. r tB eew cail 'Hu'arfi! Hardware! I:1 ruMinhcJ Wiklf at I ,rll ff". t l VBPJ covstt. r.t tliteratlon f advert f... erted it lbs folkwfn low ratal ; 1 iDfh, I time , m lco tjan 11 v no t. mootri. e months... 1 yr ( months... i r' 6 month!-. 1 Tr ) , i It 1 tv tl -' 1 ;,, I :i I.) .1,1 ult'iiTi 1 -i, ! tT" . i : , - iZm? -A;f -7;-iZ:-- 0 col'n 6 month... " t months... '4 " 1 yer c mooiB.. it--.to ..I I 1 yenr T5.C" i'1'ify. i Iu.In !tem. Crt tnertlnn ICe. per 11d ; b mbiiequrnt lnertiin fcc. r r line. Adminitrt. r nd Eiecntor" Noticf ..... Aodlt.or'f NotirM - StrT nd plmHar Notioe - IP- KjoiuJtoTM or pToctrdinf oj ov cT"c'o or oor?y. and romunirofcti Jrticva ( ri fton f or,) -Mif'rrci li-niftJ or tnitrdI ifrrf tnuf br vatu rm a adrrrttrntnt . Job I'Rin-rmo ot all kinds ceatl; and exTx' onBlj eecutfl at lowen I rlcea . Lon"t yoo lor it. - if 1 I irWAi JAS C' "ASSON. Editor and Publisher. 'HE IS a FRXKMAK WHOM THE TRUTH MAKES TREK, AKD ALL ARK SLAVES BESIDE. SI.50 and postage per year, in advance. y M'.'ii-r": raR ; ,r j VOLUME XIX, E BENS BURG, PA.. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1SS5. NUMBER 38. r4-kdltrfot rompoled of Ibe :J . .trials fl ill I W) JH I , Lffl will 0 t 'i for ;!-; nts and that I npUoa I la:7aw ' Is. A..'-' ill So. Oxio:i-:., . : : ii t n the World 'i 3 Osr ..ar M,-r-". Vl.lte b- drrotwl their Urn t,i l1" t'c.'r of rti ieloi la the l:.d Onran. the ! fciorha'inz nannra-.-.urcil Orcsm for 80 yean. posmvESiPJPLE DURABLES t get ont of or Tune YFAr.S. ! OVER, t-5 O STYLES ; icPirir-an ORGAN J .trt T : 1 !nto j '-iroliaslng ! crla.it cl- '.in a rr. '.'.-I i' Of STOPS ar.a FEW hEI'l'l fc'it v-nt; to a RELIABLE fttcturor i ;r;a. t - c '. tut a f. v f.nts each W-::r f t o .r CATALOGUE ar.d diagram ii-;.-.- v.r i.-.-.on cf f.i-! INTERIOR of i :k:ans. SEMT FREE TO ALL, nd a:-SNTS D'.,C0UNI3 al'.owed -v:-ere we I tv; r.j Age::t. WilcoXe. Whits Oigssi Co. 1 meridew. r'rirrv. vii ir 1 nr Tn 1 r !p r r 1 :! I i '7",'.' U 1 ' !' . i . i.:'.-r ,t t ( T -r n ": .'r in. 1 .ir !!! ; . -pi :n.ii'Y. '1. I'M I;:: :.'h".'"' 'vv.i-,;;r-i. Hi WCH ARM, . PRSCIPLES C.WENT3, AU ' i AND PERFECT ir SHUTTLE, - ftitZZL?, rosi-i-j FEW ' ;.:m WilCMV, NO K-f E, WOWl R, . :vi ' 7A"7r?'JF ," -5 Sr. ALWAYS .;rhamnt - ''' - amo cjves : ACTION. i -V- ' iii or. PES , 'AVERY '!NE CG v York. 11 . . .. . rt ,.gr;c, (if. "'OLUNO BUCKr O.-.RD. t srf : rsio a-ray T.ith T !:: p.i,:,v.i 1 1 1 t-iY'f (r pin,, r , ; ' ': r.,.r d'l (,!. i---. -" 1 :h .re ' Ihi-Wk'.-.-. '--'-u. "...j :rt.,tu,v.:, THIS PiP?R " f-:Vu Philadelphia I . ... ; r; .5 J 1 i . -u Cr-.iifirnn. ruts ...- rit o , Boar I -. . :, Ti.irVha. Em, tntic'. . ' 7; J t'i t deep, and prumutc &i- C"- - C-ou-AsT. 1 Ptiitaa F-.rcot, K. Y. 3 i rnn mn him t' ni - run ivi on omiv Ntnvi HiURALGIA, on b nin C3S rJ Sprains, Bruises, .aw e a jurnsanabcaias, Eludes, Eaefoicfie. 2 Frosted Feet and a -r;l -Lars, and all other Pains and Aches. tgJSS 11 is a ?, frt7, and 3 w'v'H effectual Remedy for Gas, Strata. Scratches. Seres, &c, on HORSES. One trial will prove its merits. Its effects are in most cases IUCTA 5 ! T A upntio 'f frive sntii-ractlori. fcnU aU- biwiWI uresi t,r raiiirhio, . frt-e. iriv. JU IUU u'rci-tioi,a tor the treatment, of nhovft di.--as. Prion 25 rt. and 60 ots. per m ixjitie. cow everywhrre. -41 Star', Juhns.in t lord, Froprittora, "a BorlloTton. Tt. S-M t).. Kirkrr ( fire., K,.ft;.-t-rir, fa. RiVINi US' BLOCK, CARL RjViiiU, Practical Watifeate ami jdeler HAS alwij! on haj I -s !aref. rnrieit -n t le iran t rt mi nt tt' A I ' I i Kv . ( ' U x ? K s. .1 k vv ki.k y . s h K ' r 1 1 r.: s. kv koi.as.sks. c.,wlnrb he offers fi r ?a!-a! 1' w;r , ru es than anv other Jcakr In the onunty. I'crjuns nee linv no; ' 1.1 ti if In h! HnB wi 1 i ,. wcl 1 t o t-ive him a call Npf-ire purohasintr elHwhere. iPrnriipf auonfiun pii i n r-'iimririir Clorlifl V --tie?. .lew el ry , fci'., ni3 sat i. tot inn uaran r i In o' h work ami ; ric- 25 YEAKO Ihs Greatest Meaira' 'jLriii'.cpi of tie Afjs! s y iv PTC r7fso A ; -J p. J K iL m T.nja ol n ppotitc. ilcwrlj romivc, fata in th3 hend. wit.t n c'ul! BPitit!cn in the lm.k T.rt. i'aia u.iii. r I he choaldrr Maap, I'iiIIpmii nTi en ti;:c, wiih a rits icr! it.-! i ion t a rTPrticanf bndy rr mind, i 1 rlt-.J y cf tetupcr. l.ovr ci lrita, Uh : f jc linr r f h a vi n r nrs'frf ed Sfrndmy, t. c- ri ii- n. Jt7?ine. t'l attertn nt t he M.-iirt. Iot hcl'ire tia cyr, fladaxbe - - r:- ! riiht eye, fie.it!eMi)f, wfth . J :!.-! n r. n.. liub'Trnlfir.-d I rioe, and 1 rf. s mn 1 s effects sncri a .. 1 f). 1 . rr n t.M.-.' ip i li tht; sulfpror. i r ri vi"tt'end ca'iae the ' 'l 'k.ke oil Klrsh.tiiu4 tlie tyti.m Is , ry : 'it.:, ? -, lv"'i :r 'foiile Artlnn oa ;'! in e'ii i c srmtr j.llr-iii Sfoolaare 1 V 1 .'J':, i ; I itrro y st..rV.V. BYE. - y.J it D rJ ". T Mint WiHsKr HS changed to a r I'-lacx bv :: sinerln npplication of J )T. It lrniiart i a i.alurdl color, acts ' -lU'.ret.u yr !-ol l by Druggists, or v: !, iprcBHun receiptof 1. .-. 4 Muruy St., flew York. The CHEAT JUMBO fc.'CINE - AM: piUER C'MIRI.VfD .' I r rirt.fi:. S,-t'jju-aril ifU iii.'ii.?.t ri In '3 , j the nmrK.-t u.r.lriv- j I.ik iiirht m.ici.ine I T .'ajt the lhln If .r fari.ier. use. Ice f cin K. alrrs' lr n rnn rre..e. ' t-resh k Mn -hineH J Iaii.ifiiotnrer ,'ir "1 all hln.l ot Mi- , ' eh inerv J ,nhl)ini. , ? .-erirl tlir 'n t !o ao ' and Price I.l-t. J"1 II. P. II ANKIN,- -? r.f S. HO SS '' ' , I luwix Ave. '"'J A' 1 ruitErv. Vs. y.y isSi. lyr i. I's;. j ; .'t-.' t)htf,ir rl ml " PA TEXT fH'SIXKSM at I r.i.I to for MODERATE FEES Our fficf in .i.i'i-it-t!i U iS PtUrnt Of fiff , xnrl w pan btin l"leiitH in lesn time tlinn tho rcrKotp from W A HI XGTOX. Sn.I MODEL OR DliA tt'JXV. We al visp as to f.atenns.'it v frt-e if ohnree : m1 wm n..be .YO CHAH7E UNLESS PATEXT IS SEC L K Eh. We refr. tiere. to the Postmaster, tlie Sunt, of Monev OrnVr inl to officials of thf U. S. 1'ntwnt Offii-e. For circuUr, ad vice, terois and references to art ual clients fn vo'ir own State or County, write to 13 pp. A. SXOWcfc CO., alent m-, tVavhlnton, 1. ' THIS PAPER r ay rorvn os ni.K AT k. v. H()VKLI. Ol. t w a .a . . - J II....... ,lr SPlirT'M iirwip.prr Aurcoiwnn ..... . ... . . b. r j v r t . u.iri ur An. mm Mmt P V W .P 9 t Intr -- -S 1 .a A 3Ea EXTERNAL PATENTS HEW YORK. VI KIIM0 OVIRACH juuy l.