"- 1 LV i LFS ip iV r ft fc 4 r 10 "Voui voila enfin et moi, qui suis accablee de penr, et yotie cbere mere anssi; oh, mais que c'st mechante; et regardez done, aveo un Soulier seulement. Maisc'est affrenx!" "Hold vonr tongue," said Geoffrey sharp ly, "and leave Miss Effie alone. She came to see me." Anne ejaculated, "Hon Dieul" once more and collapsed. "Beally, Geoffrey." said hi" wife, "the way you spoil that child is something shocking. She is as willful as can be, and vou make her worse. It is very naughty of her to run away like that and give us such a hunt. How are we to get her home, I won der, with only one shoe." Her husband bit his lip, and his forehead contracted itself above the dark eyes. It was not the first time that he and Lad v Hon oris had come to words about the child, with whom his wile was not in sympathy. In deed she had never lorgiven Effie for appear ing in this world at all. Lady Honoria did riot belong to that class of women who think maternity is a joy. "Anne"," he said, "take Miss Effie and carry her till yon can find a donkey. She can ride back to the lodgings." The nurse murmured something in French about the child being as heavy as lead. "Bo as I bid vou." he said sharply, in the same language. "Effie, my love, give me a kiss and go home. Thank you for coming to see me." The child obeyed and went. Lady Ho noria stood and watched her go, tapping her little toot upon the floor, and with a look upon her cold, handsome face that was not altogether agreeable to see. It had sometimes happened that Geoffrey in the course of his married life returned home with a little of that added fondness which absence is fabled to beget. On these occasions he "as commonly so unfortunate as to find that Lady Honoria belied the say ing, that she greeted him with arrears ot grievances and was, if possible, more frigid than ever. "Was this to be repeated now that he had come back from what was so near to being the longest absence of all? It looked like it. He noted symptoms of the rising storm, symptoms with which he was buttooweli acquainted, and both for his own sake and lor hers for above all things he dreaded those bitter matrimonial bickerings tried to think of something kind to say. It must be owned that he did not show much tact in the subiect he selected, though it was one which might have stirred the sympathies of some women. It is so difficult always to re member that one is dealing with a Lady Honoria. "If ever we have another child" he be gan gently. "Excuse me for interrupting yon," said the lady with a suavity which did not, how ever, convey any idea of the speaker's in ward peace, ''but it is a kindness to prevent you from going on in this line. One dar ling is ample lor me." "Well," said the miserable Geoffrey, with an effort, "even if you don't care much about the child yourself, it is a little un reasonable to object because she cares for me and was sorry when she thought I was dead. Beally, Honoria, sometimes I wonder if you have any heart at all. "Why should you be put out because Effie got up early to come and see me? an example which I must admit you did not set her. And as to her Ehoe " he added, smiling. "You may laugh about her shoe, Geof frey,"' she interrupted, "but you forget that even little things like that are no laughing matter to us. The child's shoes keep me awake at night sometimes. Defoy has not been paid for I don't know how long. I have a mind to get her sabots and as to heart" "Well," broke in Geoffrey, reflecting that bad as was the emotional side of the ques tion, it was better than the commercial "as to 'heart?' " "You are scarcely the person to talk of it, that is all. I wonder how much of yours you gave me?" "Really, Honoria," he answered, cot without eagerness, and his mind filled with wonder. Was it possible that his wife had experienced some kind of "call," and was about to concern herself with his heart one way or the other? If so it was strange, for she had never shown the slight est interest belore. "Yes," she went on rapidly and with gathering vehemence, "you speak about your heart" which he had not done "and yet you know as well as I do that if I had been a girl of no position you would never have offered me the organ on which you pretend to set so high a value. Or did your heart run wildly away with you, and drag us into love and a cottage a flat I mean. If so, I should prefer a little less heart and a little more common sense.'' Geoffrey winced, twice indeed, feeling that her ladyship had hit him, as it were, with both barrels. Eor, as a matter of fact, he had not begun with any passionate devo tion; and again, Lady Honoria and he were nowjut as poor as though they had really married for love. "It is hardly fair to go back on bygones and talk like this," he said, "even if your position had something to do with it; onlv at first, of course, you must remember that when we married mine was not without at tractions. Two thousand a year to start on and a baronetcy and 8,000 a year in the near future were not but I hate talking about that kind of thing. "Why do you iorce me to it? Nobody could know that my uncle, who was so anxious that I should marry vou, would marry himself at his age and Lave a son and heir. It was not my fault. Honoria. Perhaps you would not have? marrred me if you could have foreseen it" "Very probably not," she answered camely, "and it is not my fault that I have not yet learned to live with peace of mind and comfort on seven hundred a year. It was hard enough to exist on two thousand till your uncle died, and now " "Well, and now, Honoria, if you will only have patience and put up with things for a little, you shall be rich enough; I will make money for you, as much money as you want. I have many friends. I have not done so badly at the Bar this year." "Two hundred pounds nineteen shilling and seven pence, minus ninety-seven pounds' rent ot chambers and clerk," said Lady Honoria, with a disparaging accent on the seven pence. "I shall double it next year, and donble that again the next, and so on. I work from morning till night to get on, that yon may have what you live for," he said, bitterly. "Ah, I shall be 60 before that happy day comes, and want nothing but scandal and a bath chair. I know the bar," she added with acid wit. "You dream, you imagine what you would like to come true, but you are deceiving me and yourself. It will be like the story of Sir Robert Bingham's property once again. "We shall be beggars all our days. I tell you, Geoffrey, that you had no right to marry me." Then at length he lost his temper. This was not the first of these scenes they had grown frequent of late, and this bitter water was constantly dropping. "Eight?" he said, "and may I ask what right you had to marry me when you don't even pretend you ever cared one straw for me, but jnst accepted me as you would have accepted any other man who was a tolerably good match? I grant that I first thought of proposing to you because my uncle wished it, but if I did not love you I meant to be a good husband to you, and I would have loved you if you would let me. But you are cold and selfish; you looked upon a hus band merely as a stepping stone to luxury; you have never loved anybody except your self. If I had died last night'l believe that you would have cared more about having to go into mourning than for the fact of my disappearance Irom your life. You showed no more feeling for me when you came in than you would have if I had been a stranger not so much as some women would have for a stranger. I wonder sometimes if you have any feeling left in you at all. I should think that you treat me as you do be cause you do not care for me and do care for some other pemon did I not know you to be utterly incapable of caring for anybody. Do tou want to make me hate vou?" Goeffrey low, concentrated voiceand earn-" est manner tola nis wile, who was watching Him with something like a smile upon her clear-cut lips, bow deeply he was moved. He had lost his seli-coutrol, and exposed his heart to ber a thing he rarely Jid, and that in itself was a triumph which she did not wish to pursue at the moment. Geoffrey was not a mail to push too far. "It you have quite finished, Geoffrey, there is something I should like to say " "Oh. curse it all I" "Yes?" she said calmly and interroga tively, and made a pause, but as he did not specially apply his remark to anybody or anything, she continued: "If these flowers of rhetoric are over, whit I have to say is this: that I don't intend to stay in this hor rid place any longer. I am going to-morrow to my brother Garsington. They asked us bothj you may remember, but for reasons best known to yourself you would not go." "You know my reasons very well, Hono ria." "I beg your pardon. I have not the slightest idea what they were," said Lady Honoria with conviction. "May I hear them?" "Well, if you wish, to know, I will not go to the house of a man who has well, left mv club as Garsington leit it, and who, had it not been for my efforts, would have left it in an even more unpleasant and conspicu ous fashion. And his wife is worse than he is-" "I think you are mistaken," she said coldly, and with the air of a person who shuts the door of a room into which she Mile to Gel Up. does not wish to look. "And, any way, it all happened vears ago and has blown over. But I don't'see the necessity of discussing the subject further. I suppose that we shall meet at dinner to-night. I shall take the early train to-morrow." "Do what suits you. Perhaps you would prefer not returning at all." "Thank you, no. I will not lay myself open to imputations. I shall return to you in London and will make the best ota bad business. Thank heaven, I have learned how to bear my misfortunes," and with this Parthian shot she left the room. Eor a minute or two her husband felt as though he almost hated her. Then he thrust his face into the pillow and groaned. "She is right," he said to himself; "we must make the best of a bad business. But, somehow, I seem to have made a mess of my life. And yet I loved her once lor a month or two." This was not an agreeable scene, and it may be said that Lady Honoria was a vulgar person. But not even the advantage of having been brought up "on the knees of marchionesses" is a specific against vul garity, if a lady happens, un ortunately, to set her heart, what there is of it, meanly on mean things. CHAPTEB VUL EXPLAKATOBT. Abont 2 o'clock Geoffrey arose, ana, with some slight assistance from his reverend host, struggled into his clothes. Then he had luncheon, and while he did so Mr. Granger poured his troubles into his sympa thetic ear. "My father was a Herefordshire farmer, Mr. Bingham," he said, "and I was brednp to that line of life myself. He did well, my father did. as in those days a careful man might. What is more, he made some money by cattle dealing, and I think that turned his head a little; anyway he was minded to make 'a gentleman of me,' as he called it. So when I was 18 I was packed off to be made a parson of, whether I liked it or no. Well, I became a parson, and for four years I had a curacy at a town called King ton, in Herefordshire, not a bad sort of little town perhaps you happen to know it "While I was there my father, who was getting beyond himself, took to speculating. He built a row of villas at Leominster, or at least he lent a lawyer the money to build them, and when tbey were built nobody would hire them. It broke my father; be was ruinedover those villas. I've always hated the sight of a villa ever since, Mr. Bingham. And shortly afterward he died, as near bankruptcy as a man's nose is to his mouth. "Alter that I was offered this living, 150 a year it was at tha best, and like a lool I took it. The old parson who was here be lore me left an only daughter behind him. The living had ruined him, as it ruins me, aqd, as I say, he lejt his daughter, my wife that was, behind him, and a pretty good bill for dilapidations I had against the estate. But there wasn't any estate, so I made the best of a bad business and married the daughter, and a sweet, pretty woman she was. poor dear, very like my Beatrice. only without the brains. I can't make out where Beatrice s brains come irom indeed, for I'm sure I don't set up for having any, She was well born, too, my wife was, of au old Cornish family, but she had nowhere to go to, and I think she married me because she didn't know what else to do and was fond of the old place. She took me on with it, as it were. Well-it turned out pretty well, till some 11 years ago, when our boy was born, thongh I don't think we eyer quite understood each other. She never got her health back after that, and seven years ago she died. I remember it was on a night wonderfully like last night mist first, then storm. The boy died a few years afterward. I thought it would have broken Beatrice's heart; she's never been the same girl since, but always full ot queer ideas I don't pre tend to follow. "And as for the life I've had of it here. Mr. Bingham, you wouldn't believe it if I was to tell you. The living is small enough, but the place is as full of dissent as a mackerel boat of fish, and as for getting the tithes well, I can't, that's all. If it wasn't for a bit of farming that I do, not but what the prices are down to nothing, and for what the visitors give in the season, and for the help of Beatrice's salary as cer tificated mistress, I should have been in the poorhouse long ago, and shall be yet, I often think. I've had to take in a boarder before no w to make both ends meet, and shall again, I expect. "And now I must be off up to my bit of a farm; the old sow is due to litter, and I want to see how she is getting on. Please God she'll have 13 again and do well. I'll order the fly to be here at 5, though I shall be back before then that is. I told Eliza beth to do so. She's gone out to do some visiting for me, and to see if she can't get in two pound five of tithe that's been due for three months. If anybody can get it it's Elizabeth. Well, goodby; if you are dull and want to talk to Beatrice, she's up and in there. I daresay you'll suit one another. She's a very queer girl, Beatrice; qnite be yond me with her ideas, and it was a funny thing her holding you so tight, but I sup pose Providence arranged that. Goodby for the present," and this curious specimen of a clergyman vanished, leaving Geoffrey quite breathless. It was 2:30, and the doctor had told him that he could see Miss Granger at 3. He wished that it was 3, for he was tired of his own thoughts and company, and naturally anxious to rensw his acquaintance with the strange girl who had begun by impressing him so deeply and ended by saving his life. There was complete quiet in the house; Betty, the maid-of-all-work, was employed in the kitchen, both the doctors had gone, and Elizabeth and her father were out To day there was no wind; it had blown itself away during the night, and