Truth, He who has the truth and keeps it, Keeps what not to him belongs, But performs a selfish action, That his fellow mortal wrongs, He who seeks the truth and trembles At the dangers he must brave, 12 not fit to be a {freoman—- He at best is but a slave, He who bears the truth, and places Its high promptings under ban, Loud may boast of all that's manly, But can never be aman! - William D. Gallagher, The Comet, The comet! He is on his way, And singing as he flies; The whizzing planets shrink before The specter of the skies; Ah! well may regal orbs turn blue, And satellites tara pale, Ten million cubic miles of head, Ten billion leagues of tail. On, on by whistling spheres of light He flashes and he flames; He turns not to the left nor right, He asks them not thair names; One spurn from his demoniae heal Away, away they fly, Where darkness might be bottled up And sold for “Thyrian dye” And what would happen to the land, And how would look the sea, If in the bearded devil's path Our earth should chance to be? Full hot and high the sea would beil, Fall red the forests gleam; Methought I saw and heard it all In a dyspeptio dream! Isawa tutor take his tube, The comet's course to spy; I heard a scream, the gathered rays Had stewed the tutor's eye; I saw a fort—the soldiers all Were armed with goggles green; Pop cracked the guns! whiz flow the balls! Bang went the magazine, I saw a poet dip a soroll VOLUME XV, 00., or mm——— SA SS meme 23, 1882, he could not see what it was, His im pulse to fight was congquerad by its contact, however, for he guessed that it was the muzzle of a revolver, “Bring a lantern!" said the man who had captured Guy; and a light was produced almost immediately, But little was visible. The rain drops on the bran shone in the! light, and, having hung for a moment in brightness, dropped one by one the blackness; trees and a by stood | There wore the fence tral and shadowy as Guy saw In the center of the lighted space] there were two men besides Guy. Both | 3 0S into iit fence near several horses tied to | whiel 3 1 looked spec “Come on,” said both of them. in a breath to Guy; and one of them added: “Don’t you dare to holt a noise above a wi " The li it; a hand rested in anything but a gentle manner on each shoulder, and the philosophical singer was hurried away by his two strange captors, Guy Crawford was not frightened; he was surprised and startlad, but not frightened. He had little money with | him, no valuable jewels, only an old | watch, no papers. Robbery would be Each moment in a tab, 1 read upon the warning back, “The dream of Beelzebuh;" He could not see his verses burn, Although his brain was fried, And every now and then he bent To wet them as they dried. I saw the scalding pitch roll down The crackling, sweating pines, And streams of smoke, like waterspouts Burst through the rambling mines; I asked the firemen why they made Such noise about the town; They answered not—but all the while The brakes went up and down. I saw a roasting pallet sit Upon a baking egg; Isaw a eripple scorch his hand Extinguishing his leg; I saw nine geese upon the wing Toward the frozen pole, And every mother’s gosling fe'l Crisped to a crackling coal. I saw the ox that! Writhe in the The herbage Was all a flery al the grass in I saw huge fishes, boiled to rags Bob through the bubbling brine; And thoughts of supper crossed my soul; I had been rash at mine. i Oh, fear- Strange sights! fal dream! Its memory haunts me The steaming That wreathed each woo Stranger! if throvgh © Such midnight visions sweep 8 Spare, spare, oh spar I And sweet shal ' strange sounds! sea, the crin hy evening meal, thy sleep. —{liver Wendell Holmes. A STRANGE STORY. CHAPTER L “Then to take whatever the gods may send, Putting to scru and doubts an end, Is the sensible way to live, my friend.” So sang a clear voice, with more of nature than cultivation in it. Per- haps there was more of conviction and acquiescence in it than of music. Whether there be such a thing as “luck” or not, it is certain that care-| less Guy Crawford had found life very | good and the world very pleasant while taking “whatever the gods had sent” him. The scene was scarcely ealeulatad to stimulate one to musical efforts. Over- | head were the wet and drooping | branches of the trees, under foot the soaked soil, and all around the dreary | moan of the rain-laden wind. The rain had fallen all day long in | an almost silent torrent. As evening! came on it had lessened a little, while the wind had increased in power. The | world seemed now one dreary, vacant | realm of night and storm. But Guy Crawford, wet and weary, | cold and in darkness, alone and lost, | tramped sturdily on; and as he pressed | forward he sang, over and over again: | “ Then to take whatever the gods may send, Putting to scruples and doubts an end, i Is the sensible way to live, my friend.” Guy Crawford had left the little railroad station at noon. He expected his friend there to meet him, but he had been disappointed. Asking the | station-master for directions he set out on foot for his destination. It involved walking twenty miles ; but he said to himself that he liked walking. It rained ; but rain was better than heat and dust. Guy Crawford readily met each ob- | ection which came up in his mind. | is friend would send for his baggage, he said to himself ; his friend could | lend him dry clothes when he arrived ; | his friend would have a warm wel | come for him. Guy would have laughed at being | thought more than a moderately sen- sible young man. But the man who | let the brighter features of his past | and the dearer hopes of his future shut | down so near together in his mind as! to make the present almost unreal, | was a philosopher, whether he knew it | or not. i When night had fallen Crawford | realized that he was lost. He believed | it might be midnight now ; he could | only dimly discern objects about him ; | he had not seen a human face or a hu- | man habitation for hours. But he sang, nevertheless, as we have said, and in the song one side of | his character stood fully revealed. Guy | Crawford would take life cheerfully as | it came. He would not pause in a course which opened before him be- cause of doubts as to the end of it all. But, despite the debonair way in which he sang of putting scruples to an end, there was a strong undercur- rent of principle and honor in the course of this man’s life, for all the manifold ebbs and flows on the sur- face—ebbs and flows which ran to and fro with the varying impulses of cir- cumstances, or fate. Guy Crawford would have thought of no alternative. He would have said “fate” at once. He sang the three lines over again ; then muttered to himself : “That's all right ; but it is a very natural thing for one to ask himself why in the world Clinton was not at the station ?” Down the rainy gale ran his voice again : “Then to take whatever the gods may send, Putting—" “Stop your noise!” said a harsh voice at his elbow, and a heavy hand { nothing to him, He didn’t exactly welcome the curi- | ous episode in which he was taking an | involuntary part; but he thought of it | | in wonder, instead of fear, @ he had been singing ran iis mind—* Then to take gods may send” the full force of his position, regarded | as a ludicrous comment on the senti- { ment it expressed, burst upon him, | To have saved his life he couldn't have he langhed out loud! { “You infernal fool I” hissed one of the men in hi “This isn’t funny, even if you think so.” “1 know it,” answered Guy; “it's a very solemn and serious affair. But why don't you take my money and watch at once, and let me go?” “Wedon't want your m watch, man! We've money | watches enough ith helped it i S Car. and and hunt. this. want money ut eninge it suing “3 We such a1 we want is a man, py you | ile in a com- Fir} il § imbed a stile The dim light of the stormy night! was enough I indis- | tinct n Guy i nts and entered a headstone hour— K of a quarter of an 1 had but seemingly lon into w hat Guy i particularly desolate and nd retired place. i I F made & turn in an avenue * hedged with ever- scene lay before In of this desolate A half-dozen lanterns stood on the the trees. In and and handson was wrapped in heavily veiled. to her sides. 3 She stood in adeje toad near a large née monument. The woman K and was Ak were bound men a lone el a4 00g CIO Her arms ted attitude, lean- | ing against the monument, Guy Craw- | ford could believe she was crying from the way her head was bent; but her face was from even the slightest view. One old gray-haired man, with a frightened face, stood near her: his! hands, too, were bound. The rest of the men were free, were disguised, some of them with masks, and were as well-armed as the two who had cap- concealed One of the captors held Guy Craw- | the lighted space to the seemed to be the chief. The leader made an impatient movement, and] said something in a tone so low that no one but the men to whom he spoke | man who | The man answered in a louder tone: | “ Not the right man? How was I| to know? 1 wouldn't have supposed | more than one man would be tramp-| ing about the country on such a night except he was well paid for it. This | sense about ‘taking what the gods sent,” and we took him at his word, | you see, and tock him.” The leader laughed—a low, stifled | laugh it was; a laugh that was shut in by the disguise which covered his | face—but it showed that something had pleased him. He spoke again, and as low as be- fore; and the impatient man with him | answered : “He'll do, you say? I should hope so. Why, I wouldn't go hunting | through this black night for another | one for tiwee the pay you offer!” The leader spoke again and theman betore him nodded and turned away. gh for all to hear: “ Whoever fails to do what he is or-| dered to-night will not have a chance | to disobey orders again in this world!” To the woman he said: “You know this place? father’s grave.” Her head was bowed and remained | bent lower than before. He turned to the old man. “You know the girl? You preached at his funeral who lies here.” “1 know her. 1 knew him, are right,” he said. * * ¥ Morning again. but a break in the clouds low down in | the eastern sky almost lets the sun- | light through. { The party who have made the past | night a mystery are mounted now—all but Guy Crawford. The two cap- tives are captives still—he alone is free. The one who has been spokes- man during the night turns to him as they are ready to move off. “As our way Jied east this morn- | ing, yours lies west. You may go first, Never cross the path of any of us again, and be thankful in what the gods sent you last night there was hope for you. Be thankful for life this morning.” CHAPTER II. It is a beautiful jnorning. Fall has come, but it is not late. Many sum- mer tourists will linger at mountain and ocean for weeks yet. A young man walks along a narrow strip of sand. At his right is the ocean, smooth as the summer sea, free from the buffeting hands of the storm, ever becomes. At his left is a low line of cliffs, high in some places. They are scarcely more than twenty feet oppo- site him. We have thus far had only the It is your You x » | Rain still falling, was laid on his shoulder, “Stop your noise.” merest glimpse of this man. Looking ing, and with one paradox written on his mobile face—a puzzled look of care the of a carelessness which nature gave him when she endowed i the characteristics which make him what he is. We have heard more of him in the past than we have seen of him, us listen now, more thot we heard him something more than a 1 as then : in midst m with ‘Then take whatever the gods may send, utting to scruples and doubts an end, Is the sensible way to live, my “Goodness gracious The climax was not unnatural when one considers the A lady had oO the edee of the went Just as ho apposite her, Although steep the cliffs were not perpendicular, and Guy sprang forward and helped break the fall by catching the young lady in his anus, She was unconscious when he caught CAUSsH, Dear aver to him, and to present the ly down to the beach to her ald as her three cousins, Guy had done little—except act on the precept embodied in his favorite the sand but for him, and had on the way down, She had, however, or affected to gratitude, and truy Crawford always found a smile of side. To be with her became a habit, a The three cousins might look coldly at him; he never knew it. The woman never guessed it. His own heart might have startled his intelligence, but he Never any of these, until he stood rs In his hand, which was to have longer, must close. more day to remain, In the light of coming parting knew it all at last. “1 cannot £0, he said: #1 leave her! But I must.” He thought a little: then he said: “If I had only known Ishould have ago. For her peace and id have gone. 1 His vacation, lasted for a month 16 cannot Fane ang KU 1 Mig mine 1 BG | ® % * ¥ *® Miss Maude Walton waited longer than usual that evening for the custo- mary invitation for a walk along the felt that il he knew farewell hat, in Guy Crawford must be short, ar honesty, it must be hard. Together in they the moonlight night The gravest crisis in their lives stood before them. He co and hap walked along the sands. Id not know how much of life 3 lay within the reach of + put it forth in truth and honor. ould not guess how much the woman before him would shut back behind her lips and never utter, though the silence slew her heart, if a coward and a traitor sought what she might say. “I am going away to-morrow. I have received a telegram which makes it imperative.” “Yes,” she answered, with much the look that a heathen priestess might wear who found a flaw in the idol she served, But a look of faith in his truth came “Yes, I am going ; I ought to have gone before. 1 never knew—God help me !—until to-night that I loved you. I have been blind to my own heart. 1 must tell you 1 love you-—I do; but “You have not asked me to give “ No—nor shall I. I have no right “ A true woman would never let a “1 know it.” “I refused each of my cousins to- day.” “I am sorry. Since I can never win you for my wife I wish some noble man the good fortune which “One of my cousins is not a good man. One of them is as great a scoundrel as ever lived.” No man can be wholly bad who truly “ He doesn't love me, pretends he does.” “Merely pretends. I don’t under- I havea small an aunt; but my father's left with strange con- loved my cousins almost did ne. He wanted me “I'll explain to you. was He as well as he my Unless I marry one of them I lose my share, and it will be divided among Unless each asks me except for the reason that I am already en- Two of these men love me. One does “Perhaps so. I can scarcely say how low a man might fall. Which one is it?” A look of puzzled horror settled “I don't know which one and I Tm “ What do you mean ?" He came a step nearer, “Tell me why you have not asked me to be your wife, while you still say you love me, and I will tell you.” “You will not believe me. You will think I am a mere triflar.” “Tell me the truth, no matter how strange it is.” “Well, I will, Somewhere in the world I have a wife living. I never saw her, I never expect to know her. I married her one night at her father's grave, with a revolver at my head, She was closely veiled. My captors and hers were in disguise. 1 love you, but a minister married me to her. The rascals forced him to give her a regu- lar certificate; my name is in it. It is legally binding. I think it is even morally binding, since I chose it de- liberately rather than death.” “Guy Crawford, my name is in that certificate, too, and the certificate is in my pocket. One gf my cousins was the leader in that plot which robbed me of my fortune. God only knows which one of the three it was, except the coward hirelings who helped him. Had you tried to win my promise to F be your wife without owning to this, I should have carried my secret to my grave with nu tut 1 love you, and 1 have tried as hard as a woman modest iy may to win yon. 1 think 1 loved you ever when you became my husband, have sent you ¥ CHAPTER 111, Our closing scene is five years later The marriage which had taken place in that rainy night had mented by another ceremony—a happy one this time, The guilty f confessed man has other two tored the money that the young wife should justly have, i evening, just told the we i self and her audience of ni a his crime. I'he cousins have re mnderful story of her husband to an i and friends, A naturid question suggests self,” say a half L0G degrees it emits red rays; at 1,200 4 5, orange rays; at 1,300 degrees, ow rays; at 1,600 degrees, blue rays; at 1,700 de grees, indigo rays, and at 2,000 degrees, violet rays, In warm-blooded animals the heart's action ceases in a very few minutes after the destruction of the nervous centers, or after the circulation of the blood in its own vessels is by any means arrested. Not so with cold- blooded animals, however, as the heart of one of them may continue to beat for many hours after it has been emptied of blood, and even after it has been cut out of the chest, The pulsa- tions of the heart of an eel have been seen to continue for six hours after separation from the rest of the body; of a torpedo, for nine hours; and of a salmon, for twenty-four hours, WISE WORDS, It issad but true that we can silence our conscience easier than our de sires, Genius makes its observations in shorthand; talent writes them out at length, No accusation should be advanced except upon proof suflicient to sus tain it, The best ce for env an- other's merit is to endeavor to sur- pass it. He who selects his companions with care is more likely to make unto him- self faithful friends. Every one must see daily instances of people who complain from a mere habit of complaining. While we retain the power of render- ing service and conferring favors we seldom experience ingratitude, The mind and memory are more sharply exercised in comprehending another man’s things thaa our own, If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess there would not be much envy in the world. A more glorious victory cantiot. that when the injury began on his part the kindness should begin on ours, What an argument in favor of social connection is the observation that by communicating our grief we have less and by communicating our pleasure we have more. A word—a look, which at one time which, with its own natural force would scarce have reached the object aimed at. HEALTH HINTS, Hemorrhage of the lungs or stomach is promptly checked by small doses of salt. The patient should be kept as quiet as possible. For a scald or burn, apply immedi- ately pulverized charcoal and oil Lamp oil will do, but linseed is better. The effect is miraculous. For chapped lips mix two table spoonfuls of clarified honey, with a few drops of davender water or any other perfume, and anoint the lips fre- quently. To remove warts, get a little bul lock's gall and keep it in a bottle; rub a little on the warts two or three times a day and in a short time they will disappear. Don’t sleep in a draught; don’t goto bed with cold feet, and don’t eat what youdo not need just to save it, are notes of warning sounded by Dr Foote's Health Monthly. Charcoal forms an unrivaled p tice for wounds and old sores. It is also invaluable for what is called roud flesh. Itisa disinfectant. i sweetens the air if placed in shal. low dishes around the ent, and foul water is also purified by its use, For bruises or Sprains bathe the part in cold water until you get ready a de- coction of wormwood and vinegar. When the herb is fresh gathered pound the leaves, wet with vinegar, and bind on, and when the herb is dry put it in the vinegar and let it boil a short time; then bathe the bruise with the decoction and bind on the herb, A Practical Joke, Miss Van Zandt, the American prima donna, who has won such envi- able honors in Paris, was lately the heroine of a little comedy at the Musee Cris She wen to has 2 mous gallery of wax figures with her I some friends, and, seeing a vacant niche draped with red cur- tains, in a room where there were no other visitors than her own party, slipped into it, gave her friends an ad- monitory glance, and sat still. The curtains were drawn so that only her bust and head were visible. soon visitors thronged in. “See,” said one, “there is a new figure, Mlle. Van Zandt, What a good likeness!” A group gathered round, expressing, some admiration, others disapproval, the fair singer meanwhile keeping perfectly still. At last a languid, supercilious and altogether superior lady came along, viewed the dainty features, fair locks and sparkling eyes and then said: “So this is Mlle. Van Zandt, is it? Quite pretty, but no like- ness, I never would have ed it if I hadn't been told—" and then the supposed wax figure burst into a merry of laughter, sprang from the niche and tripped away amid the astonishment and chagrin of the eritic and the applause of the crowd. The