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SECOND PART.
THE
PAGES 9 TO 12. : v : i
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'REVEALED
BY J. MABSDBN SUTOUPFB,
BEING ONE OF "A SEBIES OF SHORT STORIES ENTITLED
fiTHE BOMANCE
MBased Upon Passages
'tft WEBBER, Formerly General Manager
ALL BIGHTS
W A glorious afternoon in summer. The
fierce rap of an August sun are tempered
Jfiby a light cool breeze 'which goes whisper
, "'ing through the heavily laden bows of a
prime orchard adjoining "a Somersetshire
farmhouse, scarcely lifting the brown leaves
ss it passes.
In a hammock, slung from the branches
of a wi3e-spreading apple tree bending be
neath its weight of golden fruit, Gerald
Latour lies idly lounging, with his magnifi
cent dark eyes, so lustrous in their shining
and so dreamy in their unfathomable depths,
intently fixed on the form of a young girl of
20, who is seated near him on a camp-stool
industriously plying her needle, with her
blushing tface half hidden as she bends
more closely over her work to hide her con
fusion. A very pleasant picture for the eye to rest
upon amid such surroundings is Netta
Dean, with her clear cut profile, her smooth,
fair brow and arched eyebrows, her deli
cately cut nostrils and the rounded outlines
of her cheeks, with as pretty a rosebud for a
mouth as ever invited a lover's kisses. Her
flaxen hair, which waves naturally, is fas
tened up behind in thick plaits, suggestive
of unusual length. The light muslin dress
she wears, cut somewhat loose to the figure,
cannot wholly conceal the sweeping curves
of a finely molded form, for, though a rustic
beauty slightly built, Netta Dean's joyous
life, happily free from care hitherto, has
tended, with her upbringing and wholesome
faring, to perfect the symmetry of a lovely
figure. Add to this eyes of sapphire blue
with a look of wondrous innocence and
trustfulness and the picture is complete.
And yet the little lady holds her head in
such a queenly fashion and there comes at
times such an air of resolution round her
pretty mouth that only a superficial ob
server would fail to perceive that, gentle
and confiding though her disposition is, she
is not the woman to put up with a slight or
meekly bear an injury.
Her companion would attract attention
anywhere by his handsome, commanding
presence, for nature has given Gerald La
tour a noble exterior, which has alreadv
played sad havoc on the hearts of women
less susceptible to manly beauty than Netta
Dean's. Gerald is tall, well made, with tbe
frame of a young athlete. His dark com
plexion d'ark even to swarthiness is
brightened by a glow of warm color that
burns beneath his skin, which, with his
lustrously dark eyes and a curling beard of
jet black, carefully trimmed to a point,
gives him the appearance of a handsome
brigand or a Spanish gypsy, according to
the point whence he is regarded. Thar he
is a handsome man is undoubted. The
w lassie regularity of his features would alone
, edeem his face from the commonplace,
he warm blood of the sunny South inher
ed from distant ancestors circulates in his
ins, and is perhaps partly responsible for
t luxury of his disposition. For Gerald
-our, it must be confessed, is a Sybarite.
Jote Farm, of which Gerald Latour has
nan inmate for two; months past, lies
filing under the befriending shadow of
jroiantock hills. Very proud is Farmer
DetWto have such an inmate in his house.
Truef Gerald Latour is no "prince in dis
guise." He is simply a city tradesman who
came to Cote to find health and strength
again in the balmy Somersetshire air, and,
though doing a large business as an Italian
warehouseman in Great Chester street in the
city, he is not very much lifted above the
social scale occupied by the Deans, though
they are reported as a primitive people.
But Mr. Dean is proud of his guest, proud
because of his flow or animal spirits and his
fund of information, proud, too, because of
what Cote farm has done him, seeing that
he came to them like a shadow, worn down
with illness, and has now beoome a -shining
example of what fresh country air, whole
some living, early hours, and the peaceful
occupations of a country life can accomplish
for an invalid. But he is most proud of all
because Gerald Latour is his son's first pa
tient, and owes his life to Maurice Dean's
unremitting skill ana care.
It is seven years ago since Mrs. Dean
passed away, leaving behind her two chil
dren, Netta, Whom the reader has seen, and
Maurice, who claims a word or two of in
troduction. It was a sore blow -to Farmer
Dean when his only son declared one day, in
the astonished hearing of the old man, that
he would not be a farmer and that he would
be a doctor. "It's that eddication I gave
thee that has spoiled 'ee'" the old man cried
in his vexation. "I towd t'mother how it
would be. Nothing good comes of eddica
tion." But Mr. Dean had ever been an indulgent
father to hit children, and when he found
that the lad's heart was set on his profession,
he gave way reluctantly, but with many
grumblings at "that eddication that has
done it all." Maurice Dean had just com
pleted his medical studies and had started
in practice for himself near Great Chester
street when the wheel of fortune threw him
in the way of Gerald Latour, who had never
known a day's illness in his life, was sud
denly stricken down with typhoid fever,
and the young surgeon had been called
in. There were other doctors near, but
Latour had not needed the services of a
physician before, and he had no one about'
him capable of discriminating between the
rival merits of the neighboring doctors.
Maurice Dean happened to be the nearest,
and to this circumstance alone his presence
was owing., "Whether the same confidence
would have been reposed in his skill if it
had been known that Gerald Latour was
the doctor's first patient may be considered
doubtful.
It was a difficult and complicated case,
bnt Maurice Dean, who had a genuine en
thusiasm for his profession and was alive to
the importance of not allowing his first case
to slip through his fingers, and of the lift it
would be to his reputation to succeed in
pulling his patient through, left no stone
unturned to achieve success. Bydint ot his
own incessant attention, watching all the
phases of tbe malady and superintending
the nursing, together with Gerald's splendid
constitution, he contrived to pull his patient
throngh, though this Involved many a
night's weary watching, when the tiny flick
ering flame of life burnt lower and threat
enedto vanish outright.
"I owe my life to you," Gerald cried
thankfully, when he was pronounced con
valescent "Yon must not say that," said Maurice
Dean modestly. "You have your own fine
constitution to thank for your escape."
"That may be," said Gerald; "but a fine
constitution' would have served me little if
I had not possessed in you a skilful physi
cian and a kind friend. I shall never for
get my obligation to yon neverl I owe
you my life, as I have said before."
"Iff were superstitious you would make
me uncomfortable," Maurice Dean replied.
