K'P? UY "FS 'W- h iSFS " J'' THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH PAGES 9 TO 12. ,r. &H - jr. x STILL THE KEYSTONE. Pennsylvania Next to New York on the Committees. SKETCHES OF THE CHIEFS, Including Kelley, O'Keill, Bingham, Atkinson and Oar Dalzell. WHAT THE CHAIRMEN HATE TO DO C0EEISP01TDE3CI OT TIES DISPATCH.: Washington, January 3. Pennsylva nia has fared well at Speaker Heed's hands. The State has eight important chairman ships and its old accustomed place on Ways and Means. This is only surpassed by New York who gets ten chairmanships. Mr. Beed depended on these two States for his election to the Speakership and he has re sponded with the fullest reciprocity. Even when Mr. Blaine was Speaker and his de sire to do his best for the State by his birth might have been counted on for a liberal bestowal of committee honors, Pennsylvania had never over five chairmanships. When Keifer was Speaker this was the number allotted to the State. Counting, as is the custom, that Tom Bayne's appointment to Ways and Means is the equivalent of a chairmanship, Mr. Beed has nearly doubled the usual force of the Pennsylvania Judge Kelley. delegation in the House. Judge Kelly, at the head of the Commit tee on Manufactures, has an important post. To this committee comes a vast amount of legislation effecting the industries of the whole country?' Probably it will have a good deal to say and do with the "World's Fair, and for this, Judge Kelley, by his ser vice as Chairman of the Centennial Commit tee of the House in the Forty-third and Forty-fourth Congresses is peculiarly and thoroughly - equipped. Pennsylvania has had this chairmanship more than once before, J. M. Campbell, of the Johnstown district, hav ing held it in the Forty sixth Congress. The com mittee was created in 1819. as an offshoot of tne Com-) xnittee on Commerce. Un til the second session of the Forty-sixth Congress, it had no assigned duties. Mr. O'ifetZZ. -On the committee with Judge Kelley are three famous millionaire manufacturers Elijah Morse, the Bising "Sun stove polish king, John Sanford, the carpet weaver, and Mr. Arnold, the cotton mill owner of Rhode Island. Mr. O'Neill, who, has so long been the servant or his Philadelphia district, is at the head of the House membership ot the Joint Committee on Library. This committee has charge of all the Con gressional Library works of art about the Capitol, and also of the Botanical Gardens. Mr. O'Neill will have several tons of flowers to give away every session to the pretty wives and daughters of his fellow members, and i, while he is now one of the most popular men in public life, his name at the end of the Fifty-first , congress will doubtless General Bingham. be a household word from Key "West to Seattle. General Bincbam was Chairman of the PostofEce Committee in the Forty-seventh Congress, and has served on that committee continuously nearly all the time he has been in Congress. It was highly appro priate that he should receive the chairman ship now that his party is again in control of the House. "The Father of 2-Cent Post age as he is known, will trv and give the countrv penny postage before his term is out. The committee is one of the oldest in the House. It was a select committee from the First Congress down to 1808, when it was made a standing com mittee and had a member from each State. In December, 1SS5, it was given control of the post office appropriations bill. General Bing ham has a good, strong team of work ers in his committee associates. Dr. Atkinson, Mr. Dr.JUkinson. Yardley and Mr. Scranton have Chairman ships of three auditing committees on Ex penditures in the Treasury, War and State Departments, respectively. These commit tees are quite important to the routine'work of the House and yet do not involve a great amount of hard work. Among many powers enjoyed by these committees is the ability to increase or diminish salaries in the various departments under their surveillance. The result is a decided advantage in getting patronage. The work of these committees was formerly done by the ways ana .Means, but in 1816 separate auditing committees were created for all the Executive de partments. John Dalzell has taken a hard place in accepting the Chairmanship of the Committee on Pacific Boads, This is the com mittee tf which Con John DaUelU gressman Outhwaite has been Chairman two terms. He labored diligentlv. bnt to nn purpose, to secure a settlement of the debt of the Pacific roads to the general Govern ment, and the same problem falls upon the new committee. The workof th cnmTmtu belonged originally to Ways and Means as pertaining to the bonded debt of the United States. In March, 1855, the committee was created, and its powers and duties taken from Ways and Means. Mr. McCormick goes to the head of the Committee on Bailways and Canals, of which be has been a member during his 'first term. To receive such an important chairmanship in his second term shows the confidence the Speak er and his fellow mem bers have in Mr. Mo Cormick's ability. This committee has a great deal of work and wields ft Rtmfttt fnflnnnna n tho business of the House. It was created when the , important question of internal improvements by tne