BeHéfonte, Pa., Jan. 6, 1893. Regret. "I've been setter’ here all evenin’ a cryin’ to myself Over a little-soiled book from off the garret shelf. It's been twenty years an’ over sence I hev seed the book And to-night:I felt 80 lonely I thought I I'd go an’ look. ‘Fer it. Fer somehow all these years I've han- ker'd: ferithe book, A layen’ there so lonely like in that deserted | nook. ; But I couldn’t trust my feelin’s, and soI let it 1 . All diy onthe garret shelf until this very day. ; You seeit b'longed to little Tom, who died long ars: It es oes 43 but yesterday, though time does drag so slow; 1 almost see his little head bendin’ over the book, J ; 7 Lookin’ at the picters in it as children like to look. I almost hear his little voice ring out in mer- Ty glee ; As he'd find a purty pictur and tell uv it tome, An’ his clusterin’ sunny curls jes’ techin’ uv . the book, ; While he looked at the picters as children like to look. I could stan’ the losin’ uv him, though time does drag so slow, Ef it was not fer what I done more’'n twenty years ago; Twas one brilln’ day in summer an’ I'd been working hard, . Fos ‘Ben a bakin’, an’ a washin’,an’ a weedin’ in the yard : When little Tom came a runnin’, a holden’ up the book, Saying: See this picter, mother, Oh, mother! please dolook ! But I wnz warm an’ awful tired, an’ stead of looking to see, : I turn’d aroun’ an’ slap'd the child, an’ cried: Quit botherin’ me! An’ I kin see the griev’d look yit come to his little eyes, 3 But how shoid I know baby Tom wuz ripening fer the gkies ? An’ that day was the very last he ever teched the book, He went an’ put it on the shelf with such a sorry look. An’ that night he wuz taken sick, an’ all the time he'd say: “Oh, mother, I won't bother you, I'll take my book away.” : An’ all adown these twenty years I've heard his sweet voice say : I hear it durin’ all the day, I hear itall the ni It a with every soun’, it comes with every sight, An’ when I’m settin’ here alone, an’ mem’ries ~roun’ me crowd, An’ the cloek ticks so lonesome like, an’ ~soun’sall seem so loud. Then plain I see the little face, so dimpl’d goft an’ fair; The big blue eyes brim full of tears, the curly yaller hair, An’ the little voice draws nearer, go plain it seems to say : “Oh, mother. .I won't bother you. I'll take my book away.” Maley Bainbridge Crist in Cincinnati Tnguirer. THE SECOND MRS. HERON, When a man marries for the second time at the mature age of fifty-six he is bound to expect adverse criticisins and mnkind copjectures. Having loved his first wife as dearly as though she had been, not only by law, but indeed my very sister,! I was the more inclined to resent my brother's unfaithful forget- fulness of her memory within two years of her death; and I should not have countenanced the new regime he had established at Heron’s Court by my presence theme this Christmastide, if it had not been tor the sincere love and sympathy I felt for his only daughter, my niece Mary the sweetest woman who e’er drew breath, and therefore the more likely to be imposed upon and to be ousted frem her proper place in her father’s house and affections. I confess that I started on my jour- ney. imbued with an uncompromising . spirit of opposition to the changs I foresaw I should encounter, and a jeal- ous dislike of the young woman who had: been content to marry a man treb- le her own age “for his money and a home. It did mot escape my notice when I reached my journey’s end that the carriage whieh met we at the sta- tion was a newer and smarter equipage than had formerly been deemed suffi- cient for the purpose; and [saw at: once .when I arrived there that the house had been thoroughly “done up,” | though, to my mind, it had needed neither.decorations nor improvements. The servants assembled in the hall were certainly more gorgeously appar- .elled than their former mistress would have considered fitting, and even in a cursory glance I could see that the «whole mecage was eonducted on a .grander and consequently more expen- sive scale. “There ie no fool like an old fool,” I muttered:to myself as/I was led across the hall towards the drawing room, where my hestess was said to be await- ing my arrival; but at the same time I must admit that I felt a burning curi- .o08ity to see the second Mrs. Heron. For a moment only as I was ushered in there was a pretty picture of a slim- waisted, golden haired girl bending over the fire to see something by its flames; then whatever she had been holding was thrust hastily beneath a sofa cushion, and smy new sister-in-law came running towards me, and before 1 could prevent it had kissed me warm- ly on both cheeks. 