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counterpart, and critically admired the like
ness. "It was an unwarranted liberty," she
said to herself, "but he ma it very well.'
The delicate fiber of the wood had favored
to the carver's purpose. The imitation
land bore a shade of flattery in the barely
tinted birchen white, and in the fine
grained satin smoothness that the keen
blade had wrought, but this was not too
much for more than a reasonable compli
ment. As to the modeling that was sincere
ly accurate, and the fingers rested on the
key, precisely as Mary had seen them dur
ing many hours of many days. It is an ex
cessively vain girl who admires herself as
actually as she does a portrait, and the
telegrapher really saw more beauty in the
birchen hand than she Irad ever observed in
the live one. As she contemplated it,
Bavelli returned noiselessly behind-her. "I
a-wish to say some-thing, Mees Warriner."
The Italian accent of Bavelli grated with
unnatural harshness on Mary's ears, and if
he had been an intruder upon her privacy,
instead of a man in a really public place,
she would not have been surprised into a
deep flush. She snatched her hand away
irom its wooden counterpart, and clasped it
with its mate behind her, as she leaned her
-within five minutes of time to shut ofE"
She started to go behind the desk. He
.stopped her with a touch upon her shoulder,
and she shrank away reprovingly, although
it was solely the man's earnestness that had
made him do it
"Ko, no, it ees not words for-a ze wire zat
I have-a for you," he said. "I wish-a to
tell to yourself something. "Will you lees
ten?" "Yes if it is something that I ought to
iear."
"Ihees cez it. I am a-more than I seem
lere deef-e-rent so deef-e-rcnt you would
hardly knev-a me. In zis place I am on-ly
a contractor for ze laborer. I am-a as com
mon as my gang in-a clothes in-a manner,
too, eh? I3ut etn one hour een one minute
I could-a con-veence you zatl am-a some
ting finer."
Mary did not show in her perectly re
Hjained composure that she was so much as
puzzled by the man's enigmatic talk. She
said: T don't see how it could be worth
while, Mr. Bavelli."
"Oh, yes I beg-a pardon for ze contra-3ic-tion
yes, it ees worth-a while. Away
.from-a here, Mary, I would-a be so deer-e-rent
zat you a-love me."
,. "Stop, Mr. Bavelli stop."
The command was positive, but it was not
obeyed.
"I love-a you "
.. He caught her by one wrist as he began.
She was utterly unresistant If she had
struggled, or cried out, he would have gone
on with his voluble, excited declaration; but
her placidity was incomprehensible to him.
"Mr. Bavelli," she began after a moment,
"you understand English?"
"Perfectly, Mees Warriner."
"Well, here is plain English for you. I
would use Italian if I could, so that you
mightn't mistake me. Tou are to let go of
my hand."
He did it
"You are to go away instantly, and never
come here again, except on business. Go at
once."
That he did not do.
Tor what-a did you come here, into one
camp oof men, eef "
"If I didn't expect to be unsafe? I'll tell
you. It was a mistake. Operator ifo. 9
-was ordered to this post. Ko. 9 had been a
man who had within a week been discharged,
and his number given to me. By an over
sight no alteration was made in the record-
to show the sex of the new .No. a. J. couidn t
afford to lose the work. Besides "
'Well, a-besides "
"Besides, I reasoned that every man at
Overlook would protect me against all the
other men, if "
"Yes, eef "
"Yes, it I cared absolutely nothing for
any single one of them. Therefore, I Am
sot afraid. But you must not annoy me."
Fury flashed into the man's eyes, into his
reddened face, into the sudden tension of
lis gripped hands. The girl's contemptu
ous indifference maddened him. She saw
this, and was at once alarmed, as she real
ized that here was a reckless lover one
who heated dangerously where another
would have chilled under disdain; but she
maintained an unshaken voice, as she said:
'"You may as well know, however, that I
am amply protected. The night watchman
' is ordered to include this combined office
and residence of mine in every round he
makes. So I sleep quite unconcernedly.
In the daytime, too, I shall have a defense,
it it becomes necessary."
"0, have-a no alarm, Mees "Warriner,"
and the man's facial expression softened
singularly as he gazed wistfully at the girl,
"I haf said I love-a you." Then, with a
startling quick transition he giared menac
ingly off in the direction that Gerald Heath
had gone. It seemed curious to Mary, too,
that in his rage his English was-: clearer
than usual, as he growled: "It is your lover
that should be afraid of me." He- flung out
one fist in a fierce menace, and added in
Italian: "JKel vindicarvi bisogna ch'egli mi
rende la sua vita."
CHAPTER IL
THE SIGHT AND MABY TTAEEDTEE.
The full moon looked for Mary Warrin
er's little house that night, as soou as a
clearance of the sky permitted, and then
beamed down on her abode effulgently.
But it was 11 o'clock before the gusty wind
blew the thick clouds aside and let the orb
illumine Overlook. Back of the shed in
which the telegrapher worked by day was a
structure in which she slept at night It
was built of slabs, with big growing trees to
form its irregular corners, and their lowest
limbs contributed the rafters, while stripped
bark and evergreen boughs made the roof.
The foliage swayed above in the fitful wind
and covered the cabin and grass around it
wiih commingling, separating, capering
shadows of leaves as though a multitude of
little black demons were trying to get to the
slumbeter within. Their antics looked
spiteful and angry at first, but as the wind
lessened to a breeze and as the moon seemed
to mollify them, they became frolicsome
without malice; and at length, when the
merest zephyrs impelled their motions, they
gamboled lazily, good-humoredly above and
around the couch of Mary Mite.
It was midnight when a man shot into
the open space around the cabin like a mis
sile. He ran first to the frontof the struct
ure, where a tarpaulin curtained the shed
for the night and gazed for a moment
blankly at this indication that the hour was
not one of business. Tremendous haste was
denoted in his every step and gesture. He
plucked twice at the canvas, as though to
pull it down. Then he skurried around to
the single window of Mary's apartment,
"whose only door opened into the shed, and
pounded with his knuckles on the ill-fitted
sash, making it clatter londly. Silence
within followed this noise without
"Hello! "Wake up!" he cried. "Don't
fool for a minute; wake up!"
There was so response, and he skipped to
and fro in his impatience. He was an ordi
nary sboreler and pounder, with nothing
to distinguish him from the mass of manual
laborers at Overlook, but unlike the usual
man with an errand at the telegraphic sta
tion, flourished a scrap of paper.
"I want to telegraph, he shouted, and
struck the window again. "Get up quick!
It'slife and death!" "
Mary "Warriner was convinced that her
services wer.e urgently and properly re
quired. She peeped warily out to inspect
the man, estimated him to be merely a mes
senger, and then opened wide the sash
which swung laterally on hinges. Her del
icate face bore the same sort of calm that
characterized it in business hours, but the
moon shone on it now, the hair had got
'loose from the bondage of knot and pin, and
for an outer garment she was carelessly en
wrapped in a white.fleecy blanket The man
did not give her time to inqnire what was
wanted.
"You're the telegraph girl, ain't you?" he
exclaimed. "Well, here's something to tel
egraph. It's in a hurry, hurry, hurry.