federal Govern- Mr. McCormick. fa? aent was something new in American politics $i,and,was the ontgrowth of discussion on that Buoannt. its title lor 40 Yean after Its I ,-Tr birth in 1831 was the Committee on Boadi and Canals, for in the SO's it was expected that the general Government would become paymas ter for the whole coun try, and go to making the common highways of the land. Taken all in all, the ft Jjk mf$m,m fight committees over which Pennsylvania men will preside and Vnntint. largely control, form a Mr. Terv effective nart of the House organiza tion, and from them during the pending session a great deal of uselul legislation may be expected. THE P. E. E. T. M. C. A. BRANCH. Their Eoomi Crowded With Railroad Em. ployes and Their Famlllea. The Pennsylvania Eailroad branch of the Young Men's Christian Association gave an entertainment of a very enjoyable character yesterday at their rooms. At midday the upper portion of the building was thrown open to every railroad employe or any mem ber ot their family. In this upper chamber a bountiful table was spread, and an invitation was extended to the Pennsvlvania Bailroad Company's employes to least until they were satisfied. From 12 o'clock noon until 7 o'clock in the evening the tables were filled by hungry ones, who must have punished a pile of hard stuff. Everything that is included in the regulation temperance bill of faijcwas provided with an unsparing hand, and those who partook of the edible? spoke well of the affair. Tn the evening an excellent instrumental and vocal concert was given by the em ployes of the Pennsylvania Company, or some member of their family. The various numbers were rendered in good style, and won the hearty applause of a big crowd. The opening selection was an orchestral quartet, followed by a recitation, "Eugene Aram's Dream," Joseph D. Brisson: piano solo; reading and an original poem on the Pennsylvania Bailroad, composed and re cited by Mr. Cleon P. Stile; vocal solo, J. F. Wagner; recitation. Miss Too thill; song, Miss Null, specialties, Horace Mentzer; song. Miss Anna Scott; quartet; instru mental selection, Mr. Miller and children. All the artists were accorded a vote of thanks for their services. Mr. Eberhardt, Treasurer of the associa tion, stated that the building that they were in was much too small. They intended to approach the Pennsylvania Company to see if they could not persuade the company to put up a more commodious, building. Mr. Eberhardt thinks that it a proper requisi tion is handed into the company the present small building will be replaced by a much handsomer structure, and one which will better adapt itself to the varied wants of railroad men. bOMB E1GHT-H0DE OPLNIOMS. Senator Upperman Rather Querulom How It Worka In the Mall Service. Senator Upperman said to a Dispaxch reporter yesterday in regard to the move ment for reducing the hours of labor to eight hours: "The eight-hour system which is now being agitated is a subject for careful con sideration. I cannot say that I indorse the movement at present. Some stronger argu ments will bavo to be used to convince me that to reduce the hours of labor from the standard time will materially benefit the workingman. If a bill came up in the Leg islature embodying the principles as we un derstand them from the agitators of the eight-hour system, I cannot say thatl would support it. xne question to my mind is that a reduction in the hours of labor might be disastrous to the wwkingman himself.' This outcry on the part of agitators is not altogether 'the outgrowth of humanitarian motives. They do not always voice the sentiments of the legitimate workingman, nor do they justly interpret tbeir wants. If a reduction of time from labor is an ab solute necessity, and it is demanded by a majority of our workmen, then I would con sider the matter favorably.and possibly sup port the measure." Mr. Samuel Patterson, postmaster of Sta tion B, said: "The eight-hour system has worked well in the postal service. My observation has been that more work, and done more satis factorily, has been accomplished since the introduction of the eight-hour system. The men have to hustle to get through their work, but they are better able to tackle a heavy day's work, after they have had the proper hours ot rest. The same arguments, which were good to gain the postman this extra rest, might be used with equal effect among large employers of labor." A STOEM WHICH WAS. Captain Lord TelU What Old Ocean Bid With Dli BrttUh Ship. New York, January 3. Captain Lord, of the British steamer Croma. which arrived to-day from Middleboro, reports: "We ex perienced the roughest weather I have ever known. "Op to December 17 we had a suc cession of furious gales. The ship was blown off into the trough of the sea, although go ing at full speed, and became unmanagea ble. We stopped the engines and used a plentiful .supply of oil, which materi ally aided in breaking the crest of the waves. We, however, shipped one fearful sea, which carried everything before it; smashing one boat and damaging others, washing away part of th3 flying bridge, and Injuring several of the crew. "Tke engineer says that part of this sea went down the funnel, the top of which is 