"We have a saying down in our parts that
if you save a man's life you are sure to re
ceive some terrible injury from him."
"And where may your parts be?" asked
Gerald.
The young doctor dilated on the beauties
of Somtrsetshire, and the delightful .im-
puciix ot cis rural home unaer the unan-
tock nilli, nnttl he infected Latour with
so' ethinz of his own enthusiasm. Gerald
by this time ready.' for change of air and
K
,
BY FIRE;
OF A2T INSURANCE OFFICE,,
nr the Experience or Mb. AUGUSTUS "WILLIAM
of the Universal Insurance Company.
RESERVED.
scene to complete the workof convalescence,
and, learning from Maurice Dean that tbe
Deans had occasionally received summer
visitors, delicately broached the suggestion
whether he might be so fortunate as to find
a temporary home at Cote Farm. Dean
took the suggestion in good part, and
though he was sensible of the danger of in
troducing a handsome stranger beneath the
roof that sheltered his guileless sister Netta,
he consented to write home and inquire if
his people could conveniently entertain an
invalid with what result the reader already
knows.
Very happy had those two months been to
Netta Dean, during which Gerald Latour's
stay at Cote farm had lasted. The circle
of Netta's acquaintances was necessarily a
restricted one. Since she had left the board
ing school at Taunton, where she had been
sent for her education, she had not left Cote
Farm. The sons and daughters of the
neighboring farmers comprised her little
world, and though the lads were honest and
brave, they were rough in their ways, and
in no respect corresponded with the ideal
man of Netta's day dreams.
The stranger had not been many daysin
the house before Netta began to make com
parisons between him and tbe men of her
acquaintance, very much to the disadvan
tage of the latter. Gerald bore all the out
ward insignia of a well-to-do, middle-class
gentleman, with a good deal of savoir faire.
He was well read in general literature, and
with a bright and sprightly wit he con
trived, as soon as he began to regain his
strength, to make the days pass very pleas
antly to Netta, who often wondered how
she had borne her existence before he broke
in upon 'Jhe peaceful flow of her life "vege
tating," Gerald called it and how she
would endure it when the time came for La
tour's departure.
It is rarely possible for a maiden to occupy
her mind with thoughts of the man who has
stolen her heart away without betraying the
secret which she jealously seeks to guard.
Netta had an uncomfortable habit of blush
ing, and often as she encountered Latour,
the tell-tale signal would convey to the
quick eyes of the man everything that poor
Netta songht to hide.
Latour's vanity was touched at these
signs, which he knew so well how to read,
and before long he had drawn from Netta
the confession of her love. How far mat
ters had progressed between them on this
August afternoon must now be told.
"Netta," Latour was saying, "have you
thought over what I was saying last night?"
Netta confessed that slie had, and, bend
ing her blushine face over her ""work, plied
her needle more diligently.
"You se"e, dear, I would notask it of you,"
resumed Latour, "only my uncle, to whom
I owe everything, has so completely set his
mind on my marrying my cousin Helen that
he would withdraw hisjiapital from my bus
iness and cut me out of his will if he knew
that I even as much as thought of marrying
anyone else. That is a sacrifice I could not
afford to make for your sweet sake. There
will be little Nettas to provide for by-and-bye,
you know."
At this remark Nettl blushed more tIo.
Iently than before, and she bent her head
still lower over her work.
"Give me my own way in this one thing,
Netta," Latour continued, "and you f ball
have your way forever afterward. Lin up
your head, my pretty one, and let me see
your face."
But Netta did not comply with this re
quest, and presently something 'like a sob
broke from her. Gerald cautiously came
down from his hammock fearing an ugly
tumble if he moved hastily and approach
ing where Netta was sitting, threw Mb
arm around her, and asked her with pas
sionate concern he knew so well how to as
sume, ""What is the matter, Netta, dar
ling?" "I cannot do this. A private marriage,
unknown to my father and to mv brother
Maurice! What would they think?" asked
Netta in low, pleading tones.
Latour had an answer readv to lull Netta's
dutiful Tears to rest He painted in mora
vigorous language than any he had hitherto
fait it necessary t6 employ the certainty of
his uncle's anger and the dire results which
would result if once the news of his
nepnews marriage leaked out and reached
his Uncle Marchant's ears, and wound up
by declaring that in a very little time
Netta, if she would consent to give way on
this point, should return to Cote Farm and
make her marriage known to her father.
"So long as my uncle thinks I am not
married," Latour explained, "he will be
contented. Helen does not care for me, and
all that is wanted is a little time for her to
find a suitor more to her mind, and I shall
be free to do as I like. Only until then do
I ask that our marriage be kept secret."
But Netta's objections-were not silenced
yet. Latour had still another argument in
reserve.
"You do not love me, Netta," he cried,
or not at alL Surely you can see that. If i
cannot obtain my uncle's consent to my
marriage with you" and that is impossible
and you will not marry' me quietly we can
not be matried at all, and we must part for
years perhaps forever, who knows?"
No sooner was this vision conjured up be
fore Netta's mind than her courage began to
give way. There had been a traitor in the
camp even while Netta held out against
Latour's pleading. Her own heart, which
had passed entirely out ot her keeping, had
seconded all Gerald's pleadings, and now,
when bis arguments overpowered her reason
and she saw nothing before her except years
of weary waiting for the man she loved, or,
worse still, a lifelong severance, Netta's
resolution gave way, and she consented to
steal from the home where she had tasted a
full cup of happiness and plunge herself
into the unknown depths of on. untried ex
perience, trusting and confiding in the love
of the man who had won all her heart.
Latour returned to town a few days later,
and a week afterward came back to the
neighborhood of Cote Farm by stealth. The
morning after he journeyed down to Somer
setshire Netta was missing.
She had gone, leaving no trace behind
her nothing but one short note saying that
she would come back again very soon, and
then she would tell her dear father every-
tning.
Farmer Dean gazed at Netta's note with
dazed eyes, like one stupefied. His Netta
gonel Stolen away like a thief in the night!
Gone, without a word of explanation or a
moment given to farewell! He could not
believe it It was too terrible. But there
was the letter, and, alas, there was no Netta
to brighten Cote Farm with her presence and
her merry laughter.
Would he ever see her face or hear her
laughter again? he wondered.
LT.