-u mailc lur it iu A TRAGEDY; ) u- THE STORY OF TOE CHAIN PIER. CIIAPTKK T. Most visitors to Ilrigliton prefer the new pier: it is altogether a more mag nificent affair. It is in tlie fashionable town, for fashion yvill go westward; it is larger, more commodious, more fre quented, (fo to the West Pier when you yvill, there is always something to see; beautiful women, pretty girls, fash ionable belles promenade incessantly. There are times when it is crowded, and there is even a difficulty in making room for all who come. Xoyvonder the Utt of I'ri-hton hke the West Pier; it i one of the most enjoyable spots in Kngland, every luxury and comfort are there, a good library, plenty of newspa pers, elegant little shops, excellent re 1 reshment rooms, line music; and then the lovely blue, dimpling sea. the little boats w ith their while sails, like white winged birds on the water, the grand stretch of the waves, the blue kv over-, head, and the town, with its tine, tall houses shining in the sunlight, the line of white cliff, and the beach where the children are at play. Von go down to the wonderful jetty, which, to me, was one of the most mysterious and roman tic of places, there" the water is of the deepest, choicest emerald green, ami it washes the wonderful net-work of pules with a soft, lapping sound, beautiful to hear. You can stand there with only a rail between you and the deep, green water, watching the lisher-bonts out on the deep; watching, perhaps, the steam er with its load of passengers, or look ing over the wide, sunlit waves, dream ing dreams born of the sea out of the world: alone in the kingdom of fancv; there is always something weird in the presence of deep, silent, moving waters. There is always plenty of life, gaiety, and fashion on the West 1'ier. It is a famous place, not for love-making but lor flirtation; a famous place for study ing human nature; a famous place for passing a pleasant hour. Yon mav often meet great celebrities on the West Pier; faces familiar at the House of Lords, familiar at Court, familiar at the opera are to be seen there during t'ae season: beautiful faces that have grown rale and worn yvith the excite ment of a London campaign, and here, as they are lent thoiighttully over the green waters, the bracing air brings sweet roses, tlie lines fade, th" eves brighten; there is no such beaut ifief as a sea breeze, no bloom so radiant and ( harming as that brought by the wind i roui t he sea. On the West Pier you w ill find all the beauty, rank, and fashion of I rich ton; you will see costumes a rtri,-, dresses that are artistic and elegant: you yvill see fac-s beautiful and well-known; yon will hear a charming ripple of con versation: you will wiine.s-, many pleas ant and piquant advent ures: but if you want to dream: if you wanl to give" up your ythoie heart an 1 soul to tlie poetry of M e sea: if you want to listen to join.; 'r' -iway from the world; if you want to iw .' the music (if the win, Is. their v,hi:-pfi.' their lullabies, their m.-'i i!:".':is. the. frantic rages, von me-t go to 1 he ):! ''Hin Pur. Asa lule yoii Will find few . r but you may know ihey are a special t - vou will see the grave, quiet face of the third.' r. who has chosen that .-pot he-c.-.:i: r- he docs not want to b disturbed 1 v the frou-fron of ladies" dies .s. or the lli'l.ir (l ..: to la- Jtii.ii. It olUsi 1..: o',' vr! I ). 1!!f s:.!.- ;u.ii ti.. t!:. ir ha;i Voiee.-: !n- w; . I i t r it a Hie sea aic I tne w n; ; ens that yi n end a : 1- 'Vers t he; :. , ;:;-y pi lean ovei the railing ole oi je i i 'l lite was ill' ti) as to ii'!g sea. 1 o n it believe i ,:1 hear t ! i m iirinur of Hit-in. J'.u' ii t wo Vi "love.' n es. and the theme is always If vim go near them they look slivly at yon. ami in a few minutes liliive t'ent ly away. All. li:;tty lovers. tii.i!- ii.sv tliile tlie sun chines; it docs not .sli:nt' always, t-veii ovt the Chain l'i ll'i".i ::nt to tvatHi tlie wavos, io lit-;:: roliinsi music, if you want to i-cc ;Iic M-anlH whirl in the blue ether, ii a waiii to think, to read, to b alone to till your mind with beautiful thoughts, -o "to the 'Iiain 1'ier at Urigh ton. I'here is a jetty an oM-fa.-Oiioned. tvfird ilare. where the Ricen water rushes swiftly and washes round the trreen wood, where thcro iJ a'v.-iys a beautiful sound of the riintr and fa'.linj of the sea: where yon may sit on one of the old-fashioned seats, seemir notliim; but water and sky around ou. until you rati fan; yourself out in the wide ocean: until you ran wrap your thoucrhts and your senses in th' vny mists of ro mance. Time was w hen the 'hain 1'ier at 1 h : uhton w as one c f the woii'iers of Kmr'and. and cvrii now. with its jio turcsiue chains and arches, I like it belter than am other. 1 may as well teil the truth while I write of it. I kiinw that if the dead ran rise from their graves I shall re visit the Chain 1'ier at lirihton. I spent one hour there. that was f hour of my life. - one madly hat'v. bewilder ing iinur! 