56 feet above the water. The water came rushing through the tubes in such volume as nearly to put the fires out, and caused a great commotion among the men below. "On the 18th it blew a heavy gale, and on the 20th the wind attained the force ot a hurricane. During the nightwe shipped a tremendous sea over the bow from the main deck over the upper bridge, about 25 feet high, and finally making its exit over the stern. This sea washed a fireman from the foremast on to the mainbridge, lilting him about 20 feet and landing him among the debris unuer tne staroaara boat. When picked up he was insensible. He received dangerous injuries. Thence to port we ex perienced various kinds of weather, from moderate to heavy westerly gales." OIGHTED BI QUEEIi TIC. The Mannger of the Grand Trunk Railway Hlffhlr Honored. rsrzciAi. telxorjui to the DisrjiTcn.'. Montreal, January 3. The general manager of the Grand Trunk Bail way Com pany will henceforth be known as Sir Joseph Hickton. News was received here to-day that his name was on the list of knighthoods conferred by the Queen yesterday, and the Grand Trunk manager has been receiving congratulatory messages to-day from all parts of England, Europe and America. The general feeling is that the honor is thor oughly deserved, tt has always been thought strange that the management of the oldest railway system of Canada should be passed over, when such men as President Stephen and Donald Smith, of the Canadian Pacific, should have received the honor. Mr. Hickton' victory may be said to be that of the Grand Trunk, as he .has been almost as inseparable from daily duty at his gi as me piers oi tne victoria bridge. His persistency in matters of detail, his grasp of departmental duties, and rigid in sistency upon completing work begun are better known by his assistants than by the public AtonetimetheGrandTrnnkBail wav Was rnnnincF third mnn. tnfRi (h.n had ever been known in the history ot us irai-A. iiue jn me worm. iy PITTSBTJE&, STUDIES IN BRITTANY Wakeman's Wanderings Yield a New Series of Quaint Scenes. THE LAND OP LOVELY CONTRASTS And' Remarkable Antiquities That to an Interesting Era. Point EOBES OP PEIESTS SLAIN IMG AGO. ICOBBESFOOTXNCX OT TBB DISPATCH. I Cabnao, Bkittany, December 16, 1889. On the Atlantic boundary of France, a little north of its central line of latitude,and setting far out into the sea, like some crouching monster sullenly receiving the onslaughts of the tempests, is a piece of rock-buttressed land, traversed by three somber ranges of mountains and innumera ble flashing rivers. The river Loire, winding through the fairest of the valleys of France, cuts behind and below it on the southeast, and after sweeping by the quaint old city of Nantes, mingles its waters with those of the vast Bay of Biscay, which pound and howl among its skirting southwestern islands and headland crags. Its northern walls, almost in a direct east and west line of grandly mas sive parapeted ports, are washed by the cur rents of the English Channel, which, broken by the brunt of the Channel islands, here flow in stately and measured tides, piercing the French coast deeply at the western base of the .peninsula, and forming a majestic sea angle in the noble bay of Cancale. This splendid out-jutting of land, with its ragged fringe of islands and its countless inlets and estuaries, has a greater expanse of coast line than has all the rest of France, from St. Malo to the Belgium outposts, and from the Loire to the sea-abutting Pyrenees which guard Cnstilian lands. Within its con fines are fire departments of France Loire Inferieure and Me Et Vilaiane, stretching from the Loire to the English Channel on the east; Morbihan and Cotes Du NorJ, lying next, to the west, the former on the Bay of Biscay, the latter on the channel; and the fifth, Finistere, the "Land's End" of the French, in whose sea-foaming jaws sits the city of Brest, where, through the channel of Goulet, flash and gleam the mighty naval armaments of France, under those vast and impregnable ramparts begun by France's greatest Cardinal, Richelieu, and completed by the then empire's grand est military author and engineer, Sebastian L. Prestre Vauban. Geographically, this is Brittany. rOKTBY OF ABT IN PASTOEAL SCENES. It is a land of somber mountains broken by limpid lakes and flashing rivers where foreign anglers ever are, and where forest ers hack and trim in the olden way as Troyoa's brush has painted; of valleys stretching far and desolate and vales of sweetest pastoral scenes; of Boman roads and crumbling walls; of sunken lanes, hewn stiles and milestones; of olden cities with cathedrals vast and splendid; of sleeping villages with qnaintest chapels and altars; of roadside shrines and startling crucifixes standing tall and dark against the horizon; of tended herds of cattle, and guarded flocks of fowls; of strange, great houses with high-peaked roofs, whose upper stories seem to boil up from and over each other; of processions with banners and pilgrimages with offerings; of chateaus and chalets gleaming from nests of firs; of great avenues of beeches like grim sentinels behind the fierce walls of (princely possessions; of wild,brown marshes of silfwhere no living thing ever