Don't lose a minute."
"I couldn't send it to-night," Mary said.
"You must"
"It'ltn't possible. There it nobody t the
shoulder against the carving to hide it.
"It you have a messace to send, she
said. ''I can't get it on the wire too soon. It's
other end of the line to receive it The
wire is private belongs to the railroad
company isn't operated except in the day
time. You'll have to wait until to-mor-row.
"To-morrow I'll be 100 years old or else
dead," the man almost wailed in despair.
"What?"
"I was only 10 years old yesterday. To
night I'm GO. To-morrow'll be too late.
Here here send it to-night, Miss. Please
send it to-night"
The mystified girl mechanically took the
piece of paper which he thrust into her
hands, but her eyes did not drop before
they discovered the insanity in his face, and
when they did rest on the paper they saw a
scrawl of'hieroglyphics. It was plain that
this midnight visitor was a maniac. Against
Overlook's-civil and sane menMary had
entrenched herself confidently behind her
apathy, ibut within the round of the
clock she had been beset by agreeable senti
ment, by violent passion, and now by irra
tional delusion. She screamed for help.
A watchman responded almost instantly
to her call. He was a stalwart fellow, em
ployed to guard the company's tools and
machinery against mischief at sight, and
his patrol, since Mary inhabited the cabin,
had brought him very frequently past the
place. He chanced" to have come almost
there when he heard the outcry. Upon
seeing the cause of the girl's fright, he
dropped all perturbation of his own, and
treated the incident as a matter of course.
The lunatic wobbled like a drunken man,
about to collapse, as he mumbled his 're
quest over and over again.
"Here, now, Eph," the watchman said,
with as much cajolery as command, "you
mustn't bother the.young lady. Ain't you
ashamed to scare her this way? Get right
out of this."
The watchman took the other by the arm,
and, as they started off one insisting and
one objecting the official looked back to
say: "He won't hurt nobody, Miss "War
riner he's just a little cranky, that's all."
Mary watched them out of sight and
while she was doing so Gerald Heath ap
proached from the contrary direction. He
had heard the girl's scream. Why he was
within ear-shot lie might sot have been able
to explain satisfactorily, for it was not bis
habit to take midnight walks, even when
the air was so brightly moonlit and so tem
porarily fine; but if cross-questioned he
would doubtless have maintained that he
had sought only to escape from the darkness
and closeness of his shanty quarters. Be
sides, where would he so likely wander, in
quest of good sight and breath, as to the
spot whence he could view the scenery which
he in vain asked the railway company to
exhibit to their passengers? As he turned
the corner of the cabin, he saw Eph and the
watchman departing, and comprehended
the disturbance.'
"Eph has been frightening you, Miss
"Warriner," he said.
Mary screamed again, but this time it
was a low, musical little outcry of modesty.
She had not observed Gerald's approach.
She clutched the blanket closely around her
white throat, which had been almost as much
exposed as by an ordinary cut of frock, and
drew under cover the gleaming wrists which
had all day been bared to a greater extent
by sleeves of handy working length. Then
she reached out one taper arm, and swung
the sash around on its hinges, so its inner
cover of muslin made a screen between her
and the visitor. He did not apologize for
his intrusion, and she pouted a little, on her
safe side of the sash, at his failure to do so.
"I see it was Eph that alarmed you," he
said. "What did he do?"
She told him, and ihen asked: ""Who is
he, and what ails him?"
"He is a common laborer with an uncom
mon affliction," was the reply. "One day
an excavation caved in, and for an hour he
was buried. Some timbers made a' little
space around his head, but the rest of him
was packed in earth. He had breathed the
enclosed air two or three times over, and
was almost suffocated. "When we got him out
he was insensible. He never came back to
his senses. He believes he is living at the
rate of more than a year every hour. That
is why he was in such a hurry with his
imaginary message."
"Poor fellow' came from the obverse
side of the sash.
"Yes, poor fellow," the narrator assented.
"I understood his hallucination at once.
"When a man'is suddenly placed in mortal
peril his past life dashes before him. Half
drowned men afterward tell of reviewing in
a minute the events of years. It is a curious
mental phenomenon. Well, this poor chap
had that familiar experience, but -with a
singular sequence. The impression that all
his lifetime before the accident happened in
a brief time has remained in his disordered
mind. He believes that his whole
earthly existence is condensed that
future years as well' as his past
ones are compressed into days, and his days
into minutes. Nothing can disabuse him of
this idea. Everything is to him ephemeral.
That's why I nicknamed him Eph short
for Ephemeral, you see. He doesh t remem
ber his real name, and on the roll he had
only a number. He has done his work well
enough, until within a few days, but now
his malady seems to have turned to' the
worst He has talked wildly of getting
some physicians to check the speed of time
with him, and it may have been that he
wished to telegraph to this fancied expert"
"It is singular," Mary said, "and very
sad."
The midnight incident seemed to have
come to a conclusion. It was a proper time
for Gerald to say good night and go away.
He still stood on the opposite side of the
half open sash, around the edge of which
appeared a small set of finger tips which
pulled the screen a little closer, showing
that the girl was minded to shut herself in.
But a hand twice as big opposed hers,
gently yet strongly and in doing so it
touched 'her, upon which she, let go and the
window flew open.
"O, you mustn't see me," Mary exclaimed,
as Gerald got a vanishing glimpse of the
white draped figure. "Good night"
"You will be afraid if left alone," Gerald
protested; "you can't go to sleep, iervous as
you must be."
"I surely can't eo to sleep talking," was
her rejoinder, with the first touch of co
quetry she had indulged in at Overlook.
"I won't talk then, I'll only keep gnard
out here until daylight. Eph may return."
"But there's 'the watchman. It is his
duty."
"It would be my delight"
That silenced the invisible inmate of the
cabin. The moon shone into the square
opening, but Mary was ensconced somewhere
in the darkness that bordered the income of
light.
'Should I apologize?" Gerald at length
began again. "It is like this, Miss War
riner. ,X used to know how to behave
politely to a lady. But for six years I've
lived in wildernesses in railroad camps
from Canada to Mexico. "We've had no
ladies in these rough places no women, ex
cept once in a while some mannish "washer
woman or cook. That's what makes you so
rare so unexpected that is why it would
be a delight to be a patrolman ontside your
Quarters that is why I don't wish to go
away."
"Oh oh! I am interesting because I am
the only specimen of my sex at Overlook.
That isn't a doubtful compliment; it is no
compliment at all. Good night.
m "You "misconstrue me altogether. I
mean "
"I am sure you do not mean," and now.
thetone was pleadingly serious, "to remain
here at my window alter I request you to go
away. I am, as you have said, the only girl
at Overlook.5'
"If there were a thbusand girls at Over
look "
"Not one of them, I trust, would prolong
a dialogue with a young gentleman at night
through the open window of her bedroom."