the sight of the sunbeams streaming through the windows made Geoffrey long to be in the open air. He had no book at hand to read, and when ever he tried to think his mind flew back to that hateful matrimonial quarrel. It wu hard on him, he thought, that he THE should be called upon to endure such scenes He could no longer disguise the truth from himself he had buried his happiness on his wedding day. Looking back across the vears, he well remembered how different a life he had imagined for himself. In those a ays he was tired of knocking about and of youthful escapades; even that kind of social success which must attend a young man who was handsome, clever, a good fellow, and blessed with large expectations, had at the age of six-and-twenty entirely lost its at tractiveness. Therefore he had turned no deaf ear to his uncle, Sir Robert Bingham, who was then going on for 70, when he sug gested that it might be well if Geoffrey settled down, and introduced him to Lady Honoria. Lady Honoria was 18 then, and a beauty of the rather thin but statuesque type which attracts men up to aye or six-and-twenty, and then bores if it does not repel them. Moreover, she was clever and well read, and pretended to be intellectually and poetically inclined, as ladies not specially favored by Apollo some times do before they marry." Cold she al ways was; nobody ever neard of Lady Honoria stretching the bounds of propriety, bnt he put this down to a sweet and becom ing modesty, which would vanish or be transmuted in its season. Also she affected a charming innocence of all vulgar business matters, which both deceived and enchanted him. Never but once did she allude to ways and means before marriage, and then it was to say that she was glad that they should be so poor till dear Sir Bobert died (be bad promised to allow them 1,500 a year, and they bad seven more between them, as this would enable them to see so much more of each other. At last came the happy day, and this white virgin soul passed into his keeping. For a week or so things went fairly well, and then disenchantment began. He learned by slow but sure degrees that his wife was vain, selfish and extravagant, and, worst of all, that she cared very little about him. The first shock was when he accidentally discovered, four or five days after marriage. that Honoria was intimately acquainted with every detail ot bir itobert iJingham s property, and, young as she was,faad already formed a scheme to make it more productive after the old man's death. They went to live in London, and there he found that Lady Honoria, although by far too cold and prudent a woman to do any thing that rould bring a breath of scandal on her name, was as fond of admiration as she was heartless. It seemed to him that he could never be Iree from the collection of young men who hung about her skirts. Some of them were very good lellows whom he liked exceedingly; still, on the whole, he would have preferred to remain unmarried and to associate with them at the club. Also the continual round of society and going out brought heavier expenses on him than he could well support. And thus, little by little, poor Geoffrey's dream of matrimonial bliss faded into thin air. But, fortunately for himself, he possessed a certain share of logic and sweet reasonableness. In time he learned to see that the fault was not alto gether with his wife, who was by no means a bad sort of woman in her degree. But her degree differed from his degree. She had married for freedom and wealth, and to gain a larger scope wherein to exercise tbose tastes which inherited disposition and edu cation had given to her, as she believed that he had married her because she was the daughter of a peer. Lady Honoria, like many another woman of her stamp, was the overbred, or some times the underbred, product of an over civilized age and class. Those primitive passions and virtues on which her husband relied to make the happiness ot their married life simply did not exist for her. The passions had been bred and educated out of her; for many generations they have been found inconvenient and disquieting attributes in woman. As for the old virtues, such as love for children and the ordinary round of domestic duty, they simply bored her. On the whole, though sharp of tongue, she rarely lost her temper, for her vices, like her virtues, were of a somewhat nega tive order; but the fury which seized her when she learned for certain that she was to become a mother was a thing that her un fortunate husband never forgot and never wished to see again. At length the child was born, a fact for which Geoffrey, at least, was very thankful. "Take it awav. I do not want to see it!" said Lady Honoria to the scandalized nurse when the little creature was brought to her, wrapped in its long robes. ' Give it to me, nurse x do, said ner husband. From that moment he gave all the pentup affection of his bruised soul to this little daughter, and as the years went on they grew very dear to each other. But an active minded, strong-hearted, able-bodied man cannot take a babe as sole companion of his existence. Probably Geoffrey would have found this out in time, and would have drilted into some mode of life more or less undesirable had not an accident ocenrred to prevent it. In his dotage, his old nncle, Sir Bobert Bingham, fell a victim to the wiles of an adventuress and married her. Then he promptly died, and eight months after ward a posthumous son was born. To Geoffrey this meant ruin. His allow ance stopped, and his expectations vanished at one fell swoop. He pulled himself together, however, as a brave-hearted man does under such a shock, and going to his wife he explained to her that he murt now work for his living, begging her to break down the barrier that was between them and give him her sympathy and help. She met him with tears and reproaches. The one thing that touched her keenly, the one thing that she feared and hated was pov erty, and all that poverty means to women of her rank and nathre. But there was no help for it; the charming house in Bolton street had to be given up, and purgatory must be faced in a flat near the Edgware road. Lady Honoria was miserable; in deed, had it not been that, fortunately for herself, she had plenty of relations more or less grand, whom she could go and visit for weeks, and even months at a stretch, she could scarcely have endured her altered life. But strangely enough, Geoffrey soon found that he was happier than he had been since his marriage. To begin with, he set to work like a man, and work is a great source of happiness to all vigorous-minded folk. It is not, it is true," a particularly lively occupation to pass endless days in hanging about law courts among a crowd of Juniors, and many nights in reading up the law one has forgotten and threading the mazy intricacies of the judicature act But it so happened that his father, a younger brother of Sir Robert's, had been a solicitor, and though he was dead, and all direct interest with the firm was severed, yet an other uncle remained in it, and the partners did not forget Geoffrey In his difficulties. They sent him what work they conld with out offending their standing counsel, and he did it well. Then by degrees he got quite a large general practice of the kind known as deviling. Nowjthere are few things more unsatismctory than doing another man's work lor nothing, but every case fought is knowledge gained, and what is more, it is advertisement So it came to pass that within less than two years from the date of his money misfortune, Geoffrey Bingham's dark, handsome face and square, strong form became very well known in the courts. "What the man's name?" said one well known Q. C. to another still more well known, as they sat waiting for their chops in the Bar Grill Room, and saw Geoffrey, his wig pushed back from his forehead, striding through the doorway on the last day of the sitting which preceded the com mencement of this history. "Bingham," answered the other. "He's only begun to practice lately, but he'll be at the' top of the tree before he has done. He married very well, you know, old Garsing ton's daughter, a charming woman, and handsome too." "He looks like it," grunted the first, and as a matter of fact such was the general opinion. Eor as Beatrice had said, Geoffrey Bing ham was a man who had success written on his forehead. It would have been almost impossible for him to fail in whatever he undertook. (To be continued next Sunday.) A roOE policy is to buy cheap colognes, extracts or powders when for little more yon can have Atkinson's exquisite productions. PITTSBUKGr DISPATCH, A BAND OF ASSASSINS. Mystery of Holy Mountain in New Zealand's Gold Country. UHCAHNY LEGENDS OP THE MAORI, Twenty-Two Murders on the Lonely Path of the Bushrangers. ALL STRANGLED WITH A SILK SASH rWWTTBH JOB TOT DISPATCH.! The picturesque and peaceful valley of the Pelorus, Province of Marlborough, New Zealand, had suddenly become the scene of intense excitement and restless activity. Gold had been discovered in fabulous quantities in the "Wakamarina, a mountain torrent flowing into the Pelorus, and the population had risen in a few weeks from a score of scattered bushmeu or riverside graziers, to thousands upon thousands of eager, energetic miners, reckless adventurers and nondescript camp followers of both sexes and all nations. In three months the Wakamarina rush transformed one of the most exquisite and tranquil spectacles of sylvan beauty on earth into a tearing, flaring, swearing, roar ing pandemonium of cupidity, profligacy and violence. There were two outlets to the Waka marina, one by the way of Pictou, in Queen Charlotte Sound, 40 miles to the eastward, and the other by way of Nelson, a consider able seaport town in Blind Bay, 40 or 0 miles to the westward, where the trade of the goldfield was mostly done. In either case, a long day's journey on horseback had to be performed. Between the "Wakama rina and Nelson lay the Maungatapu, or Holy Mountain pronounced Mokatap 3,000 feet high, over which a narrow road had been cut through the forest It was a gloomy and a terrible journey at the best of times. The Maoris had from time immemorial had weird and ghastly traditions about the Maungatapu, which was only called tapu, sacred or holy, in their language, because it was believed to be haunted by fiends of ex traordinary power and malignity. No Maori would have dreamed of setting loot upon it, and the temerity of the whitemen, in making a road over it and crossing it both by night and by day, was looked upon as a blasphemy. These legends were well known to the diggers, many of whom are very superstitious; and, though they were loth to admit it, they felt their courage ooze out of their fingers when the shades of even ing closed in upon them amid the awful sol itudes of the Holy Mountain. A NIGHT OS THE MOUNTAIX. One, wintry morning I left Nelson for the "Wakamarina, mounted on a weedy thor oughbred. We reached the summit about noon, and after an hour's rest, we began the descent. Before we were half way down the chill of evening was setting in. By 6 o'clock it was pitch dark, and it was with a feeling of thankfulness that I descried the light of a camp fire beside the road ahead ot me. Ifoundthere a couple of diggers, enjoying their evening meal, which they cordially invited me to share, not forgetting to give a mash ot warm oatmeal to my ex hausted horse. Resisting these kindly fellows' offer of a bed of pine branches in 'their tent, I set out again, one of the diggers singing out after me, "So long, mate. Take care of yourself. Don't let the taipo run away with you." Taipo is Maori for devil or any other evil genius; and I confess that, as I looked back and saw the camp nre tar behind me glow ing like a mere spark, and then plunged alone into the inky depths of the lorest, I felt a queer feeling come over me. It must have been between 11 and 12 when my horse came to a dead stop and positively refused to go any further. The mud was knee deep, and a fine cold rain seemed to freeze my tired bones to the very marrow. While I was standing in this mis erable condition, having used up all my matches in the vain attempt to light a fire, I saw what appeared at first like a glow-worm moving about among the trees 100 yards or so ahead of me. It was evidently off the road, but coming toward me. I "cooee'd," and the light instantly vanished. Presently I saw it agaiu, closer to me now, and leav ing my horse in the road, I groped my way toward it among the trees. MEETING IN THE NIGHT. "Who's there?" cried a man's voice. "Stand where you are. Who are you?" "A friend." I replied. "I was going from Nelson to Wakamarina, but my horse has knocked up, and I can't geta fire. Can you spare me some matches?" At that the man came up to me, holding a "digger's lantern," that is a candle in a bottle, in one hand, and a bare sbeathknife in the other. He was as white as a sheet and looked frightened out of his wits. "You must be mad," he said, "to knock about all alone on this road at night I've got a mate sick up there in the range, else I wouldn't have been out There are some very queer things going on, and my advice to you is to get into the bush and stay there till morning." I told him about the diggers at whose camp I had stopped, John and William Franklyn, two brothers, for they had asked me to report them to their mates at the Wakamarina. I followed his advice in every respect, and was only once disturbed in the night, by sounds which seemed like voices and the tramp and splash of a party of men along the road; but the distance was so great, I could not be sure. I reached the Wakamarina about noon and discovered that I was an object of con siderable interest from having passed the night alone on the Maungatapu, the news having got abroad that several .people who had got benighted there had never been heard of since, and were supposed to have been spirited away. Names and particu lars were given, and the whole thing seemed very strange to me, especially after what I had been told by the man I had met in the bush. 1 went up the river on business, and on returning to "Wakamarina the first thing I learnt was that the Eranklyns had never arrived, though more than a week had elapsed since I saw them. This caused a great deal of alarm. NELSON IN EXCITEMENT. A few weeks later some of my friends from Deep Creek started on their journey to Nel son. They were four in number, namely, Felix Ma'thieu, the postmaster at Deep Creek; Kempthorne, a bank clerk; Lamont, a storekeeper, and Ferris, a miner. Having spent some time in going from township to township on the goldfield, I eventually made the journey to Nelson by sea. I found that charming little city in a state of wild ex citement. My friends from Deep Creek had never arrived. Ten days had elapsed. A patrol of constables had ridden from Nelsou to Wakamarina and back again several times without getting any intelligence of the missing travelers. It had been reported, moreover, that three other men, who had started separately on foot from the accommo dation house on the summit the same day, had never been seen again; and, to add to the alarm, it had been lound that an old sailor who had lived for many years in a shanty ol his own at the foot of the moun tain on the Nelson side, was no longer there, .though his dog was chained to the kennel, nearly starved, and the contents of the shanty were undisturbed. On the night of my arrival a public meeting was held at Nelson to organize a search party, and on the following morning three different bodies started to scour the country on both sides of the road. It was til in vain. The citizens then organized fresh bands, and the government naving Offered an immense reward and undertaken tb pay all expenses, a number of axemen reemployed to cut tracks through the bash. I CLEW 07 A, SILK SASH. It was'in a dark ravine at the foot of an immense precipice falling hundreds of feet sher from the road that one of the searchers SUNDAY, JANUARY 26, found a netted crimson silk sash, such as almost every digger wore in those days by way of trousers belt It was not much of a cine in itself; bnt it siood to reason that the sash could not have got to each a place by accident The whole of that ravine was then care fully examined, and at length there was fonnd in the densest part of the thicket, at the foot of the precipice, a mound of branches and leaves and earth that had not a natural appearance. "Upon these being removed, the searchers underwent a thrill of astonishment and excitement on finding the body of a horse with a bullet-hole through the head. Three other horses were discovered, similarly buried, close to the spot, and were at once recognized as the horses which Felix Mathien and his com panions had ridden on the day when they were lost. Higher up the ravine, more than a mile from the hones, freshly turned-up soil was found in the bush, and, after being baffled for some time, the searchers removed a heap of rocks and moss, beneath which they dis covered the bodies of the four men. They had all been strangled, and from the ap pearances the cruel deed had been com mitted with a netted silk sash, like the one that had been found. AN ALMOST INACCESSIBLE BAVINS. It was easy to see now that the murderers had purposely chosen a seemingly impossi ble place for the concealment ot their vic tims, whom they had led by a roundabout way through the trackless forest into the ravine, after forcing the horses over the precipice. Returning toward Nelson, the search party spent some honrs examining the scrub and the ground near the old sailor's shanty, and their labors resulted in the poor old man's body being disinterred from a shallow grave about half a mile from his humble home. He, too, had been strangled. Such a cloud of impenetrable mystery hung over the whole affair that nobody felt safe for an hour. No one dared to travel, and so great was the anxiety in the city that business was almost suspended. A reward ot $10,000 was offered lor the detection of the crime and a free pardon to anyone of the criminals, not being an actual mur derer, who should inform against his accom plices. The truth came out in a very simple way, as it usually does. Kempthorne, the murdered bank clerk, was known to have taken with him from the Deep Creek branch a roll of Bank of New Zealand notes, the numbers of which were entered consecu tively in the books. These notes gradually came back to the bank at Nelson, and in quiries being followed up, every one of them was traced to one or another of four men living at different hotels or boarding houses in Nelson. They were very quiet, inoffensive looking lellows, of the digger type. One was apparently a Jew. They seemed to be merely taking a spell in town like thousands of others of their class, and it could not be ascertained that they had any acquaintance with one another. THE EVIDENCE AT LAST. At length one of the four suspects, being sick and having no ready money to pay for his board, asked a fellow lodger to take a small bag of gold dust to the bank and tell it for him. The man readily consented. No sooner had he laid the bag of gold on the bank scales, however, than it was passed to a police agent, who noticed that the bag, which was made of chamois leather, had on it the letters H. L., the initials of Henry Lamont, the murdered storekeeper; while the weight of the gold was found to tally exactly with the weight of one of several bags of gold entered in Lamont's book at Deep Creek. The man having told the banker where he got the gold, a police agent returned with him to the boarding house to see the sick man. He was found to be one of the strangers who had had Kempthorne's notes, and all four of them were at once ar rested. The same night one of them turned the Queen's evidence. They proved to be four Australian convicts and desperate criminals, named Bnrgesi", Kelly, Sullivan and Levy, Sullivan being the informer. They were put on their trial, and through Sullivan's evidence no fewer than 22 murders were brought home to them. Burgess then con fessed to several other murders which Sulli van had never mentioned, but which he bad actually committed with his own hands; and the necessary evidence having been ob tained, he was also condemned to death. A MAN OP OEEAT ABILITY. Burgess, who was said to be a natural son of the celebrated Earl of Cardigan, who led the light brigade at Balaklava, was a man of great ability; but the others were very mean scoundrels. Bnrgess, Kelly and Levy were hanged at Nelson. Sullivan's sentence was commuted to penal servitude for life; but some years afterwards be was released and his passage was paid to San Francisco, where he kept a saloon and lived respectably enough. His reputation got abroad, however, and he fled to Australia, where he is believed to have been quietly put to death by some men working with him in the bug), who had ascertained his identity. The most interesting part of Sullivan's evidence to me was that which led to the discovery ot the bodies ot the twoFranklyns close to the camp where they so hospitably entertained me and my poor little thorough bred that wintry night They, too, were strangled Levy being the executioner and being forbidden by his religion to shed bloodl within a very few hours of my parting from them. When I heard Sullivan coolly describe the deed, adding that the gang killed everyone on the road that night, it gave me a sickening qualm to think what a hair-breadth escape I had had from being one of the victims of the Holy Mountain. Edwabd Wakefield. A SOBERING MACHINE. Spmmary Treatment of Drnnka In Doyles town Fifty Tears Abo. The Doylestown Democrat tells of a con trivance that was in use in that borough nearly half a century ago that might be of considerable value nowadays if it were re vived. This contrivance was a "sobering machine," and it was used to rid the streets of drunken men. It was a rough box mounted on a pair of wheels, with half a dozen young men at the tongue. When a drunken man made his appearance on the streets, the machine was brought out, run to where he was, he was helped into it and laid on his back, and ,then run out of town. It was not a downy bed for the occupant by any means, and a ride of a mile would have a wonderful sobering effect on him. The old "bums" who came into town from the country soon got a great dread of the "sobering machine," and, after one or two rides, they failed to visit the place. Its influence was likewise very salutary on the same class in the borough, and, while the machine was in use, they were afraid to appear on the street when tipsy. La Grippe A Few Pointers. Persons who have a cold are much more likely to take the influenza or so called, la grippe. It is much more severe when accompanied by a cold. The most critical time is when recovering from the disease, as slight exposure will often cause a relapse and that is almost certain to end in lung fever or pneumonia. The feet should be kept dry and warm, the body well clothed and care used to avoid exposure. The bowels should be kept regular and persons physically weak should take qui nine to keep up the vitality. With these precautions and a free use of Chamberlain's Cough Remedy a prompt re covery is reasonably certain. Tbat remedy isunequaled for a severe cold and this disease requires precisely the same treat ment For sale at B0 cents per bottle by E. G. StucKy, Seventeenth and Twenty-fourth sts., Penn ave. and cor. Wylie and Fulton t; also by Merkell Bros., cor. Penn and Frankstown aves.j Theo. E. Ihrig, 3610 Fifth ave.; Carl Hartwig, Butler st, Pitts burg, and in Allegheny City by E. E. Heck, 72 and 194 Federal st;Thos. R. Morris, cor. Hanover and Preble ayes.; Fred H. Eggers, 172 Ohio street, and F. H. Eggers & Son, Ohio and Cbestnnt streets, Allegheny, and 11 SmlthHeld it, Pittsburg. xxsu 1890. HISTOKY OF CANALS. Works of More Difficulty Than Oar Proposed Ship Canal. THE WONDERFUL RUINS OP PERU. Origin of the Lock System and Its Inven tion Are Mysteries. EUROPE'S NETWORK OP WATERWAIS rwErrrEif for tot dispatch. Away back in antiquity canals, meaning trenches, were first used to carry fresh water from a certain source of supply to the large cisterns, or as irrigators for dry and fam ished lands. Many remains in Jerusalem and the Holy Land and in Assyria are silent witnesses of their having been known and used in the misty past It is hard to tell just where or when the idea of utilizing the fresh water aqueducts as a means of communication between distant points first started. We know that Egypt used the Suez Canal 600 years B. C. We read of the Roman Emperors Trojan and Julian con structing canals around Ctesiphon, the capital of Persia, that they might transport their fleets around the city into the Tigris. And we know tbat the Romans built canals in Britain about the commencement of the Christian era, and that the Chinese built their Grand Canal in the thirteenth century. Herodotus, Aristotle and Pliny tell of canals in use in Egypt and Chins long be fore the Christian era, while after that time they are read of in Italy, Spain, France, Russia, Greece, Holland and Sweden. "Whenever it was that they commenced the bnilders built well with the tools and ma chinery they had in those early days. Since those mythical time science has marched on with rapid strides; but with all of the advantages we have in this age, it is doubtful if we can do more than was done by the intelligence, industry and persever ance of the primitive Indians of Peru and Chili hundreds of years ago who, with genius worthy of a Higher race and better late, dared the elements and scaled the face ot nature and reclaimed by great labor and endurance vast stretches of the mountains' sides by a wonderful system of terracing, and immense stretches of sandy plains along the coast, sterile through drought; who, without metal tools, bored long tunnels through granite and porphyry mountains, and through them were enabled to build canals 400 and 500 miles long over and through and under the great Cordilleras Mountains, down their precipitous sides and along vast wastes, in channels 3 feet wide and 5 feet deep, with sides and bottoms made of stone, whose joints were so perfectly FITTED 'WITHOUT CEMENT that they were water tight And where in course of time a mountain torrent has worn a channel under one of these canals, the splendid structure of many hundreds of years ago holds itself together as an arch or span across the boiling stream as though such a chance was anticipated. It makes one sorrowful to stand on the plains below and ee far away on the mountain sides to war the clouds great arches of granite, aqueuuets and viaducts, beautiful in design and construction, but as silent as history as to their builders. We have now instruments of precision and very destructive forces, wonderful tools and control of the lightning itself; we have steam engines and railroads; we have the telescope and astronomy and other sciences, but how much further are we on now than were those most wonderfnl people who have left monuments behind them far superior and enduring than those of the so-called civ ilized and Christian nations who were co-existent with them, but who have destroyed them from the face of the earth. ' Canals are of two classes barge or boat canals and snip canals. The barge canal is narrow and shallow, allowing of low bridges or of automatic swing bridges over them. They are for internal commerce entirely. The shin canal is generally a cut off from a large city to the sea, very wide and deep and having swing bridges entirely. When or where the lock system first came into ex istence Is a mystery. It was not known to the ancients, nor is its inventor known to us. Some writers claim foritSutch parent age, while other great authors claim that Leonardo di Vinci, the celebrated Italian painter and engineer, was the author; but certain it is that it was introduced into Europe in the fourteenth century by some body. THE LOW COUNTRIES OP HOLLAND. It is highly probable that the people of Holland and the low countries opened up the canal business in Europe, for they have for centuries been compelled to fight back the sea on one side and the River Rhine with its great overflows on another. And as they were compelled to dig a network of canals through their country,they gradually commenced to use them as a means to float their material from place to place. The excavations which they made were service able in two ways, in making the drain and in filling up the ground between the drains. As much of Holland lies beneath the sea level, the water is pnmped by windmills from canal level to level until it is emptied into the ocean. The engineering difficulties of a canal in those flat countries were not very great In fact, there was very little engineering skill displayed between the tall of the Roman Empire and the eighteenth century. As the necessities of commerce increased and public transportation was demanded, which would be surer and more expeditious than by dilatory and unsatisfactory wagon service over bottomless road"! through many months in the year, on which were charged extortionate rates of freight, men undertook to build canals over and through hilly countries, -and at last across great mountain chains by lock as far as possible, and then by incline plane and tunnel under mount ains thousands of feet at a time. About 1760 canal navigation commenced to assume a craze in England. The Duke of Bridgewater built a canal from his coal mines and made an aqueduct over the Mersey river 600 feet long and 39 feet above the water. The great success of this canal stimulated other enterprises of the kind, and soon England was a network of water ways, and speculation in shares was a mania until prospects of war with France, in 1792, caused a great crash in canal shares. In the general system the width of water at the top was 36 to 40 feet, bottom 24 feet and depth 5 to 6 feet In the eastern part of England the Fen districts have large canal, which are really drains, and are called Navvies (hence the laborers on such works are called navvies). They are provided at the mouth with sluices to prevent the tide running in or out only at will. THE NETWORK IN ENGLAND. England has now nearly 5,000 miles of canals. As her engineers got bolder, great aqueducts and tunnels were constructed, which made long canals possible. The Hare castle tnnnel, on the Grand Trunk Canal, is about 1J4 miles long. Tne aqueduct over the River Dee, on the Ellsmere Canal, has 19 spans of 45 feet each, 126 feet above the river. A castirou conduit was first used on this aqueduct The Caer Dyke and the Foss Dyke are the oldest canals in Britain, having been built by the Romans. Caer Dyke is almost obliterated, but the Foss Dyke is still operated from Lincoln to the Jttiver Trent, ju mues. The Forth and Clyde Canal by which Scotland can be crossed is a ship canal 35 miles long, of rather small dimensions, being 56 feet wide at the top, 27 at the bottom and only 9 leet deep. It is famished with 39 locks, 75 feet long and 20 feet wide. The highest rise is 155 leet This canal enables sailing vessels to avoid the dangerous Pent land Filth. The Caledonian Canal in Scot land is virtually a chain of deep lakes, united by canals running from northeast to southwest. It was commenced in 1803 and finished in 1823. This canal cuts off 250 miles of stormy Scotch coast and saves a sailing vessel 9& days. Laige vessels can I navigate it its width being 110 feet, its width at bottom 50 feet, and the canal cuts 20 feet deep. The summit is 102 feet above sea level. There are 28 locks on the line, 175 feet long, 40 feet wide with a rise of 8 feet. Canal rates for sailing vessels are A cent per ton per mile; steamers pay 50 cents a ton per mile. The Government "has spent nearly 17,000,000 on it in addition to the amount expended on it from the tolls. This canal is 60 miles long. THE GREAT HOLLAND CANAL. The great North Holland Canal, extend ing from Amsterdam to theHelder, 51 miles, was built in 1825. It has a breadth at the surface of 125 feet, and at the bottom 31 feet, with a depth of 20 teet The ship locks are 390 feet long and 51 feet wide, so that very large vessels can go through with ease. It is the largest ship canal in Europe. Rotterdam has a large ship canal to Helvoetsluis, equal in dimensions to the other, but not so long. A new canal between the North Sea and Amsterdam has been built, which is only 15 miles long, but whose minimum width is 240 feet, which makes a very short and easy passage for ocean vessels to the new harbor near Amsterdam called Wyk-aan-Zee. This canal redeems 12,000 acres of land hitherto under water. It requires three great engines throwing 2,000 tons per minute to keep the water down to its level. This canal costs $12,000,000. The De Briare Canal, which opened up a communication between the Seine and the Loire in 1642, was about tne first boat canal in France. Then came the Languedoc Canal, or Canal du Midi, which was the greatest scheme of that kind on the con tinent It was finished in 1681. It con nected the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, starting from the Bay of Biscay. It was 148 miles long, and its highest summit was 600 feet above sea level. It had 100 locks and 50 aqueducts, and saved a sea voyage of 2,000 miles around the Straits of Gibraltar. It was more than 100 years after the com pletion of this canal before England wakened up to the importance of canals as a means of rapid transportation. A THOUSAND MILES LONG. The Chinese Imperial Canal was built in 1289, and is, according to some authors, over 1,000 miles long. The builders appar ently knew nothing about locks, for they had many 'sluices, and boats were raised or let down from one to another by machinery. The Ganges Canal, in India, including its branches, is 810 miles long. It was built to avoid the difficulty of navigating the river Ganges and ior the purposes of navigation. It is a counterpart of the canals on both sides of the Jumna, which are for similar purposes. The Ganges Canal passes over the Solani on probably the finest aqueduct in the world, consisting of 15 arches of spans of 50 feet, and the piers are sunk 20 feet be low the river, and are protected by great masses of piles and stone. This aqueduct cost $1,500,000. The Sirhind Canal, in India, is 500 miles long, and irrigates nearly 800,000 acres. It is used for commercial purposes also. BUMBALO. TAB PARIS PAWXbHOPS. Their Operations Characterized as Char itable by an Official Report. New York Sun. Some statistics of the amount of business done by the pawnshops of Paris, and some account of their working are included in the lost published "Annuaire statistique de la ville de Pans." The mont-de-piete, says the official report, derives no profit from its operations, and its action is charitable, in asmuch as it shelters borrowers from the rapacity of usurers, but it must not be thought that those who have recourse to it are receiving public aid or that the mont-de-piete is a purely charitable institu tion. What the-mont-de-piete does is to lend money on personal property at 7 per cent interest This high rate of interest is necessary in order to defray the expenses of the management, the storage of goods, etc. On articles of jewely, plate, and things tbat will not deteriorate, four-fifths of the valne is given. If at the end of the year the mont-de-piete has a surplus the' rate of interest is reduced. If it should run short of capital, it receives donations from the Department of Public Aid. In some cities in France including Montpelier, Tonlouse, and Grenoble the working expenses are defrayed entirely by charity and no interest is charged on loans. During the last year for which figures are given 1,440,636 articles were pledged in Paris, representing a sum of 35,840,450 Irancs; 750,674 articles, worth 18,961,149 francs, were renewed; a total value or nearly $11,000,000. The average amount of the loan was $5. There were 2,040,927 articles withdrawn, and 297,617 articles upon which payments had lapsed were sold, and brought 4,968,849 francs. When business is brisk small merchants and manufacturers seek from the mont-de-piete the capital they are in need of, and which they cannot find elsewhere on so eood terms. If there is a lull in trade the busi ness of the mont-de-piete diminishes. In the case of strikes, or during a prolonged crisis, the capital of the mont-de-piete is swallowed up. During the siege of Paris it was completely cleaned out. THE DEAGOJf TEES. A Cnrloua Growth Which Uvea for Tears Without Number. St. Loots fost-Ulspatca.l The vegetation of the Canary Islands, while not as luxurious as that of Madeira, develops a number of interesting plants. Magnificent gardens are found in many places of these islands. Among all the botanical curiosities, however, the "dragon tree" (dracaena draco) deserves especial mention. Alexander Von Humboldt was the first who called attention to this giant tree. The dragon tree which he measured The Dragon Tree. grew in one of the gardens of Orotava on the northern coast of the Island of Ten eriffe. The circumference of its trunk was 45 leet. The famous scientist calculated its age to have been 10,000 years, which calcu lation, according to the most critical re searches of recent date, is entirely too high. The dragon tree, which is here illustrated, grows on the western coast ot Teneriffe. It surpasses in dimrnsions all other living trees of its kind, the one which Humboldt discovered having long since died. In 1857 the trunk ot this tree measured in circumference nearly 31 feet, and in 1884, 27 years later, Its measurements, taken at the same height as before, were 37 feet. This demonstrates that the tree grows much less rapidly than Humboldt supposed. The dragon, tree belongs to the species of liliaceous plants, shaped in the form of a palm, with a top of sword-like leaves spread in a picturesque manner above a solt trunk. Murder Will Our, And so will the rheumatia poison when Hos tetter's Stomach Bitters is used to expel It from the system. Such Is the only conclusion to be arrived at after perusing the testimonials of practitioners who have employed it with Invariable success In rhenmatlo and neuralgia cases. The evidence as to Its efficacy In ma laria, dyspepsia, kidney troubles and liver complain is no lets convincing. Jy -T a Wf$l TEACHING THE P01TCA An Entertainment Thai Shows Com mendable Progress. ONE OP THE TEACHERS A CREEK. She Was Picked up in the South by Hoodj' and Educated bj Dim. CHIEFS AKD POLICE OF THE AGESCT tcoimzsrorozxcx or tot dispatch.! Bedrock, Otoe Aoenct, I. T., Janu ary 24. The Ponca Agency, which is eight miles northwest of Otoe and 25 miles south east of Arkansas City, is the headquarters for the Fonca, Pawnee, Otoe and Tonkawa tribes of Indians. Here is where the agent and his two clerks live, and here is where all the important business is transacted. The agency buildings are beautifully situ ated on a sloping knoll. They are seen from the railroad as a little hamlet, peeping oat from behind the timber that lines the Salt Fort of the Arkansas. The school building, which is the finest of the agencies, looms up most conspicnously. It is a fine, large brick building, two and a half stories high, with spacious halls, three airy dormitories, a large dining hall and mw T ttk The School of the Fonca. kitchen, two schoolrooms, several store rooms, a playroom, sewing room, office and seven private rooms for employes. Includ ing the Superintendent there are eleven em ployes connected with the school, who fill the positions of matron, teacher, seamstress, cook, laundress and industrial teacher or farmer. The assistant cook, laundress and her assistant are Ponca Indian women, who do well ronsidering that they are Indians. One of the teachers. Miss Kate Shaw, is a Creek Indian, a graduate of a normal school in Northfield, Mass., about 100 miles from Boston. She has had quite a school history, is considered a thorough teacher, interested in her work, and is making a success of it. BBOUGHT OUT BT MOODY. It seems that Mr. Moody, the evangelist, during one of his Southern trips, found 15 bright Cherokees, Creeks and Choctaw young ladies whom he thought possessed worth and talent, and with a more liberal education would become of great use to their people. He enlisted the sympathy of Jay Gould, the railroad king, who sent a private Pullman, palace car to the Indian Territory to convey them to the Normal School at Northfield, Mass. Miss Shaw was among the number, and has often been a welcome guest in Mr. Moody's home. Over 100 children attend the Ponca school, 92 of whom are Ponca Indians and board in the school, the remainder are white children who live in or near the agency, and whose parents are in some way connected with the management of the Ponca Indians. The Ponca children are blight, though perhaps not as bright as the Otoes, but more tract able, consequently easier to work with and more attractive in some ways. They gave an entertainment on New 1 ear's Eve which displayed creditably the latent talent they seem to possess. They beautifully illustrate the lines of Gray's elegy: Fnll many a flower m born to blo3h unseen. And waste its sweetness on a desert air. The opening song was "Joy to the World." It was sung by the whole school, and they made it ring through the large chapel, the words being easily understood. All of the singing was excellent. Several little girls sing alto nicely. The neat little speeches were well spoken by the boys, but in regular school boy style. some beautiful tableaux. The tableaux were beautiful. The God dess of Liberty was a pretty Indian girl, and the gay silk American flag never seemed better supported than in the hands of an American Indian. The last tableau was magnificent. "The flight of time," or the old year, was rep resented by an Indian boy disguised as an old man. bending forward with a scythe in his hands looking afar off into the coming years when he and his people will no longer be the nation's wards, but full fledged citi zens ol this liberal Bepublic. The new year was represented by a sweet little flaxen haired white girl whose face was the embodi ment of faith, trust and love. Into Old Time's face she was looking, he, with jk doubt perhaps of what the future might un fold, sne with a simple trust and .faith to accept what the New Year would bring. There are about 450 Ponca Indians. There are two chiefs among them, White Eagle and Little Stumbling Bear. Out of this number of Indians eight policemen are se lected, whose duty is to arrest all unman ageable and suspicious people, white or red, hunt up runaways and bring them into school, carrv messages for the agent and his clerks, and preserve the order of the agency generally. BACK TO IT3 PKOPEB USE. The neat little chapel that was the school building' years ago, and afterward was nsed as an implement shed, has been cleaned out, and is now used as a church for the camp Indians. Every Sunday and Wednesday the bell calls the Ponca Indians to worship. Here the good missionary and agent meet them, and expound to them the simple truths ot the Bible, which can do naught but elevate. Here they learn to sing tha sweet gospel hymns, which are sermons is themselves. Surely the years are bringing an improved Indian policy and love, the great motive power that moves the world, will eventually conquer these people. F.EDBIBD. A SELF-POSSESSED PB0FESS0E. One of the Pleasant Tales Floating; Abonl Cornell Ualversltr. New York Sun. There is no man at Cornell University about whom better stories are told than Prof. Hiram Corson, the Shakespearean stu dent and Professor of English Literature. He has a peculiarly slow drawling manner of speaking. It happened not so very long ago that Ithaca was visited by a very high wind that came up suddenly during the night, blowing down trees, tearing off tha roofs of houses, and cutting up such other capers as are the usually accorded privilege of a high wind. The professor was living in Cascadilla, the big dormitory. The first intimation he and his wity had of the hurricane was when one of the big stone chimneys was blown over and went crashing down through, tha skylights. The professor s wife was in an agony of terror and getting up from bed began to make hasty preparations for leav ing the building, all the while beseeching her husband, who had not yet stirred, to come out and assist. All at once with a frightful noise the great tin roof ot tha building was torn off by the wind. With a scream Mrs. Corson said to-her complacent spouse: . . . "Oh, Hiram, come, do come. The last day has surely come." And the only response she got waithsj drawling inquiry: "What, ia the night?"
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