Msurice Dean, who went down to Somer
setshire on hearing news of his sister's dis.
appearance, was sorely perplexed to un
ravel the mystery of Netta's flight He
sharply questioned the farm-servants at
Cote, but Gerald Latour had conducted his
love-making with so much circumspection
that the servants, who are usually the first
to indulge in suspicion, had not observed
anything to lead thern, to suppose that any
love-makings had been going on between
yonng mistress and the handsome
The circumstance that a week had
een Gerald's departure from
d Netta's .flight also told in
. Vt -.
JsssssBI"e-mBMii-gaai --"- fp.jtftfjKj.-, .--trwiHr- -i if -inr - v'- i .!,,. "
Latour's favor, so that when he was ap
proached on the subject and frankly de
clared he knew nothing of the matter,
Maurice Dean declared himself satisfied
with the denial, and directed, his inquiries
elsewhere.
But two years passed, and still there was
no news of Netta. For a long time Far
mer Dean and his son prosecuted their in
quiries, hoping against hope. At last hope
died away, and the quest was abandoned,
and the old Somersetshire farmer entered
into the bitterness of Jacob's lot when the
plaint was wrung out of the anguish of his
soul, "Evil hath happened to my son."
Meanwhile Netta was living in a little
cottage at Willesden, happy on the whole,
though inwardly chafing at the secrecy
which her husband continued to impose,
and fretting as she pictured to .herself the
distress that her hasty and unexplained de
parture from Cote, and her long silence,
must have occasioned her father and her
brother Maurice. Sometimes she would
take her housekeeper, Mrs. Coppock, a
worthy, respectable woman, into her confi
dence and complain of the hardship of her
position.
"It is too bad," she would say, "when I
am so happy with my husband and mv two
little ones, that I cannot even write home
and let them know that I am safe." At
such times Mrs. Coppock would sympathize
with Mrs. Latour and soothe her with assur
ances that Mr. Latour must soon set her free
from her promise to him and allow her to
Sut her triends out of their long suspense,
etta rarely broached the subject to her
husband. She had only seen Gerald angry
on.ee, and she could never forget it. It was
the last time that she had ventured to urge
him -to allow her to go down to Cote Farm
and tell her father everything and give him
ocular demonstration of her welfare. Ger
ald curtly refused and reminded her of her
promise to keep their marriage secret
But Netta, who bad been thinking much
of her old home that day, and of the old man
left desolate by her flight, was determined
to persevere despite the chilling reception
she had met with. But to her further re
quest that she might be permitted to write
to her father, Gerald replied more angrily,
and when she asked that he would himself
take Maurice into their confidence, his
anger broke loose, and Gerald's handsome
gypsy face became transfigured with pas
sion. It was an awful revelation, that out
burst of wrath, to the poor wife. For the
first time she discovered what a volcano of
tempestuous passions lurked beneath his
debonnair exterior which she had never sus
pected, and fear blended with her lovo for
him. She resolved never to allude to the
subject again, but to wait and bide his time
for making the disclosure for which poor
Netta's heart ached.
"Let us have no snore of this," Gerald
exclaimed, passionately, clenching his de
mand with a loud oath that fell with terri
fying effect on the ear of the loving-hearted
woman. "They shall know in good time.
And remember that if you ever show your
face in Great Chester street, you will rue it
to the last day of your life. That would 1
mean ruin for us both."
Netta had one other cross at this time.
Latour's visits home had latterly become
less frequent than she had known them.
The premises in Great Chester street con
tained one small sitting room and a bed
chamber, which Gerald had occupied in his
bachelor days, and which he occasionally
used after his marriage, pleading the neces
sities of his business when he failed to re
turn home to his wife. More frequently
than before Latour begfln absenting himself
from the cottage at Willesden, always con
triving, however, to hinder suspicion from
springing into Netta's mind by affirming
that "business was going to the dogs," and
he must stay in town and work late.
it was true that Gerald Latour's business
was, as he pithily expressed it, "going to the
dogs ;" partly on account of Latour's inat
tention to his affairs, and partly, from the
withdrawal of large sums of money from
the concern, which he took to indulge in
his gambling propensities. The evenings
that he spent away from the cottage at
Willesden were passed either in a gambling
hell or in sighing at the feet of Helen Mar
chant, and breathing love "vows in her ear.
Sometimes, too, in more shameful occupa
tions which would have broken Netta's
heart if the good had not been kind to her,
and hidden Gerald's midnight revels from
Netta's eves.
An accident revealed to Netta how hollow
the ground was on which she was standing.
She was engaged in brushing a coat which
her husband had been wearing, and on turn
ing out the pockets, discovered a bnlkv let
ter written in a remarkably clear and firm
hand, indisputably the handwriting of a
woman, as her first glance told her. A sick
ening sense of fear crept into Netta's heart
as she turned over the letter again and again
in her hand. But her face flushed hot with
anger, and her fine nostrils dilated with
wounded pride, as her breath came quicker
at the unexpected revelation of her hus
band's perndy which the letter contained.
Her husband? It was not clear to her
that Gerald Latour was her husband, and
that she was an honest wife, when she had
had time to master the contents of the
letter. The communication, which bore the
signature of Helen Marchant, was filled
with the warm outpouring of a woman's
heart spoke of her coming marriage with
Gerald Latour, and described the prepara
tions she was engaged in making for the
great event in her life.
Utterly overwhelmed by the discovery,
Netta remained a long time in abject
misery, too numbed to feel, too dazed to
think. Bit by bit the suspicion grew in her
mind mat sne naa Deen Shamefully de
ceived by a bogns marriage. There was one
other alternative that her husband, relying
on her continued silence as to their secret
marriage, was bent on tricking his cousin
into a marriage that was no marriage if her
own was a valid one. "When this grew clear
to her she roused herself out of the state of
apathy and tearless misery into which she
had fallen, to think out and decide what
to do.
The revelation had killed at a stroke the
guileless simplicity and girlish confidence
which had characterized all her previous re
lationship with her husband. She was a
girl no longer, to be silenced with kisses or"
to be put down with a display of unseemly
anger. She sprang into existence in au
hour a woman! a woman scorned and
wronged! a woman who had her own rights
as a wife to defend, and the legitimacy of
her offspring to make good if she could!
It seemed to her as if years had passed since
her dream of security was so rudely shaken,
and that she had redoubled her thinking
powers in tbe brief interval which had
elapsed.