circles above; of ruined castles of the past, and mighty fortresses of the present; of marvel ous monuments in stoue to the superstition T or valor ot unknown ana unrecorded pagan ages; and of air and sky and wind and weather so strange, changeable and wonder ful in their mystic, wizard effects upon all that the eye may behold, or the fancy wreathe into glowing tangibility, that more painters have plodded and pothered within it than ever saw Italy but one. the poor man, Millet, of Barbazon; ever setting be fore the world true limnings of its pictur esque, sometimes merry, but oftener pathet ically sodden, peasantry. Scenically, this is Brittany. Here are 3,000,000 more people pecnliar and interesting than can befonndinany other equal space in Europe. Since there is any record of them they have stood here in this granite-buttressed peninsula, self-contained, sell-sustained, isolated. The mighty waves of Teutonic encroachment have never touched them. QUITE SEP ABATE CIVILIZATIONS. The splendid civilization of the "tight lit tle island" just across the channel there, has remained farther from them than it has from India. Though its population is one-twelfth of that of all France; though all its cities are reached by rail in a few hours from Paris; its people have sturdily retained their own Individuality in traditions, cus toms, dress and language, to that degree that, at least, in language, thought, manner and every-day life, Breton folk are less French to-day than Irishmen in Ireland are .tinglisn. i do not enow what tne aristoc racy ol Brittany may be, for the aristocraoy anywhere fill the least of the real world's space, but the people of Brittany, the peas antry and Hie-lowly of Breton cities, pos sess certain remarkable characteristics. Women and men alike are beasts of burden. All refuse and resent innovation. Each seems contented with his or her lot. You can interest none in other ways of living, or life in other lands. The birth and the christening; the youthtide of drudgery, back-bent, dirt-grubbing days with open mouthed, snoring nights and the same old rounds ot toil; the ogling and momentary courtship at the feast and "Pardon" days;, the marriage when all who know the couple bring wretched gifts and feast upon them until the pair have a legacy of poverty so irrevocable at the outset that their lives are mortgaged until death; the illimitable child-bearing and drudgery of the wife who is now a legal slave brutally mastered to the end of her lite; the starved old age as men dicants at the mercy of their children, or in the shadows of wayside inns and church doors; and then the'shriving and dumnlnir ot the poor old carcasses into consecrated ground; is the trne picture, stripped of its poetry, as the firm, just hand of Millet has alone placed it upon canvas, of the average Breton peasants' lives. There are softer blendings and tenderer side pictures, though. Through the grime and slime of their hard, cold lives a few things must stand luminously revealed. BEVEBENTIAD LOVE FOB THEIB BABES. Their love of and reverence for babes are something wondrously touching. No Breton mother Will nurse her infant without first crossing herself. No Breton youth, woman or man, will ever pass an infant anywhere without repeating for it a blessing. No mother with a babe in her arms is ever met without evoking a tender "God bless youl" from the passer. And one holding deadly hatred will not strike his enemy if that enemy'? arms infolds a child. Again, like the Irish and it must be borne in mind that the people of Ireland and those of Brittany are the closest of kin and from one common Celtio stock the affection and quick-hearted clinging to family ties and to neighborhood and communal yearnings, find here univer sal expression to a degree which al most approaches pathos, when one comes to know it as it it. I have sometimes wondered If this birth-spot at tachment proved greatest where a race has greatest age. You may trace the ancient Irish 4,000 years. There is certainly an an tiquity here carrying an unbroken line of tradition and undoubted mystio history that far toward the beginning. So .these dumb folk, rooted to bo immeasurable a past, hug SATUEDAY, JANUARY 4, 1890. it to their hearts as the best, the grandest, of tneir consciousness save one otner thing. Their eyes will glow, their forms straighten, tbeir breasts heave and swell, at the slight est kindling of the memory-fires that for ever barn before the altars of their mythioand mystic heroes and legendary gods. The race of warriors from whom they sprang, the glorious deeds of their mythological knights, the mar velous mysticisms of those vanished Drnidie workers of weird and awful BPeUs thread the warp and woof of ballad, taie ana song, in sucn wonarous rienness ot texture, that one stands dismayed before it in the effort to discern where paganism was ended and Christianity began. That other one thing supreme to Breton folk, whatever may be first to yon and me, is their religion. They are not bigots, for they know bat one. Whether its influence overmastered them, or whether their stolid independence of spirit shaped its final fitting to them, is no matter. It is the food and breath of their. lives, and I