4] am 80 glad you have. come at ast. It has been my one trouble that [ have not seen and known you before. The others—we have some people staying here for Christmas—are all out skat- ing, or in the coverts, but Mary was coming back in time to meet you. She is eure to be kere soon.” Then, still talking, she drew me to the fire and pulled off my gloves, while I, a little confused by this unexpectedly cordial grecting, could only submit to it in ei- lence, with good grace. Her soft, caressing tones might have won over anybody less determinedly prejudiced against her at the very out- set; but as a wealthy, childless widow, I was accustomed to flattering recep- tions, and the more determined to prove to my amiable assailant that I was not easily hoodwinked. “Yes, I am tired and cold, and it is a long journey,” I assented a little im- patiently to her questions ; and with the intention of discovering what it was that she had concealed so hurried- ly when I came in—the photograph ot an old lover, a'letter, or forbidden fruit in the shape of a French novel —I sank on to the sofa, and with deliberate awkwardness managed to overture: the sofa-cashions as I did so. After all, it was a very harmless se- cret. A ball ofbrown worsted, four knitting needles, and something bard and shapeless that no doubt she flatter- ed herself would ultimately become sufficiently like a stocking to be includ- ed in her charitable Christmas gitts. It is for Christopher,” said Christo- pher’s wife, with a deep blush. “ am makinghim six pairs as a surprise, so you must not metion it I knitted him a pair before shooting, and he said they were more comfortable than any- thing that he could buy.” From which I argued that my broth- er was even more deeply in love than I had supposed. But I forboreto put her out of conceit with her handiwork. In spite of myself, I was solten- ing towards her. She was such a child ; so winsomely pretty. Vain, of course, Her picturesque purpie sa- tin trock, with soft lace frills falling round her throat and at her elbows, the purple velvet ribbon in her golden hair, and the violets, which harmoniz- ed in hue with her dark eyes, tucked carelessly in her broad sash, all testi- fied to that, and gave her husband a sufficiently fair excuse for his incon- stancy to his first wife. Half ashamed of my suspicions, and feeling a little foolish because I had failed to justify them at once, I was in- clined to go to an opposite extreme and believe that Mrs. Heron was only a pretty simpleton, not a rusee schemer. Yet I could not help being touched by her shy, conciliatory advances, and in- sensibly relaxed my grim demeanor. When she began to talk of Christopher I allowed myself to be led on to remin- iscences of our youth together, becom- ing the more expansive on the subject asd saw my listener was more than in- terested in everything I'told her. There were tears in her eyes once, I knew that, though she kept them covered by her downcast lids, for the little white fingers bungled over the rough work she had taken up and made it tighter and more uneven than it might other- wise have been. Presently, when I ceased to speak, she took up the parable and told me how she had met her husband first, How two years ago she came down here as Mary's friend, and what a dif- ferent house it had been then, so quiet almost lonely for the first Mrs. Heron had been an invalid for some time, and be,Christopher, had given up every- thing for her. She had felt very sorry for him. All his splendid talents seemed so wasted on that humdrum ex- istence cut oft from all his friends, and when Mary was away thrown entirely .on his wife's companionship. “¥er, I know how good and sweet she was,” added the girl, hastily, as though afraid ofseeming to depreciate ‘her predecessor ; “but she was not clev- eer ;.one could not help seeing that in- tellectually she was not his equal, and she was old—and ill 2 “She was as old pher—no older,” I amazement. “But then he is so young at heart. A man is always comparatively younger than a woman at the same age He has never confessed it even to me —he is so loyal—but I'’know he must have felt that he was rust,ing that life under such conditions was stagnation.” It had been my firm impression that no more devoted, no happier couple existed that my brother and his first wife. I bad believed that her loss would have been his own death-blow. Inthis last surmise, however, I was patently proved wrong, and who knows but that [ had mistaken. what was purely eonscientious care for more ten- der ministrations ? Madeline had aged terribly during herlong illness be- fore she died ; she had never been good looking, while my brother was accounted one of the handsomest men of his day, and, besides this, was held in high esteem as a good sportsman and a scholar. My new sister-in-law did not seem to notice my puzzled, half offended silence Her work had dropped trom ber fingers and they were tightly interwined as she gazed dreamily into the fire. She was 80 young that confidences were possibly a habit ; or perhapsiit was be- cause she was giving vent to her feel- ings for the first time that they carried her away with them, leaving her no time to consider whether it were dis- creet or in the best taste to make them known even to her husband’s sister. There are moments in all our lives when the conventionalities are forgot- ten or ignored. I believe that Ada Heron was then quite oblivious of the fact that we were utter strangers, and that iotents land purposes she was unaware of my existence even, a8 in a low, rapt voice she went on speaking, as though to herself, of how she meant to devote her whole being