Peavoceaic, Watcha
Bellefonte, Pa., Nov. 2, 1894,
TOWN AND COUNTRY.
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.
Ther's a prejudice allus ’twixt country and
town
Which I wisht in my heart wasent so.
You take city people, just square up and
own,
And theyr mighty good people to know;
And whare’s better people a-livin’ to day,
Than us in the country ? Yit good
As both of us is. we're divorced you might
8
ay 3
And won't compermise when we could.
Now as-nigh into town for yer pap, ef you
please,
Is the what's called the sooburbs. Fer
are
You'll at least ketch a whiff of a breeze and a
sni
Of the breath of wild flowrs ev'rywhare.
They’s room for the children to play, and
KTOW t00-=
And to roll in the grass, er to climb
Up a tree and rob nests, like they ortent to
do,
But they’ll do anyhow ev'ry time!
My son-in-law said when he lived in the
tow
He just natchurly pined, night and day,
Fer a sight of the woods er a acre of ground,
Whare the trees wasent all cleared away.
And he says to me onc’t whilse a-visiting us
On the farm : “It's not strange, I declare,
That we can’t coax you folks without raising
a fuss,
To come to town, visitin’ thare.”
And says I, “Then git back whare you sorto
belong—
And Madaline, toc—and yer three
Little children,” says I, “that don’t know a
bird song.
Ner a hawk from a chicky-dee-dee,
’Git back?” I-says-1 “to the blue of the sky
And the green of the fields, and the shine
Of the sun, with a laugh in yer voice and yer
eye
As J3 erty as mother’s and mine.”
Well--long and short of it—he’s compermis-
ed some—
He’s moved in the sooburds. And now
They don’t haf to coax wnen they want us to
come, /
Cause we turn in and go anyhow.
For thare—well, they’s room fer the song
and perfume
Of the grove and the old orchud ground,
And they’s room fer the children out thare,
and they’s room
Fer ihoyr gran’pap to waller em round.
———————
THE DEAD MAN'S RING.
The Story of Lieutenant Clyde's Strange Ad-
venture in Arizona.
BY EDWARD LIVINGSTON KEYES.
Christmas Day in Arizona. Not
the Arizona of to-day with its rail-
roads, telegraphs and other modern
conveniences, but the old Territory of
twenty-five years ago, when the near-
est railway station lay a thousand
miles and more to the eastward, and
when even “Price's wire’ was a matter
of the fancy. The Arizona whose
copper-colcred denizens turned the
coach in which Loring, Harvard's
former stroke, rode, into his hearse;
who burnt poor Cushing, brother of
the naval hero, and his little escort, in
one of Cochise’s ‘‘hatchways’” in the
Dragoon mountain and who sent a vol-
ley into “Jake” Almy's noble breast
upon the banks of San Carlos.
It is morning and down the narrow
trail of the rough mountain that towers
in its barrenness back of old Fort Reno
come in single file moving objects. The
sage brush and meequit hide from view
those that have already gained the
valley, but a moment later the bronzed
bearded faces and worn blue garments,
not to mention the thimble belts and
carbines, tell us that itis a scouting
party of regular cavalry. It is along
serpentine line this command makes,
and the foremost troopers are swinging
themselves into their saddles in the
valley, while as yet we see the rear
and “packs” picking their way down
the dangerous defile. And dangerous
itis. Three vacancies had been made
in one troop during the past hour by
Indians hurling and rolling rocks and
boulders from high precipices upon
the defenseless men and beasts that
wound along below.
They move out now across the broad
valley, the white alkaline dust rising in
clouds at each motion of the horse's
teet, for the trail is an old one and not
even the cholla cactus, the brush and
the mesquit, which appear to be the
sole products of the valley, encroach
npon the narrow passage which had
been traversed by many a good fellow
for the last time forever.
Though it is December, yet the tem-
perature is anywhere from 100 to 110
degrees ; but, with.the exception of a
very few, these iroopers are accustom-
ed to the climate and no murmur of
complaint escapes them. On the con-
trary, occasional enatches of border
songs break the monotony of the prod
of the horses feet, and a good-natured
joke, with its deserved sequel, a hearty
laugh, is by no means a rarity.