1 rememli'T the plank of wood on which my feet rested: 1 re member the railiii'. over which I heard t he preen, deep water, yvith the w hite sailed boat in the distance sails liko ttie vhit! w inijs of amrels beckoning me away: the blue sky with the few lleecy y hite clouds. the wash of the waters airainst the Woodwork of the pier; and I remember the face that, looked down into mine all Heaven lay in it for me; the deep water, the blue sky. the hand some face, the measured rythms of the sea. the calm tones of the clear waves are all mixed in one dream. I cry out in anguish at times that Heaven .may send me such another, but it ran never le: If the dead can return, I shall stand once more where I stood then. I will not tell my story now, but rather tell of the tragedy with which the Chain Tier at Hrighton "is associated for ever more in my mind. I had jrone down to Ilrighton for my health, and I was staying at that most comfortable and luxurious of hotels, "The Norfolk. It. was the end of Sep tember, and the only peculiarity of the month that I remember was this: the nights grew dark very soon they were not cold; the darkness was rather that of soft thick gloom that spread over laud and sea. Xo one need ever feel dull in Brighton. If I could have liked billiards, or eared for the theatre, or en joyed the brilliant shops on the crowd ed" pier, with its line music, I might have l-een happy enough; but 1 was miserable with this aching pain of re gret, and the chill desolation of a terri ble loss. I tried the Aquarium. If fish es would soothe the heart of man, solace might be found there; but to my mor bid fancy tliey looked at me yvith wide ope ft eyes of wonder, they knew the secrets of the sea. the faint stir of life in the beautiful anemones had lost its interest. 1 could not smile at the King Crabs; the reading tables, and the mu sic had no interest for me; outwardly I was yt a'king through the magnificent bails of the Aquarium. inwardly my heart was beating to the mournful r thins of the sea. The clock had not struck seven when I came out. and there King before me was the Chain ri-r. i went mere as naturally as the needle goes to tlie magnet. The moon shone tvith a fitful light. at times it was bright as day. hooded the sea with sil ver, and showed the chain and the arch es of the pier as plain1' as tlie sun could have done showed the running of the waves, they were busy that evening, and came "in fast. spreading out in great sheet s of white foam, ami when the moonlight did touch the foam, it was beautiful to see. Hut my lady moon was coquettish every now and then she hid her face be hind a drifting cloud, then the soft, thick gloom fell again, and the pier lay like a huge shadow the very place, I thought in which a tortured heart couid grow calm; there tvas only tlie wind and the sea. nothing more. I would go to the spot where yve two should stand together never more. I fancied, as I paid for admission at the pale, that tin; face of the person who received it expressed some surprise. It must have seemed a strange taste; but ah me! there had bloomed forme for one short hour the. liaw.-rs of paradise. The thick, syft g'.o.,;u was deeper on the pier. I remember that, as I walked down. I heard Mom the church clocks the hour of eight. .Ml along I lie coast there was a hue of light; Hie town yvas brilliantiv lighted, and when I looked across the wafers, the west pier yvas in all its radiance; the sound of the music lloated over tlie yvaves to me. the light of the colored lamps shone far and wide. I could see the moving mass of people: here I was almost alone. I saw a gentleman smoking his cigar, I saw the inevitable lovers. I satv an old man yvith a wan face. I saw tyvo young men, almost boys what had brought them there 1 could not think. I reached the pier-head, where the huge lamp had been lighted, and shone like a great brilliant jewel. I sat down; there yvas no greater pleasure for me than an evening spent there. At first all was quite still: the gentleman smok ing his cigar walked up and dow n; the two youths, who had evidently mistak en the nature of the pior. and considered themselves greatly injured by the ab sence of music, and company, went away; the old man sat still for some time, then he left. I yvas alone then yvith the smoker, yvho troubled himself very little about me. The coquettish moon threw a yvide. laughing gleam around, then van ished. A whole pile of thick, dark clouds came up fr.. in the west :l.id hid her fair face by them the thick, soft gloom had deepened info darkness. I was far fruiu expecting aiivtoi i ' tragi cal as I sat there, co lonelv. As it was. thr d. late, and Pier tvas anv other Ch u lllo!' spot I ha like honi" to me than on earth, because of the 1 spent there. one hour The wind began to freshen and blow coldly where 1 sat. I had no motive in changing my : fat. except to escape just t la- sharwi'-ss of l !,,- breeze. I rr.'s-'d to the other side, where the yvhite line of eliiis lav awav from the brilliant li oi the West true; pier. icr. duet, b hind e'der A ;!, n : e on the eivct'-d io s a', e myself up to a v I (1 reams. : -annul tell how if was. but to-night many ghostly stories that I had read about piers came to my mind. For in stance, now, how easy" it would lie for any man to -leal up to me through the thick, soft, .-hadowy mist, and murder me before I had time to even utter a rr. I might be thrown over into the sea. Then I said to myself what a foolish thought. 1 was close to m anv people, such a murder " - impossible. Yet I y as foolish enough to turn mv head and try to peer through the darkness if any fine yvas near. The tail, slender figure of a woman dressed in a dark cloak was slowly walk ing up the middle of the pier. She codd not see me. but I saw her plain ly, distinctly. I noticed the grace of her movements, h'-r grand carriage. She was closely veiled, so that I could not see her face. Hut. unless I yvas much mistaken, she carried a bundle of something held tightly under her arm. CIIAITKK II. If this had been an ordinary woman I should not have not iced her. beyond the passing regard of the moment": it yvas the gra.ee of her walk that attracted mv attention, and I felt sure that as slie passed me by I heard tlie sound of bit ter, passionate sobbing. Tlie old story over again, I thought, sorrow and pain, longing and love! J'.at for the sound of that sol, as she passed me I should not have watched Tier. 1 sla uld not have known what after wards 1 would have given my life not to know. She walked right on to the very head of t he mi .ut pier, and stood there for a few es. I km-w. bv instinct, that she w as ci ing h:i t rly; t hen 1 was struck by the manner in round: i! was evid v.-;; a i me looked nt to me that she wished to be quite aloua. At times the waves playing round the wooden pillars made s ii.ie unus"al sound; she turned quickly, as though she suspected some one was near her. One a gentleman stolled leisurely down the pier, stood for a few minutes watching tin; sea in silence, then v cnl aw ay; while he yvas then' she stood st ill and motionless as a statue: then she looked round yvith a steal! hy gaze a gaze so unlike the free, grand grace of her movements, that I was struck by it. She could not see me, because I was in the deep shadow, but I could see every gesture of hers. I saw her raise her face to the darkening skies, and I feit that some despairing prater was on her lips, and the reason why I could see her so plainly yvas this, that she stood just where the rays of the lamps fell brightly. It yvas a dramatic scene, the dark, heaving sea. with the littnl gleam of the moonlight; the silent pier, yvith the one huge light; the tall, dark figure stand ing there so motionless. Why did she look round yvith that hurried, stealthy glance as though so desirous of being alone? Presently she seemed to realize that she stood yvhere the light fell brightest, and she turned away. She walked to the side of the pier farthest from me. where she stood opposite to the bright lights of the yvestern pier. She did not remain there long, but crossed again, and this time she chose that part of the pier where I was sit ting. Far back in the deep shade in the cor ner she did not see me, she did not sus pect that anyone was near. I saw her give a hasty look dow n the pier, but her glance never fell on the corner where 1 sat. She went to the railings one or two of them were broken and had not been repaired; in a more frequent ed place it might, perhaps, have been dangerous. She did not seem to notice it. She stood for some minutes in si lence, then I heard again bitter weep ing, passionate sobs, long drawn sighs. I heard a smothered cry of '"Oh. Heav en! oh. Heaven! have pity;?' and then a sickly gleam of light came from the sky, and by it. light I saw that she took the bundle from ur-aler her arm. I could not see what it was or what it held, but she bent her head over it. she kissed it. ah; yvith what passion of tears, kissed it. sobbed over it with passionate sobs, then raised it alove the railings and let it fall slowly into the yvater. There was a slight splash, no other sound. As she raised the bundle I sayv distinctly that it was something wrap ped in a grey and black shawl. I swear before Heaven that no thought of wrong came to my mind; I never dreamed of it. I had yvatched her first because the rare grace of her tall figure and of her walk cams to me as a surprise, then because she was evi dently in such bittnr sorrow, then be cause she seemed so desirous of being alone, but never did one thought cross my mind that there was a shadow of blame or wrong: I should have been far more on the alert had I thought so. I yvas always of a dreamy, sentimental, half-atvake kind of mind; I thought of nothing more than a woman, desperate, perhaps, with an unhappy love, throtv mgthe love-letters and presents of a faithless lover into the sea nothing more. I repeat this most emphatically, as I should not like any suspicion of in dolence or indifference to rest upon me. A slight splash, not of anything heavy, no other sound; no cry. no word a moment's pause in the running of the yvaves. then they tvent on again, gaily as ever, yvashing the wooden pil lars and wreathing them with fresh seaweed. The tall figure, with the head bent over the rail, might have been a statue for all the life or stir there was within her. (finite a quarter of an hour passed, and she did not stir. I began to wonder if she were dead; her head yvas bent the whole time, watching the yvaves aB they ran hurrying past. Then the lady moon relented, and showed her fair face again; a flood of silver light fell over the sea. each wave seemed to catch some of it, and break with a thou sand ripples of light, the tthite cliffs caught it. it fell on the old pier, and the tall black figure- stood out in bold relief against the moonlit sky. I was uiniost startled when she turn ed round,, and I saw hr face quite plainly. The same light that revealed her pretty little face and figure, thretva deeper shade over me. She looked anx iously uiand down, yet by a singular fatality never looked at tlie corner of the yvooden huiiding yvhere I sat. I have often wondered since that I did riot cry out tvlien I saw that face, so wonderfully beautiful, but so marble white, so sad. so intent, so earnest, the beautiful eyes wild with pain, the beau tiful mouth quivering. I can see itnotv, and I shall see it until I die. There was a low. broad broyv, and go'den brown hair clustered upon it. hair that was like a crown: tlie face was oval-shaped, exquisitely beautiful, with a short upper bp, a full lovely un der on-, and a perfectly niudeiied chin. Pait it was the face of a woman almost mad with despair. "Oh. Heaven! if I dare if I dare!" she one.!. Sh . Hung !:p per hands yvith 1 ia-ii iv of one who has no hope; b.ca Iii-jU d over at the sea, once more at the pier, then slowlv turned awav. and again quite plainly I heard the words, "Oh. Heaven: if I dare if I dare!" She then walked slowly away, and I lost sight of her under the silent arches; but T could not forget her. What a face! what beauty, what passion, what pain, yvhat love and despair, what good ness and power! What a face! When should I ever forget it? Impelled by curiosity. I went to the railings, and I stood yy here she stood. I looked down. How deep and fathom less it seemed, this running sea'. What was it she had dropped there? In mv mind's eye I saw a most pathetic little bundle made of love letters; I pictured them tied yvith a pretty faded ribbon: t here would be dried llow crs. each one a memento of .-onie happy occasicif.-. I could fancy the dried ..".. ttie wither ed f '."et-me-nois. the violets, tvith -me faint odor lingering still around them. Then there would be a Valen tin', perhaps two or three; a photo graph, and probably an engagement ring. She had Hung them awav into the depths of the sea. and only Heaven knows yvhat hopes and love she had tli.ng with them! I could understand now w hat that cry meant "If I dare if I dare"' It meant that if she dare she would fling herself into the sea after them: How many hopes had been Hung, like hers, into those black depths: Then I came to the conclusion that I yvas, to say the least of it. a simpleton to tvaste so much time and thought about another person's affairs. I remember that, as I ytalked slowly down the pier, I met several people, and that I felt a glow of pleasure at the thought that some people hail the good sense to prefer the Chain Pier. And then I went home. A game of billiards, a long chat in the smoking-room, ought to have dis tracted my mind from the little incident I had yvitnessed. but it did not. My bed-room faced the sea. and I dreyv up the blind so that I might look at it once more. The leautifiil sea has many yveird aspects, none stranger than yvheh it lies heaving sullenly under the light of the moon. Fascinated, charmed. I stood and watched it. The moon had changed her mind, she meant to shine now; the clouds had all vanished; the sky yvas dark and blue; the stars tvere shining; but the wind had quickened, and the yvaves rolled in brisklv with white silvery foam marking their pro gress. The Chain Pier stood out quite clear and distinct in the moonlight, very fair and shapely it looked. Then I went to sleep ami dreamt of the yvhite, beauti ful, desperate face of the woman tvho had, I believed, throttn hrr love-letters into the sea. The tvind grew rougher and the sea greyv angry daring' the nigiit. when at t n.i-s I woke from mv sleep I could hear thorn. Ah! long be fore this the love-letters had len de stroyedhad been torn bv the sytift yvaves; the faded ilowers and all the pretty love tokens were done to death in the brisk waters. I yvondered if. in thought, that beautiful, desperate tvom an would go back to that spot on the Chain Pier. The morningfolloyvingdawned bright and calm: there was a golden sunlight and a bine sea: why the color of the water should change so greatly, I could not think, but change it did." I have seen it dear as an emerald, and I have seen it as blue as the hikes and seas of Italy. This morning it wore a blue dress, and a thousand brilliants danced on its broad, sweet bosom. Alreadv there were a number of people on the promenade; both piers looked beautiful, and were full of life and activity. It must have been some kind of holiday. I forget for tvhat the Hags were flving, and there yvas a holiday iook about tlie toyvn. I thought I would yvalk for ten minutes before my breakfast. I yvent toyyards the ChaiifPier, dratvn by the irresistible attraction of the face I had seen there last evening. It struck me that there yvas an unusu al number of people about the Chain 1'ier; quite acroyvd had collected at the pate. People v.ere talking to each oth er in an excited fashion. I sayv one or tyvo policemen, and I came to the con clusion that some accident or other hail happened on the pier. I went up to the crowd two or three latmen stood leaning over the rail. "What is the matter?'" I asked. "Matter, sir," replied one: "there is matter enough. There must have leen murder, or something very much like it, done on that pier last night." "Murder!'' I cried, yvith a beating heart: "do not use such a horrible word." "It is a horrible thing, sir. but it has been done," replied the boatman. t HA 1'1'Kli III. I rr. n not I'll yhv Ih - word "murder" struck me with such honor. I stood looking at the old Whitman like one struck with dismay. I yvas on the M,int of saying that it was quite impossible for I had been on the Cham Pier lat night, and had seen nothing of the kind. Some impulse restrained me. "I would not go so far as to say it was murder.' interrupted a sturdy boatman. "I have been about here a great many years, and I have seen some queer things. J should hardly call this mur der." "It yvas a life taken awav. whether you call it murder or not," said the old man. "May be but I am not sure. I have seen many mad with misery, but mur der is a rare thing." "What is it?" 1 asked. "A child, sir only a little child," said the sturdy boatman. "The body of a little child found drowned off the pier here." Now. ivhy should I start, and trem ble, and grow sick at heart? What had it to do yvith me? I knew nothing of any murdered child, yet great drops formed on my brow, and my very heart trembled. "A little child found drowned," I re peated; "but how do yon knotv it yvas murdered? It may have fallen into the water." "It was not old enough for that, sir," said the elder boatman, "it is but a fair little mite a baby girl; not more than three yveeks old." Ah, why did the beautiful, desperate, face I had seen the night before flash before my eyes then? The boatman went on "It is plain to my eyes that it is a murder: although the child is but a tender babe; all the greater murder for that, a bigger child might have helped itself, this one could not." "Tell me about it? " I said. Ah! if my heart would but stop beat ing, or if the beautiful, desperate face would but fade from my memory. "It yvas .lamest lay tfin yvho found it." continued the old man. "He was at work in the jetty this morning when he caught sight of something moving up and doyvn yvith the yvaves; at first he thought it looked like an old rag, and he took no notice of it, then something about it attracted his attention more and more. He went nearer and found that it yvas a grey and black shatvl, that ha d caught on some large hooks which had been driven into the yvooden pillars for some purpose or other a woman's shawl, sure as c n!d be; some lady, he thought, laid diopp-d it over the" pier and ii had caught on these hooks beloyv the yvater. .1 ,m tt ;.s pleas, d: bethought, if worth anything, he might get a trifle of reyvard l.,r it: if not, he might take it home to his old mother. ".le to..k his b ::t to the spo) sir. to .I:m"s surprise, he found not only a shawl, but a bun thouglit'lie had found a ti' as u hasten' d to get it in;i-kiv olf tlie . but, t yvas !": he ami looks. It had been :ght ore tightly by ac have been placed ral.ait than it Colli there bv human hands. It yvas tight on the hooks, and he had to tear the shawl to get it off. He lost no time opening it. and there yvas a little, fair child, drotvned and (!-.: I. "It yvas not a plea-ant sight, sir. on a bright morning, yviien the sunshine was ! d dancing ov. r ine wave: heart t urncd quite laii the little w hite body . mite, sir it yvas eicu. vei V aii gi Is Weep! r-o:. . dial said Lis when he satv uch a fair little ii to make the ! vv.ciaii. sir Heaven forbid that it was the mother is'-'.v.e i had dressed it in pre'.'.y ythite eiothes. ii had a At hite' gown',' yvith lace, and a soft yvh.te yvoolien cap on the little goldetr ht ad. A sorry sight, sir a sorry sight! Jim said that when he tin, light of that little lender b tv S". ;nig to and 1 ro v. it h t iie yvaves e could not keep the tears a;; nig! fi in l.;s ov. "It tv:;s in ;n to s.i K. you see. sir. in. tvith rough energy ne aat to be caught. I. He is above all. and foul inued t he i, "it yvas ney , i Put the gn at . lie knoyt s th .ttie one yvas not to sink to t he bottom like lea and mur icr w ill out." It is true, sir, "Ihit is nothing knoyvn?" I asked. ''Surely such a thing could never be done yvithout someone seeing or knoyv ing something about it." "I am afnrd. sir, no one knoyvs but the one yvho did it. Some yvoman. sir, had dressed the little thing a man would never have thought, of the soft woollen cap. And I can tell you r.noth er thing, sir a man yvould never have killed a childlike that; not that I am upholding meir some of them are brutes enough but I do iut think any man yvould throyv a little babe into the yvater. When a yvoman is bad. she ?'.- bad. and there is nothing y"ile enough for her." I thought of the beautiful and des perate face. Heaven grant that she might h ive nothing to do yvith this! And vet the black ami grey shatv 1? " hereabout yvas it?" I asked. lie pointed yy it! i his hand to the very spot whei c she had stood. ".hi-' tV-re." he the lit- :. -bund:.' w: just below t he ll:n- 'It yvas t here Sir, r- of til All ' jc and there, tv, it yvas caug.d ov tlie hoo'rs. The identic:!1 spot vher.'f sic stood. On. bca;;'.i. u-'s; v..i ii. r yt'na! was hidden i.:i,'"r your ma sioic'. "Viiii should go o.i t !; pi.-r. si r see for yourself." s..i i ; 1 oH "The s ap 'riuten lent of the pot had face. k of and man. is there now : I n; ; ,i, y v. a. yt ho did t hat ! W omen tliov are v a-ked. and t !. never iiiei are deep yt one ytho out hen did this was wricked enough." There was a slight sugg -st ion on the part of fn-.' 'little group as to live morn ing being a dry one. We parted on very silt islactory terms. I yvent on the pier, and under the wooden shelter yvhere I hail sat lat night. I sayv a group the superintend ent of the police yvith one of tlie oflieers. the manager of the pier, the keepers of the different stalls, a feyy strangers, and dim, the boatman, yvho had found the little bundle dripping wet. Oh, Heav en: the pathos ot it. On the yvooden seat lav the little bundle, so white, so fair, like a small, pale rose-bud, and by it. in a yvet heap, lay the black and grey shawl. I kneyv it in one moment; there was not another yvord to be said; that yvas the same shawl I had seen in the woman's hands when she dropped the little bundle into the sea the self same. I had seen it plainly by the bright, fitful gleam of the moon. The superintendent said something to me, and I yvent fortvard to look at the little child so small, so fair, so tern' hotv could anv woman, with a yvoman's heart, drop that warm, soft little nurs ling, into the cold, deep sea. It ytas a woman who killed Joel a yvoman who sleyv Holofernes but the yvoman who drowned this little, tiny child, was more rruel bv far than they. "What a sweet little fare:" said the superintendent "it looks just as if it were made of wax." I bent forward. Ah! if I had doubted liefore. I rould doul.t no longer. The little fare, even in its waxen pallor, was like the beautif ul one I had seen in its white despair last night, dust the same rluster of hair, the same lieautiful mouth and moulded rhin. Mother and child, I kneyv and felt sure. The little white garments tvere dripping, and some kind, motherly yvoman in the crowd came forward and dried the little f.ire. "Poor little thing!" she said, "hotv I should like to take those yvet things off, and make it warm by a good lire." 'It will never be vann agrin in th'-s world," said one of the l-oatmen. "There is but little chance w hen a child has lain all night in the sea." "All night in the sea:" said the piti ful wornau; "and my children lay so warm and comfortable in their soft lit tle beds. All night in the sea! Poor little motherless thing!" She seemed to take it quite for grant ed that the child must be motherless; in her loving, motherly heart she con! 1 not think of such a crime as a mother destroy iug her own child. I saw that all the men whe stood round the bolv were struck yvith this. "What yviil be done with it?" she asked. "It will go to the deadhouse at the workhouse," said the superintendent, "arid the parish yvill bury it." Then I stood forward. "No!" I cried, "if the authorities will permit. I will take upon mvself the expense of burying that little "child it sna.i ma nave a paupers funeral; it ehall be buried in tiie beautiful green cemetery in the Leyvcs ltoad, and it shall have a yvhite marble eross at the head of its grave." "You are very good. sir.". said the su perintendent, and the pitiful yvoman cried out: "Heaven bless you, sir: I would do the same thing mvself if I could afford it." "There must lie an inquest." said someone in the crowd: "we ought to knoyv w hether the child yvas dead be fore it was thrown into the yvater." "I hope to Heaven it was!" cried the woman. And I said to mvself that, if that were the rase, it would not bo murder not murder, but some mad, miserable mother's way out of some dreadful dif ficulty. Surely, on the beautiful despairing face I had not seen the hand of