How was she to set about her task? Ger
ald hid often spoken of his cousin Helen to
Nettal And bits of bygone conversation re-
currea.to her memory now. Putting these j
PITTSBTJRG, SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1889.
fragments of conversation together,- she
gathered conrage from the sum of the im
pression they left upon her mind after reflec
tion. Helen Marchant was a good woman
who must not be wronged, who would prove
her friend in her hour ot bitter, sore need,
and who would insist on justice being done
to her and her children. If there were
shame to hide, Helen would help her to hide
it If wrong had been dons which admitted
of a reparation, however tardy and poor,
Helen would not suffer that act of repara
tion to be left unperformed. Yes! she would
appeal to Helen. She would write to her
and tell her the story of those happy months
at Cote Farm, when Gerald Latour stole her
heart away, of her marriage, and the happy
time since, marred only by the fatal con
cealment and the trouble that must have
been occasioned to loving hearts in the old
farmhouse in Somersetshire. And then she
would tell "her of the discovery she had made
that day, and beg her assistance to vindicate
her cause.
The letter occupied a long time to write,
but it was done at last She hastened to put
on her bonnet and Cloak, aud went put.
Late that evening Netta stood with beating
heart before the business premises of ber
husband in Great Chester street The doors
were closed and fastened for the night, but
there was a light feeblv burning in one of
the upstairs rooms, and a more brilliant
light in the basement. She beat with her
knuckles on the door, and after an interval
there was a sound within as of the shooting
back of bolts and taking down of bars, and
at length the door was opened and her hus
band stood on the threshold with a look of
amazement on his face, as though he had -j
seen an apparition.
Without pausing to enable him to recover
from his astonishment she passed within,
and the door closed behind her.
III.
Some five months elapsed after Mrs.
Latour paid her late visit to Great Chester
street, when, soon after midnight in Febru
ary, the inhabitants of that neighborhood
were aroused from sleep by the cry of
"Fire!"
There was a hurrying of
street as the crowd, hastily
feet along the
gathered, sped
to the spot Smoke was seen issuing through
the roof of Gerald Latour's warehouse in
small puffs, and, slowly wreathing them
selves, melting away into the murky atmos
phere of a winter's night Denser volumes
Of smoke were seen issuing from the crevices
of the doors on the basement, while the red
dened glow visible at these points showed
clearly enough that the flames had obtained
a firm hold upon the lower portion of the
premises.
The excited crowd, Which the policeman
on the beat had much difficulty in keeping
back until the arrival of reinforcements and
the fire engines, had barely time to note
these particulars, when a dull heavy sound
as of an explosion fell on their ears, to be
followed at intervals by another, and yet
another. The crowd.fell back, less to give
way to the firemen as they came on the
scene with their engines than to escape the
danger from falling tiles and slates. A hole,
had been rent in the roof by the last explo
sion through which immense volumes of
smoke now poured, as from the throat of a
burning crater, followed by huge showers of
sparks. In a moment the upper rooms were
lurid with flame through the admission of air
from the root, and there was the sound of
shivering glass as the flames burnt more
fiercely, and the window panes cracked into
a thousand pieces, broken by the burning
heat.
There was no hope of saving the building,
looking to tbe immense amount of highly
combustible materials stored on the premises,
and the energies of the lire brigades that Iiro
been brought tdgether on the scene were
directed to minimising the danger which
threatened the adjoining properties. Sud
denly, when the first excitement was at its
height, some one roared out torn the crowd,
"Where is Mr. Latour? Is he in the
building?"
It was known that Mr. Latour often slept
there, and anxiety was naturally felt lest
he should have remained there that night,
and been stifled by the smoke Without op
portunity to escape. But no one could tell
what had become of Mr. Latour, though one
here and another there among tbe crowd
were heard to testify that they had seen a
light burning in Mr. Latour's sitting room
upstairs not more than two hours ago.
"If Mr. Latour is in the building," cried
one of the firemen, seeking to allay the ex
citement which tbe ouervhad aroused, "he
Lisa dead man by this time. No man could
be In that building and live. i
The firemen worked hard that night,
strenuously assisted by the eager crowd of
helpers who were permitted to take their1
part in diminishing the danger that threat
ened the homes of many of them, but from
the time of tbe arrival of the engines it was
too clear that the building was doomed, and
that nothing could save it. Happily, the
extension ot the fire was checked; but all
danger was not over until the bnlldine was
completely gutted from the basement to the
roof, which had fallen in with a crash, fill
ing the air with sparks and dust and smoke,
which drove bock crowd and firemen alike.
Through the long night the brigade men.
many of them with scorched- hands ana
blackened and blistered faces, continued at
their task, pouring water from the engines
on the smoking ruins and heated walls, un
til as the sun rose the hot steam rose in large
volumes and hung over the site where
Gerald Latour's business premises had once
stood, like a mimic cloud spreading itself
out to the sky, until broken up by the
breeze it was carried off.
Among the first to arrive next morning
was Joe Gillett, Latour's head warehouse
man, who was followed shortly afterward by
Gerald himselfT All doubts respecting La
tour's safety were set at rest by his visible
appearance in the flesh, and a sense of re
lief was experienced by his neighbors on
Ealpaole evidence being afforded them that
e, at any rate, had not perished in the ill
fated building.
Nothing could exceed the look of surprise
on Joe Gillett's face when be saw the
smouldering ruins, from which columns of
hot steam were rising, unless it was the look
of blank wonderment and consternation on
Latour's face. Gerald wrung his handB and
cursed in his anger the malign fate that had
placed an arresting hand on his business en
terprise. Asked to explain the origin of the
fire he declined to express nn opinion.
"That must be a matter for inquiry by the
proper authorities," he replied,
"Was he insured?" a sympathetic neigh
bor inquired.
"Yes," with the Uuiversal,"he'answered;
"but far betow the value. The loss to me
is irreparable. I am not only a heavv loser
from the fire, bnt, worst of all, it stops my
business for weeks and months, and I had
sany good things on hand."
.Vas there any gunpowder on the prem
ises? 'asked Captain Barnes, the head of
the fire brigade.
"Ask Gillett here; he can fell you better
than I. I think not"
Gerald". Latour was insured, as he said,
with the Universal, and lost no time in
calling upon Mr. Webber to acquaint him
who toe disaster, xne fire involved tbe in
surance society in a heavy loss, as Latour
was insured for 25,000. Mr. Webber fol
lowed the usual office rule in such matters
and sent down Mr. Doggett, his private in
quiry agent, to. institute an investigation on
behalf of the Universal into the origin of
the Great Chester street fire.
The heat emanating from the smouldering
ruins was so great that a close Inspection 'of
the premises was Impossible, not only for
that day, but for several days to come.
Doggett, however, madearough preliminary
inspection, and a rude drawing of the in
terior of the building as it stood after the
fire, carefully marking out in his sketch tbe
various heaps of debris for future examina
tion. He picked up odd bits ot information
while in pursuit of his task, learning, among
other things, that while the premises were
what is known as "lock-up" premises, Mr.
Latour had frequently been in the habit of
sleeping there, and that as late as 11 o'clock
on the night of the fire, according to com
mon report, he had been seen either entering
orleavmg the premises.
It is the business of an inquiry agent in
cases of fire, especially fires involving large
money losses, to protect the interests of his
employers from incendiary frauds, aud
-Doggett at once pricked up his ears like a
young terrier on tbe scent at this piece or
information. There might be nothing in
the report, even if it were true and its
trnth Doggett had yet to learn bnt, at any
rate, it was his business, to inquire, and to
take nothing on trust
He first endeavored to trace out the origin
of the rumor that declared that Mr. Latour
had been seen on the spot within a short
time of the breaking out of the fire. One
of the constables informed him that persons
in the crowd had expressed themselves
alarmed for Mr. Latour's safety, and had
declared that they had seen htm, and he
nimseit baa at nrst shared their tears.
"These must be neighbors, of course,"
Dozgett reflected. "We shall soon find
out" A few inquiries carried him to all
the information that was likely to be forth
coming on that point. Mr. Latour had not
been seen but a light had been noticed by
several persons burning in the room usually
occupied by Mr. Latour, when he slept at
Great Chester street, at 11:15. The con
stable on tbe beat supplied the information
that at 11:45 there was no light burning in
the room, nor did he perceive any smell of
fire. The fire was discovered by the con
stable when he passed that way again on his
rounds, which would be half an hour later
12:15.
It narrowed itself to this then, that some
person was on the premises as late as 11:15,
and in Mr. Latour s room, too, and who, it
was conceivable, might have remained On
the scene to within a few moments of the
time when the constable passed the door at
11:45 and found all right In that case,
though the origin ot the fire might be traced
to perfectly innocent causes, as for instance
to carelessness on the part of tbe last person
to quit the premises in putting out the light,
there was room for the plav of suspicion as
to a possible incendiary act
"Did you meet anyone on the street as
you came along?" Doggett asked of the
constable.
But no. the constable had had the street
to himself. It was a particularly-quiet
street, he explained, at that hour of the
night. Later on, when the publio houses
disgorged their visitors at closing time, he
might have encountered a good many per
sons whose way- homo lay along Great
Chester street, but as it happened he met no
one.
. "Not Mr. Latour?" asked Doggett
No, not even Mr. Latour. The constable
was one of several "witnesses who was pre
pared to swear to the fact of the gaslight
being turned on at full in Mr. Latour's
room at 11:15, and he supposed that Mr.
Latour was staying there that night, and
bid gone to bed when he passed ata quarter
before midnight. Doggett felt that a good
deal would turn on the explanation that Mr.
Latour might be able to give of the light
burning in his room at that late hour, and
upon the character of Mr. Latour's explana
tion would hinge the question whether it
would be necessary to ask him to account
for his movements that night But the de
tective was not the man to act precipitately.
Further inquiries into the mystery
of the burning light in Mr. Latour's room
could very well be held over until an exam
ination of the premises had been made.
As soon as the embers, which continued
to smoulder many days, had cooled down,
Doggett, assisted by the police and a capi
tal salvage corps, took possession of the gut
ted building, and began his examination of
the debris. The building was a mere shell
of blackened walls bearing the impress of
the scorching blaze to which they had been
subjected. Happily, nowever, the walls,
though tottering in places, threatened no
immediate danger, and after they had been
well shored up with timber where they ap
peared weak, the inspection could be at-
teniptedrwithout risk.
The examination had not proceeded very
far before the detective came across unmis
takable signs of gunpowder. Doggett was
keen-scented, and could not easily be led
into the blunder of confounding tbe differ
ence in the smell lrom fire and that from
gunpower. The discovery was important.
Gerald Latour, when questioned by Cap
tain Barnes, the head of the fire brigade, was
unable to saywhether there was gunpowder
on the premises or hot, and hnd referred
Captain Barnes to his man, Joe Gillett
Gillett, on being questioned on the point,
had "declared that there was no gunpowder
on the premeses, and when asked how he
accounted for three successive explosions
that had startled the crowd, confessed his
ignorance, unless it was the bursting Of the
gas pipes.
Bnt when the debris began to be cleared
away the matter was placed beyond all dis
pute. Under n great heap of rubbish,
though not buried deep, since portions of
the roof slate, tiles and timber were
found with it, was discovered a small keg
of gunpowder. The supposition was fir-'
rived at that the top floor hod been carried
nway before the tlamesV had reached this
small barrel of explosive, a guess that was
confirmed by other signs discovered still
later.
But there were graver elements of sus
picion behind. Though it was made plain
by the frightful havbc wrought by the
flames that combustible elements had been
placed with great skill, the same cool judg
ment had not been applied all alone the
line. Buried beneath the heaps of rubbish
there was gradually brought to light large
bundles of tow, soaked in inflammable oils,
and other indications of a criminal attempt
to fire the premises, which had succeeded
only too well, but not without leaving in
criminatory testimony behind.
While these discoveries were beiug made,
Doggett was not idle in other directions.
He instituted On inquiry into Mr. Latour's
private life, and collected a number of
proofs which went to show that at the out
break of the fire Mr.Latour was in a po
sition of serious embarrassment. He fer
retted out his gambling habits, and the
heavy Bums that he staked nd lost at bac
carat. He wormed his way until he learnt
that tbe timely discovery of his marriage,
at the time when he was paying his ad
dresses to his cousin Helen Marchant, had
lost him the hand of n rich heiress, and per
manently alienated his uncle, who had in
sisted on withdrawing his capital from the
business, which he had himself built tip
and given to his nephew.
There was matter enough in this to sus
tain Doggett in his next step. Armed with
a warrant signed by the presiding alderman
at the Mansion House he arrested Latour
and Joe Gillett on s charge of incendiarism
with Intent to derraud the Universal Insur
anceCo. Doggett bad prepared Jila case to well that
after an exhaustive magisterial inquiry both
prisoners were committed to stand their trial
at tbe next sessions of the Central Criminal
Conrt
It would have been well for Gerald La
tour if he had had no more terrible accusa
tion to meet But there was worse behind,
and Nemesis was walking swiftly at the
heels of the doomed man.
To be concluded next Saturday. ,'
A DBEA1T OP GOLD.
Bow a
Quarter With a Bole la It Wii
Found Alter Many Years.
AngnsUUe.) New Age.1
In 18G8 Lizzie M. Trask, of Vienna, was
dressmaking in Lewiston. She came into
possession of a gold 25-cent piece with a hole
in it; this she showed as a curiosity to her
friends. At that time she had a little niece 2
years old, daughter of Jonathan P. Trask,
now the wife of Leman Butler, trader in Mt.
"Vernon. Thfc little coin Lizzie once showed
to her niece Addie, when she was a very
small girl, telling her that she would give
it to her when she was old enough to take
care of it. Lizzie died 12 years ago. In her
possession was a good ladies' wallet with
several compartments. This wallet her
mother used until her death seven years
ago. Then James, a brother of Lizzie's,
had it and it has been in constant use
almost daily ever since, either by him or
his wife. The little gold coin was.never
seen after Lizzie's death, or before for sev
eral years by her friends, and its wherea
bouts was not known and in fact its exist
ence had passed from their memory. A few
days ago Mrs. Butler made her parents a.
visit, stopping with them several nights.
While there,", she dreamed that she saw
her Aunt Lizzie's wallet, and that it was
faced with green, and in a certain compart
ment she found the little gold coin which
she saw so many years ago. On telling her
mother her dream she was informed that
Lizzie did have a wallet which answered
her description, and that her Uncle James
had it The wallet Addle had never seen.
She then visited her uncle, and told her
dream to her aunt, who laughed at the idea
of anything being in it other than what she
and her hnsband had placed there. But at
Addie's earnest solicitation she produced it,
and as soon as Addie saw it she exclaimed,
'That is the same wallet that I saw in my
dream,' and pointing out the compartment
that held her treasure. She then took a
needle, and running it to the bottom she
drew forth a small piece of newspaper, and
in if was, indeed, a gold quarter with a hole
in it, wrapped no doubt by the hands of her
aunt, at least 12 years before, where it had
lain all this time, and no one knows how
much longer, without the knowledge of
anyone until Addie's dream caused it to
be brought forth."
OKAY-HEADED GAMES.
Some ofThe Annulment Which Were In
Vogue Long Before the Christian Era.
Boys cannot help being boys, and if it is
any comfort to them to know it, they al
ways have been, says the Youth's Compan
ion; There is no reason to doubt they have
played approximately the same games for
thousands of years. If a flavor of antiquity
can dignify sports, the following extract
will satisfy many an anxious parent that
his offspring are entirely respectable in their
methods of amusement
, Sakya-Muni, the founder of Buddhilm,
who died probably 400 years before Christ,
gave to his disciples some paragraphs on
conduct. He took a conservative stand
against certain games. The fact of his speak
ing of them shows that they must have ex
isted long before his day.
He says that the true Brahman should re
frain from ''games detrimental to pro
gress in virtue; that is to say, with a board
of 64 squares, or of 100 squares; tossing up;
hopping over diagrams formed on the
ground; removing substances from a heap
without shaking the- remainder;
aicing,
trapball; sketching rude figures; tossing
balls; blowing trumpets; ploughing matches;
tumbling; forming mimic windmills; guess
ing at 'measures; chariot races; archery;
shooting marbles from the fingers."
The reader will easily recognize in this
list games which he himself has often
played. The first is no donbt chess; but can
any reader tell what the 100 square game
was? Is any such played now? After
these come hop-scotch, jackstraws, perhaps
backgammon, capbail, and cartoon draw
ing. To our surprise, we find that baseball, the
"great American game," is by no means a
recent invention, but rather a survival of
the fittest. Cornets are Still a nuisance,
and ploughing matches are still heard of
once, in a while out West Even in those
days cartwheels were turned and other
frightful attitudes struck by "contortion
ists." Our hoys make mimic waterwheels of
tener than mimic windmills: but the
"guess" game ib still a favorite; horse racing
and archery are not modern diversions; and
marbles are as popular now as when the
first pair of youngsters went to school. It
is claimed that chess dates back about
4,000 years. What reason is there to doubt
that hop-scotch, ball and marbles are equally
ancient.
HiBD TO UNDERSTAND.
Why Do Women Powder and Faint Before
Visltldg a Dentin r
New Yort Snn.i
"It's a mystery io me," said a dentist of
large practice recently, "that a woman will
make up her face to come to a dentist's
chair. Yet many of them do. Hardly a
day passes that I don't have some women in
here rouged, powdered and pencilled to the
last degree. You would think they would
hardly care to face the strobg, cruel light
which I employ in my work, or my own
close, If involuntary, scrutiny, but they
don't seem to mind either.
Only yestirdoy I worked for three hours
over a woman Whose lips were so besmudged
With some Vermilion paste that It came off
generously with every use of the syringe to
wash out her mouth. The powder on her
face dusted my coat sleeve with every mo
tion almost, and I discovered before I itas
through with her that even the Veins on her
temples owed their delicate blue look to
some outside Influence."
Kendr to Take HI Medicine.
Merchant Traveler.
"Did I ever say all that?" he asked de
spondently, as she replaced the phonograph
on the corner of the mantelpiece.
"Yon did."
"And you can grin1 ft ont of that ma
chine whenever ydu choose?"
"Certainly."
"And your father is a lawyer?"
"Yes."
"Mabel, when can I place the ring on
your finger and calf you my wife?"
A Scrlon PnZzle.
Wide Awake.
"I wonder why,'1 said little Sue,
"Ynu say, mamma. 'If l were ynu
That's not the w.iy that I should do,'
So many times a day!
I s'poso I'm. wrong; hut 1 don't see
It you were turned right Into me
"Whr, truthfully, you wouldn't be
'Most sure to do my way I"
Iilke nn Opcn-Fncrd Watch.
Jewelers' WceklJ-..
Mr. Quickwlt Moralizes Mr. Qaickwlt
(to Mrs. Coarsealr, who is profusely be
decked with imitation diamonds') Madam,
you remind me of an openfacedfwatch.
Mrs. Coarsealr How tfit Te, he, he.
Mr. Quickwit YouMrystal is so proai-
nent
SOHETHIfia ABOUT BOILS..
What Causes Them nod Bow They Shonld
be Treated.
A boil may be defined as a limited area
of inflammation situated in the loose tissue
which binds the skin to the deeper struct
ures, says the Youth's Companion. 'Gen
erally it starts in or around a sweat gland,
and approaches the surface as it grows.
Many theories have been advanced to ac
count for the origin of boils, bnt it has now
come to be pretty well established that they
are paused by the growth of the tissues of
certain minute organisms. These are found
in every such abscess; they can be cultivated,
their life history can be studied, and when
they are placed in the tissues again, under
favorable circumstances, another boil, pre
cisely like tbe first, is produced.
How these boils find their way into the
system it is sometimes not easy to say, bnt
L probably it is through some slight break in
the skin which has escaped notice. Some
persons seem to present a mors suitable soil
for the culivation of the germs than others,
and certain conditions of the system are
very favorable to their development
A lower vitality, sea bathing, changes of
diet, especially during athletic training,
and convalescence from certain fevers are
not uncommonly followed by boils. Child
ren with scorfula and rickets are apt to
suffer. Excessive sweating, lack of clean
liness, the long use of poultices, the ap
plication of irritants to the skis, and espe
cially the chafing of clothing, seem to favor
their formation.
Any part of the body may be affected,
but they are most frequently seen on the
back ot the, neck, in the arm-pit and on the
lower part of the trunk. Where the skin
is firmly tied down, as in the passage of
the earthe pain and tenderness become in
tense; in the looser structures it may be but
moderate.
If left to itself, a boil will break in four
or five days, and discharge pnss and gener
ally, some dead tissue known as the"core."
It is usual to apply poultices till the abscess
nears the surface, and then make an open
ing;.bnt often, if a free incision is made at
the beginning, the process will be arrested.
Poultices are of benefit only to relieve pain;
they shonld not be continued after the in
cision is made, since they serve but to pro
long the discharge.
More than that, Dr. Pye Smith, of Lon
don, in the course of a recent discussion,
declared his belief .that the crops of boils
which sometimes are seen in the case ot
schoolchildren are due to the transfer of
germs, by means of poultices, from an open
sore to the glands of the healthy skin.
The rational treatment, then, is an early
opening and washing ont of the boll, using
fluids that are destructive to the germs. At
the same time the general health must be
seen to,In order that it may offer a sufficient
barrier to further inroads.
AN IHPEOBABLE XABX.
A Chlcaso Ulan Too Bashful to Talk to &
Pretty Widow.
Chicago Herald, j
"I know it's the general supposition and
the rockbound belief on the part of the most
women that really bashful men don't exist
anywhere off the farm," said a Southside
man, "but I know one woman who is con
vinced that bashfulness can flourish and be
come confirmed right here in the city, with
the Board of Trade as a stamping ground.
"The lady I speak of is a charming young
widow who lives with her parents in an ele
gant big residence away out south. The
bashful gentleman has been acquainted
with this pretty little widow for a good
while, and a short time ago asked her to go
to the theater. I don't know how he ever
nerved himself up enough to make the re
quest, but he did. and the young woman's
father, who is quite friendly with the bash-
lai man, suggested mat tney use tne tamuy
carriage. So he rode down to the mansion on
the Illinois Central, and tbe elegant car-
.In.A nf (ha .vfitinr'tt fn !. rlta) r.r f .l.a
jront jJqqj, j,, jjfcg jj,em ne piay house.
The widow was handed in aud settled her
self in the back seat Then the bashful
man to her surprise, took a seat directly
opposite her, and the carriage rolled out on
the boulevard and toward the city.
"The pretty little widow exhausted all
the arts of which she Was possessed and,
being a widow, yon may believe they were
numerous to apprise the bashful man of
fact that it would be proper for him to take
a seat by her side; but he was more afraid
of.ber than he ever was of a panicky wheat
market The widow wanted to laugh, and
yft she felt silly, sitting over there alone,
with carriages passing, whose occupants
could see her isolation. All her hints, how
ever, were of no avail, and she finally said:
" 'Mr. , if you are quite convinced
that I will not bite, please sit over here.
It looks much better. You can snuggle
into your own corner if you want to and go
to sleep. I will not bother you.'
"He complied, stammeringly, and
crouched Into his corner all the way to the
theater, responding with hesitating mono
syllables to her effort at conversation. The
home trip was jnst ss had.
"And this man is one of the brassiest
brokers on the floor of the Board of Trade."
BOUND TO PLEASE.
A Georgia Clerk Who ts Too Smart to Show
, till Inexperience.
Jessup (Ua.) Sentinel.
One day last week a lady called at the
store of Whaley & Lee, and Bill Westberry,
havingf'jnst given his mustache a fine twist,
hastily stepped forward to wait upon her.
Bill approached with a pleasant smile about
a yard wide, and with one of his most grace
ful bows politely informed the lady that he
was at her service. She told him she would
be pleased to see some Corps de LIsse ruch
ings. This staggered Bill, bnt not wishing
to appear green, or bi a loss, ne toia ner
that he had just sold the last keg they had
that morning, but had ordered 40 kegs
more, and was looking for them by every
freight.
The lady bade him good morning and
wentoutsmiling,andBHl gave his mustache
another twirl and consoled himself with the
thought of how fortunate it was to be ready
witted,
HE STUDIED IT HASD.
Bow a museum Orator Unwinds His Tale of
the Sword and Spike Walker.
New York Bnn.j
There is a lecturer in an east-side muse
um who unwinds amazingly. Here is a
specimen of his oratorical powers. "This,
ladles and gentlemen, "is Singalee, the sword
and spike walker. She is a native of Luck
now, India, add walks with her bare,
naked, and tender flesh upon the glistening,
keen-cutting,bristlinr, incisive,penetrating,
needle-like, horrible edges of quivering,
wavering, trembling swords, and the jagged,
pointed, .tearing, terrible, cross-cutting,
fearful, frigbtfnl, horrifying, spearified, tri
pointed, gashing, deep-sinking, death
wonnding, feet-ruining spikes dancing and
rolling on a bed of bare and pointed carpet
tacks, and running a race on glistening
cimelers."
Sixteen Yean Without a Day Ofl.
Iewlston Journal.;
Most folks think they have stuck to their
work Closely when they only take a week or
two of vacation in a year, but Mr. Joseph
Maddocks, keeper of Owl's Head Light,
has distanced all competitors in close at
tention to business. He is now on a trip
West, and it is said that this is the first
time for 16 years, 4 months and 15
days that he has spent a night away from
his post Mr. Haddocks deserves to have
an enjoyable" vacation.
A STUDY OF NOSES?
Horfto Judge Readily of a Person's ' , -
Disposition and Character
BI HIS FACIAL ORNAMEHT.
The Inquisitive jfan. the Pugnacious
and the Non-Combatanf.
Mia
FHISIOGNOMI AS AIT EXACT SCIESCE
twarmcr tob tux sispitcb.1
There are tew, indeed, who do not prid
themselves upon their ability to discern
traitsof character from a glance at the face.
We say of one we meet for the first time:
"There's something about that person I
don't like," but when pressed for a cause
for dislike, few can give any satisfactory
reason to an inquiring mind.
Much has been written of human char.
acter as delineated in facial formations, but
with but two or three exceptions, scientists
have refused to spend time in the investiga
tion of physiognomy or phrenology as s
science, because of the disrepute charlatans
have brought them into. Physiognomy Is
but the visible sign, in the features, of the
brain's development; hence, there is no
cause for wrangling between physiognomists
and phrenologists.
The nose on a face attracts attentioa
naturally, Justus the spire of a church does.
We look at the latter before we examine
fully the bastions and buttresses in its
architecture; and in the nose likewise wa
find strong indications of character. The
Boman nose indicates force and strength.
As an arch is stronger than a square in
architecture, so is the arched nose an in
dicator of greater strength than a straight
one in physiognomy. It means pugnacity
first of all, but whether m the form of self
defense, relative-defense or attack is to be
determined by a more careful scrutiny.
Iftherebea prominence at the point a
retrousse or turned up nose it indicates
an inquisitive character, with a strong pro
pensity to pry into the affairs of others. This
sign is usually conspicuous in great detec
tives and the discovery of things which
have been stolen and secreted.
INQUISITIVE A3TD COMBATIVE NOSES.
In animals the hog has this faculty large,
the nose being tnrned up into a flange; and
he exercises it to find food in the ground in
digging up nuts, roots, etc The faculty is
strongly indicative of a disposition to dig
into the earth in search of food or treasure.
In connection with acquisitiveness it forms a
character sordid and covetous, often
miserly. ,
Self-defense is indicated by a prominence
on the nose just above the tip. It indi
cates a character that wonld always stand
on the defensive considering himself al
ways the one attacked, and, therefore, ready
to oppose, to contradict, to be continually
on the opposite side. Such an one has a
stronger dislike to interference than most
people. To him self-defense is the first law
oi nature, and he 'vears written all over him
the motto, John Paul Jones had on his flag,
"Don't tread on mc."
This faculty was conspicuous in many of
our public men at the outbreak of the.rebel
lion, particularly those who were favorable
fb all propositions calculated to mollify the
South, until after the attack on Fort Sum
ter, -when they SCS.wra!sLost implacable
It was prominent in Lincoln, 0 P. Morton,
Zach. Chandler, Henry Winter Davis, Gen
eral Schenck,"6corge S. Bout well", Simon
CafneroD, Governor Curtin and otnersJfc
In horses this disposition manifests fjfclf
ny leering, throwing bacs the bead andjtij,
attempting to bite, striking or kicking with
the hoof, by which acts the animal conveys
the warning: "Keep your distance, don't
touch me."
Belative-defense, or the disposition to de
fend one's family, friend or neighbor's situ.
ated on the ridge of the nose, about the mid
dle and above self-defense as seen in pictures
of W. H. Seward. Such a person will de
fend his country, his home and fireside, and
will let the blow fall upon himself rather
than on his wife and children or friends.
He is easily provoked by anything like en
croachment upon the rights of others, par
ticularly those of children or the weak and
simple. It is
THE PATRIOTIC SIGN
and is commonly seen in American profiles.
It is prominent in the portraits of Charles
Sumner, W. H. Seward. Wendell Phillips,
John Greenleaf Whittier, William Lloyd
Garrison, Owen Lovejoy, Jo.hua B. Gid
dings, Lncretia Mott, Jane Grey Swissbelm
and all the pioneer Abolitionists, as well as
in many of our cotemporary public men. It
is also frequently found in controversialists,
and may be seen in portraits of John Cal
vin, John Knox, Sforza, Beza and others,
who were noted alike for controversy and
dogmatism.
The faculty of attack is indicated in the
upper part of the ridge of the nose above
relative defense. It indicates a quarrelsome,
pugnacious character. Such a disposition
is obnoxious to those who have large self
and relative defense. He is not content to
allow others quiet in person or opinion. If
a gross, vnlgar Character, he attacks their
person: if intellectual and refined, he at
tacks their opinions, and is a controversion
alist, with a pronounced tendency to dog
matize. Domination is
A1EADINO CHARACTEBISTIO
of such a face. It is the Boman nose. It
is apparent in the face of Julius Cresar a
fit type of that people whose love of con
quest gained them jurisdiction over the
'then known world, and whose rule was
powerful, often tyrannical, and whose laws
have? survived the changes of Government
in all civilized countries.
In the Irish face we see either self defense
or attack, or both, largely developed, with
less relative defense. In the English face
attack is always prominent; and in ths
French a large sign of relative defense.
These mark the cgmbative Irishman, the
domineering and dogmatic Englishman and
the irritable Frenchman.
Having no distinctive national facial
characteristics, owing to the conglomerate
origin of our people the American shows
sometimes a few and sometimes a compound
of all these signs in his face.
Johnston IL
Not Terr Flattering-.
Detroit Free Press.1
"Mighty fine woman I saw yon
liftintf
your hat to, back there, old bov."
"Yes, rather." ' '
'Some mash of yours?"
"Yes."
"Couldn't introduce a fellah, eh?"
"Might if you'll come up to the house
some evening."
"Ohl your wife?"
"Yes.1'
"Pshaw 1 1 supposed it was your cookl"
A Profitable Bntlness.
Boston Courier. 1
Robinson Thompson seems to be
very
prosperous nowadays. ,
JohnsonWell, I shonld think he would
be prosperous. He is in a profitable busi
ness. E What is he doing?
J Why, he's engaged in the manufacture
of antique furniture.
Appearances DecehM.
New York Sun.
"Who is that tall, handseae rentles-HM,
over there? He must be a poet or aa artijt!''j
"Vn- that la fiml'ti ko. ....V SiT
"No; that Is Smith
&aaafetBrr."
.-v.u-jrnr
v .i