It is doubtful if there was in the en-
tire command a man who had not at
least once since breaking camp remem:
bered the day and contrasted it with
other Christmases in happier lands and
amid fairer scenes, and there was one
young subaltern among them who for
the last hour had done little else. He
was new to the service and it was hig
maiden scout ; and Lieutenant Clyde,
previous to entering upon the duties of
the profession which he had chosen
above all others, had been much of a
dilettante and something of a sybarite;
the roughness of the journey and the
homeliness of his surroundings jarred
upon him. It was hard luck that this
scout chanced to be his first for it was
an unusual and an unnecessarily se
vere trial of both men and animals.
The commanding officer had a fair war
record, but he had quite recently been
transferred to this cavalry regiment ;
his in-experience in this new line pro
voked him and his ambition to make a
“killing” caused him to disregard cer-
tain details, to lose sight of many
things which should not bave escaped
his observation and attention. He had
forbidden the making ot any fires lest
the Indians should see the smoke and
learn the presence of the troops. Con.
sequently three days had now elapsed
since the men had tasted coffee or any-
thing warm, rave alkali water, and it
was well understood they were not to
bivouac until the mountain range con-
fronting them was passed.
But late in the afternoon tke ochre-
colored foothills are reached. But no
halt was made; on they push and at
length we see the head of the column
beginning the ascent of the mammoth
natural parapet with its different color-
ed sections, or strata, showing, as the
scientists tell us, its age as unmistak-
ably as do the ringe on a cow’s horn
and the wrinkles under a horse's
eye.
At this moment Lieutenant Clyde
was suffering from an attack of Melan-
cholia, together with that sense of
nausea we all have known, consequent
upon a long-delayed breakfast. As he
reached the mountain’s base he drew
out of line, dismounted and led his
horse to the mouth of a narrow can-
yon a short distance to the right. It
looked rather cool and it had been his
intention to avail himself of an unli-
censed rest. But this resolve was
abandoned upon the discovery of the
dead body of a man lying in the very
place he in fancy had reserved for him-
self.
Though clothed roughly, as every-
body was in those days in Arizona,
yet there was a refinement about the
well-cut handsome features, a certain
delicacy about the small shapely hands
and bootless feet of the dead man sel-
dom met with in the large army of
miners and prospectors familiar to all
who have lived upon the border.
No trace of the previous presence of
knife or bullet as Clyde drew his hand
over the hunting shirt covering the
body of the handsome sleeper ; not a
mark upon the face or head to show
that he had been one of the many vic-
tims of the Apaches or the target of
of some whiskey selling Greaser. Not
a handkerchief or scrap of paper in his
pocket to breathe his name or whisper
whence he came. That his horse or
mule was missing did not strike Clyde
as peculfar, for the brute naturally
would have wandered off in pursuit of
water. But the utter absence of all
weapons and also of his boots seemed
to imply that the lieutenant was: not
the first visitor to the lonely sleeper, for
in those days men put on their pistols
to go to breakfast, But why was this
peculiar ring left upon the hand thrown
carelessly above his head? Why this
chain and mosaic locket left about his
neck ? To be sure, it did not show
above the tightly-buttoned shirt collar,
but would not the earlier discoverer do
as Clyde had done—open the shirt for
some evidence of identity or for some
sign of the cause of death? He un-
clasped the chain—plainly a woman's
——{rom the manly throat, slipped the
ring off the cold, slender finger and
transferred them to his pocket.
“You look like a gentfeman and I
should like to bury you,” the young
man muttered as be etood there look-
ing down upon the dead. “But the
fact is I have nothing to dig with, and
if [had the coyotes can go down deep-
er in one night than Icouldin a week.
It is queer that they bave spared you
this long, but there is no knowing how
long you have been dead. There is
not the slightest indication of decom-
position, but in this beastly land we
dry up like mummies. In fact the on-
ly rot we know here come to us from
Washington via the Indian Bureau.”
Bang |
The report of an Apache’s rifle ring:
ing out from the opposite wall of the
canon, causing a peculiar singing,
whizzing sound in his ears, brought
Clyde's soliloquy to a sudden termina-
tion.
saddle with far more activity and agil-
ity than he had displayed since he
joined, the lieutenant galloped after his
comrades.
“I shall not mention this little side
scout,’ he muttered, as he caught up
with the pack train, and, when the
trail permitted pressed forward to his
proper place inline. It should be re-
marked that for a youngster Clyde
showed unusual discretion and wisdom
in this resolution, for it was the first
dead man he had seen during his brief
service in Arizona, and besides he had
been shot at. Fancy what might have
been made out of this little adventure
by some who for reasons inexplicable
are allowed to wear the blue.
Quite late at night Pleasant Valley
was reached. Here the Maricopa
scouts that had been several miles in
advance of the command were found
waiting and rather dejected ; they
‘had discovered no sign. The ambi-
tious, well-meaning commandant was
more than a little disgusted, and feel-
ing a large sized vacancy in his own
interior departmen the gave orders that
permitted the building of fires. With
“slap-jacks’” and hot coffee a change
came over the spirits of the troopers
and they decided that the name of the
valley was an appropriate one for that
night's bivouac.
The following morning the Indian
scouts were sent out in different direc-
tions in hopes that a rancheria might
be located or at the least a recent
Apache trail discovered ; the com-
mand was to remain inactive until
their return. This gaye Clyde the op-
portunity he desired and which pre-
viously had not been presented. He
shouldered his rifle, the weapon carried
by all officersin thie field, and strolled
carelessly along the bank of the Ace-
quia.
Satisfying himself that he was be-
yond sight of his comrades, Clyde seat-
ed himself and proceeded to examine
the trinkets he had come upon the day
before. Thering was a large blood:
stone in the shape of a shield, and the
band was made after the fashion of
chain armor, gold and silver alterna-
ting, In the stone was cut a hand,
with the forefinger pointing downward.
Around the edge, in Greek, where the |’
words: “I remember; you forget.”
On the inside, woven into a monogram,
were the capitals L and H. It looked
antique, and it was an odd device, but
intrinsically its value was slight. He
replaced this in his pocket and turned
his attention to the chain and locket.
The former was one of these broad,
oval “snaky’’ gold circlets worn by the
fashionable women of thirty years
ago. The locket was quite large and
And, throwing himself into tbe |
octagonal in shape.
castle in mosaic, with rocks and a lit-
tle stream in the foreground ; its three
pendants were composed of diamonds
and turquoise. The back was formed
by a gold case, upon which was the
word Roma. Opening this Clyde
looked upon the face of a beautiful
young woman painted on porcelain, evi-
dently a portrait. After a long and
critical study of the features Clyde
came to the conclusion that but one
thing was lacking, otherwise the face
and head were perfect—his ideal, in
fact. The coloring was superb and
natural and the expression was fault.
less. At the same time there was
something that left the face souless and
artificial. “It is like a Parian bust
that has been touched up with the
brush. There isno soul in it; the
artist has just missed it,’ mused Clyde,
as he continued to gaze upon it. There
was an aigrette of diamonds peep-
ing from the coil of raven black hair
and a little sparkling chain encircling
the proud, beautifully arched throat.
On the whole it was a rare and costly
jewel to be found beneath the soiled
hunting shirt of a dead Arizona wan-
derer. There could be little doubt
that the poor fellow who wore it had
blessed that glorious face many and
many a time.
One year later by a rare stroke of
fortune Clyde was ordered to New
York on special duty. The ring which
he had never worn while in the land of
the cholla and mesquit now graced his
finger. He was hastening to a restau-
rant to dine, and we find him there a
moment later busily studying the
men. The room was well filled, and
at Clyde's small round table another
man was sitting. As the young cav-
alryman wrote his order the eyes of his
vis-a-vis fell upon the Arizona jewel
and became riveted thereon. The
man flushed and paled ; glanced from
the ring to Clyde, and from Clyde back
to the ring. But this passing panto-
mime was unobserved by the officer
who did not, however, fail to remark
the man’s agitation and nervousness.
The latter was a well-made, fashion
ably dressed man of about forty. His
face was not a pleasant one. The
small, keen gray eyes were rather too
close together, and about the thin, col-
orless lips there lurked an expression
go sinister as to suggest viciousness.
At the same time his nose was of the
shape that has influenced great com-
manders when choosing their general's.
As he arose to leave the table he hesi-
tated a moment as if about to address
Clyde, then, apparently forced against
his desire to do go, suddenly turned
about and left the room.
“These New Yorkers live too fast,
mused Clyde. “A little of our Ari-
zona programme would steady their
nerves amazingly.” With this reflec-
tion the stranger passed out of his
mind and the young man’s attention
was given to his dinaer.
The following day he chanced to
pass his friend, Major Glitten, of the
artillery, in company with the same
man. The two officers made the con-
ventional military recognition, but the
eyes of the civilian were fixed steadily
upon Clyde, who did not fail to observe
the scrutiny.
“Who was that man I saw you with
this morning ?”’ asked Clyde of the
major, as later in the day Glitten stroll-
ed into his office.
“He asked me the same question
respecting yourself the moment you
had passed,” answered the elder officer
pleasantly. “Is it a case of mutual
love at sight ? He is the great stock-
broker, Holmes. You have some cap-
ital and he is just the fellow to help you
—or rain you.”
“On the contrary, I did not like his
face,” responded Clyde. “He sat oppo-
site me at dinner yesterday, and he
eyed me in such a peculiar manner
that I fancied he was either a little off
or else that he thought me a suspicious
character.”
“I know little about him personal-
ly,” replied the major, “beyond the
tact that he is a power on the street
and that he has a lovely wife. By the
way, if you care for society let me in-
troduce you to Swinton. He is a mem-
ber of all the best clubs and an (ait
with everybody and everything.”
A few days later Mr. Swinton, and
Clyde were enjoying a tete-a tete din-
ner at one of the former's clubs in the
city. The dinner was in every way
agreeakle and entertaining to the two
men, who already by that indescrib-
able intuition which one cannot readi-
ly define felt themselves friends. As
they arose to gointo an adjoining room
for their coffee and cigars Clyde to his
astonishment, saw Holmes in evening
dress enter the dining room. Turning
to his friend and making a slight motion
in the direction of Holmes. Clyde said :
“Pray tell me who that man is and
what you know about him ?”
“That's Holmes—Lawrence Holmes,
the stockbroker. I do not fancy him
myself, thongh his wealth and ability
command almost universal admiration.
I have always felt that he was in some
underhand way implicated in poor
Clayton's misfortune, which led to the
latter's disappearance and probably to
his death. However this may be,
Clayton’s whereabouts have been un-
known to his friends ever since the
beautiful Miss Thorpe, to whom it was
understood he was engagaged, gave
him his conge.”
“Do give me the particulars; or the
specifications, as we say in the army,’
responded Clyde, showing much inter-
est.
Swinton assumed a more easeful posi-
tion and then turaing to Clyde be said :
“You surely must have heard of the
great belle of a few years ago. Augusta
Thorpe ?”
Clyde bowed his head and the other
continued :
“She was poesessed of every grace
and charm and naturally had hosts of
admirers and numberless suitors.
Among the latter it is only necessary
to speak of Clayton and Holmes. These
two men, though the autitbeses of one
another, seemed to be her favorites
Its face showed a | from the first.
only was the superior of Clayton—
wealth and sophistry, Clayton was
by far the better man in every way,
and, in time, though it had not been so
announced, it was very generally un-
derstood that he and Miss Thorpe were
engaged. Holmes did not discontinue
his visits, however. On the contrary,
he became even more attentive than
formerly. Strange as it may appear the
rivals continued to be friends.
“This was about the situation when
one evening, as the story goes. Clayton
and Holmes met at a late hour in this
very room. I can give you the story,
but as I was not present at the time you
will be quite at liberty to take it with
the proverbial grain of salt. They sat
down over a bottle of wine and began
chaffing each other pleasantly about
his chances. Each felt confident of suc-
cess. It was a strange, an improper
gubject to discuss within these walls,
but Holmes insists to this day that on-
ly himself and Clayton were present.
If this be a fact, how did the story leak
out ?
“Well, to resume. The night merged
into morning, still the discussion con-
tinued. More than one empty bottle
had been borne away and at length
each seemed to grow conscious of a
feeling of jealousy of the other. The
wine was doing its baneful work.
Holmes taunted Clayton unmercifully,
and the latter, showing some temper,
paid: ‘She has promised to marry me
it I can obtain that ring from you,’
pointing, as he spoke, at his rival's
finger. This was a double shaft at
Holmes, for it appeared that he wore
some queer ring which Miss Thorpe
had repeatedly asked to be allowed to
wear, and which request he had re-
peatedly and consistently declined to
grant, giving as a reason for so doing,
it I remember rightly, that he was su-
perstitious and that he had been warn-
ed never to remove the ring from his
finger. Clayton’s avowal greatly anger-
ed Holmes. He could not, in view of a
very recent and an unusually warm
parting with the lady, believe that she
had made any such promise. But
knowing her great desire to possess the
ring, Clayton's allusion to the jewel
showed thatshe had spoken to his rival
on the subject, and this, perhaps, in
some disdainful way. This flashed
through Holmes’ mind in a moment,
then, jerking the jewel from his finger,
he flung it upon the table, saying :
“¢If she can be bought for a bauble,
permit me to aid you in your purchase.’
With this he left the club and the two
men have never met since. In fact,
none of his acquaintances have heard
of Clayton since the morning of the day
following this episode. Oae day later
Miss Thorpe’s engagement to- Holmes
was announced.’’
“How ‘ very singular!” exclaimed
Clyde. “How do you account for it ?"
“Why attempt to account for that
which from the first appeared inex-
plicable ? I firmly believe that Clayton
told the truth when he made his state-
ment respecting the ring. I also believe
that in a fit of temper Holmes threw
him the jewel. From thisit is natural
to conclude that Clayton lost no time
in bearing the trophy to the woman he
loved —the very being who had offered
him such a rare prize for its possession.
Why she rejected him, how to account
for his sudden disappearance, how to
explain her acceptance of Holmes are
things that I now have little hopes of
learning until I reach that sphere where
all is to be made plain.”
“Do you know Mrs, Holmes ?” ask-
ed Clyde. .
“As Miss Thorpe I knew her quite
well, though I was uvever one of her
slaves. Since this affair I have simply
been civil to her. Clayton was one of
my best friends. He was a capital fel-
low and his disappearance has occa-
sioned me much uneasiness. It would
be some satisfaction to obtain reliable
information of his death, for dead I feel
that he is, and I cannot help but be-
lieve that Holmes and bis wife are in
some treacherous way responsible.”
“How long ago did this occur ?”
asked Clyde, whose generous, sym-
pathetic nature re-echoed the senti-
ments of his friend.
“Let me see,” answered the other.
Then after a few moments of mental
calculation: “Just one year and a half
ago.”
The two men sat and smoked in si
lence. Swinton was recalling Clayton
as he last saw him, handsome, full of
life, prosperous, popular and hopeful.
Clyde was saying mentally. “That was
justabont the time I joined in Arizona.”
Then he spoke. Let us take a good-
night drink to the safe return of your
friend.”
“With all my heart,” was the re-
sponse. “And do not forget, I shall call
for you to-morrow evening to take you
to the Chutneys’ ball.”
Scarcely had the two friends entered
the ball room when Clyde grasped
Swinton’s arm and in a strange voice,
and also in an intensely excited man-
ner, said : “Tell me who that women
is there ? That one! There cannot be
two such throats and necks in the
world I"
“Why, man !” exclaimed Swinton,
“you look as it you had seen a ghost ;
or perbaps one of your Apaches unex-
pectedly,”
“No, no,” impatiently answered the
other. “Not an Apache, bat one that
recalls the tribe vividly to me. Tell me
quick.”
“Of her many conquests in the past
1 can remember none quite so instan-
taneous,” answered Swinton ; then,
catching the expression on his friend's
face, he replied directly : “That is Mrs.
Holmes.”
“Mrs. Holmes ! Mrs. Holmes! Not
the wife of the broker ? Not the woman
of whom you told me last night ?"” ex-
claimed Clyde, exhibiting such increas-
ed excitability that for a moment even
the worldly Swinton was a trifle alarm-
ed.
“My dear fellow,” the latter replied
in low and soothing tones, “pray calm
yourself. You shall know her in a mo-
ment if you wish to.”
“Yes, yes ; she above all others. D>
jresent me at once.”
Holmes in two things |
EL SERIE
“I beg of you not to ask me to offi-
ciate,” responded Swinton in grave
tones. “I fear that I have already lost
one dear friend through that woman,
Do not require me to be the agency by
which I might lose another. But I will
arrange it for you, and at once.”
A moment later Clyde was looking
into the face of the woman who had so
strangely moved him.
“Yes, my lady of the locket,” he
said to himself as his thought went
back to the lonely canon and the dead
stranger. “The same superb throat and
neck, the same divine coloring and
even the little sparkling aigretie, Also
the same absence of nature, the same
lack of soul. Had the artist painted
better than he knew ?”’
When Clyde left the Chutneys that
evening it was with Mrs, Holmes’ per-
mission to call upon her the following
day. Not one word did he say to
Swinton of his suspicion that the lat-
ter's friend, . Clayton, and the dead
Arizona wanderer were one and the
same person. Bat the circumstantial
evidence was too overwhelming to per-
mit of the vestige of a doubt entering
his own mind. The time of Clayton's
disappearance and the {nding of the
body, the peculiar ring, with the ini-
tials L. and H. (Lawrence Holmes),
and above all the locket with its artistic
counterpart of Mrs. * Holmes, might
have convinced a far:less credulous
person than Clyde.
On going to his rooms the following
day to dress for dinner Swinton was
more than astonished to find there a
brief note from Clyde informing him
that the latter, at his own request, had
received permission by wire from Wash-
ington to at once rejoin his regiment
in Arizona.
Perplexing, inzxplicable as this bit
of news was to him, yet it was quite
absorbed in the intelligence received
later the same evening of the sudden
death of Mrs, Holmes,
Weeks later there came to him a
letter from Arizona, which gave him
every particular,
With the confidence that Mrs. Holmes
was the woman who had sent the friend
of his friend into exile and oblivion,
Clyde had called vpon her the moro-
ing after the ball. He was not unmind-
ful of her regal bearing,and her superb,
matchless beauty. Oa the contrary,
he was fascinated, charmed. At the
same time he never for one moment
forgot nor forgaye that missing some-
thing ; the absence of which made it
impossible that she should awake in
him that warmer feeling she had so
easily aroused in others.
They chatted of the ball, of the
books, the music and the flowers popu-
lar at that period ; she most of the time
thinking how different he was from
other men whom she had known, and
he engrossed with the idea.that she was
little better than a female Franken-
stein, a modern Medusa. Then he art-
fully swerved the current of the con-
versation and made the Euman heart,
its duties, requirements and possibili-
ties the subject. Hereupon they failed
to agree. Her view: were too abnormal,
too inhuman in fact to meet the ap-
proval of the severe, matter-of-ract
young officer. He held her to be un-
sympathetic, unfeeling.
But Clyde's whole soul was in his
subject ; he argued his cause well, and
sent shaft after shaft into the breast of
the woman before him who little
dreamed of the brief, or facts, in the
pcssession of her opponent. But she
gave no outward sign that she had
been touched by the force of his logic.
In fact, her every response confirmed
him in his belief of her utter callous-
ness, Her theory seemed to be that
matters relative to the affections should
not be regarded nor treated seriously.
She even went further and gave it as
her opinion, based upon experience and
observation, that love was but a pass-
ing fancy, and she challenged Clyde to
point to a single instance in real life
where 1t had proved lasting after a
brief absence or where it had been so
sincere that the loss of it led to despair
or death.
This was the opportunity he wished.
Without mentioning their proper names
he selected herself and the dead Clay-
ton for his characters in the life drama
which be pictured so faithfully that
even his listener was conscious of a
feeling not precisely similar to any she
had heretofore experienced. Not one
incident, not a point that strengthened
his position was lost sightof; not a
detail that was not well and thorough-
ly developed. The dead man under
the mesquit tree in the lonely canyon
might not have been more graphically
presented had the scene been spread
upon canvas before her.
At its conclusion she made a motion
indicative of unrest. Was she endeavor-
ing to shake off the emotion his story
had provoked? This action, together
with her repeated acsertions that no
living being ever died of & broken heart
or of despair, impelled Clyde to act
promptly. He drew the locket from his
pocket and placivg it in her lap said :
“Permit me to convince you to the con-
trary. I found this on the neck of the
dead man whose story you have just
listened to.”
She raised the jewel and there was a
perceptible tremble of her hand as she
opened it and gazed upon her own face.
An instant later an expression denot-
ing acute pain over-spread her coun-
tenance. The hand holding the locket
tightened its clasp and with a spasmo-
dic movement was pressed hard against
her heart. Clyde watched her intently.
A moment later he saw the beautitul
eves soften, he saw a heavenly expres-
sion steal into the ripe full lips and
over the exquisite tace.
“Ah, now she is perfect,” he ex-
claimed mentally. ‘‘All that was lack-
ing is now found. Oh, how beautiful !
One may see now that she has a soul,
a spirit.”
But he erred. The moment that he
spoke that spirit left ber body.
Of course, to neither Clyde nor Swin-
ton was the mystery ever fully explain-
ed. They could only guess that after
Clayton had received the ring from
Holmes Miss Thorpe had scornfully
upbraided him for seeking to win her
by taking her words literally and had
owned to him her love for his rival.
Driven frantic by this reception Clay-
ton probably hurried away to become
a despairing wanderer, while Miss
Thorpe, after marrying Holmes, dis-
covered that the power he exercised
over her was not real love. That
Holmes did not reclaim his ring, which
he must have recognized, trom Clyde,
was only to be accounted for on the
theory that he was aware of the loss
of his wife's affection, and feared to
make any case of the ring at all lest
the memory of Clayton should in some
way be aroused by it. Which happen-
ed, in spite of him.
——Republicans are boasting that
they are going to carry the county next
Tuesday. This boastshould put every
A fall
ocratic vote will snow them under to an
Democrat on his metal. Dem-
extent they little dream of. Democrats,
let us give them a dose of old-fashioned
Democracy and show them that we still
have a pride in the principles that we
believe in. We can do this by arrang-
ing to bave out every Democratic vote.
Hints to Young Authors,
“The first thing you need is to have
something to say. If you have noth-
ing that you are burning to tell, keep
silent. Next you must remember that
the way of saying a thing is very im-
portant, and so you must cultivate
style. To gain a good style you must
read the best authors. You will learn
how to write only by reading, and not
by writing out your own thoughts,
while you are young; but by taking
in great thoughts, the thoughts and
words of the great of all ages,”
“Read Dante, Milton, Shakespeare ;
have always on hand a task, in the way
of a history or an essay, or some vol-
ume which you cannot read hastily.
Gradually, by reading the best litera-
ture you will gain a good vocabulary,
and learn to express yourself as the
masters do.”
When you write do not choose a
high flown sabject which does not ia-
terest, and is in no way real to you,
but describe something with which youn
are familiar. Take your father’s
house, or the strzet your school stands
on, or your own room, and try to make
a pen picture of either of these. Write
in plain simple langaage, as you would
speak. Always write as if you were
talking to somebody a child, or a dear
mother, or your cousin Bob who is in
Madras, or your aunt Emmeline, in the
frontier fort, a week’s journey from
home.
" Never think especially of publishing
your work, or of making money by it.
Money is paid only to those who un-
derstand their art, not to beginners.
You will spoil your work and ruin all
your chances if you let the thought of
money enter into you first writing.—
Harper's Young People-
Mattie Objects.
It is the usual practica for dissolute
husbands to rush into print when they
drive their wives from home, by adver-
tising them as having “left their bed
and board without just cause or provo-
cation,” etc. We notice by the Somer-
set Herald the following new departure,
which, we think, will apply to one half
the cases advertised :
NO. 1—NoTICE.
My wife, Mrs. Mattie Powell, having
this day left my bed and board without
just cause, I hereby notify all persons
against harboring or giving her credit,
as I will not be responsible for any
debts she may contract on and after
this date. E. T. POWELL.
semen
NO. 2—A CARD.
In answer to the above notice I
would state to the public that the above
notifier did not own a bed, consequently
I did not leave his bed ; it was my bed,
bed clothes and all, and 1 took it with
me when I left. I had to stand person-
ally responsible for debts he incurred
and for purchases made for our living,
consequently my credit will remain un-
impaired now, since I have left him. I
did not leave without cause, but could
endure the brutality of a drunken hus-
band no longer. Mgrs. M. POWEL L
——Remember that a full Democra-
tic vote will give us an old-fashioned
Democratic majority in this county,
and where is the Democrat who will not
rejoice in finding that his county bas
done its full duty on the day of the elec-
tion.
Salvationists’ City Colony.
A Human Bee Hive in Which Poor Wretches Are
Kindly Cared for.
Among the institutions which make
up the city colony of the Salvation
Army in London are the Penny Shelter
--a place where the poor may find tem-
porary lodging for a penny & night, or
in return for some small service ; the ex-
Prisoners’ Home—a receiving station for
released prisoners, brought from the
prison gates by a special brigade of the
army assigned to that service; the
Lodging House—or an improved shelter
the Food Depot--a cheap restaurant
where supplies are bought in large quan-
tities at wholesale and sold at practical-
ly cost, or in case of proved destitution
served free, usually on some plan of
credit for future services ; the Work
Shop—where persons seeking refuge in
the shelters who show a disposition to
work are supplied with various kinds of
employment, from chopping and bund-
ling wood to cabinet making : the Poor
Man's Metropole a cheap hotel designed
to offer a comfortable home to indus-
trious and self-respecting people.
——Read the WATCHMAN,