murder! If the httle one had been dead, that would lessen the degree of wickedness so greatly. The. yvoman yvho had dried and kissed the tiny waxen face, bent over it now. "I am sure," she said, "that child yvas alive when it touched the water." "How do you know?" asked the su perintendent, curiously. "Look at the face, sir. and you will see. " "I see nothing," he replied. "I do." she said. "I see just yvhat you yvould He on the face of a baby suddenly plunged into cold yvater. "I see the signs of faint, babv surprise. Look at the baby's brows arid the little hand spread yvide open. It yyas living when it touched the yvater. I am sure of that." I "A doctor yvill soon settle that ques tion. " said the superintendent. Then the little one yvas carried hv rough but not ungentle hands to the deadhouse on the lull. I went with it. I overheard the superintendent tell the master of the tvork house that I was a rich man an invalid and that I passed a great deal of mv time at Prighton. In a lowered voice he added that I was very eccentric, and that, happening to le on the Chain Pier that morning. I had insistei upon paving the expenses of the little funeral. " "A kind. ( hrisiiati gentleman." tlie master said. "I am glad to hear it." I shall never forg-t the pitiful sight of that tiny yvhite form laid on the ta ble al ine quite alone I could not for get it. The matron had found a little V lite d-ess to yy rap it in. and with kindly tlio ight had laid some wliiti chrysanthemums on the little, innocent 1 '.'.".""".L Whenever I see a chrysanthe mum noyy it brings lia-at V.iC .whole . scene the bare, white walls. the .can, yy aodcil floor, the black tre-tlen nnct tho taoie yvnereon tne bur, tender body lay all alone. little l II A I'TKK IV. Our little life in this world seems of little t-o-int. Throyv a stone into the sea it makes a splash that lasts for one second. thn it is all over the waves roll on just as though it had not leen dropped. The death of this one little child, whom no one kneyv. and for whom no one cared, yvas of less than no account; it made a small paragraph in tlie news papers. it had caused some little com motion on the pier, just a little hurry at the tvorkhouse, and then it yvas for gotten. What yvas such a little waif and stray such a small, fair, tender little creature to tne gay croyvd? "A child found drotviied by tlie Chain Pier." Kind-hearted, motherly yvomeu shrugged their shoulders yvith a sigh. The lin.i.ng or the death of such hapless little ones is, alas! not rare. 1 do not think, of the hundreds yvho carelessly beard the yvord s that morning, there yvas one yvho stopped to think of the po-sible suffering of the child. It is a yvide step from the tvarmth of a moth er's arms to the chill of the deep sea yvater. The gay tide of fashion ebbed and flowed just the same; the band played on the Chain 1'ier the morning foiiotving: the sunbeams danced on tlm yvater. there was nothing to remind one of the little life, so suddenly and terribly eh ised. There was not much more to tell. There ytasan inque-t, but it ytas not of much use. Kver.one kneyv that the child had hern drowned; the doctor though; it yvas drugged before it was droyvn-'d: there yvas very bttle to be said aii'. at it. Jim, the boatman, proved the finding of it. The coroner said a few citd words when he heard that one cf the visitors of the town, out of sheer pity, had offered to defray the expenses of tin' little funeral. The little unknown bale, yvho had spent the night in the deep sea. yvas burii d in the cemetery on the Iewes Load. I bought a grave for her under the spreading boughs of a tree; she had a yvhite pall and a quantity of yvhite floyvers. The matron from "the tvork house yvent. and it yvas not at all like a pauper's funeral. The sun was shin ing, and the balmy air yvas filled yvith the song of birds; but then, the sun does shine, and the birds yvill sing, for paupers. I ordered a small white marble cross; it stands undr the trees at the head of the little gre'-n grave. When the head mason asked me yihat put upon it. f was pi: en kneyv yvle-ther tii name yvas to ie I d. Only Heav e helpless little child had .a claim to anv name, and. it so, w hat that name yvas. I liethought mvself of one name, it meant bitter- Iiess. and the bitterness of deep waters. "I will call it 'Marah,'" I said, and the name stands there on the marble cross. "Marah. aged three yveeks. found rlroyvned in-the sea. Septemlx-r. is ." Only one small grave amongst many, but a crave over yy hich no mother has shed a tear. Then, after a feyv days more I forgot almost all about it; yet at that time I yyas so lonely, so utterly desolate, that I felt some kind of tie bound me to the little grave, and made me love the spot. It yvas soon all for gotten, but I never forgot the Ix-auti-tul. despairing face I bad seen on the pier that night the face that seemed to have passed me yvith the quickness of a stvift yvin. 1. yet yvhich yvas im pressed on my brain for ever. I have been yvriting to you. reader, behind a veil, let me draw it aside. My name is John Ford by no means a ro mantic name but I come of a good family. I am one of the world's un fortunates. I had neither brother nor sister; my father and mother died yyhile I was quite youug: tl.cy left me a large fortune, but no ii-latioifs no one to l.-vc hie. Mv ii auoati tas a :rrn. grave, elderly man; my youth was lone ly, my manhood more lonely still. I found a fair and daintv love, but sh proved false; she left me for one who had more gold and a title to give her. t hen I lost her, all mv happiness died; the only consolation I "foun 1 was goinir almut from place to plac trt ing to do good where I could. This little inci dent on the Chain Put roused me mors than anything had done for some time. I had one comfort in life a friend whom I loy-od dearer than a brother Lancelot Fleming; and lately he had rome into possesion of a very nice es tate railed Mutton Manor, a fine eld mansion, standing in the midst of an extensive park, and with it an income of three thousand per annum. Lance Fleming had been brought up to the bar. but he never cared much for his profession, and yvas much pleased when ne succeeiicii to his cous'.n s estate, i He had invited ni several tims to visit Dutton Manor, but something or ! other had always intervened to prevent j it. Jance came to see me; we traveled j together; we were the very opposite cf each other. He yvas frank, cav. cheer fill, ahvays laughing, ahvavs with some grand jest on the i,t.,; a laughine. I sunny, blue-eyed fellow, who was like . a sunlienm in every bouse he entered; ' he was always either whistling or smg i ing, and his bright, eheerv voice trolled . out such snatches of sweet song that it yvas a pleasure to hear him. " I I am naturally melancholy, and have a tendency always to look on the dark side of things. You can imagine how j I loved Lance Fleming; the love that . other men give to wives, children pa- rents and relatives, I lavished on him. j I loved his fair, handsome facp his j laughing blue eyes, his sunr.v smile, his. i eheerv voice: I loved his warm-hearted genial manner. In fact. I loved the whole man. just as he was. with a love passing that of women loved him as I j shall love no other. j Naturally enough. Lance was a great I favorite tvith the ladies; every woman : who sayv him loved him more or less. He was quite irresistible when, in addi ! tien to his L..ndsome face and sweet , temper, came the charm of le:ng man j tend a grand old manor-house, with three thousand per annum. Xoyvonder that lie yv.v- popular. The onlv thinji which troub,,d me about Imce was t his man iage: I ahvavs feared it. With i hi gay, passionate temjiTament, his ' universal admiration and chivalrous i manner of treating the fairer sex. it was certain that he would, s.-iout or later, fall in love and marry. From what I kneyv of him. from tlie innate convict ion of my own !vp, r telt sure that h s mm i iage yvould be tlif hinge on wiia-. i iiis yvnoie life woufi turn I was very anxious about it to him a great deal about , and talked it when we were together. "If you marry the lighi woman, Iiie'C. " I said to him. "you will be one of the happiest and niost successful men in the world, b :t if you should make a mistake von yyid le"one of the mw) miserable.' lie ahvavs looked at tne with laughing eyes. "I shall mak no mistake. John. I know that somewhere or other the most adorable yvoman in the world is waiting for me. 1 shall be sure to f:ni her, and fall in love tvith her. marry her, and live happy forever afterwards.'' "Ihit you yvili be careful. Lance." I said. If.Zs caretu: as, n 2ian can le: but, Jhn, as you are so anxious," yem l.Cl . ) efter choose for me." To If Ci'Jii'n v.'f. EEER IK A KIXCE FIE. A Tri. Jonn flayed on III Mil Art I. Ike m VSoonioran. v. , y ,t r..: .. One looked ns wnr n a If tn.. n f.-e-t-jry and the o'hi r looked extromrly j...'.y as they ii ct ou the street pstenlny. "You loot; as viiniii m a hntfnl of bunsrholes. .lours" :,id t!o sw.rl man to the sour man. "What's the matter with yon ?' "I'm sak all over.'' "What nils you '" "I don't, knoyv whether I've plated a trii k upon myself or my yvife played one on mo, but l'n. sick a'.l tin- s uae, and I ve just communed yvlili tlc lamppost up stni-t uiit.l I'm n hollow a- n wntT niHin." "Teli ii. e Jill nhoat it." "Well, ron see. mv yvde's n strict tem perance wui.iaii. mid Fin fivini! oi u little beer o- tv. -ion idly. Ti:et!.er eight I took home a doon bottl'-s of brer. 1 :le,id them 'ci U r nn l jeat tl im it. to the retri erator. Thus I i.c.ld liao n b'tile of cider i f i v. ii h icy dinner ct rry itay nnd my yvife 'i"u"t drop. "I'm h's very fon-l - f ninee-pie and the other il iv a-ked my w i'e to make me just a luiiv one, as -lie doti't en: them. .- he made mo one all for mys.-lf. I'd only arrived nt tlie first stmion yy hen I .-irnrk soint tldag queer. "'What ninkes the nie t.tste so queer?" I asked. '"I can't imagine. Does it ?' she asked. " 'What did j on put in it ?' eske l I. "'The iioti.il concomitants, nnd I ab hor brandy I put some of that cidr into it." say she. "Althouch I felt my boots working op to my collar lui; ton, I didn't dare say any thing- nnd I yv;: co'r"rll'.l to gobble down every n;or-el of that pie. I've bribed Tommy to investigate, for 1 think my mother in-law jn.t the job up. I! she did there's coiag to be a pi, nic the next time she drinks a cap of tea." W there lic rmind lite Needle. "Some twenty je irs ao," saul the tniM faocd stranger, "my yvife, while sewing, suddenly missel her needle. She saw nothing more of it. and soon forgot all about her loss tint il Inst week, when " "When she suddenly felt a pricking sen sation in htr right foot." suggested Hood ie. "When the johit of the needle shewed itself between her shoulder hi ides,' Kuessed Coodlc. "When the needle was f-een producing from her yoange-t daugh ter's loft forefinger," intimated Doodle. "No." said the mild-faced strsng-er, "you are all wrong, she found It in a crack ia the floor. It had Iktii there all those years. Singular, wasn't it:" There was a com mon desire to welter in the bloo i of the mild-faeeil stranger: but yvith difficulty Poodle, Coodle, and Doodle restrained themselves. HoMoa Transcript. I din allon In .ntrla. The system carried out in Vienna for educating irirls is certainly wotlhy of notice. They are kept at their studies until they are lifteen years of Hi.-e. They tht n go through a course of teaching in the pantry an 1 the kitchen under soma member of the family, or sometimes un der traniet cooks, f.-r a year rr two. Thus they learn to do n eryt h i n g them selves and to l.noyv thevn.ue of thing long Ik fore tliey commence hen- keeping on their own account, and though they may never be re p-.ire ! to e a dinner, tiny bi.com- iadtgH -r.de'i' of cooks and scry.i'os. The A n-1 r an we-.i n :.re most nili ct ion ! ". . es a ad iuo h r-. d'hey-nre as n compli-. i -.1 .-n I hair : ,1 ,s ;.n l ac linh gOVclie'Ss. .-y. , u , ; ; , ., ; n j'ar- isi.,n, a i 1 i.vV -ti ae : ! ic i; nl
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers