10
, that if I cere out of the way he would
marry her. But I am in the way, and mean
to M V there. "Well, it is time to dress for
dinner. I only hope that ol.l clown ot a
ciergyciau won't do something ridiculous.
I shall have to apologize lor him."
Dinner time had come; it was a 6:15
o'clock and the room was filled with highly
bred people, all more or less distinguished.
Mr. Granger had duly appeared, arrayed in
his threadbare black coat, relieved, how
ever, by a pair of Geoffrey's dress shoes. As
might have been expected, the great folk did
not seem surprised at his presence or to take
any particular notice of his attire, the fact
being that such people never are surprised.
A Zulu chief in full war dress would only
excite a friendly interest in their breasts.
On the contrary they recognized vaguely
that the old gentleman was somewhat out of
the common run, and as such worth culti
vating. Indeed, the Prime Minister, hear
ing casually that he was a clergyman from
Wales, asked to be introduced to him, and
at once fell into conversation about tithes, a
subject of which Mr. Granger was thorough
ly master.
Presently they went down to dinner, Mr.
Granger escorting the wife of the Bishop, a
fat ana somewhat apoplectic lady, blessed
with an excellent appetite. On his other
side was the Prime Minister and between
the two he got on very well, especially after
a tew glasses of wine, indeed, com me
apoplectic wife of the Bishop and the head
of Her Majesty's Government were subse
quently heard to declare that Mr. Granger
was a very entertaining person. To the
former he related with much detail how his
daughter had saved their host's life, and to
the latter he discouned upon the subject of
tithes, lavoring him with his ideas of what
legislation was necessary to meet the ques
tion. Somewhat to his own surprise he
found that his views were received with at
tention and even with respect In the main,
too, they received the support of the Bishop,
who likewise ielt keenly on the subject of
tithes. Never before had Mr. Granger had
such a good dinner nor mingled with com
pany so distinguished. He remembered
both till his dying day.
Next morning UeoHrey and Mr. Granger
started before Lady Honoria was up. Into
the details of their long journey to "Wales
(in a crowded third-class carriage) we need
not enter. Geoffrey had plenty to think of,
but his fears had vanished, as fears some
times do when we draw near to the object
of them, and had been replaced by a curious
expectancy. He saw now, or thought he
saw, that he had been making a mountain
out of a molehill. Probably it meant
nothing at all. There. was no real danger.
Beatrice liked him, no doubt; possibly she
had even experienced a fit of tenderness
toward him. Such things come and such
things go. Time is a wonderful healer of
moral distempers, and few young ladies
endure the chains of an undesirable attach
ment for a period of seven whole months.
It made him almost blush to think that this
might be so, and that the gratuitous ex
tension of his misfortune to Beatrice might
be nothing more than the working of his
own unconscious vanity a vanity which,
did she know of it, would move her to angry
laughter.
He remembered how once, when he was
quite a young fellow, he had been some
what smitten with a certain lady, v. ho cer
tainly, if he might judge from "her words
and acts, reciprocated the sentiment And
he remembered also how. when he met that
lady some months afterward, she had treated
him with a cold indifference, indeed, almost
with an insolence, that quite bewildered
him, making him wonder how the same
person could show in such different lights,
till at length, :airly mortified and ashamed
at his mistake, he had cone away in a rage
and seen tier lace no more. Ot course he had
set it down to female infidelity. He had
served her turn, she had made a fool of htm,
and that was all she wanted. Now be might
enjoy his humiliation. It did not occur to
him to borrowan energetic American term
that it migh. be simple "cussedness," or that
she had not really changed, but was angry
with him for some reason which she did not
choose to show. It is difficult to weigh the
motives of women iu the scales of male ex
perience, and many other men beside
Geoffrey have been lorcetl to give up the at
tempt and console themselves with the re
flection that the inexplicable is generally
not worth understanding.
Yes, probably it would be the same case
over again. And yet, and yet was Beatrice
of that class? Had she not too much of a
man's straightforwardness of aim to permit
her 16 play such tricks? In the bottom of
his soul he thought that she had, but he
would not admit it to himself. The fact of
the matter was that, half unknowingly, he
was trying to drug his conscience. He knew
in his longing to see her dear face once
more that he had undertaken a dangerous
thing. He was about to walk with her over
an aoyss on a bridge which might bear
them, or might break. So long as he
walked there alone it would be well, but
would it bear them both? Alas for the
frailty of human nature, this was the truth;
but he would not and did not acknowledge
it He was not going to make love to
Beatrice, he was going to enjoy the pleasure
of her society. In friendship there could be
no harm.
At length Mr. Granger and his guest
reached Bryngelly; there was nobodv to
meet them, for nobody knew that they "were
coming, so they walked up to the vicarage.
It was strange to Geoffrey once more to pars
by the little church through those well-remembered,
wind-torn pines, and see that
low, long house. It seemed wonderful that
all should still be just as it was, that there
should be no change at all, when he himself
had seen so much. There was Beatrice's
home; where was Beatrice?
He passed into the house lite a man in a
dream. In another moment he was in the
long parlor where he had spent so many
happy hours, and Elizabeth was greeting
him. He shook hands with her, and as he
did so, noticed vaguely that she too was ut
terly unchanged. Her straw-colored hair
was pushed back from the temples in the
same way, the mouth wore the saute hard
smile, her light eyes shone with the same
cold look; she even wore the same brown
dress. But she appeared to be very pleased
to see him, as indeed she was, for the game
looked well for Elizabeth. Her fHtW
kissed her hurriedly, and bustled from the
room to lock up his borrowed cash, leaving
them together.
Somehow Geoffrey's conversational powers
failed him. Where was Beatrice? Sue
ought to be back from school. It was holi
day time indeed. Could she be away?
He made an effort, and remarked absently
that things seemed very unchanged at Bryn
gelly. Ton are looking for Beatrice," said
Elizabeth, answering his thought and not
his words. "She has gone out walking, but
I think that she will be back soon. Ex
cuse me, but I must go and see about your
Geoffrey hung about a little, then he lit
his pipe and strolled down to the beach,
with a vague unexpressed idea of meeting
Beatrice. He did not meet Beatrice, but he
met old Edward, who knew him at once.
"Lord, sir," he'aa'id, "it's queertosee you
here again, specially when I thinks as how
I saw you first, and you a dead 'un to all
purposes, with your mouth open, and Miss
Beatrice a-hanging on to your hair fit to
pull your scalp off. You never was nearer
old Davy than you was that night, Eir, nor
won't be. And now you've been spared to
become a Parliament man, I hears, and
much good may you Jo there it will take
you all yonr time, sir and I think, sir, that
I should like to drink your health."
Geoffrey put his hand in his pocket and
gave the old man a sovereign. He oould
afiord to do so now.
"Does Miss Beatrice go out canoeing
now?" he asked, while Edward still mum
bled his astonished thanks.
"At times, sir thanking you kindly; it
ain t many suvrings as comes my way
though I hate the sight on it, I do. I'd like
to slave a bole in the liottom of that there
cranky concern; it ain't safe, and that's the
tact There'll be another accent out of it
one of these fine days, and no coming to
next time. But, Lord bless you, it's her
way of pleasuring herself. She's a queer
'un is Miss Beatrice, and Bhe gets queerer
and queerer, what with their being so tight
screwed up at the vicarage, no tithes and
that, and one thin? and another. Not but
what I'm thinking, sir," he added iu a por
Ustoui whisper, "as the squire has got sum-
mit to do with it He's axourting of her,
he is; he's as hard after her as a dogfish
after a stray herring, and why she can't just
say yes and marry him I'm Bure I don't
know."
"Perhaps sh) doesn't like him," said
Geoffrey, c,oldly.
"May be, sir; may be. Maids all have
their fancies in whatsoever walk of life it
has pleased God to stick 'em; but it's a won
derful pity, it is. He ain't no great shakes,
he ain't, but he's a sound man no girl can
want a sounder lived quiet all his dayB,
you see, sir, and, what's more, he's got the
money, and money's tight up at the vicar
age, sir. Gals must give up their fancies
sometimes, sir. Lord! a brace ot brats and
she'd forget all about 'em. I'm 70 years old
and I've seen their ways, sir, though iu a
humble calling. You should say a word to
her, sir; she'd thank you kindly five years
after. You'd do her a good turn, sir. you
would, and not a bad 'un, as the saying goes,
and give it the lie no, beg your pardon,
that is the other way round she's bound to
do you the bad turn, having saved 70ur life,
though I don't see how she could do that un
less, begging yourpardon, she made you fall
in love with her, being married, which,
though strange, wouldn't be wunnerful,
seeing what she is and seeing how I has
been in love with her myself since Bhe was 7,
old missus and all, who died eight years
gone and well rid of the rheumatics."
Beatrice was one of the few subjects that
could unlock old Edward's breast, and Geof
frey retired before his confusing but sug
gestive eloquence. Hurriedly bidding the
old man good night, he returned to the
house, and leaning on the gate watched the
twilight dying on the bosom of the west
Suddenly, a bunch of wild roses in her
girdle, Beatrice emerged from the gathering
gloom and stood belore him face to face.
CHAPTEE XSX
THE THIRD APPEAL,
Face to face they stood, while at the vision
of her sweetness his heart grew still. Face
to face, and the faint light fell upon her
tender loveliness and died in her deep eyes,
and the faint breeze fragrant with the breath
of pines gently stirred her hair. Oh, it was
worth living to see her thusl
"I beg your pardon," she raid in a puz
zled tone," stepping forward to pass the
gate.
"Beatrice 1"
She gave a little cry, and clutched the
railing, else she would have fallen. One
moment she stayed so, looking up toward
his face that was hid in the deepening
shadow looking with wild eyes of hope and
fear and love.
"Is it you," she said at length, "or an
other dream?"
"It is I, Beatrice," he answered, amazed.
She recovered herself with nn effort
"Then why did you frighten me so?" she
asked. "It was unkind oh, I did not mean
to say anything cross. "What did I say? I
forget I am so glad that you have cornel"
and she put her hand to her forehead and
looked at him again, as one might gaze at a
ghost from the grave.
"Did you not expect me?" Geoffrey
asked.
"Expect you? no. No more than I ex
pected " and she stopped suddenly.
"It is very odd," he said; "I thought you
knew that your father was going to ask me
down. I returned from London with him."
"From London," she murmured. "I
did not know; Elizabeth did not tell me
anything about it I suppose that she for
got" "Here I am at any rate, and how are
you?"
"Oh, well now, quite well. There, I am
all right again. It is very wrong to frighten
people in that way. Mr. Bineham." she
added in her usual voice. "Let me pass
tnrougn tne gate and x will shake hands
with vou if," she added in a tone of gentle
mockery, "one may shake hands with so
great a man. But I told you how it would
be, did I not, just before we were drowned
together, you know? How is Effie?"
"Effie flourishes," he answered. "Do you
know jou do not look very grand. Your
father told me that you had a cold in the
winter,"and Geoffrey shivered as he thought
of the cause. t
"Ob, thank you, I have nothing to com
plain of. I am strong and well. How long
do you stay here?"
"Not long. Perhaps till Tuesday morn
ing, perhaps till Monday."
Beatrice sighed. Happiness is short She
had not brought him here, she would not
have lifted a finger to bring him here, but
since he had come she wished that he was
going to stay longer.
"It is supper time," she said; "let us go
in."
At length supper was done, and Elizabeth
retired to her room. Presently, too, Mr.
Granger was called out to christen a sick
baby, and went grumbling, and they were
left alone. They sat in the window-place
and looked out at the quiet night.
"Tell me about yourself," said Beatrice.
So he told her. He narrated all the steDS
by which he had reached his present posi
tion and showed her how from it he might
rise to the topmost heights of alL She did
not look at him and did not answer him, but
once when he paused, thinking that he had
talked enough about himself, she said, "Go
on; tell me some more."
At last he had told her all.
"Yes," she said, "you have the power
and the opportunity, and yon will one day
be among the foremost men of your cenera
:.. "I doubt it," be said with a sigh. "I am
not ambitious. I only work for the sake of
the work, not for what it will bring. One
day I daresay that I shall weary of it all
and leave it But while I do work, I like
to be among the first in my degree."
"Oh, no," she answered, "you must not
give it up; you must go on and on. Promise
me," she continued, looking at him for the
first time "promise me that while vou
have health and strength you will persevere
till yon stand alone and quite pre-eminent.
Then you can give it up."
""Why should I promise you this. Bea
trice?" "Because I ask it of you. Once I saved
your life, Mr. Bingham, and it gives me
some little right to direct its course. I wish
that the man whom I saved to the world
should be among the first men in the world,
not in wealth, which is an accident, but in
intellect and force. Promise me this and I
shall be happy."
"I promise you," he said, "I promise that
I will try to rise because you ask it, not be
cause the prospect attracts me;" but as he
spoke his heart was wrung. It was bitter
to hear her speak thus of a future in which
she would have no share, which, as her
words implied, would be a thing utterly
apart from her, as much apart as though she
were dead.
"Yes," he said again, "you gave me my
life, and it makes me very unhappy to
think that I can give you nothing in return.
Oh, Beatricel I will tell you what I have
never told to anyone. I am lonely and
wretched. "With the exception of yourself,
I do not think that there is anybody who
really cares for I mean who really sympa
thizes with me in the world. I dare sav
that it is my own fault, and it sounds a hu
miliating thing to say, and, in a fashion, a
Belfish thing. I never should have said it
to any living soul but you. "What is the
use ot being great when there is nobody to
work for? Things might have been differ
ent, but the world is a hard place. If you
II you " '
At this moment his hand touched hers: it
was accidental, but in the tenderness of his
heart he yielded to the temptation and took
it Then there was a moment's pause, and
very gently she drew her hand away and
thrust it in her bosom.
"You have yonr wife to share your for
tune," she said, "you have Effie to inherit
it, and you can leave your name to your
country." f
Then came a heavy pause.
"And you," he said, breaking it, "what
future is there for you?"
She langbed softly. ""Women have no
future and they ask none. At least I do not
now, though onco I did. It is enough for
them if they can ever so little help the lives
of others. That is their happiness, and
their reward is rest"
Just then Mr. Granger came back from
his christening and Beatrice rose and went
to bed.
"Looks a little pale, doesn't she, Mr.
THE
Bingham?" laid her father, "f think she
must be troubled in her mind. The fact is
well, there is no reason why I should not
tell you; she thinks so much of you, and
you might say a word to brighten her un
well, it's about Mr. Davies. I fancy, you
know, that she likes him and is vexed be
cause he does not come forward. "Well, yon
see of course I may be mistaken, but I
have sometimes thought that ho may. I
have seen him look as if he was thinking of
it, though of course it is more than Beatrice
has got any right to expect. She's only got
herself and her good looks to give him, and
he is a rich man. Think of it, Mr. Bing
ham," and the Aid gentleman turned up his
eyes piously, "just think what a thing it
would be for her, and indeed for all of us; if
it should please God to send a chance like
that in her way; she would be rich for life,
and Buch a positionl But it is possible; one
never knows; he might take a fancy to her.
At any rate, Mr. Bingham, I think yon
could cheer her up a little; there is no need
for her to give up hope yet"
Geoffrey burst into a short grim laugh.
The idea of Beatrice lauguishing for Owen
Davies, indeed, the irony or the whole posi
tion, was too much for his sense of
humor.
"Yes," he said, "I daresay that it might
be a good match for her, but I do not know
how she would get on with Mr. Davies."
"Get onl why, well enough, of course.
"Women are soft." and can squeeze into most
holes, especially if they are well lined. Be
sides, ho maybe a bit heavy, but I think she
is pining for him, and it's a pity that she
should waste her life like that. "What, are
you going to bed? "Well, good night good
night"
Geoffrey did go to bed, but not to sleep.
For a long while he lay awake, thinking.
The morrow was "Whit Sunday, and a day
that Geoffrey had occasion to remember for
the rest of his life.
Not knowing where to go, he Btrolled
down to the beach, on which there was no
body to be seen, for, as has been observed,
Bryngelly slept on Sundays. Presently,
however, a figure approached, walking
rapidly, and, to all appearances, aimlessly,
and in it he recognized Owen Davies. He
was talking to himself while he walked,
and swinging his arm. Geoffrey stepped
aside to let him pass, and as he did so was
surprised and even shocked to see the
change in the man. His plump, healthy
looking face had grown thin, and wore a
half sullen, half pitiful expression; there
were dark circles round his blue eyes, or.ee
so placid, and his hair would have been the
better for cutting. Geoffrey wondered if he
had had an illness. At that moment Owen
chanced to look round and saw him.
"How do you do, Mr. Bingham?" he
said. "I heard that you were here. They
told me at the station last night. You see
this is a small place and one likes to know
who comes and goes," he added as though
in excuse.
He walked on and Geoffrey walked with
him.
"You do not look well, Mr. Davies," he
said "Have you been laid up?"
"No, no," he answered, ""I nm quite
right; it is only my mind that is ill."
'"Indeed," said Geoffrey, thinking that
he certainly did look strange. "Perhaps
you live too much alone and it depresses
you."
"Yes, I live alone because I can't help
myself. What is a man to do, Mr. Bing
ham, when the woman he loves will not
marry him, won't look at him, treats him
like dirt?"
"Marry somebody else," suggested
Geoffrey.
"Oh, it is easy for you to say that you
have never loved anybody, and you don't
understand. I cannot marry anybody else.
I only want her."
"Her? Who?"
"Who! why, Beatrice who else could a
man want to marry if once he had seen her?
But she will not have me; she hates me.
"Beally," said Geoffrey.
"Yes, really, and do you know why? Shall
I tell you why? I will tell you," and he
grasped him by the arm and whispered
hoarsely in his ear: "Because she loves you,
Mr. Bingham."
"I tell you what it is, Mr. Davies," said
Geoffrey, shaking his arm free, "I am not
going to stand this kind of thing. You
must be offyour head."
"Don't be angry with me," he answered.
"It is true. I have watched her and I know
that it is true. Why does she write to you
every week, why does she always start and
listen when anybody mentions your name?
Oh, Mr. Bingham," Owen went on piteous
ly, "be pitiful you have your wife and lots
of women to make love to if you wish leave
me Beatrice. If yon don't, I think that I
shall go crazed. I have always loved her,
ever since she was a child, and now my love
grows taster and stronger every day, and
carries me away with it like a rock rolling
down a hill. You can only bring Beatrice
to shame, but I can give her everything, as
much money as she wants, everything that
she wants, and I will make her a good hus
band; I will never leave her side."
"I have no doubt that would be delightful
to her," answered Geoffrey; "but does it not
strike you that all this is just a little un
dignified? These remarks, interesting as
they are, should be made to Miss Granger,
not to me, Mr. Davies."
"I know," he said, "but I don't care; it
is my only chance, and what do I mind
about being undignified? Oh, Mr. Bingham,
I have never loved any other woman. I have
been lonely all my days. Do not stand in
my path now. If you only knew what I have
suffered, how I have prayed God night after
night to give me Beatrice, you would help
me. Say that you will help me. You are
one of those men who can do anything; she
will listen to you. If you tell her to marry
me she will do so, and I shall bless you my
whole life."
Geoffrey looked upon this abject appli
cant with the most unmitigated scorn. There
is always something contemptible in the
sight ot one man pleading to another for as
sistance in his love affairs that is a busi
ness which be should do for himself. How
much greater, then, is the humiliation in
volved when the amorous person asks the
aid of one whom he believes to be his rival
his successful rival in the lady's affec
tion? "Do you know, Mr. Davies," Geoffrey
said, "I think that I have had enough of
this. I am not in a position to force Miss
Granger to accept advances which, accord
ing to your account, appear to be unwel
come. But if I get an opportunity I will do
this: I will tell her what you say. You
really must manage the rest for yourself.
Good morning to you, Mr. Davies."
He turned sharply and went while Owen
watched him go.
"I don't believe him," he groaned to him
self. "He will try to make her his lover.
Oh, God help me I cannot bear to think of
it But if he does, and I find him out, let
him be careful. I will ruin him; yes, I will
ruin himl I have the money and'l can do
it. Ah, he thinks me a-fool; they all think
me a fool; but I haven't been quiet all these
years for nothing. I can make a noise if
necessary. And if he is a villain, God will
help me to destroy him. I have prayed to
God, and God will help me.'"
Then he went back to the castle. Owen
Davies was a type of the class of religions
men who believe that they can enlist the
Almighty on the side of their desires, pro
vided only that those desires receive the
sanction of human law or custom.
Thus within 24 hours Geoffrey received no
less than three appeals to help the woman
whom he loved to the arms of a distasteful
hnsband. No wonder then that he grew
almost superstitious about the matter.
To be continued next Sundav.)
How Thli Would Help Ua Oat.
Girls are not always what they seem,
Of this there is no doubt;
To be like men is their one dream.
They buy neckties and drive a team;
It they would only buy the cream
How this would help us out.
They cut oft short their pretty hair,
They laugh like men and shout;
They draw three aces to a pair.
Play ball and travel everywhere.
If they would only pay the fare
How this would keep us out
They're getting; so tbey wear our clothes
And put us men to rout;
On platforms how tbey love to pose,
And when tbey speak, you bet it goes.
If we could get them to propose
How this would help us out
Tom Mast on in Clothier and Furnisher. ,
PITTSBUKG- DISPATCH,
JAUNTS IN THE WEST.
Bill
Nye Tisits the'Scenes of His
Journalistic Childhood.
SPECULATING IN EEAL ESTATE.
One Han Got Bich Because He Couldn't
Trade His Land for a Ticket.
LIYING ON THE PACIFIC EAILWAIS.
tWBITTEK JTOB TH Dt8rATCn.1
At SALT Lake, in the TKKBiTOBTn
op Utah, and so on, wheneveb
ah opportunity occubbed. )
THE past week
has been oneof great
personal interest, al
though it has had
little effect on pub
lic affairs. I have
been visiting my old
haunts in Colorado
and Wyoming, after
about seven years of
absence. I have also
been in Utah, where
spring has come in the rich valley of the
Jordan and the glossy blackbird, with wing
of flame, scoots gayly from bough to bough,
deftly declaring his affections right and left
and acquiring more wives than he can sup
port, then clearing his record by claiming
to have had a revelation which made it all
right.
One cannot shut his eyes to the fact that
there is a great real estate activity this
spring in the West It has taken the place
ot mining and stock, I judge, and every
where you hear and see men with their
heads together, plotting against the poor
Jvje and the Sign,
rich man. Yesterday in Salt Lake I saw
the sign, "Drugs and Keal Estate."
I presume it meant medicine and a small
residence lot in the cemetery.
In early days in Denver, Henry 0. Brown,
then in the full flash and vigor of manhood,
had some talk with the agent of the Atchi
son stage line for a ticket back to Atchison,
as he was heart-broken and homesick. He
had a quarter section of land, with a heavy
growth of prairie dogs on it, and he had al
most persuaded the agent to swap him a
stage ticket for this sage bruah conserva
tory, when he gently hacked out of the
trade. Mr. Brown then sat him down on
the sidewalk and cried bitterly.
I just tell this to show how easily some
men weep. Atchison is at present so dead
ihat a good cowboy, with an able mule.could
tie to its tall and, putting his spurs to the
mule, jerk loose the entire pelt at any time,
while Brown's addition to Denver is worth
anywhere from $1,600,000 to $2,000,000.
When Mr. Brown weeps now it is because
his victuals are too rich and give him the
gout. He sold prairie dogs enough to fence
the land in so that it could not blow into
Cherry Creek vale, and then he set to work
earnestly to wait for the property to ad
vance. Finding that he oould not sell the
property at any price, he, with great fore
sight, conclnded to retain it. Some men,
with no special ability in other directions,
have the greatest genius for doing such
things, while others, with greater genius in
other ways, do not make money in this way.
A report got around some time ago that I
had made a misguess on some property.
This is partly true, only it was my wife who
speculated. She had never speculated much
before, though she had tried other open air
amusements. So she swapped a cottage and
lots in Hudson, Wis., for city lots in Minne
apolis, employing a man named Flinton
Pansley to do the trading, look into the title
and do the square thing for her. He was a
real good man, with heavenly aspirations
and a real Borrow iu his heart for the pre
valence of sin. Still hit sorrow did not
break in on his business. Well, the busi
ness was done by correspondence
and Mr. Pansley only charged at rea
sonable amount, she giving him her
new carriage to remunerate him for
his brain fag. What the other mau
Eaid him for disposing of the lots I do not
now. I was away at the time, and having
no insect powder with which to take his
life, I spared htm to his Bible class.
I did send a mau over the lot?, however,
when I returned. They were not really in
the city of Minneapolis; that, is, they were
An Interview With PaltU
not near enough to worry anybody by the
tumult of the town. In fact they were in
another county. You may think I am
lying about this, but the lots are there, if
you have any curiosity to see them. They
were not where they were represented to be,
and the machine shops and gas works and
couit house were quite a long distance
away.
You could cut some hay on these lots, but
not enough to pay the interest on the mort
gage. Progs build their nests there in the
spriug and rear their young, but people
never go there, Two years ago Senator
Washburn killed a bear on one of these
lots, but that is all they have ever produced,
except a slight coldness on our part toward
Mr. Pansley. He says he likes the carriage
real well, and anything he can do for us in
the future in dickering for city property
will be done with an alacrity that would
almost make one's head swim. I must add
that I have the permission to use this in
formation, as the victim seems to think
there was something kind of amusing about
it Some people think a thing funny which
others can hardly get any amusement out
of. What I wonder at is that he did not
ask for the team when he got the carriage.
Possibly he did not like the team.
I just learned recently that Pansley and
the Benders used to be very thick in au
early day, but ufter awhile the Benders said
they guessed they would have to be excused.
Even the Benders had to draw the line
somewhere.
But now I am buying in Salt Lake. Not
a heavy venture, you understand. Just the
fc . 'VtfcT-1 ' ' ti
SUNDAY, MAEOH 30,
box office receipts for one evening. I see it
stated in the papers at 510,000. . Anyway I
will let that go. That Is near enough. When
I see anything in the papers I ask no more
questions. I do not think it is right. Patti
and I have both made it a rule this winter to
put in at least one evening as an investment
where we happen to be. We are almost sure
to do well out of it, and we also get better
notices in the paper.
Patti is not looking so well this season as
she did when my father took me to see her
in the prime of her life. Though getting
quite plain, it costs as much to see her as it
ever did. Her voice has a metallic, or rather
bi-inetallic, ring to it nowadays, and she
misses it by not working in more topical
songs and bright Italian gags.
I asked her about an old singer who used
to be with her. She said, "He was remova to
Looking Up Sis Real Estate.
re ocean, where he kcepa ze lighthouse. He
learn to himself how to manage ze light
house one seasong; then he try by himself
to star."
Now, if she wonld do some of those things
on the stage, it would pay her first rate.
Last week I visited Wyoming a good deal
and met many old friends, all of whom
shook me warmly by the hand as soon as
they saw me. I visited the Capitol, and
both houses adjourned for an hour out of
respect to my memory. I will never say
anything mean of a member of the Legis
lature again. A speech of welcome was
made by the gentleman from Crook county,
Mr. Kellogg, the Demosthenes of the com
ing State. He made statements about me
that day which in the paper read almost as
good and truthful as an epitaph.
Going over the hill, at Crow creek, whose
perfumed waters kiss the livery stables and
abattoirs at Camp Carlin, three slender
Sarah Bernhardt coyotes came toward the
train, looking wistfully at me as who should
say: "Why, partner, how you have fleshed
up." Answering them from the platform of
the car, I said: "Go east, young men, and
flesh up with the countrv." Honestly and
seriously, I do think bat if the coyote
would change off and try the soft shell crab
for awhile, he would pick right up.
When I got to Laramie City the welcome
was so warm tnat it almost wiped out the
memory of my shabby welcome in New
York harbor last summer on my return from
Europe, when even my band went back on
me and got drunk at Coney Island ou the
very money I had given them to use in wel
coming me home again.
The Pacific roads have greatly improved
in recent years, and though tbey do not
dazzle one with their speed they are much
more comfortable to pass a few weeks on
than they were when the eating houses, or
many of them, were in the hands of people
who could not cook very well, but who made
a great deal of money. Now you can eat
from a good buffet car at your leisure or a
first class dining car, or you cad stop off
ana get a good meal, or you can carry a few
hens and eat hard boiled eggs all over yonr
neighbors.
I do not think people on the oars ought to
keep hens. It disturbs the other passengers
and is anything but agreeable to the hens.
Close confinement is never good for a hen
that is advanced in years, and the cigar
smoke from the rear of the car hurts her
voice, I think. Bill Nye.
INDIAN HUM0B.
Be la Quick at Discovering; Ills Adversary's
Weak Points.
North American Review.
The Indian has a keen appreciation of
humor, and is like a child in his mirthful
ness. No orator can see the weak points in
his adversary's armor or silence a foolish
speaker more quickly. Old Shah-bah-skong,
the head chief of Mille Lac, brought all his
warriors to defend Port Ripley in 1862. The
Secretary of the Interior, and the Governor
and Legislature ot Minnesota, promised
these Indians tbat for this act of bravery they
should have the special care of the Govern
ernment and never be removed. A few vears
later, a special agent was sent from Washing
ton to ask the Ojibways to cede their lands
and remove to a country north of Leech
Lake. The agent asked my help. I said:
"I know that country. I have camped on
it. It is the most worthless strip of land in
Minnesota. The Indians are not fools.
Don't attempt this folly. Yon will surely
come to grief." He called the Indians in
council, and said: "My red brothers, your
great father has heard how you have been
wronged. He said, 'I will send them an
honest man.' He looked to the North, the
South, the East and the West. When he
saw me he said, 'This is the honest man
whom I will send to my red children.'
Brothers, look at mel The winds of 65 years
have blown over my head and silvered it
over with gray, and in all tbat time I have
never done wrong to any man. As your
friend, I ask you to sign this treaty."
Old Shah-bah-skong sprang to his feet
and 'said: "My friend, look at me! The
winds of more than SO winters have blown
over my head and silvered it over with
gray; but they have not blown my brains
away."
That council was ended.
C0EN KILLERS.
Six Different Recipes That Are Warranted
to Kill or Core.
By cutting a notch on a green elder stick
for every wart a person may have, rnbbing
the stick on every wart, and then burying it
in the barnyard until it rots, the warts may,
it is said, be cured.
One way to get rid of warts is for the per
son to see a funeral pass uncxpectedly.wher
ever it may be, and as it passes rub the
warts quickly and repeat the words: "Warts
and corpses pass away and never more re
turn." Warts may be cured by taking a black
snail, rubbing it on all the warts at night,
and Impaling the snail ou a thorn bush, re
peating the process nine consecutive nights,
by which time both the warts and the snail
will be shriveled up.
Select as many pebbles as you have warts,
sewing them up in a small bag, take them
to where four roads cross and throw the bag
over the left shoulder. If, by chance, anv
other person should find the bag and open ft
the warts will appear on his hand.
If a person with warts on his hands will
write down the number of them on the band
of a tramp's hat without the tramp knowing
it, he will carry the warts away with him
that is, they gradually disappear from the
person's hands aud appear on those of the
tramp.
Green peas may be used to advantage in
taking off warts. Let the afflicted person
take as many peas as he has warts and
touch each wart with a different pea. He
must then wrap each pea iu a separate piece
of paper and bury them secretly in the
shade of an ash tree or under a hazel bush.
Chicago Serald.
Hli Oolr Encore.
Colonel Knox's Yarns.!
"You know DeLancoy. He claims to be a
born actor."
"Oh, he is no good. He never got an en
core hut once In his life."
"Yes?" 1
"Yes, just once, and that was when he was
born. He was a twin."
1890.
TALMAGE'S NEW IDEA,
Bessie Bramble Thinks it Differs
Little From Ingersoll's.
EEYISI0N SEEMS TO BE GAINING.
Opening the Church Doors to Those Given
to Worldly Pleasures.
DISCUSSION SETS MEN TO THINKING
rwarmw fob th Dia patch. 1
The doctor of divinity who claims to ad
dress the largest audience in the world
every week through the medium of the
press is Dr. T. De Witt Talmage, of Brook
lyn. In addition to his high position in
the great Congregational Tabernacle, he
has also become editor of the Christian
Serald, which, through his influence, is ex
pected to reach the highest circulation of
any chnrch paper in the country, and with
th$ income of which the new Tabernacle is
to be mainly built.
But while Brother Talmage is thus build
ing up his reputation as a preacher and a
business manager, and a magnificent temple
beside, he is no less engaged, it would seem,
in the still more tremendous work of pull
ing down and destroying the creed so well
known as the Westminster Confession of
Faith, which the Presbyterian Church has
so tenaciously held since its doctrines were
formulated by John Calvin, over three cen
turies ago, and which at his ordination,
Brother Talmage most solemnly pledged
himself to support and defend. He
even talks of the founder of Calvin
ism with considerable disrespect, and
affirms that he could "call the names of 20
living Presbyterian ministers of religion
who could make a better creed than John
Calvin," nnd adds that "the nineteenth
century ought not to be called upon to sit at
the feet of the sixteenth, nor should the
men of to-day be called upon to hide their
heads under the sleeve of the gown of a
sixteenth century doctor."
TALMAGE AND INGEBSOLI, AOBEE.
He therefore plainly asks that Christians,
many of whom are only half liberated, and
many of whom are bound hand and foot by
religious creeds, should have their Calvin
istlo bandages taken off should have their
old-time prejudices removed, should have
their .souls and bodies freed and be loosened
and let go. This is also the demand of the
eminent agnostic, Ingersoll, who has done
so much to "loose men and let them go;"
and the main difference, it would appear
now, between the reverend teacher of the
Tabernacle and the famous radical is that
the latter would not only let go the doc
trines of Calvin, but would revise Moses
and the prophets, and even the apostles,
while the former is willing to let the creed
and Calvin go together, but he wants to hold
on to "Paul, one of whose chapters on the
subject," he says, "are better than all of
Calvin's Institutes, able and honest and
mighty as they are."
It must make the cold shivers go creeping
down the backs of the orthodox to hear these
bold utterances of the reverend brother, and
understand from them how far he has got
along in following the footsteps of the skep
tics who have criticised Calvinism and de
nounced its leading doctrines for so many
years. Dr. Talmage expresses sorrow that
tne question ot the creed has been disturbed,
since it did not hinder Christian ministers
from offering the pardon and comfort of the
gospel to ail men, and savs boldly for him
Belr that "the Westminster Confession has
not interfered with me for one minute."
NOT LIVING UP TO HIS CBEED.
This would seem to indicate that he has
not been living up to the doctrine he was
ordained to uphold, bnt has been running
along on his own hook, offering salvation
to everybody whether, by decree of elec
tion, they were entitled to it or not. He
has gone over to the Wesleyan idea, and
has been dealing out "free grace" with a
liberal hand, although predestination is the
very keynote of Presbyterianism.
In Calvin's day Brother Talmage wonld
have been roughly hauled over the coals by
the church authorities, and very likelv have
been persecuted and banished, a's was
Jerome Bohec, who presumed to attack
Calvin's views on predestination, or perhaps
bnrned at the stake, as was Servetus for
questioning the Genevan doctrine. Cer
tainly in the times of the Puritans the great
preacher would have been driven out into
the wilderness, or had his ears slit or his
tongue cut out by the Pilgrim Fathers if he
had publicly advocated doing away with
the creed entirely and getting up "a brand
new one," which is his announced position
to-day.
"A man who believes in the damation of
infants himself deserves to lose heaven"
says Brother Talmage, hence, as follows, he
gives up wholly the doctrine ol predestina
tion, since one includes the other.
TALSIAOE'3 NEW CBEED.
That Brother Talmage has got very far
away from the teachings of the Fathers is
very evident. Having, as it were, burned
his bridges behind him and given up the
old creed in favor of a new one, he says:
"I move for a creed for all our denomina
tions made out of the Scripture quotations
pure and simple. That would take the
earth for God that would be impregnable
against infidelity and Apollyonio assault
that would be beyond criticism, and result
in the church of millennium." He an
nounces that "faith in Christ is the one
essential to salvation, is the one criterion,
the test, the pivot, the indispensable," and
insists that people shall not be hindered by
the idea that they are not elected."
"A man," he a'sserts, "need not believe in
election or reprobation. He need not be
lieve in eternal generation of the Son. He
need not believe in everlasting punishment
He need not believe in infant baptism. He
need not believe in plenary inspiration."
Then, as if all this was not sufficient, sur
render to the skepticism of the age, he
argues that people should not be kepfout ol
the church becanse they drink wine, or
smoke cigars, or attend the theater and play
cards, or drive fast horses such tests of fit
ness not being, as he says, sanctioned by
the Bible. There is one passage ot Scrip
ture wide enough to let in all who ought to
enter and keep out all who ancht to stav
ont, and that is:
"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and
thou shalt be saved."
THOSE NOT INCLUDED.
The announcement, it will be admitted,
is hard on the 7,000,000 Jews the chosen
people of God it is severe on the 14,000,000
Sintoos, the 80,000,000 followers of Confu
cius, the 175,000,000 Hindoos, the 201,000,
000 Mohammedans, the 340,000,000 Budd
hists, and the 175,000,000 set down to other
beliefs, tbongh it may be comfortable and
easy enough for the 388,000,000 Christians
of the Boman, Greek and Protestant
churches. These figures, when carefully
considered, appear to support the doctrine
of election which Dr. Talmage repudiates,
since the number of Christians seems to be
the elect few, who have been favored with a
revelation of Christ, while the great ma
jority of over 600,000,000 are left in the
darkness of heathenism.
It hardly seems fair that all Of this mighty
multitude to say nothing of those who
preceded them should be left outside
swathed ic the cerements ol ignorance,
hound hand and foot in error's chains and
hindered by pagan creeds from laying hold
of the one essential necessary to their salva
tion, as held by Dr. Talmage, and urged by
bim as the creed that will, if accepted by
all denominations, merge us into the millen
ium. But while the good doctor has repu
diated the Westminster Confession, and
plainly says he desires no revision, but a
"kmnri Hair nMAr) " -..ttnrl 4. 4V .l.i. .U
brand new creed," suited to the nineteenth
century, some of his brethren are most
DECIDEDLY AOAINSX CHANGE.
Dr. Bobinsou, who is one of the most hit
ter and most ardent defenders of the Magna
Charta of the Presbyterian Church, is on
record as saying the Church would be better
engaged in saving souls than in tampering 1
with the creed of the old chnrch. Key. W.
W. Page thinks if they on-je bgia revision
it will be made a basis for further revision,
and they might finally come to revising the
Apostles. He by no means believes the
ministers of t.o-day could make a better
creed than Calvin, but has no hesitation in
asserting that "Calvin could have swallowed
a thousand of the theologians of the present
and not have suffered from indigestion."
This is somewhat severe on the faculty of
Princeton, and Andover, and Dr. Hall, and
Dr. Paxton, and Dr. Talmage, and Dr. Hc
Cosh et al. But withal, "revision" seems
to be the winning side, though it is hardly
to he supposed that the General Assembly
will go to the extreme length of abolishing
the old Confession of Faith and substituting
a "brand new one," as Brother Talmage
recommends. Still, if he carries weight
with his 50,000,000 of readers and admirers,
the creed will be rather severely handled
before they get through with It. When the
old once solemnly held and unfeignedly be
lieved articles of faith are repudiated and
denounced by so many good men, who have
professed to uphold them when ordained to
the ministry, it is plain to see that they
must eventually go, either by way of revis
ion or substitution.
EXAMPLES IN OTIIEB CHUSGIIES.
The United Presbyterians had to become
reconciled to fine churches and the voiceinl
pipes of the organ although they were
held by some to be devices of the devil
after considerable fighting and unseemly
squabbling, and so will they all at last be
compelled to resign the comfortabte doc
trines of predestination, infant damnation
and reprobation doctrines that, as Dr.
Hamilton said, "horrify every man with the
slightest sense of justice."
It will be hard on the old rjeonls to trive
up ineir cnensned articles ot their creed,
but the young folks will grow up to the pro
posed change, and be none the worse for it.
But if, as Dr. Talmage advises, they let
election and reDrobation bo. it ther let
eternal punishment slip, how are the wicked
to be kept straight and the righteous ade
quately rewarded? If drinking wine, and
playing cards, and smoking cigars, aud
driving fast horses, and going to the theater,
and indulging in worldly delights generally,
are not to be held as hindrances
to church membership, how are the sheep to
be distinguished from the goats? These
new ideas and radical utterances will very
much puzzle many people, and probably
upset their preconceived notions, but they
will be likely to set people to doing their
own thinking and to formulating their own
creeds. Instead of trusting to the fathers of
tne cnurcn they will interpret for them
selves and reach the conclusion of Talma?e
himself that "No one can explain the
mysteries of God's government now, much
less the mysteries of His government five
hundred quintillion yearsjago."
WHEBEIN THEY DIPFEB.
By the way, is not this the point for
which Ingersoll is contending? Judging
by the sermon hefore us, which concedes so
much, it would seem as if the ground for
dispute between the famous agnostic and
the noted divine was growing quite narrow.
Talmage asserts that belief in Christ is the
only essential to salvation, and Ingersoll
says he doesn't know. However, those who
dread extremes and prefer the happy me
dium have little cause for alarm that the
General Assembly will adopt the idea of
Brother Talmage for a "brand new creed" at
present. The ardent advocates of the
change in the Presbyteries have only pro
posed "revision" and "compromise" and
that greater emphasis should be placed upon
the love and benevolence of God than on
divine wrath and endless punishment or,
in other words, that the cruel creed of the
sixteenth century should be made to fit in
with the sentiment and spirit of the nine
teenth. Still, even in view of all the amazing
changes and advances made so quietly in
the last half century by the brains of scien
tific men in all the realms of thought, the
advice of Talmage as to the Christian
bound hand and foot by religious creeds to
"Loose him and let him go" will be
deemed by many a most daring and dan
gerous Innovation. Bessie Bbaublz.
THE DRESS EDIT IN ENGLAND.
The
Erectile Dress Slnst bo Worn to Gala
Admittance to a Theater.
Clothier and Furnisher.
An experience recently told me of a visit
to the London Lyceum Theater a 12 months
since verifies the statement as to the positive
rule of some ot the English playhouses not
to admit ladies or gentlemen to the stalls
unless they are in evening dress. The
American had a busy day of it, and found
tbat it was too late to put himself into his
dress suit, as was his custom when going to
the theater, and harried off in his ordinary
morning suit with his wife to witness the
performance of Henry Irving in "The Dead
Heart" At the box office he tendered his
money for a couple of stalls. The official
looked the applicant over for a moment,
apparently arrived at the conclusion he was
a gentleman and forthwith asked if he
would not aecept a box a much preferable
and more expensive situation for his lady
and himself.
"I make this suggestion," continued the
courteous and diplomatic representative,
"because should you appear in the stalls not
in full dress you would attract an embar
rassing amount of notice as the only persons
that had been prevented, for some cause or
other, from observing the usual formality.
I feel sure that under the circumstances you
will find this box more agreeable."
"Heat vay of patting it, wasn't it?" said
the narrator chipperly, "and so English,
yon knowl"
ANTIQUES IN CLOTHING.
Felix Blorrls lias a Collection That He
Values Highly.
Clothier and Furnisher. J
Why should there not be curios and an
tiques in male clothing, now that tailoring
has become such an art? There might be
some interesting collections made, compris
ing the costumes of the past few centuries,
for donbtless examples could be found in a
fair state of preservation. Indeed, some of
our actors have many relics of costumic in
terest of bygone days treasured up for refer
ence, and because of their association with
the great departed lights of the stage.
Felix Morris, of the "Vokes Company, a
most careful actor, is somewhat of an anti
quarian in this field. He has. among other
rarities, a short-waisted, peculiarly fash
ioned coat that he wears in "The Old Musi
cian," that is over 100 years old. It was
urchased in Montreal, and belonged to a
'rench emigre. The stiff, high velvet col
lar is made with a neatness that no modern
tailor could match in handiwork, and all
thestitchery is of the exquisite fineness that
one does not see nowadays in this age of
sewing machines, except upon rare occa
sions, representing the artistry of some
specially instructed and highly priced seam
stress. The article is regarded by the player
as one of his most highly prized properties
one that aids him inestimably, he says, in
the success of the-characterization.
THE IMMIGRANT'S LANDING PLACB.
Ellla Island
i Spot Cordially Detested by
Naval Omaers.
New York Ban.
Ellis Island, which may' be the site for
the new immigrant station, is cordially de
tested by naval officers, because, according
to a long-established custom, vessels of the
navy going into the Brooklyn Navy Yard,
for any considerable stay, usually go down
to Ellis Island to unload powder. Vessels
going out to sea also stop at Ellis Island to
take in ammunition. Either process often
detains a vessel several days at the island,
and it is difficult, particularly in the case of
out going vessels, for officers to get leave.
It is a peculiarly tantalizing thing to the
average naval officer to find himself within
sight of New York, yet unable to get into
the city; for, while no naval officer courts a
billet at the navr vard because of thn nnliti-
calcomplications so liable to risejduring the
service there, all are fond of New York.
SHE KISSED MORGAN.
A Southern Girl Who Defended the
fiaider al Wellsyille, 0.,
IS NOW BESIDING IN PITTSBUEG.
An Exciting Scene in the Old Missouri
House After the Capture.
AM0TLEI AEill QUICKLY EALLIED.
rwMTTKjr ron mz dispaich.1
On a bright, sunshiny afternoon not long
ago an old Beaver county farmer strolled
up to the postoffice steps and there took his
stand along with many other idlers who
daily congregate on that commanding spot
to view the passing throng. The golden
rolls of fresh country butter, the spring
chickens ('89 brand) and other tempting
produce had been handed out to the city
folk, and the silver dollars chinked merrily
in his pockets. He wore on the lappel of
his coat a button which proclaimed in a
modest way that he had served his country
for three long years during a time when
three years were as six years of peace.
Stopping in-the midst of one of his remin
iscent anecdotes, he pointed to a middle
aged lady on the opposite side of the
crowded avenue, saying, "There goes the
woman who kissed Morgan, the raider,
while he was a prisoner in Wellsville, O."
Pressed to relate the circumstances of what
was considered at the time a very nervy act,
he told the tale, which,stripped of its quaint
dialect, ran thus:
"Away back in July. '63, the people of
Pittsburg moved with a little more celerity
than they do now, and they had good reason
to be, for upon the bulletin boards of Tub
Dispatch was written the startling neTS
that Morgan, the swift-flying cavalryman
of Bragg's army, had passed through
the very streets ofCincinnatl and was now
on his way to Pennsylvania. But their ex
citement was nothing compared with that of
the country folk living near the boundary
line of Ohio and Pennsylvania. Few of us
dreamed that John Morgan, a native of
Beaver county, who had cast his fortunes
with the Southern flag, wouldever succeed
in getting so near Pennsylvania at the head
of a band who were reputed to be little bet
ter than cut throats.
KUJIOR ADDED TO THE FBIOHT.
"As the days went by the rumors became
more definite and more alarmintr. Terrible
tales of the prowess of the Southrons were
told; of horses run off by the score, of farms
laid waste, in fact. Morgan's little band cre
ated more alarm than did the armv ot Lee
as he approached Gettysburg. There were
few ablebodied men in the country districts
at that time; some times not enough to
properly attend to the detail? of the bnrial
of some brave fellow who had left his coun
try home full of the hopeot glory, only to re
turn wounded unto death. It wa3 a com
mon sight in those stirring days to see
women in the fields doing the work of men.
"I was at my home on the sooth side of
the Ohio, not far from the State line, enjoy
ing a brief furlough. Early one bright
morning we heard a yell. Down the road,
mounted on a swift mare, came one of the
neighbors. 'Morgan is coming, he fairly
screamed. 'Bun to the river; he's going to
cross.' Scarcely had we realized the dread
import of his words till he was gone. Far
down the highway we could hear the
clickety-click of the mare's hoofs and the
yells of her rider.
"Few minutes were wasted by any of us.
Down from the brackets came the old rifle;
ballet molds soon appeared in the hands of
wives and daughters; the older hoys were
instructed to take the horses to the woods
and thickets; then, on toot and on horse
back, we sknrried away to the river. What
a motley assemblage that was? I remember
one old fellow, a confirmed rheumatic who
had not been on a horse for years, gathered
up a rifle and two shot guns, mounted an
old nag, and rode to tho schoolhonsa to arm
such of his neighbors as might be unpro
vided with weapons.
THE KAIDER HAD BEEN CAPTTJBED.
But when we reached the river we re
ceived word that the raider had been cap
tured near Salineville, O., and was being
brought to Wellsville under a strong guard.
Sending word back to my wife I, with sev
eral others, pushed ou to Wellsville to get a
glimpse of the man who had so nearly in
vaded the soil of the old Commonwealth.
Wellsville, then a small town, was filled
with excited people, almost'every male car
rying a weapon of some sort And such
weapons as some of them were every style
of firearm from an old bell-niouthed blun
derbuss to bright shining Enfields.
Morgan's captors, covered with dust, but
carrying themselves as proudly as though
they had captured a score of Southern arm
ies, soon marched into the town. In the ab
sence of a strong jail Morgan and his offi
cers were taken to the Missouri House, the
principal hotel. While here men, women
and children surged into the hotel. Not
withstanding the menacing looks of many
of his visitors, Morgan seemed perfectly un
moved, and listened to the threats of hang
ing, etc., with the utmost nonchalance.
Just as Morgan was about to be taken
to the room which had been prepared for
him, a young girl, not more than 18, stand
ing in the front row of spectators, sprang to
the side of the prisoner. She was quite
pretty, a brunette with regular features, and
a well rounded figure,
A TYPICAL DAUGHTEE' OP DIXIE.
Her great brown eyes flashed as Bhe
turned to the crowd, which a moment before
had been advocating a dose of hemp for the
prisoner, and soundly berated them for even
thinking of taking such summary vengeance
on a prisoner of war. For a moment the
crowd stood silent as they gazed on the
strange scene, a scene worthy of the skillful
hand of a great painter. 'She's a rebel,
too,' they yelled. 'There's secesh for you.'
" 'Yes, I am a rebel.' she haughtily said,
stepping in front ot the cavalryman, 'I am
prond of it'
"Then turning her back on the mob, she
looked into the raider's eyes with unutter
able pity as he stood there helpless, then
clasping her arms around his neck she im
pressed upon his lips a ringing kiss. The
witnesses were thunderstruck. Then they
grew wild, and it is probable that the two
actors in this little drama would nave been
roughly handled had not the guards cleared
the hotel.
"I afterward learned that the young lady
had been raised in the South, and had come
to Wellsville with her widowed mother
shortly before the breaking outof hostilities.
The lamily lived in town for a long time,
finally moving to Pittsburg, where I under
stand they are living to-day."
Hammond.
HE WAS SMART.
A Country 'Squire Whose Ig-aoraoce Wu
Simply Astonishing.
FijetteTllle Dispatch. J
A good story is told of a certain locality
in Tennessee where no newspapers are taken
and the people "hears all tbey wants to
know." A former citizen of this locality,
living in Texas, wrote to some of his friends
at his old home, and among other items of
news stated that the immigrants were com
ing in so fast that they were eat
ing all the corn up. The person to
whom this enistle was addressed did not
comprehend the meaning of the term "Im
migrants," and inquired of all those he met
if they knew what it was, but none could
give him the desired information. It was
finally determined to send it to a certain
'Squire in the neishborhood who presumed
to know everything. The letter was read to
him and ho was asked: "What are immi
grants?" The 'Squire looked wise, crossed his legs,
scratched his head and replied:
'it's a litue animal between a 'poutun
I and a i
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