to her husband’s happinesss, and how the foture wae to richly eompensate him for the dull and uneventful past. Al- ready new interests were brightening his life, He had been invited to stand for the county at the nex¢ election, and she had persuaded him to finieh a book which he had begun and put aside some years ago, and which was the outcome of a special branch of study. I was about to remind her that my brother was no longer young enough to start a new laborious career, when sounds of footsteps and voices were heard outside, and my niece Mary Heron came running in at the same moment that Christopher with several companions came back from his day’s shooting. While greetings were ex- changed, tea was taken in the hall, where presently the skating partv join- ed us; and during the general conver- sation that ensued, to the a ccompani- ment of a cheery clattering of cups and saucers, I had leisure to look round and note how matters stood at Heron's Court. Looking at the master of the house, es Christo- interpolated in I could not but admit the truth of his young wife's assertion that a man’s age cannot be judged by actual years. Broad-shouldered and above the med- jum height, with strong features and kindly keen blue eyes, Christopher was noticeable among the men who stood around him. Although senior to most ot them, and to some by many years, in his rough tweed coat and knicker- bockers and bespattered gaiters he looked as stalwart and as strong as any there ; by the flattering lamplight you could scarcely see that his thick hair and moustachtes were plentifully streak- ed with silver gray. His manner to- wards his wife was perfect ; not luxur- jously fond, but quietly attentive to her wants, and evidently taking pleas- ure in the admiring interest she ex- cited in her guests. What surprised me most was that Mary who had such cause to feel aggrieved and jealous of her supplanter, was the first to do her honor. It was she who while never disputing her position there as hostess, was always py her side to lend her un- obtrusive aid, and showed her such un- mistakable affection that no cone could imagine for a moment that there was any feeling of bitterness between them. Later on, when Mary followed me into my bedroom I told her plainly my opinion in answer to her inquiry what I thought of Ada, if I admired her. “There is somebody I admire much more—yourself.” “Me?” What for?” she asked, in undisguised surprise, for Mary had passed her first youth, and like her mother, though lovable and sweet, was not in the least pretty. “For your generosity, and—and folly. Anybody else would be jealous of that child. You have a right to feel aggrieved —"' But Mary stopped me with a gesture and a strangely penetrating glancethat seemed to doubt If I were speaking as I really felt. “I? Oh poor Ada,” as she said softly, and with inflnite compassion, that seemed to me quite out of place ; and the reply, striking me also with a sense of having been rebuked, effect ually changed the current of the con- versation. A very gay house party had assem- bled at Heron’s Court. The never- ceasing merriment and movement wearied me, for I had not been accus- tomed to such stirring scenes; but Ada was in her element, ad though there were several pretty, vivacious women among her guests, not one could hold a candle to her. She was like some airy fairy spirit flitting bere and there, everywhere, at once, diffusing brightness always as she went. I nev- ersaw her again in the mood I found her alone on the day of my arrival. Her lovely brilliant face, with its smil- ing violet eyes and sweet curved mouth, ceemed as if incapable of deeper feelings ; her silvery laughter seemed far removed from tears. From morn- ing until night she was the life and soul of the whole party. Even Christ opher, who was by nature grave, be- came infected by her fun, and joined in all the pleasures she proposed. I believe he overtaxed his strength in doing so, tor often a tired, gray look crept across his face that would have aroused my sympathy if I had not been so bitter still against him. At my age it was natural 1 should feel so keenly for the woman who had lost her youth and life while loving him. It was only human nature that [ should find a certain satisfaction in the, knowledge that the fruithe found so fair should sometimes turn to dust and ashes in his mouth. It was difficult to find him alone in these new days of gaiety and social turmoil ; but I had determined it was | my duty to speak to him for Marys sake, and because of the love that had borne her dear dead mother, so one moring I followed him into his study, resolved on taking him to task on several counts. “You never told me your wife was a ‘beauty, Christopher,” I began, as a preliminary compliment of warfare. “That is the least of her attractions, don’t you think ?” he replied, with a grave smile. 40h! she is everything that is charming, I admit. Beauty youth, and wit—no man could well hope for more. You are a very lucky fellow Christo- pher, of coure.” He smiled still, but made no attempt to.answer my tart, satrical congratula- tion. Never a man of many words, I did not expect him to wax eloquent up- on the subject of his happiness, more especially to one whe was avowedly unsympathetic. Yet I should have liked him to hare told me his version of the love-story which had taken ev- eryone who knew him, and who had known Madeline, by surprise. “Naturally I was astonished when I heard of this strange marriage. I thought, if only for Mary’s sake——" “Mary’s interests have not suffered. Be sure of that.” “I am quite sure you would not de- liberately wrong her ; but your second marriage must make a difference to her prospects. I should be blind, n- deed, if I did not see that the expendi- ture here now is nearly double what it used to be, and—-" “There is something else, Ellen, you evidently have not heard. My wife is not only a beauty, but a great heiress. I thought you must know that.” “Then why,” I broke out, quite re- gordless of good manners—*“why— ?” “Why did she marry me?’ he fin- ished for me with imperturable good humor. “Ah now you have hit upon the mystery which passes my poor powers of golution. It can only be, as you have said, that I am such ‘a very lucky fellow.’ ” He laughed outright, for I was still | open-mouthed in my unflattering sur- prise that an heiress and a beauty, who might have married anybody, should have chosen to become the second wife The Niearagua Canal. Some Facts and Figures on this Great Project. —The Need of a Short Water Route From Ocean to Ocean—DMilitary and Commercial Advantages. The committee appointed by the na- tional Nicaragua canal convention at its meeting in St. Louis, June 2nd and 8d, to prepare an address to the American people giving information as to the feasibility of the Nicaragua canal and its commercial and other advantages to the United States, has just finished the preparation of such address. The com- mittee is composed ot John S. Jones, of Arkansas; ex-Congressman Converse, of Ohio ; R. W. Millsap, the prominent banker of Mississippt; Capt. J. F. Mer- ry, of Manchester, Iowa ; S. H. Hawk- in, the railroad president, of Georgia ; Capt. Ambrose Snow, president of the New York board of trade and transpor- tation, and ex-Gov. John S. Pillsbury, of Minnesota. The address issupplementary to the resolution adopted by the St. Louis con- vention, which pointed out the advan- tages of the canal and urged its con- struction, ownership and control by the American people rather than the Eng- lish, French or any other nation. Lt takes the position that a canal, joining the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, should liver fruit from California in ten days, to Liverpool in fourteen days and to New Orleans in eight days. The moun- tains of the Pacific coast arerich in lead copper, silver and gold, while the pla- teaux and valleys afford a cereal belt with a soil more durable, and more fa- vorable seasons for seeding and harvest- ing than any part of the world, and the committee thinks the completion of the Nicaragua canal is only needed to de- velop that country to production of gi- gantic proportions and double the pop- ulation of the Pacific coast in a few years. The cotton growing sections of the gulf states have under gone a de- pression, and the committee believes that nothing could be of greater imme- diate advantage thanithe canal in re- | lieving that depression, and making a! a market for American cotton in Japan, | China, and Corea, where already the people are beginning to manufacture | cotton goods by machinery. Japan i ported over 7,000,000 pounds of Amer- ican cotton in 1891, most of which was shipped from New York and then by rail to Vancouver and steamship to Japan. At present the coal trade of South America and the Pacific coast is mon- opolized by the English. The commit tee thinks that if the Nicaragua canal were opened the Alabama and West complied with the canal crant, which provided that $2,000,000 must be ex- pended the first year. It is shown thag the amount of mongy spent to date on the enterprise is over $t,000,000. The enterprise is endorsed by the leading business men of the covanury, and that it will be judiciously and economically managed 1s assured by the character of the board of directors, who by the char- ter of the company, are accountable to the government of the United States. The secretary of interior has the power to make public all the details of the eor- porate management, thus protecting the investor against misuse of his money. The Suez canal, it is shown, saves on- ly 8,600 miles around the Cape of Good Hope as against over 10,000 miles saved by the Nicaragua canal ; and the follow- ing table shows the number of ships passing through, the net tonnage and and the gross receipts of the Suez canal for six separate yéars : « No. Net. Gross Rec'ts.. Year. Ships. Tonnage (Franes.) teint 488 436,600 4,345,758 1875... 1,494 2009,054 26,430,750 1880. ...2,026 3,057,431 86,490,620 1885... ...3,624 6.335,752 60.057,259 1890... ...3,380 6.853,¢37 88,088,500 1891 4,206 8,699,020 83,421,504. Thetonnage tributary now to the Nie-. aragua canal, and which would pass through after its opening, is over 6,000- 000 tons a year. At $2 per ton, the SANDWICH 18, TR GaPUL = AON