
record of the season is a history of ex
perimenting wln-ii there was no necessity
for it, line of sacrificing games to eu
price. Then* has not been u time since
the opening of the league season when a
u first-class snort stop could not bo se
cured for less than sh,oot). But Chicago
is not buying stars for $5,000, or any
other amount, it prefers to sell tlieiii
for SIO,OOO each. The result is that the ,
once boasted nine lias not been in play
ing trim, owing to the gap at short. in
stead of getting a man known to he
good, it was tin* policy up to a uiunt.li ago
of spoiliug a good holder to make j
u bad short stop, and a good catcher to
make a bad ii i.i* r, until Bastian was .-,*- I
cured until Win., mon was able to play.
But William-ell is now >••;.*l,v lo play.
He lias re < -.. **..•■ told his iiminis that,
he was nevei *n belter simp", and those
who have seen nun exercising know In*
does not, uveita e Ids condition. He is
the Williamson of old, and could play j
with a vim vnii Ii would make a material j
difference in t iii -iem s standing, Hen ■
not playing, an : * li.eugo is losing games i
it would orl.wv.ee win. because, a, u !
trusted cur.* s . pilelif. who is on the in- ,
side says. S|iiie,ng .vauts to do*-,' Wii
damson fin HI. 'lie time lost, by him in J
recovering troni an injury received in i
Spalding's s: n*e
The Chifi g" e. , uagem-nt has tried iu
vain to eohci ai tins l<jt of parsimonious- 1
noss. The fuels are exactly a- stated. j
More thuu that, the Chicago manage- i
ment hoped that, the sum realized nt a j
recent benefit game would I,or* ived by ,
Williamson as a settlement. Tin* cranks '
who engineered the game, however,
nipped this little plan in lite bud. The
receipts, nearly SI,OOO, were turned over
to Williamson oil the express stipulation j
that i' did not come In any way Iro u the J
mining uncut and that It must not lie re- ,
catved as an offset to his claims for bark
•alary.
JOHN WABRKN. j
| RECENT APPOINTMENTS.
TWO RKI'HKSHHVA TIVEH OF THE
HASRISOX A n.HIMSTHA TIO V.
Homethlng About Hi. ("iir.iir of Thornata
| Coravln IMsiHleiltlalt, IVsn Superintend
ent of the I'onat and Oeudetlo Surveys.
The New United States Conaiil-Ganerai
! to Italy und III* Public-, Life.
Thomas Corwin Mendoahali, i he physi
! list, who liaa been appointed by tho pies-
Ident superintendent of the United Slates
geodetic survey,
\ at a salary of
ijjjy, \ $6,000 per annum,
\ was born noar
Bjf >A Hanoverton.
iJL-jjl. W*i Ohio, October 4,
a-zj" I 1841. He received
V. ■ •IjSKJ a common school
|\ education, but.
i E. ~*~J having a fond
ajfSk sjs>r7jC ness for the study
mat hematics
*/j'if*, .iuff and natural
W science from his
childhood, ac
,jUij-etJ by himself
a knowledge of
; PROFESSOR T. C. MEN- branches
DENHALL, SUPT.
COAST AND OEO- since attained
DETIC SURVEY. note. lie was
first professor of physics and mechanics
; ill Ohio university in 1870-78, and then
went to .Japan us professor of physics in
the Imperial university iu Tokio. In
connection with this appoint ment lie or
ganized the special course of physics,
and also the physical laboratory of the
; science department of tho uuiver.diy. i
He founded a meteorological obsei vat--ry
- in which systematic observations were
made during his residence in Japan, an i
; afterward uutil it was merged iu.o tlio
I general meteorological system that lias
since been established by the imperial
! government. Ho made a seri-s of elab
orate measiii'oiunnts of tho wave-lengths
Q- tne principn! Fimienhofer linos of the
j solar spectrum by means of a large spec
j u - ue.er, which, at the time of its oou
' Struction, was 0110 of the most perfect in
5 existence.
! lie became interested in earthquake
phenomena while in Japan, and was one
of tho founders of the ieisiuological
I society of Tokio. In 1881 he leturned
to the United States and resumed his
clia cat Ohio state university. Ho or
i. u zed the Ohio state weather service
in JBB2, was its director uutil 1881, and
was the first to devise ana put into opor
, iition a system of weather-signals for
i display on railroad trains. This method
became general throughout the Hinted
states and Canada, and continued to he
employed until tho introduction in 1887
of a new code by the chief signal officer.
In 1884 he became professor in the
'.'nited States signal service, and was
dinged with Mm organization ami equip
e'nt of a phv-icai labor-,tory in con
nection with the bureau iu Washington,
with the In.reduction of a systematic
| observation of atmospheric electricity,
and with tho investigation of methods of
• •■let mining ground tempera! nros. He
. i- the lirst to estabiisii stations iu the
nited Bia.es for the systematic obser
aliens of earthquake pheiiomci o lin-
I mediately after tho Charle tou eart'i
oeike, on the list of Angus., 188 IS, he
visited that city und made a repor. upon
| til- agitation, with a co-seismic chart of
the disturbed area. In 1880 he resigned
- from the government service to a -,-ept
the presidency of Hose Polytechnic in
stitute, Torre Haute, Ind. Professor
Mendenhall has lectured extensively
throughout tho United States on sub
jects that rolato lo physics, ana iu Japan
gave public lectures on scientific sub
jects to genoral audiences in the temples
and theaters of tho ci:of Tokio, re
sulting in the establishment oi the first
public lecture-hall in the empire. He
received the degree of l J h. D., from Ohio
university in 1878, and that of LL. U.
from the University of Michigan in 1887.
In JBB7 he was elected to the National
Academy of Sciences, and last year he
was chosen 1 resident of tho American
As-ociatiou for the Advancement of ,
Science.
Kx-Governor Augustus O. Bourn, the '
new consul-general to ltomo, has been j
prominent in business and in polities in
Rhode Island for many years. He was i
j-'-'Viw lj(>l " t,ot " I
,u Hrovidunce, j
VSI and is a graduate ,
W K3 of Brown univer- ]
i fy sity, class of Tib.
(,n is Iu 1864 bo founded !
n j / the National Rul* ,
i oonip 1 ny at ■
A /gaßwjW r Bristol. Mr. j ;
( Bourn served in j
the Providem-e i
horse guards iu j ;
. v o very capacity !
from private to j '
' Houtona nt-col- '
•.*/ XvO' ono 1, and i n i '
'V- 1878 he was lieu- |
tenant-colonel of j
AUGUSTUS O. BOURN, the First Batlul- 1
U. S. CONSUL-GENERAL ion Of Kh o del '
TO ITALY. Island cavalry. 1
He was a member of the siato senate |
from JB7G to I*B-1. He was governor be i
two terms, from i*' ! to 188(1, receiving | \
at the second ►.-• ■'ion tho largest mujo;- i
ity ever reemvofi by a Republican gov- |
ernor at a cor seted election.
In 1887 and ifiss ho was again a mem- I
her of the senate, and chosen by the Re- j 1
publican members as then leader. He I
was tho author of tho "Bou.-o Amend- 1
iiient," to tho constitution of Rhode Is- | 1
laud, whereby foreign-born citizens were I 1
admitted to vote upou the sno qualifi- 1
r.i' .ons as American-born citizens. This! 1
aim ndment was adopted in ISBB, anil j
the first election affected was that of | •
lss'.i, when tho Republicans carried the | j
s'.ate. Prior to that a property qualili- ■
cation was required of foreign-born elti- '
zens. Bv this amendment, all American i 1
citizens who have resided in the state ! '
and town the prescribed time can vote, t '
on being registered. No tuxes are re- j '
quired to lie paid as a requisite for vol- ]
iug, but a compulsory tax of *1 i- '"vied '
yearly on all such citizens, whether reg
istered or not, for the support of the
public schools. In the towns, on all !
questions involving an expenditure of :
money, and in tho election of city conn- j
cils, mmo but taxpayers can vote. Gov-1 '
ernor Bourn has traveled extensively. } 1
and is acquainted with French, Spanish, | '
and German, and somewhat with IlaS i !
lan.
' i
Glma TCleet i-oplut**, (
Electroplating of glass and porcelain ♦
lias lieen accomplished by M. Hanson of 1
France. The chief difficulty heretofore 1
bus been to obtain a conducting surface 1
to which tho metal would adhere. The t
patentee uses chloride of gold or plati- i
nttm dissolved iu burphut'io ether, to 1
which sulphur dissolved in some heavy
oil is added. When warm, this com- i
pound is laid on with a brush. The ob- t
ject Is then heated until the sulphur and 1
chlorine is completely volatilized, the <
gold or platinum adhering closely to tha
surface.—Exchange. i
WEIGHTY MATTESB.
In the dim light all evening
; . The poor rocltiug-nhalr
A full double burden
Bad managed lo bear.
And it patiently bore It
I With i itthfuiuesa meek.
Nor betrayed how it fullered
By murmur or aqueak.
But there came from ita deptba I,
In a voice aoft and low;
"Do you think, Harry dear,
I That wo heavier grow?"
"I am sure," he raid, "Laura,
No lighter you've grown."
"Ami I think," ahe said elyly,
"You r 'eholdlng your own.' "
—Chicago Tribune,
SNUBBED.
• rjl THINK he was very lm
/ pertinent, and he ought to
; V (JB)', be snublied !" and Miss
jgßk/ jf Nettie Archer, aged IU,
ff J drew her graceful lig-
V—£ .§ "re up to a straight line,
4 UIl( l lifted her head up an
' J\ inch higher.
" -k "My dear Nettie!" said
Miss Ileum Archer, aged 56, in a
tone of remonstrance, "what a very vul
gar expression!"
"Snubbed? Oh, no; everybody un
derstands it. and it expresses just what I
mean. Tho next timo we meet Mr. Sid
ney Barclay, I shall most certainly snub
j him," with a strong emphasis upou the
| objectionable word.
I "I thought ho was very polite," said
; Miss Helen. "What should wo have
done without iiis help, stuck in a horrid
hole, and tho ponies just prancing and
rearing, and not really pulliim at all.
We might have been there tili now."
"Oil, some one else woulil have passed,
auntie! 1 don't deny that he was very
useful, and very polite, as you say. But
lie had no business to—" and hero .Miss
Nettie paused abruptly, walked to the
oilier enil of tho sitting-room, and struck
up an animated conversation with tho
canary.
Mr. Barclay had certainly asked permis
sion to call, after giving his card to Miss
Helen, but he need nothavo been in such
a hurry, Nettie thought, as u glimpse of
his tall figure coining up tho garden walk
interrupted her remarks.
Vet, she considered, what was she go
ing to say? .She could not tell her aunt
that her Indignation was caused by a look
of devotion and admiration, perfectly re
spectful, yet certainly startling, after an
acquaintance of less "than half an hour.
She was still absorbed in contempla
tion of the canary when Mr. Barclay on
tored the room, and spoke to her aunt.
If he saw lier, lie took no notice of her,
making courteous inquiries as to Miss
Helen's state of health after tho annoy
ing interruption to her drive tho previous
day, commenting upon the weather, ad
miring the display of roses in lront of
eo'.tage, and seemingly oblivious of
everything but tho latly in tho armchair
at the front window.
Tho room was not a very large one, but j
Nettie stood in a bow window at the I
other end, lace curtains vailinghor, with- J
out really concealing her. She had not i
spoken since Mr. Barclay ontered, but |
gradually an amazed wrath rose in her |
bosom. She was not accustomed to be I
ignored entirely. Miss Helen, placidly j
working insane devices upon crazy patch- |
work, caught a glimpse of the rising I
color and indignant eyes, and had a mis- I
eiiievous enjoyment of them. Mr. Bar- i
eiuy was a line-looking man of five
or six - and - twenty, a gentleman in
every word and movement, and it must, |
be admitted that, as a rule, Miss Helen |
M'.is not, when her niece was present, |
u-ually the recipient of all the attention 1
of such a visitor.
The gentleman himself was not so un- !
conscious of Unit veiled figure in the bow
window as ho appeared to be. Moss
daie. tlio little duster of cottages two
miles from the small village of Avon,
was not a fashionable resort. New
Yorkers and Brooklynites had not dis
covered it; summer boarders iiad not in
vaded it. The cottages were owned by
women, as a rule—farmers' widows who
had left the farms to sons or son.s-in
law, and lived iu modestcoiufort iu these
tiny homes. Sidney Barclay liau drifted ,
there to rest after a winter of hard, con
scientious work in tho law courts of
New York, whore he acted as junior
partner to his father, a well-known law
yer. Ho was beginning to weary of the
utter stagnation und seclusion of Moss
dulo. not being uu enthusiast about na
ture's beauties, and he wus startled into
wondering animation by the vision of
the low pony phaeton, witn two ladies |
therein seated, whose costumes spoke i
plainly of Now York and hinted at Fans. !
The first pleasing shock of surprise was
followed by one .of vivid admiration for a
luce and figure far above the average of
merely pretty girls and oestasy suc
ceeded when the ponies suddenly be
came freakish, drew the phaeton into a
deep rut and refused to draw it out again,
yuie.k, courteous service could not bo re- i
fused, and each recognizing the other as !
a member of that educated class that
constitutes American aristocracy, the
three were soon iu animated conversa
tion, tho ponios trotting meekly along
under masculine porsuusion.and the gen
tleman walking beside the phaeton, "to
be sure they readied home safely."
The mean little cottage wus another
surprise, having been furnished by
Aicher pere for his sisters use during
tlio summer, and the visitor was so ear- j
ried away by delight und amazement j
that he forgot the brevity of tlie ac
quaintance until that one look that
rankled in Nettle's mind called forth such
a quick, indignant flush, such a haughty
up-ltfting of the small, dainty head, as
recalled his scattered senses.
He was ou his guard again, whan Miss
Helen, by an appeal to Nettie's memory,
forced her to leave her lemporary shel
ter, and advanced to greet tho now cool,
self-possessed young lawyer. Perfect
courtesy, cold as ice, was in his exchange
of greoiing; and once more Nettie's
quick, impulsive nature was stuug by the
abseneo (M any sign of tho admiration '
too manifest tho day before.
Piqued, she allowed herself to thaw, j
then to try to waken fresh interest;
never descending U> any coquetry, but '
lotting her natural vivacity, hor quick in
telloct, have full play. Tho power of !
conversing, drawing out tho best of her '
companion*, answering with quick com
prehension, yet never absorbing the
tulk, that is so often an art acquired by
long study and practice, was Noltie's <
natural gift. Without insincerity she
could take deep interest in all passing <
events, all chunc* acquaintances. For <
the hour, each one was the neuter of her
thoughts, aud there was such a delicate
italtery in her hank botrayal of this in- i
teiest that Nettle Archer WBJJ unani
mously voted as charming ae she was <
beautiful. I
Sidney Barclay felt all his defences
giving way. He once more forgot that :
two days ago he hud never even heard of I
Miss Archer, aud Ids big. dark eyes be- I
came again quite too eloquent. 1
When he took his leave, patbetlca'iy '
implored by Aunt Helen to take pity urn 1
their loneliness whenover he had a leis
ure hour, that lady's eyes twinkled
maliciously.
•'I owe you an apology for misunder
standing you this morning, dear," she
said, demurely. "I did not quite fcont
prehend what you meant by the word,
' snub.'"
And Nettie, her already brilliant roses
deepened in hue, made a rapid exit.
"H'm!"Miss Helen murmured ; "the
son of my old friend, Margaret Barclay;
his lather's partner—h'rn! I don't see
that Julius can object to un acquaint
ance."
Julius being Nettie's father, was very
particular about the individuals intro
duced to his only child, the most precious
of his many possessions.
"But next time I will snub him 1"
thought Nellie, robelliously. " Aunt
Helen must have seen that he was snub
bing me. That could not bo endured."
For two days Mr. bidney Barclay forced
( himself to keep away from the pretty
( cottage. On the third ho found it in dir.-
confusion. In the narrow hallways pack
ing-boxes, trunks, bales of carpets—al
the signs of a breaking up. In the dis
mantled parlor, Miss Helen, weeping
profusely.
"My brother," she sobbed, in answer
to his sympathetic inquiry, "was thrown
from his carriage yqsterday, but I hud to
arrange for leaving her."
"Will you make me useful?" .Sydney
said with such evident sincerity". Hint
Miss Helen accepted the offer u,
once.
useful lie cortainly was. Baggage
was out on carts summoned by him, and
sunt to the station where tho servant
had failed to secure any conveyance. Ttm
household obeyed his prompt order.-,
system sprang out of the confused hurry -
iug nere and there, and Miss Helen found
herself with half an hour's time leli
quiet before lior young assistant cum •
from a hurried run to his own boarding
house to insist upon escorting her to
the city.
Trouble will hasten friendship far
more rapidly than prosperity, and by im
perceptible degrees Nettie found herself
leaning upon Sidney Barclay, with a
comforting sense of his perfectly relia
ble judgment and sympathy. The in
valid watched for him after the first day
when lie offered service, and was thank
fully made most useful. Day after dav
of the long vacation he hud intended to
j ; ass in the country, found him in the
,-ick i/juni, chatting with the injure.t
ruuu, gently lifting him, bringing him
I toe gossip of the hour and followed i-r
No' tie's grateful eyes in eveiv move
ment-.
To each of tho four the oddity of the
situation often recurred, with a'wonder
| tha so recent an acquaintance had so
quickly become one of themselves; be
the fact remained tliut out of their lar.,-
circle of friends not one was on th- suite
intimate footing. Mostof their relative
and close friends wore away for summer
! pleasuring, and there was no one like
i Sidney Barclay.
H this Nettle assured herself again
| and again as her idolized father crept
| slowly back to health and strength, and
j never wearied of singing the praises of
i his patient companion. For while these
j two, so strangely thrown together, were
i realizing that separation would mean
J weary pain, that the hours spent in 010-e
I intercourse rolled by on rosy cloud?
! they wore apparently absorbed only in
I their duties to the Invalid. But when
the opening of tho law courts callod Ssiu
] ney Barclay back to his professional du
' ties, Julius Archer was not the only one
who mourned for his less frequent visits,
i missed his voice, hungered for the hours
of leisure that would bring him. But
; not until the doctor's iinperuLive order
lor Mr. Archer threatened a long sepa
-1 ration did Sydney Barclay speak th
hope that had become strongest in I.
| heart.
"Florida, before the first frost!" tne
physiciau- said, and Nettie's heart grew
cold and heavy. Florida! And for iii>-
whole long winter! A separuion of
months from one who had won his way
to the warm, girlish heart, and wouli.
not be driven out!
She had been out to attend to some
shopping connected with tho contem
plated journey, and being detained, wa
hurrying to her father's room on her re
turn, when Miss Helen mot her on the
•stairs.
•'Don't go up Just this minute, dear,"
she said. "Mr. Barclay has asked for a
private conversation with your father.
Now, Nettie, you will have a glorious
opportunity to fulfill tho threat you
made last summer, and snub this pre
sumptuous young man."
But an hour later she said :
"I suppose, then, dear, you are post
poning tiiis snubbing until after tin
wedding?"
And Nettie could only blush, laugh,
and amidst many caresses, whisper:
"Never toil lain, that's a darling !"
And Aunt Helen promised she never
would.—N. Y. Ledger.
Mr*. Cliumherluiu'rt I'.ijmlnilt j'.
(Vrtainly Mrs. Joseph Chamberlain Is
the most popular woman the United
States has yet sent to England ; and this
fact is auothor leather for Massachusetts
cap. Charming as Lady BuMoi, ,
< nut-chill is, and attractive as is Lady
MuudeviUe. neither of these ladies made
such an instuntauoous success as did
Mrs. Chamberlain. Every one with whom
-mi has been brought in contact, from
uor majesty tho uueeu down, lias been
made captive by the Furltan bride. Her
mannoi's are perfect, and her bearing is
like that of a duchess.
Mr. Chamberlain is proud and liappy in
her success, and even tho fact th. t :
bride has to chaporonc the Misses cham
berlain, the elder of whom is the senior
of her mother-in-law, has not brought a
cloud into the sky. She dresses in per
fect l aste, so thai even her rivals cap
find no fault with her.
The duchess of Marlborough, owing
to the unpopularby of her husband, mis
not hud really a fair chance, although
she could not hope, at the best, o \ie
with Mrs. Chamberlain. In spite of re
ports to the contrary, the American
duchess is said by her intimate friends
to be exceedingly liappv. She has a
great name, a pniud position, and lias
been received by those who no longer
irare to know her husband. The duse
himself is an interesting, entertaining
and even brilliant man, and their home
life is a happy one.—Boston Gazette.
.luNtlce Mauls'* Way of Putting It.
"Do you know what an oath is, m.v
child?" "Ves, sir; I am obliged to toil
the truth." "And if you always toll the
truth where will you go to when you
die?" "Up to heaven sir." "And what
will will become of you If you tell lies?"
"I shall go down to tho nuiightv place,
sir." "Are you quite sure of mat,:"
"Yes, sir; quite sure." "Let her bo
sworn. It is quite clear she knows a
great deal more about it than I do."
A witness once said to him : "My lord,
you may boliuva me or not, but I have
told the truth and I have been wedded to
truth from my Infancy." "Yes, sir,"
said Maule, "but tho question Is. how
long have you been a widower."—Mr.
Sergeant Robinson, in Bench and Bar.