defy any, '1st that lives to come among tnem ana know the simple, stead fast, unquestioning loyalty to their faith, and not love them the more for what it is to them, and they to it. Sociologically, this is Brittany. DON'T HAVE TO DIG FOB THEM. But here I am at wraith-environed Car nacl Savans dig and peck away for rem nants of the cast-off shells of lost races and ages in nil the lands fringing the Mediterra nean. Yet here at Carnac, in the very Brit tany of Brittany, and at the very threshold of Europe, are imperishable remains of the activities of people and a time so remote that archffiologists are dumb in the presence of what no learning has yet been able to inter pret and reveal. I think the stndy of rude stone monuments and these silent, awe-inspiring reminders ol the post grows on one with strange -and increasing fascination. I wandered among the splendid antiquities of Ireland for a year. The last day's wander ing and wondering was infinitely more im pressive than the first. So, on entering Brit tany, I was all impatience to see the vast fields of pillar stones the aneient Celts had here raised in the same inexplicable way, evidently for the same inexplicable purpose, and have consciousness, for myself, of the kinship of those prehistoric races who have left such mighty monuments to pagan mys ticisms upon almost every square rood of these westernmost European lands. The plains of Carnac would be indescribably dreary were these thousands of stone monu ments not standing upon them. But under neath wintry skies, whipped and beaten by storms of wind and sleet, and ghostly as a vast graveyard with these monumental stones, the belief that pagan races sought the saddest and dreariest places nature pro vided for the burial of their dead, is given startling emphasis here. A vast tumulus, or mound of stones, once a pagan bnrial place, about 100 feet in height and now surmounted by a chapel and Calvary dedicated to St Michael, to which pilgrimages are made, stands almost : u r .u- J l.. mt iu buc venter ui iuo ueauiuic expanse, xuis is called Mont St. Michael. From its top tne entire plains oi uarnac may be seen, with their countless pillar stones, peuivens, or menhirs, and many grimmer and vaster cromlechs or dolmens. ftr MEMOBY OF DEAD PAGANS. As is well known, the former are believed to be simply stone monuments to pagan dead. They vary from 6 to 18 feet in height above the soil. Hundreds upon hundreds have fallen and are partly covered with furze and brambles. Countless thousands were destroyed by theefforts of Charlemagne and later under a canon of the Council ot Nantes, especially enacted to effect the destruction of pagan monuments. Old chroniclers assert that over 20,000 stood on these fields before that time. If, as some assert, each menhir or stone served as memo rial of the death of numbers bv Druidio sacrifice, what an awful olden slaughter-pen one stands upon at Carnac I Here and there within sight of Mont St. Michael are many huge nd:sUirtodre"welrdIy suggestive dol mens, the exact prototypes of 181 1 person ally inspected of the 226 cromlechs known to exist in Ireland. These consist of up right stones, held in their vertical position dj Horizontal suds oi immense proportions. At Carnac some are from 10 to 15 feet in height, with capping stones from 12 to 20 feet in length, and from 2 to 4 feet in thick ness. But two miles from Carnac, near the village ot Plouharnel, hre several immense dolmens, one, covered by three tremend ous stones, being nearly CO feet long. These dolmens are thought to have been the raised places where Drdidic sacri fices took place before assembled thousands, and the chambers within the burial places of the victims. It is certain that they were pagan burial places, for there have been re covered Irom every one half-burned bones of human beings, ciiwerarv urns, stone weap ons, gold torques and other rude ornaments. The pillar stones still standing upon Car nac fields are seen principally clustered in three distinct ranges or avenues; and all are to the north and northeast of the village. The most eastern grouping is known as Ker lescant. The central and smallest grouping is called Kermario, and the western and largest field is generically named the Stones of 'Carp. AVENUES 3,000 YEABS OLD. At first each of these seems a confused mass, but as the eye becomes familiar, long and sinuous avenues are distinctly traced; and the curious fact will impress the keen observer that in all threes f these vast col lection ot pillar-stones the lines and ave nues, from eight to eleven in each still be ing easily followed, converge rapidly as their eastern termini are npproached; the theory,as held by some archaeologists, being that the three great series still visible anH perhaps, hundreds of others effaced within the 3,000 or 4,000 years since they were erected, all once led to the most sacred and eastern point at Locmariker, some fifteen miles distant, where there is still to be seen a fallen and broken, but tremendous, mono lith, which, ns the loftiest member or "long stone of the suu," stood above the grave of the greatest Celtic chieftain. All this, however, is theory. But it is not theory that you stand among the most impressive