Half in respectful deference to Mary's
unassailable statement of the rule of pro
priety applicable to the sitnation, and half
in inconsiderate petulance at being dis
missed, Gerald let go of the sash with an
impulse that almost closed it This time
two miniature hands came out under the
swinging frame. "Would more than one
hand have been naturally used? "Was it
not an awkward method of shutting a win
dow? And Mary "Warriner was not a
clumsy creature. But there were the hands,
and Gerald grasped them. They flattered
for freedom, like birds held captive in
broad palms by completely caging fingers.
Then he uncovered them, bat for an instant
THE
kept them prisoners by encircling the wrists
long enough to impetuously kiss them.
Another second and they were gone, the
window was closed, and the offender was
alone.
, He walked slowly away, accusing himself
of folly and uhgentlemanliness, and he felt
better upon getting out of the clear, search
ing moonshine into the dim, obscuring
shade of rocks and trees, among which the
path wound crookedly. There rapid foot
steps startled him, as though he were a
skulking evil doer, and the swift approach
of a man, aTong an intersecting pathway,
made him feel like taking to cowardly
flight But he recognized the monomaniac,
Epb, who was in a breathless tremor.
"Mr. Heath, could a man walk to Dim
mersville before the telegraph station there
opens in the morning?" Eph asked, with
several catches of breath, and a reeling
movement of physical weakness.
"You go to bed.' Eph," was the reply,
meant to be soothing, "and I'll see that
your telegram goes from here the earliest
thine in the morning. That won't be more
Whan six or seven hours from now."
"Six or seven hours, the poor fellow de
ploringly moaned; "I'll be a good many
years older by that time. Oh, it's awful to
have your life go whizzipg away like mine
does," and he clutched at Gerald with his
fidgety hands, with a vague idea of slowing
himself by holding to a normal human
being.
Then he darted away, swaying from side
to side with faintness and disappeared in
the foliage which lined the path he was fol
lowing. Gerald watched him out of sight, and was
about to resume his own different way, when
the voice of Tonio Bavelli was heard, with
its Italian extra A to the short words, and a
heavy emphasis on the final syllable of the
long ones.
"Mistair Heath," he said, "Isaw-a your
affectionate par-ting weez Mees "Warriner."
Gerald had jnst then the mind or a cul
prit, and he began to explain apologetically:
"It was cowardly in me to insult a defense
less girl. She didn't invite it I am
ashamed of myself.
He hardly realized to whom he was speak
ing. The two men were now walking rap
idly, Bavelli taking two strides to one of
the bigger Gerald, in order to keep along
side. "You-a should be ashamed you-a scoun
drel." As mnch of jealous fury and venomous
malice as could be vocalized in six words
was in Bavelli's sudden outbreak. Gerald
was astonished. He turned upon his com
panion, caught him by both lapels of the
coat and shook him eo vigorously that .his
boot soles pounded the ground. Bavelli
staggered back upon being loosed, and
threw one arm around a tree to steady him
self. "I didn't mean to hurt you," said Gerald,
"you shouldn't be reckless with your lan
guage. Perhaps you don't know what a
sconndrel means in English."
"I saw you-a kiss her hand."
"Did you? "Well, do you know what I'd
do to you, Bavelli, if I saw you kiss her
hands as I did without her consent? I'd
.wring your miserable neck. Now what are
you going to do to me?"
"I am-a going to keel you!"
The blade of a knife flashed in Bavelli's
right hand, as he made a furious onslaught;
but the stronger and quicker man gripped
both of his assailant's wrists, threw him
violently to the ground, and tortured him
with wrenches and doublings until he had
to drop the'weapon. In the enconnter the
clothes of both men were torn, and when
Bavelli regained his feet blood was dripping
from his hand. The blade had-cut it
"You meant to kill me," Gerald ex
claimed. "I said-a so," was the sullen, menacing
response.
"And with my own knife," and Gerald,
picking up the knife, recognized it
"Your-a own knif e ze one zat you carve-a
Marv'a hand with so lovingly."
Bavelli had retained it since the previous
afternoon, when he had picked it up frdm
Mary "Warriner's desk. It's blade was now
red with blood, as Gerald shut and pocket
ed it.
"You cowardly murderer!"
"Murderer? Not-ayef. But I meant to
be."
Bavelli turned ofi by the cross path, and
Gerald passed on.
CHAPTER in.
A STBOKE OP LIGHTNING.
The first man to go to work at Oyerlook
in the morning was Jim Wilson, because he
had to rouse the fire under a boiler early
enough to provide steam for a score of rock
drills. The nightwatchman awakened him
at daybreak, according to custom, and then
got into a bunk as the other got out of one.
"Everything all right?" Jim ask'ed.
"I guess so," the other replied. "But I
haint seen ypur boiler sence afore midnight.
Eph was disturbin Mary Mite, and so I
hung 'round her cabin pretty much the last
half of the night"
Jim went to his post at the boiler, and at
an unaccustomed pace, from the point where
he first saw and heard steam hissing upward
from the safety valve. On auittincr the.
night previous he had banked the fire as 1
usual, and this morning ne snouid nave
found it burning so slowly that an honr of
raking, replenishing and open draughts
would no more than start the machinery at
7 o'clock. Going nearer he found that open
dampers and a fresh supply of coal had set
the furnace raging.
What was that which protruded from the
open door'and so nearly filled the aperture
that the draught was not impaired?
A glance gave the answer. It was the legs
ana half the bodr of a man, whose head and
shoulders were thoroughly charred, as Jim
was horrified to see when he pulled the re
mains out upon the ground.
Jim ran to tell the superintendent, and
within a few minutes a knot of excited men
surrounded the body. The gathering grew
in numbers rapidly. By means of the
clothing,the dead and partially burned man
was identified at once as Tonio Bavelli.
That he had been murdered was an equally
easy conclusion. The murderer had ap
parently sought to cremate the corpse.
Whether he had found it physically impos
sible, or had been frightened away, could
only be conjectured.
"Who can have done it!" was the ques
tion asked by Superintendent Brainerd, the
autocrat of Overlook.
There was a minute of silence, with all
staring intently at the body, as though half
expecting it to somehow disclose the truth.
The night watchman was first to speak.
"Eph might have done it" he said.
Then he told of the monomaniac's visit
to the telegraphic station, and of the acute
stage which his malady bad reached. No
body else present had seen him since the
previous evening. Superintendent Brain
'erd ordered a search of the lodgings. Ten
minutes were sufficient for a round of the
different quarters. Eph was in none of
them. The searchers returned to the furn
ace, and with them came Gerald Heath.
"I met Eph yonder where the path crosses,
not a hundred yards from here, a little past
midnight," Gerald said, "He was terribly
excited. That was after he had tried in
vain to telegraph a crazy message. Evi
dently his delusion, that his whole life was
condensed into a brief space, had driven him
to a frenzy. He spoke of walking to Dim
mersville, but I tried to quiet him, and he
disappeared."
Dimmersville was a town about ten miles
Distant, in a direction opposite to that from
which the railroad had worked its way
through the mountains. Ko wire connected
it with Overlook, and there was no public
road for the nearest third of the way, al-,
though a faint trail showed the course that
a few persons had taken on foot or horse
back. "Very likely Eph has gone toward Dim
mersville," Brainerd argued, "and we must
try to catch him."
Before the order could be specifically
given, a horse and a rider arose over the
edge of the level ground, and came into the
midst of the assemblage. The man in the
saddle had a professional aspect, imparted
chiefly by- his smoothly shaven face. In
this era of mustaches, a hairless visage is
apt to be assigned to a clergyman, who
shaves thus from a motive of propriety, Tin
actor, who does it' from necessity, or sowe-
bedy-who aims at facial- dttkuctien i
PITTSBURG- DISPATCH,
out the features snitable to that purpose. A
countenance of which it. pan only be said
that it has one nose, one mouth and two
eyes, all placed in inexpressive nonentity,
and which is dominated utterly byhairon
and around it, may be less lost to individ
uality if entirely shaven. Of snch seemed
the visage of the dark man who calmly rode
into the excitement at Overlook.
"Which way have you come?" Brainerd
asked.
"From' Dimmersville," was the reply.
"Did you see anybody on the way?"
"I started very early. Folks were not out
of their beds in the houses as long as there
were any houses and that is'only for five
or six miles you know. After that yes
I did see one man. A curiously excited
chap. He looked tired ?ut He asked the
distance to Dimmersville, and whether the
telegraph office would be open by the time
he got there. Then he slurried on, before I
had half answered him."
All that was known of the murder was
told to the stranger by half a dozen glib
tongues, and it was explained to him that
he had encountered the maniacal fugitive.
"I knew there was something wrong about
him," said the stranger. "Itis mybusiness
to be observant"
He dismounted and hitched his horse to a
tree. The dead body was shown to him. He
examined it very thoroughly. All the par
ticulars were related to him over and over.
Then he drew Superintendent Brainerd
aside.
"My name is Terrence O'Beagan," he
said, and in his voice was faintly distin
guishable the brogue of the land whence the
O'Beagans came. "I am a Government de
tective. I have been sent to work up evi
dence in the case of some Italian counter
feiters. We had a clew pointing to a sub
contractor here the very man who lies
there dead. Our information was that he
used some ot the bdgus bills in paying off
his gang. Now.it isn't going outside my
mission to investigate his death if you don't
object"
"I would be glad to have you take hold of
it" Brainerd replied. "We can't bring the
authorities here before noon, at the earliest,
and in the meantime you can perhaps clear
it nil up."
The eagerly curious men had crowded
close to this brief dialogue, and had heard
the latter part of it O'Jieagan became in
stantly an important personagej upon whose
smallest word or movement they hung ex
pectantly; and nobody showed a teener in
terest than Gerald Heath. The detective
first examined the body. The pockets of
Bavelli's clothes contained a wallet, with
its money untouched, besides a gold watch.
"So robbery was not the object" said
O'Beagan to Brainerd. "The motive is the
first thing to look for in a case of murder."
Next lie found blood on the waistcoat, a
freat deal of it, bnt dried by the fire that
ad burned the shoulders and head; and in
the baked cloth were three "cuts, under
which he exposed three stab wounds.
Strokes of a knife had, it seemed, killed the
victim before he "was thrust partially into
the furnace.
A storm was coming to Overlook unper
ceived, for the men were too much engrossed
in what lay there on the ground, ghastly
and horrible, to pay any attention to the
clouding sky. Gloom was so fit for the
scene, too, that nobody gave a thought to
whence it came. To Gerald Heath the eo-
.ingoutof sunlight, and the settling down
of dusky shadows, seemed a mental experi
ence of his own. Ho stood bewildered,
transfixed, vaguely conscious of peril, and
yet too numb to speak or stir. Detective
O'Beagan, straightening up from over the
body, looked piercingly at Gerald, and then
glanced around at the rest.
"Is there anybody here who saw Tonio
Bavelli last night?" he asked.
"I did," Gerald replied.
"Where and wheri?"
"At the same place where I met Eph, and
immediately afterward."
"Ah! now we are locating Eph and Bav
elli together. That looks like the lunatio
being undoubtedly the stabber."
"And we must catch him," Brainerd in
terposed. "I'll send riders toward Dim
mersville immediately."
"No great hurry about that," the detect
ive remarked; "he is too crazy to have any
clear motive, or any idea of escape. It will
be easr enough to cantnre him." Then he
turned to Gerald anfl questioned with the J
air of a cross-examiner: "Did the two men
have any words together?"
"No, was the ready answer; "I don't
know that they even saw each other at that
time. Eph went away an instant before
Bavelli came."
"Did you talk with Bavelli?"
"Yes.
"About what?"
"Not about Eph at all."
"About what, then?" ,
Now the reply came reluctantly: "A
personal matter something that had oc
curred between us an incident at the tele
graph station."
"The station where Eph had awakened
the girl operator? Was it a quarrel about
her?"
"That is no concern of yours. Yon are
impertinent"
"Well, "sir, the question is pertinent as
the lawyers say and the answer concerns
you, whether it does me or not. Yon and
Bavelli quarreled about the girl?"
"The young lady shall not be dragged
into this. She wasn't responsible for what
happened between Bavelli and me."
"What did hapoen between yon and
Bavelli?"
The two men stood "close to and facin?
each other. The eyes of the detective glared J
gioauugiy uw me upnuiu uiigm into tnepaie
but still firm face of the taller Gerald, and
then dropped slowly, until they became
fixed on a red stain on the sleeve of the oth
er's coat Did he possess the animal scent
of a bloodhound?
"What is that?" he sharply asked. He
seized the arm, and smelt'of the spotted fab
ric "It is blood! Let me see your knife."
Quite mechanically Gerald thrust one
hand into his trousers pocket, and brought
ont the knife which he had taken back from
Bavelli, whose blood was on it yet
The storm was overhead. A' first peal of
thunder broke loudly. It came at the in
stant oi the assemblage's intensest interest
at the instant when Gerald Heath was
aghast with the revelation of his awful
jeopardy at the instant of his exposure as a
murderer. It impressed them and him with
a shock of something supernatural. The
reverberation rumbled into silence, which
was broken bv O'Beagan:
"There'll b'e no need to catch Eph," he
said, in a tone of professional glee. "This
man is the murderer."
Again thunder rolled and rumbled angrily
above Overlook, and the party stood aghast
in the presence of the man deadand the man
condemned.
"Bring him to the telegraph station,"
O'Beagan commanded.
Nobody disputed the detective's'methoas
now not even Gerald; and, a prisoner as
completely as though manacled, although
not touched by anyone, he went with the
rest
Mary Warriner had taken down the tar
paulin in front of her shed when the men
approached. In the ordinary course of her
early morning doings she" would wait an
hour to'dispatch and receive the first tele
grams of the day, and then go to breakfast
alone at the table where the engineers and
overseers would by that time have had their
meal. She was astonished to see nearly the
whole population of Overlook crowd around
her quarters, while a few entered. Bat she
went qnickly-behind the desk, and took her
place on the stool. The soberness of the
faces impressed her, but nothing indicated
that Gerald was in custody, and her auick
thought was that some disaster made it J
necessary to use the wire importantly.
"I wish to send a message," said O'Bea
gan. stepping forward.
The eyes of the girl rested on him inquir
ingly, and he palpably flinched, bnt as ob
viously nerved himself to prooeed, and when
he spoke again the Irish accent became
more pronounced to hear, although not suf
ficiently to be shown in the printed words:
"I will dictate it slowly, so that you can
transmit it as I speak. Are you ready?' '
Mary's fingers were on the key, and Jier
bright, alert face was an answer to the
query.
"To Henry Deckennan, President," the
detective slowly said, waiting for the clicks
of the instrument to put his language on the
wire; "Tonio Bavelli, a subcontractor here,
was BirdWBd iMt HJfcfll". i , .':.? .. i
" . . r . .. frr ... .. .7.:
SUISTDAY, JUNE 9,
Mary's hand slid away from the key after
sending that, and the always faint tint in
her cheeks faded Qut, and her eyes flickered
up in a scared way to the stern faces in front
of it. The shock of the news that a man
had been slain, and that he was a man who,
only the previous day, had proffered his love
to her, jvas for a moment disabling. But
the habit of her employment controlled her,
and she awaited the farther dictation.
"His body was found this morning in the
furnace of the steam boiler," O'Beagan re
sumed deliberately, "where it had evidently
been placed in a vain attempt to destroy it"
A shudder went through Mary, and she
convulsively wrung her small hands to
gether, as though to limber them from a
cramp. Bnt her fingers went back to the
key.
"The-mnrderer has been discovered," the
detective slowly continued, and the operator
kept along with his utterance, word by
word. "He killed Bavelli for revenge. It
was a love affair." Here the girl grew
whiter still, and the clicks became very
slow, but tbey did not cease. 0'Be3gan's
voice was.cold and ruthless: "The motive of
the murderer was revenge. His name was
Gerald Heath."
All bnt the name flashed off on the wire.
Mary Warriner's power to stir the key
stopped at that She did not faint She
did not make any outcry. For a moment
she looked as though the soul had gone ont
of her body, leaving a corpse sitting there.
A grievous wail of wind came through the
trees and a streak ot lightning zig-zagged
down the blue-clouded sky.
"Go on," said O'Beagan.
"I will not," was the determined re
sponse. "Why not?"
"Because it is not so. Gerald Heath never
murdered Bavelli."
Gerald had stood motionless and silent.
Now hejjave way to an impulse as remarka
ble as his previous composure had been sin
gular. If there had been stagnation in his
mind, it was now displaced by turbulence.
He grasped Mary's hands in a fervid grip;
then dropped them, and faced the others.
"I did not kill the Italian," he said. "He
attacked me with my knife, which he had
stolen. In the struggle his hand was cut,
but I took the weapon away from him. He
quitted me alive and unhurt I never saw
him again. You don't believe it? Mary
does, and that is more than all else."
"The circumstances don't favor yon," the
detective retorted; "they convict you. Yon
killed Bavelli because you and he were
both in love with this yonng lady."
"Isn't it the rejected suitor who kills the
other for spite?" This was in Mary Warri
ner's voice, weak -but still steady. "Bavelli
loved me, I know, and I drove him away.
Mr. Heath loved me, I believed, and I had
not repulsed him. If I were, the cause of a
murder between them, it should be Bavelli
who killed Gerald."
. "You detested Bavelli?" O'Beagan asked,
with a strange bitterness.
"Yes."
"And yon love Heath?"
The answer was no more hesitant than be
fore: "Yes."
"Send the rest of my message," and the
detective was boisterous. "Send the name.
Gerald Heath is the murderer."
He roughly seized her hand and clapped
it on the key! She drew it away, leaving
his there. A blinding flash of lightning il
lumined the place, and what looked like a
missile of fire flew down the wire to the in
strument, where it exploded. O'Beagan
fell insensible from the powerful electrical
shock. The rest did not altogether escape,
and for a minute all were dazed. The first
thing that they fully comprehended was
that O'Beagan was getting unsteadily to his
feet He was bewildered. Staggering and
reeling, he began to talk.
Mary was the first to perceive the import
ot his utterance. He was merely going on
with what he had been saying, but the man
ner, not the matter, was astounding.
He spoke with.an Italian accent and made
Italian gestures.
"You-a send zemes-sage,"hesaidj "Heath
eez ze murder-are. Send-a zee mes-sage, I
say."
Tonio Bavelli had unwittingly resumed
his Italian style of English.
His plentitude ot hair and whiskers -was
gone, and in the face thereby uncovered no
body could have recognized him in Detec
tive O'Beagan, but for his lapse into the for
eign accent; and he said so much before dis
covering his blunder that his identification
as indeed Bavelli was complete.
Who, then, was thodead man? Why, he
was Eph. '
Nothing but the fear of being himself
condemned as a murderer of the maniac, as
a part of the scheme of revenge against
Gerald, induced Bavelli to explain. He
had found Eph lying dead in the path, after
both had parted from Gerald. , The plot to
exchange clothes with the corpse, drag it to
the furnace, burn away all possibility of
recognition, and thus make it seem to be his
murdered self, was carried out with all the
hot haste of a jealous vengeance. Bavelli
was not an Italian, although very familiar
with the language of Italy, and able by a
natural gift of mimicry to hide himself
from pursuit for a previous crime. Over
look had been a refuge, until his passion for
Mary Warriner led him to abandon his dis
guise. Thereupon, he had turned himself
intoTerrence O'Beagan, a detective, whose
malicious work wrought happiness for
Gerald Heath and Mary Warriner.
Copyright 18S9. All rights reserved.
WIGS FOR THE PAIS.
A Boston Girl Who Wears Several
Colors Bering a Car?.
There is a very pretty young married
woman in society here, writes a Boston cor
respondent of the Albany Argus, who lost
all her beautiful dark locks a year ago
through the use of patent bleaching
preparations. So now she has to wear a
wig until they shall grow out again in
theiroriginal blackness. Batahe makes the
best of the misfortune, and, having a(small
number of artificial coiffures, varying in
shade all the way from straw color to ebony
hue, she is accustomed" to ask, the gentlemen
of her acquaintance jocularly what hair she
shall wear this day or that As long as the
opportunity last, she says, she means to
make the best of it by varying her com
plexion at least three times a week. Her
eccentricity reminds the writer of an old
man he used to know, who always wore an
ordinary brown wig on week days and ablack
wig forbest on Sundays. Such a thing as
wearing differentsortsof bangs on various oc
casions is common enongh among girls, the
correspondent is led to believe. And this
reminds him of a yonng woman he knows
who affects a good deal of the lack of senti
ment and excessively common-sense ways
characteristic of the Boston girL One even
ing not long ago, a young man whom she
cordially disliked had been making her a
visit, gushing over, as usual in his conver
sations, with idiotic compliments. At
length, with an air and accent designed to
be quite irresistible and heart-crushing, he
said:
"My dear Miss P., your hair is so beau
tiful! Should I be venturing too gross a
liberty if I begged you to give me one little
lock of it?"
"Not at all, Mr. K" replied the lady, in
a perfect matter-of-fact tone. "You are
quite welcome." '
And with that she deliberately detached a
small curl from above her pint little ear on
the left side, and gravely presented it, hair
pin and all, to the importunate dude. Of
course he took it He could not perceive
that there was anything else to do. But he
has not been to call on that particular young
woman since, and she indulges great hopes
that he will never come back any more.
i
To Reduce a Swelled Head.
AtUnta Journal. 3
He had been out all night he told the
tourist so but this morning he looked as
fresh as a daisy. "B ," the tourist said,
"how is it'tbatyou 4haven't a 'head' 'this
morning?" "I have, sir, beastly head."
"You don't look like it" "Well, sir,
I'll tell you why. I never look sleepy in
the morning. 1 wet the end of my finger
in cologne and rub my eyelids gently with
if, being careful not to get any in my eye.
In'two. minutes all the sleepy feeling is
cone and I look as if I'd had a full night's
rest Thai's the whel seeret, sir, the waole
HKK."
,-2&$&hjMi
1889.
LIKE JAMES AND JOM
Key. Bodges Compares the Actions of
Many Christians to the
APPEAL OP THE TWO APOSTLES.
ThoHghtlessnes3 is the Point Where We
Are Most Lacking.
THE DEEAD CALAMITY AT JOHXSTOWN
Upon a day in the week befoTe the cruci
fixion, Christ and His Apostles are going
up to Jerusalem. He has just been telling
them the reason for their going. He has been
trying to prepare their minds and to give
them some idea of what they are going to.
He has been trying to make them see the
dark vision of the future, which he sees.
"Behold," He says, "We go up to Jerusa
lem." And this is what will happen there:
"The Son of Man shall be betrayed unto
the chief priests and unto the scribes, and
they shall condemn Hinvto deathand shall
deliver Him to the Gentiles to mock and to
scourge and to crucify Him." It is hard to
see how the words could have been made
plainer.
Immediately, however, after the utterance
of these sad and foreboding, sentences we
read that a contention arose among these
apostles as to which of them was the greatest,
and as to which of them should have the
best place in the kingdom of heaven. And
when we read that we begin to get a dim
conception of Christ's inexpressible loneli
ness. To be alone, in the physical meaning
of the phrase, is not altogether unpleasant
sometimes. There are those who when most
alone are least alone. Out ot their own
thoughts they get sweet and satisfying com
panionship. But mental and spiritual lone
liness is one of the hardest of all trials, the
sense of being misunderstood, the impossi
bility of appreciation, the lack of sympathy,
give bitterness to loneliness. This bitter
loneliness Christ felt to the uttermost
PBACTICAM,Y -4XONE.
Behold Him here, the self-sacrificing, sur
rounded by the self-seekingl James and John
are the worst of these self-seekers, or at least
the most outspoken. Even they have not
the face to go to Him who walks alone and
sad before them, and interrupt Him, urging
their request. They get their mother to go.
With some dim understanding -of the fla
grant unworthiness and unseemliness of
their request, they get behind her. They
put her forward in their place. She comes
and asks Him to grant her something. The
words break in upon His musinz as He
walks, and He stops and asks her what it is.
"What wilt thou?" "Grant thatmy two
sons may sit one on Thy right hand and the
other on Thy left in Thy kingdom! "
There was something worse here than the
utter untimeliness of the request, worse
even than the narrow, petty, office seeking
temper which it showed; jt revealed an utter
misconception concerning the Lord's whole
life. Here was the petty, ambitious, un
spiritual Jewish notion ot an earthly king
dom. Again and again, had He tried to
teach them different from that They would
not be taught They would insist against
His own repeated utterances, that somehow
and somewhere the Lord was going to put
on a splendid purple robe, and take a golden
scepter in His hand, and put a jeweled
crown upon His head, and gather about
Him the armies of Judea, and drive out the
Bomans, and make Jerusalem His capitol,
and be a greater King than David with a
wider kingdom than that of Alexander or
Augustus.
They insisted that there were to be actual
thrones setup somewhere, made of gold
studded with gems, and enriched with elab
orate carvings 13 handsome thrones, Christ
on the most magnificent one in the middle,
and on the six at either side, these Gallilean
peasants, no longer poor men, tax-gatherers,
day laborers, fishing folk, no longer despised
and insulted, but great, stately, rich, power
ful, judging the .twelve tribes of Israel.
James and John are very anxious about get
ting the best seats of all. They will sit, one
on the right hand and the other on the left
of that great central throne."
QUITE A CONTEAST.
"I go," said Christ, "to be betrayed,
mocked, spit upon, to be despised, to be re
jected, to be crucified."
"0, Master," broke in the ambitious
mother, "give James and John the best
thrones in Thy kingdom I"
We can imagine with what sadness in His
face, with what weariness and pain in His
voice, the Master turns and answers, "Ye
know not what ye ask. Are ye able to
drink of the enp that I shall drink of, and
to be baptized with the baptisms that I am
baptized with ?" "Are ye able to endure
the tribulations and the trials which await
me?"
There is not amoment's hesitation. James
and John have 'their eyes upon those two
great, golden thrones. They see a way of
getting above their fellows and seizing the
most profitable and honorable offices. The
path is open to the best seats. They under
stand dimly that some condition or other
lies between. The Lord has asked them if
they are able to do something. What is
there which they will not promise to do if
they may Hut get this prize! And so they
answer, "We are able." Oh, yes, able to
do anything if you will only pledge us those
best thrones. "We are able."
Now you hear in these words the voice of
utter thoughtlessness. And I beg to remind
you that James and John are very common
names. I am afraid that their words are
very common words. I am afraid that I
have said them, and so have you, a good J
many times.
EnilLAB MEANINGS.
For here are words that mean nothing.
They mean quite as much, however, as some
of our own religious promises. We say our
prayers at njght, looking back over the day.
There is the old sin again the besetting sin
of thought or word or deed. We ask God to
forgive us and to help us. We promise to
fight harder against that sin. And then the
next night it is the same thing over again
the same confession, the same prayer, the
same promise. We are thoughtless. We
are thinking aboni something else. We are
saying words with our lips of whose real
-meaning our hearts take but small notice.
We do not really intend to make a great
self-sacrifice, to give up a cherished sin, to
fight any real battle. It is only James and
John over again.
I am alraid that there is still more of this
distance between the lips and the will in the
exercises ot our public worship. How many
of our services, are, for a good many of us,
little more than guild meetings of the great
confraternity of James and John? The
spirit of these foolish brothers descends
upon us. We miss our prayer and praise
entirely. -The service is as much a blank as
the sermon is to the sleeper. The demon of
thoughtlessness has stolen our opportunity.
Some word in the prayer, some note in the
voice of a singer, some sight or sound in the
church takes our attention. "We go on list
ening with our ears and pronouncing sen
tences of praise or petition with our lips,
and we might as weU be whirling a prayer
wheel, so fa? as the spirit of devotion is con
cerned in the matter- Will anybody deny
this? Who will cast the first stone at James
and John?
A FEW QUESTIONS.
I wonder how onr services sound to the
earofGoU?, I wonder how mucj of them
get up to him? Is there a full harmony of
responding voices, or is there only a dim
murmur; here and there, perhaps, a voice
sounding clear, and that only at times? Do
the prayers and promises go up clear and
entire before the throne of grace, or are they
broken and discordant?
Sir Arthur Helps has suggested that it
would be an immense advantage to use a
peculiar kind of ink for printing history,,
such that after a certain time all the untrue
and mistaken portion wonld fade out and
become illegible. What curious reading;
some histories would be after that time had.
pawed I How BiaByaajgiwveg would dis-
I apMM. MTJWTKMMMiM-aTi
tmme-w ,-AH.as.,
how many pages, chapters, and even vol
umes, would become blank paper ! And if
the same ink could be employed by pub
lishers of writings upon themes theological,
what an inestimable, what an unspeakable
gain 1 But suppose now that some spell
were upon us at all prayer times, so that
only the real and true words, the words
which we really meant, should getutterauoe
at all 1 .Suppose that every syllable uttered
alter the James and John fashion should be
silent ! How wonld the service sound ? It
would be queerer than a Quaker meeting.
That is how it does sound in tbefear of God.
MAYERS THAT ABE NOT SUCH.
A good many prayers have no more pray-.
Inn ... .T.A.M .linn f .I.A. tiinn ntltn "ATIO
two, three, four, five," and ended with
"forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty." They have
just as much religious value as the rule of
three. They are not prayer at all.
"Golden vials, full of odors, which1 are the1
prayers of saints." That is what this same
John wrote afterward, when he had grown
a good deal in the grace of God that is
what he wrote about religious utterance
which means something. Golden vials, full
not empty.
I suppose that every company which
comes to take the vows of Christian'disciple
ship has some among the number who are
like James and John, and do not know
what they are doing. And presently when
trial comes as it did come to James and
John, when the promises need translation
into performance, when the soul meets
temptation, when the new-armed soldier has
to fight some real devil, then it happens, as
with James and John, that the pledged dis
ciple finds out for the first time what the
words meant which he took upon his lips.
Pray then, oh Christian brethren, lor James
and John. Sorely do they need it
James and John spoke thoughtlessly, be
cause they listened thoughtlessly. .They
listened to the words of the Master, as peo
ple listen to them to-day, in the Bible, or in
sermons. They were strong, stern words.
They asked a great deal. They spoke of
suffering and sacrifice, of following Him
even unto death. They promised a draught
otthe chalice of woe, and a bath in the bap
tism of pain. But James and John did not
stop to ask what the words meant. Indeed,
if they had stopped, and asked, and been
answered, perhaps' they woujd still have
said, "We are able," jnst as thoughtlessly,
because thev would have mimicized the
meaning of the demand. They wonld have
said within themselves; "It cannot come to
that; it cannot possibly mean all that. Yes,
we are able. Only give us the thrones and
the rulerships."
THOUGHT HECESSABT.
We are forever hearing without thinking,
and reading without thinking. And so the
hearing and the reading do not impress us,
do not carry their meaning into our hearts.
For thinking is the propulsion which drives
ideas into onr minds and lives. It is like
talking into a phonograph. It is the dis
tinctness with which ,you speak which
makes an impression on the wax of the
cylinder which can be reproduced in accu
rate sound. Distinctness is announced
back distinctly. So thoughtful hearing
makes thoughtful promising and thoughtful
performing afterward.
Even strong impressions pass away.
Here are the dreadtul tidings of desolation
and death in the valley of the Conemaugh.
Our hearts are full of it We see in imagi
nation that great and fatal wave hurrying
down upon defenseless villages and towns.
We hear the roaring of the flood
and the cries of the dying. We see
the gleam of the remorseless fire.
We behold a waste of water where stood a
busy city full of people. We wonder about
the number of the dead. We picture the
distress, the agony of the homeless, starved,
grief-smitten survivors. We take all the
dreadful things which have happened in
this city the flood at Butchers' Bun. the
disaster at Twenty-eighth street, he ruin of
Weldin's store; we take them all and mul-tiply-them
by a hundred' and then try to
think of the state of things to-day in Johns
town. And then, by and bye, we forget Some
thing else takes .our attention. The misery
of our friends and neighbors passes ont of
our minds. A blessed thing that forgetful
ness is possible. There is no doubt ot that.
But, in the same way, only more easily and
more speedily, impressions pass away which,
if they stayed, would change onr lives.
God sp'eaks to us and we forget it; we for
get it because we do not thoughtfully
enongh give heed when God speaks.
A NEEDED -WAKTING.
lam sure that we all need warningagainst
this kind of thoughtlessness. Christ does
mean jnst what He says. When He de
clares that he who takes not a cross and fol
lows after Him is . not worthy of Him. He
means just what fie says. When He calls
us to live clean, honorable, helpful lives in
God's sight, He means that. God speaks in
that word straight to every man's heart
"Without holiness no man shall see the
Lord." That is meant to be taken jnst as
it stands. The sermon on the mount is
meant to be.one rule of daily living. The
Bible means just what it says. Not a letter
less. Christianity means the imitation of
Christ, carried into every act, every place,
every thought and evenr minute of every
day nothing Jess.
But we fail to realize this. We hear it
with the inattentive ears of James and
John. And out of such inattentive hearing
comes conventional Christianity. . Con
ventional Christians are like conventional
floweis. And you know that conventional
flowers are stiff, angular and mathematically
uniform suggestions of real flowers. They
run along the frieze of a ceiling, one the
very image of the other. If you have a
strong imagination, or if you have been told
beforehand, you may know what they are
intended to represent, but the grace, the
color, the roundness, the life of the natural
flower are all lacking. The silliest fly
would not take them for flowers. And we
have conventional Christians, cast in
ecclesiastical patterns, yielding to Christian
faith and custom an outward conformity, a
little like real .Christians, yet not real.
There are Christians Christians in name
who have no more conception of what it
means to he a genuine Christian that James
and John had of what they were saying
when they said so confidently, "We ,are
able." From this superficial and unnsual
Christianity, fronf any presence of it in our
wn hearts, good Lord, deliver us.
Geoege Hodges.
TICT1MS OP JtfEYES.
They Are, aa a Rule, Extremely Selnsli
People.
'"Nervous" people, experience shows ns,
are, as a rule, extremely selfish, says the
Boston Herald. La femme nervense is the
moat inconsiderate specimen of her sex.
Her nerves have become a species of fetish
which must be propitiated by the sacrifice
of everybody's comfort except her own. She
considers every action, both of herself and
the world at large, primarily from the point
of view of the effect which it will have on
her nerves. ,If she happened to be omni
potent, she wonld, no doubt, at once stop
the movement of the earth, for fear of its
giving her a "turn." Her sentiment of pity
for the misfortunes of others is entirely
blunted by her horror of the sight of pain
and the sound ot woe.
She exacts the utmost forbearance and
sacrifice from others not for herself, but
for her nerves and exempts herself from
gratitude on the Same grounds. She tends,
in fact, to become completely soulless, ac
cepting all devotion as her due, bitterly re
senting any resistance to her claims, 'and
substituting for all higher spiritual life an
egotistical form of pessimism, which is as
delusive as it is difficult to combat. That
she is not actively cruel is an accident; pas
sively cruel r be is continually, without re
morse or thought, and it is probable that
when provocation and opportunity offered
themselves simultaneously she would not
stay her hand from directcruelty.
AD In the Fnrally.
Burlington Free Press.
Little Boy Mamma, are you really going
to marry an Italian count? ,
-PrettyWidow Tea, rav pet "
xntueoy MeugMetuy; ua,wa j,
BftggJBlia jwJg.nn
THE MKE5IDE SPHIIX
A Collection of EnipaM Ms for
Home CracMng,
Addras communications or tMs department
to E.K. Chadboubit. LewUton, Maine.
617 X MTSTEET. s
O, there are eyes that choose to weep
Their bitter tears with me alone,
But hopelessly from them I seek
A friendly glance when I make moan.
And there are lips that murmur low
Their jojs and griefs Into my ears,
Bnt it were rain from them, I know.
To seek the friendly kiss that cheers.
Thoso eyes and lips may sweetly smile,
Their power I never, never feel;
They never my this heart beguile,
It is to tbem'as-heart of steeL.
Ye readers of the human mind.
Explain for me this mystery-
Why lips and eyes to others kind
Will not bestow a smile on me.
S.
618 TBANSPOSITIOXS.
Give us still the thoughts that jangle
In the tantalizing tangle.
Seeming sense and nonsense mingling
With good rhyme and reason jingling.
fjet ns hear the "Lezzup't" singing
And tho merry "Iddlrr't" rmgine;
With the "aemina's" to rhythmic
With "o rap man" pantomimic.
These may till an honr of leisure
With a restful, harmless pleasure. C.
613 MAGIC SQUAEES TS MAGIC
SQUARES.
Arrange the numbers from 1 to 81 so that ths
whole will make a magic squaro having thn
sum of its lines, files and diagonals the same.
Then, if the margiifal numbers are dropped, a
magic sqnare will still be left, and the process
maybe repeated until bnt one number remains,
which will be the greatest common divisor of
the sums of the several squares.
B.K.KUS
620 AKCIENT BOOKS OF SAGES.
To an old heroic time
Wanders back my babbling rhyme,
When the race great troths were taught,
Clothed in enigmatic thought.
. Wholesome lessons In disguise,
Ambushed for a fall surprise:
To the teachings that concealed
All unconsciously we yield.
A story told in fabled guise
Once caused a monarch's ire to rise;
His judgment on the wretch pronounced
Unwittingly himself denounced.
A woman wise, in widow's weeds.
For this king's own son impleads
Banished and his father mourns,
Till his exiled son returns.
"With her allegory caught,
Captnred in the kindly plot
The sad king may call his own.
With a welcome from the throne.
In what ancient books of lore
Are these tales, and many more;
Knowing that in all the ages
Fables have been used by sages. S.
621 CUETAIL2IEST.
Girls walk funny nowadays;
Some like ropers, who are "high,"
Wiggle, snake like, 'long the ways;
Can a body tell us why?
All intoxicated! prime:
Maybe mad, from fashion's craze;
Tight shoes, is it? makes 'em go.
Funny, moving 'long the ways.
Tieht shoes twos instead of f oars, ,
Cause them to go so strange;
Maybe, ere a year i3 o'er.
Fashion and the walk will change.
ASFXBO.
623 HOUR GIiASS.
Across L Certain boards to game on. 1 Re
lating lo the navel. 3. An altar screen, i. An
inhabitant of Germany. 5. An Insect 6. A
letter. 7. An Insect. 8. Firing of a building.
9. To send forth anew. 10. Hoofed quadrupeds.
11. A certain kind of grass.
Diagonals Down and up, left to right ths
same. Possibility of being remedied.
Centrals Down. Without censure. A.
C23 CHARADE.
Blind must he bo indeed
.")
1
Who takes no loving heed
Of spring's sweet dawn. 'Twere right
To soundly Jr j t the wight.
Fold tired hands, sweet friend,
Let care and worry end.
Second, indeed earth's guest
Who. can't afford to rest.
Blindfold the weary eyes
To vexing shapes that rise.
The bnrden will fit the day:
The third brings ever the way.
Sing songs that thrnsh-like, clear,
Bring to the heart good cheer.
Not grief and misery's dole.
Like him the dreary whole.
JosErncra.
624 VERBAL OCTOPOD.
Mv open month, by eight strong limbs,
In only troubled water swims.
Two members cut from either side.
An ancient monster will abide.
Both sides of me, again bereft,
Still Fomewhat of old times is left
.Cut off agajn from both, my beak
In many an olden tongue can speak,
As Saxon, Latin, Hebrew, Greek.
XT. Cher.
625 EEVEESAIi.
Bead forward I mean give ont or send:
Bead backward something without end.
Nelsostax
ASSWEE3.
608 Moreover. Lnko xvl. 2LJ
609 (6) 3; 64.
610 Caprice, a pnee. price, rice, tee, C.E. E.
611 100 yards long; 7,833.98 sqnare yards in
area.
612 Tastefulness.
613- S
H B H
ARISE
BHRIVEL
TRANSIENT
EVAPORATIVE
REDINTEGRATES
C14 1. Bon-net. 2. Cyg-net 3. Gar-net. 4.
Cor-net. 5. Son-net 6. Hornet 7. Sig-net.
8. SDijr-net. 9. Lin-net. 10. Spi-net. It Gan-
net." 12. Jen-net.
615 Manes, names, means, unean, mane,
amen, men, me, m.
616 Ass-ass-i-natlon.
GREAT TBOOBLES AND SHALL.
Bleetlns a Calamity With a Smile and
Small Annoyance With Rages.
The Tenth's Companion.?
"Man is a bundle of contradictions." Ho
breasts a calamity with a smile, and flies
into a rage at some annoyance. When the
foolish conduct of Landor, the scholar, had
made it necessary for him to sell his per
sonal property, transfer his real estate to his
eldest son, and hurry off to the continent,
he arrived suddenly at Mr. Forster's house
in London while Dickens and other guests
were at dinner.
Dickens hastened to greet his friend, ex
pecting to find him cast down; but the old
man illustrated one of his notable sayings,
"Most things are real to me except reali
ties." He sat upon his bed, and talked in
his most genial vein about Latin poetry.
He went to Florence, and lived in rooms
above those occupied by his friends, the
Brownings, who used to send his dinner up
to him every day.
Dinner was to him an important event
He wonld stand watch in hand as the bonr
drew nigh, and if the dinner was a moment
late, he would seize the dish and throw its
contents out of the window. Mr. Brown
ing's son says that when young he remem
bers seeing a leg of mutton pass the win
dow of his father's room, when it had
been sent to the irritable old man a minute
behind time.
. A Remarkable Motor Plant. ' "
A novel application of electrical trans-. )'
mission is being made at the Nevada Mill
of the Comstock. mines. A head of water
of the height of 1,630 feet after leaTing the
water wheel, k carried down the main shift l
of the Chollar mine, and delivered ripe
six wheels which operate dyBMMs'laTa
chamber excavated at the botteaoftim
baft. Tire dyasHBOs. in turn operate ete-r.
mi mmw aw women miwy.
miwmjBu
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