monuments ot pre historic days. To the south are the brown roof-peaks of Carnac. Beyond" the steely blue sea and the far-reaching landarm of Quiberon. From the northeast around by Auray far around the southern ontlook to the northwest, is savage moor Iringed coast. To the north, as lar as the eye can reach js a wind-whipped waste, studded with these gray relics of the past The wind whistles and moans among them grewsomely. It shakes the brambles about them wildly. It beats the stunted firs until tbey toss along the horizon edge like the manes of chargers spurred to conflict or flight. And beyond, low, jagged clouds sweep and drilt as it tremendous hosts of pagans old were re-entering their tenantless plains to reoccupy their voiceless land. Descending Jrom Mont St. Michael and taking one's way among Breton folk of fau bourg and field, this tremendous perspective must be kept behind theui, if you would en deavor to walk beside them in fact and thought. That Christianity might prevail in Brittany countless Druldic priests and priestesses were ruthlessly slain. Before those unsearchable altars set secure in human hearts, their white robes still gleam and sway, and the spell of the mystic rites is upon tne Breton folk of to-day. Edoab Jj. Wakeman. BOUTIIEEir PfiOTECTIQKlSTS Appeal to McKlnlev. of tlie Opposition, to Help Them aa Hemp KaUera. Lkxing-ton, Kt., January a Petitions signed by COO hemp producers, workingmen and business men, was sent from here to night to Chairman McKinley, of the Ways and Means Committee, asking that the pres ent tariff on hemp be maintained, and that all foreign fibers be kept off the free listi It is estimated that the hemp industries fur nish employment to 12,000 people in Central Kentucky during the winter, and to a small number the entire year. THE BLACK BOX. OHN BBOWN was very busy; he was the man in charge of the parcels office at the Great B Junction. It was New Year's Eve: the par- nala TiAnvarl in anH his Inlands were fall. Five rtJimuies oeiore mo ex press started for London, a tall woman, close! v jfcfcveiled, entered the office, 7" F"followed byla porter, bearing a long black box. "I wish to lea76 this box," she said in a low voice, with a slight foreign accent, address ing John Brown; then turning abruptly to the porter she slipped a coin into his hand and disappeared as sud denly as she bad entered. "Thankee, ma'am," said the man, pock eting the money. It was a cold night, bnt drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. "That were a heavy one to carry," be mut tered as he le't the office. The box he had just put down was an old-fashioned, long black trunk, of a lumbering, bygone shape. Brown duly entered it in his book, and looked out into the crowded platform after the tall, graceful figure of the owner. The stranger herself had taken a seat in the London express, and was being whirled away into the darkness, forgetting to call for her luggage, which lay unclaimed in the corner of the parcels office in the same place where the porter had put it down ten min utes ago. Midnight had struck. Brown prepared to go home; he had sorted all the parcels; many people had called and taken away their baggages, etc.; but a great number still remained unclaimed. As he glanced over the latter his eyes fell on the long black box. "That's a rum-haped article," he said to himself, "and a queer party as left it here. She's never called for it. It takes an un common lot of room; it's full oi valuables, I fancy; leastways she gave Jim 10 bob for carrying it. I saw the gold for all he shoved it in his pooket so sharp. Here he bent down and examined the lid in search of a label or address of some kind, bnt there was nothing not a letter or mark on it. He turned it over to examine the other side. "Whew," he exclaimed in amazement as he felt its weight, "no wonder Jim said it was a heavy one." It was like lead. Brown had lifted many a heavy box before, but never had he felt this strange dull weight. The other side was equally as bare nola bel or address of any kind. He lelt vague ly disappointed, without knowing why. As he walked slowly down the street to his lodging, his thoughts revolved over the possible contents of the black box. His cariosity rose higher than ever. "It must have been valuable," he argued to himself; "she gave him half-a-quid for car rying it." As he wondered over this extra ordinary liberality he paused, and clinking the office keys, he said aloud, "I've half a mind so go back." Almost as he uttered the words he began to retrace his steps; two or three sleepy porters met him on the plat form, and stared in surprise at his reappear ance. ' "Back again? What's up, Jack?" said one. "Nothing," he answered hurriedly. "Dropped a shilling somewhere in the office; I must go and look for it." He opened the door almost timidly, and lit his lamp once more. There lay the black box where he had left it. He locked the door, seated himself on a small, unclaimed port- tnantflan SnfY atarod stth VAnawa.7 into a. at the long flat trunk before him. "I'll do I itl" he muttered at last, and, kneeling down) he tried all his keys, with trembling fingers, in the lock; one proved successful; he turned it round more firmly and raised the lid, A black shawl hid the contents; taking it off in breathless excitement a'aight met his gaze which filled him with horror. He remained as if paralyzed. His red face paled to his very lips, cold and rigid; his heart gave one bound and then seemed to stop beating. There lay, framed in that strange case, a young ana lovely girl, scarcely more than a child; her fair hair streaming over her shoulders, her blue eyes widely staring, the mouth parted in a smile, the slender figure clad in a dark blue riding habit, and one little gloved hand still grasped a riding whip. MechanicallyBrown took in all these de tails till his terrified gaze fell finally on a glistening object in the breast of the dark habit. With ashakiug hand he brought his lamp nearer; its glare revealed the hilt of a strangely-carved knife, and all around it a dark and terrible stain. With an inarticulate cry John Brown fell back, overturning the lamp. James, the porter, who had been so hand somely rewarded by tne mysterious lady, was eettinsrvery cold and tired. It was nearly his off-duty hour; as he pawed he 0 iJnfCSrru IH ' i IiIRtIiiI liB fillB. I !M 111 nruW Hi .lip I ifflSiiiii, iHilllr Ittflffi. JL I-pHI Hf Jgijv j9a u-;iiiiiiii!ii WtMWkamLJJmWk IF A III llhfiiMllli parcels office he knocked at the door to know if Brown was still there. No one answered, and seeing no light he was about to pats on, when ha heard a voice so unlike Brown's ordinary brisk tones that he hardly recog nized it, calling to him, "Jim. is that you?" "Yes," answered Jim, surprised. "Are you coming home? You've beeu a long time looking for that there shilling." The door opened slowly and Brown stag gered out a step. ' "Come inside and give me a lighi I've upset the lamp," he said still in that hoarse, strange voice. Jim entered and struck a match. The lid had fallen to, and, except that the big box was dragged to the middle of the floor, the office looked much the same as usual; but as he glanced at his companion's face and remarked its unusual pallor, he uttered an exclamation of surprise. "What is up?" he said, roused from his sleepiness and fatigue. With trembling voice, Brown asked him if he remembered bringing in that long box to his office. "Of course I do," said the porter, grinning at the recollection. "She were a good sort, too, as brought it; she tipped me ten bob!" and he dived his hand complacently into his pocket. Bat when Brown proceeded to re late the awful discovery his ill-timed curiosity had brought about, Jim's face grew as pale as Brown's own; and, as the latter finished his dreadful account by rais ing the lid of the box, the porter started vio lently and rushed to the door. But Brown caught him frantically by the arm. "Jim. don't leave met Vnr hesurn' sake tell me what's to be done!" he gasped. "I can't tell anybody about it, or I shall get 1 the sack for having opened it, and maybe they'll think I had a hand in itl I can not stay here with that lying in the office, wait ing for the woman to call for it, which I am certain she never means to do!" Jim conld only stare in stUDefied horror at the body of the fair girl lying in the black, heavy trunk at their feet, revealing a-erime cruel And terrible-aghasfly'trageay concealed from the eyes of the world. When John Brown's trembling hold re laxed upon the lid, the dull thnd as it closed roused both men with a shudder. For some minutes thev remained silent, then James said in a whisper "I have itl" The up-traln leaves at 730 a. m. to-morrow; you lock up the box, and shove it outside the moment the trains come in. I'll be ready, and clap a label on it to Pr1dington, and the first passenger as has any luggage, I'll shove that on the truck, put his things on the top, and send it off!" Brown jumped at this idea of a quick de liverance Irom his painlul dilemma. As the porter finished, he seized his hand and shook it. "You're a sharp 'un," he said, his haggard face taking a tinge of its usual color in his wild excitement. "It's the very thing. If ever yon want a turn done, I'll help you, that I will! When thev find it at the other end, why it's the police's business to ferret out who murdered that poor vouug creature anyway it wasn't me, and I shan't nave it lying mere; even wnen the lid is shut I seem to see her face. I'll put it ready for yon outside the minute the train comes in. You are a sharp 'nnl" he re peated; "I should never have thonght of that plan." Jim looked gratified in spite of his fright and consternation. Mr. Brown was usually rather above him, and be felt elated at the way his plan had been received. .Brown himself was still completely unhinged by the shock he bad received! his usual sharn- I ness had deserted him, and his reeling brain couia lorm no better plan, ur tne conse quences he could not dream; he only felt an overpowering longing to be rid of the black box and its fearful secret, He and Jim paced the deserted streets, cold and sleep alike forgotten. At 6 o'clocs, in the dark coldness of the New Year's morning, they returned to the station to await the arrival of the up train. CHAPTER EL Only one passenger alighted on the plat form of B Jnnction, and stood shiver ing in the raw air of that New Year's Day, 1878; a tall, handsome man, with a bronzed, care-worn face, dark eyes, and hair streaked with gray his whole air bore the traces of great grief, and impressed a stranger with the ideaot a man whose life has been marred by sorrow, which was enhaneed by he expression of stern melancholy about the mouth. ,Xhis, man wasno otMzthaa . 0)LJ bliiiiiiiiii r Grenfell Eeerton, the celebrated African explorer, whose wonderlnl adventures and discoveries had been the topic of conversa tion in b11 literary society -for many years. He landed in England late on New Year's Eve, and had resumed his Journey by the first train to London, where he was to meet his daughter, after an absence of 15 years. He had left her a baby of 2 years, and even now it was Jess affection that brought him once more to England and his child than, necessity, for three months ago he had become possessed of an enormous fortune, and the trustees most urgently requested bim to return to claim his property. Most unwillingly Mr. Egerton left the ii shores of Africa and in due course arrived in England on New Year's Eve, as befors mentioned. He had a very unusual quart, tity of luggage (for a man) great boxes and chests, containing many strange and rare treasures, collected in his long wander isgs all the past years. All the luggage was labeled Paddington. As the traveler stepped into the express and his belongings were placed in the van be hind him, there was yet another box added to the pile a long, heavy, black box, also labeled Paddington. "All yours, sir?" shouted a porter, as Mr. Egerton alighted at the terminus. "Yes," answered the traveler, briefly glancing at the pile of luggage and feeling bewildered by the noise and bustle of the great railway station, after the solitndei to which he had been so long accustomed. At las fit was all arraflgfd on the top of tho four-wheeler, to the porter's and cabman's satisfaction, and Mr. Egerton was rattled off to his town house quite oblivious of the awful secret he was bearing with him. His thoughts turned with strange pain and lodging to his only child, the daughter whom be had hardly seen. Once or twice a year she wrote him a short, affectionate letter, and he answered it by sending some . present back from Africa, a strangely carved bangle, paper knife, etc., and in this way bad satisfied his conscience he was do ing all that was expected of him . The death of his beloved wife Lucy Egerton and of his infant son had affected the whole course of his life. He had thrown up every occupation, put his little daughter under the charge of a French governess of his wife's, before her marriage, turned his back upon home. En gland, friends and child, and buried himself in the wilds of Africa, hoping to stifle sor row in a life of hardship and adventure, where he was soon forgotten by all save a few literary friends, who watched bis prog ress and discoveries with a sort of faint in terest, and his little, lonely, deserted child, wbo passed her days in alternate monoto nous visits from the dull country house to th&dreary town residence, both left by Gren fell Egerton's express desire in exactly the same order as when occupied by his fair bride-wife. As he stood on the steps of his old home in Queensgate square a flood of memories rushed over him, and on entering the drawing room so well remembered, though so long unentered, again he seemed to see his wife sitting at the little writing table, with the light on her fair hair. The room, except for that dear presence, was ex actly as he had left it; so far his orders had been most carefully attended to. Would his daughter be like her? It bad always been his fancy that he would one day trace the features of his lost Lucy in his child's face. With a strange feeling he beard the rustle of a woman's dress. The door opened, and his daughter stood before him. One glance at the girl standing timidly, half afraid to advance, near the door, ana Grenfell Egerton felt a cold wave of disap pointment, and his momentary affectionate feeling died away as he bent down and gave the girl a cold kiss; A flush of color rose from her neck to her white forehead, but she did not return hit embrace, and stood with downcast eyes be fore her newly restored father. Many a man would have envied Grenfell Edgerton; the girl was beautifull A slight but perfect figure, oval face, with dark, dreaming eyes (ringed with black lashes, her color pale but delicate, and a wealth of dark hair wound in heavy plaits round a small, well-shaped head; her month was small and sensitive.its expression was proud and sad; her hand and feet were alike small and beautifully shaped, a girl to be proud of. Yet the father only felt a vague unreason ing disappointment as his eyes took in all the details of the girl's beauty. "You are not like your mother," he said at last to break the awkward pause which followed his embrace, and his face and voice alike betrayed a feeling ot resentment. If only hl boy had lived, he thought bitterly; what use was all this -wealth to be at the disposal of a girl, for he himself cared noth ing for 'the money so unexpectedly be-.. J m i 3 t r i i ---.-. a" 2 - ' . - J V.Y-V u ? .. !& f - r 'r y
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers