10'
THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH, SUNDAY, JUNE- 23, 1890.
-wr
m.
K
I
9
'Mrs. Glaye, fori cannot tee how she is con
nected with the case.
The good doctor has not an analytic mind,
despite his harmless egotism, and I pro
ceeded to enlighten him.
"She is desperately in lore with Durand,
and I know that she has a nature that will
hesitate at nothing. The only thing that I
fear is that she will exonerate the man by
taking all the guilt on her own shoulders.
She left the hotel on the night of the mur
der, lost her diamond earring, and then
boldly denies having left her room. Yon
must -admit it is very strange."
"She is a strange woman, a strange
study," said the doctor slowly, leaning back
in his chair and puffing his smoke up to the
celling. "She puzzles even men," ne said,
after a pause, and in a low voice, as if
speaking to himself. "I thought I knew
flown to the last fiber of humanity; but
what means the change? From boisterous
11 ess to calm, from childish agitation to
dignity. It is two distinct women. Yes,
my friend," he concluded, with a sigh, "I
am puzzled."
"Might not her ailment urge her into
crime?" I asked.
"A woman is all ailment, my friend; the
best woman is wise this minute to be a fool
the nest. But what is her ailment? X do
sot know. I find nothing; lungs, heart,
everything is healthy so far as I can dis
cover. She is nervous, but that means
nothing. She is not insane. "What then?
I cannot say. She should be happy; it she
killed herself to-morrow 1 should" not be
surprised. "Who can read a woman?" he
added, with a slight frown, stiring thought
fully at the ashy end of his cigar. "Bahl
It is & conundrum, and I give it up." He
looked toward me with a smile.
"But, doctor, if she is capable of killing
herself, she is also capable of murdering
another."
"It is not my place to condemn her, and
so I prefer to think well of her. One thing
I feel sure, if she loves this Durand, she is
too proud to marry a man charged with
murder."
"There you make a mistake, doctor. Ac
cording to" my belief, even if she is innocent,
she will be only too happyno vindicate ber
love, and show its intensity by marrying
the man against whom all the world has
turned. II she knows of his guilt, the de
sire will be stronger, lor she will marry him
that she may not be foiced to testify against
him."
"Ahl You think so!" exclaimed the doc
tor after a long pause, during which time he
had been staring at my face without seeing
me.
"I am sure of it! And if she is not a part
ner, she has witnessed the crime. She was
out at the time of the murder; she was near
the scene of murder, for the fragment of fine
black stuff that we discovered on the black
berry bushes belonged to a shawl that 1 saw
on a chair in her room. She participated in
the crime or she witnessed it!"
"Ah! You think sol" again said the doc
tor, in a mechanical voice, and without re
laxing in his stare. "It is bad!" he added,
with a deep sigh.
"Bather good. Doctor, very good. For if
lean find her in one of ber hysterical moods,
I feel sure that I can so work on her feel
ings that she will tell me all she knows."
"She is not that kind of a woman."
"Yoii forget the kind of man she has to
deal with." I answered proudlv. "Lecoq
Fox is equal to the emergency. Beside, she
has already made me her confidant. She
has told me items of her family history
which, both as a detective and as a man, I
must not reveal even to you."
I was amused by the good doctor's sur
prise, which was plain to me, despite his
strong effort to control it His pride was
evidently hurt that I should have succeeded
when he the world reader had failed.
"And she has been robbed, too," he said,
after a panse, "of jewelry and of papers. It
is very Strang."
"Very cunning," I answered, scornfully.
"t is a good story to lead me off the scent."
Then she must deliberately lie," said the
tor, thoughtfully. "Bah! I can make
thing of it."
He again sank into a perplexed silence,
taring at him I remembered a little inci
lent of the morning, and so I said, sud
denly: "Doctor, will you please minutely de
scribe, the bead covering of the murdered
woman? The reason of the question I will
tell you in a moment."
"Have I not already told you? A black
straw hat, tied under" the chin with a blue
ribbon, and attached to the hat a blue
spotted veil."
" "You said nothing of the veil in your de
scription." "Then I am a pudding-head. For, "look
you, the veil attracted my particular no'tice,
for to discover the situation of the wound I
had to move it aside. It was just over the
wound and was thick with blood."
I now produced the hat discovered by the
wharfinger.
"Is this the article?"
"This is the article or its ghost!" he said,
eagerly. "Where did you find it?"
I told him, and he agreed with my expla
nation of the discovery.
"It seems as if murder will out, my
friend," he said, slowly and solemnly. "It
is very strange, very wonderlul 1"
"And very lucky, doctor. I have sent
down to the city to discover the where
abouts of the woman, Ella Constant. If
she has disappeared from the city, and if we
can trace her here on the evening of the
murder, we shall have made up our case. I
am willing to wager that the girl will be
traced to this place when she mysteriously
vanishes. As to the murderer or murderers,
I am equally certain, and in a couple of
days, my good doctor, you will see justice
vindicated by one who" has not been fairly
treated. They may ruin Lecoq Fox's chances,
but they can't rob him of his talents, as Mr.
Durand will find, even though he takes to
his heels to avoid me 1"
"We discussed the subject for an hour or
so more without striking on anything ot
value, and then, with many apologies for
Jack of conveniences, we drank a parting
glass of wine and the doctor showed me to
a cozy little bed room on the floor above. I
intended to do many things before I went to
bed for one thing look over carefully the
fragments of letters that I had loand at
Durand's house, and piece them together in
proper sequence; but I was tired, and had
eaten and drank too much. I kicked off my
clothes, and crept into bed, and, though I
slept, I was afflicted with a nightmare all
night. It was dream after dream, and I
must have got up and walked in my sleep,
for when I waked in the morning I had my
clothes on, and my polished boots were cov
ered with mud. I know I dreamed of the
murder all night, and jumbled things to
gether most beautifully. What I remem
bered most vividly in the morning
was a curious dream fancy about the
good doctor. I dreamed I saw him
sitting in his shirtsleeves in the
room below, intently studying a big book,
with a spray of golden rod fastened fan
tastically on his shirt front. I dreamed
there was a tap on the door, and that be
hastily jumped up and opened it,, and wel
comed into the room the pretty black-haired
lady whom I had met on the Veranda ot the
hotel. The young woman wore a big spray
of wild asters on the bosom of her dress, and
the doctor pnt his arm around her waist and
kissed her gently on boih cheeks. I then
dreamed they held a long whispered con
versation, of which I only caught a few dis
connected words. Toward the end of the
dialogue, however, I caught a sentence
which 1 afterward repeated and repeated in
my sleep in the most meaningless and idiotic
manner. I dreamed the black-haired woman
said:
"Golden rod in the window means tran
quillity; asters, danger."
"As usual, my dear!" nodded the doctor.
"Golden rod, tranquillity; asters, danger."
In my sleep the phrase fascinated me, and
ever afterward, throughout the night, I kept
repeating, as it by machinery:
"Golden rod, tranquillity; asters, danger!"
CHAPTER VL
What recalled this phase of my dream to
my memory was the following trifle: On en
tering the sitting room next morning, I saw
a gorgeous spray of golden rod in a vase on
the little round table in one of the windows.
This brought my dream to me like a flash,
and for the time being 2 was mightily
tickled by it.
The hospitable doctor was in the kitchen
preparing breakfast. He greeted me most
cordially. The breakfast hour was still
some three-quarters of an hour distant, and,
not to disturb my host, and at the same time
to begin my day's work, I went out into
the open air and walked in the direction of
the hotel to receive the report of Policeman
Blind, who had presumably watched all
night, and to dismiss him for a few hours'
needed sleep. He had nothing very valu
able to report. Guests, male and female,
had left the hotel and returned to
it, but not the particular woman
whom he had been ordered to watch.
A light had burned in her room all night,
and all night the shadow of a woman
sitting in an arm-chair had been thrown on
the down-drawn curtain. The shadow bad
not moved for hours, and it was still visible
until the sun rose and swallowed the night
shadows. I glanced up at the room; it was
over the veranda roof, but saw nothing, of
course, but the down-drawn enrtain. Just
above this room was an open window and in
it was a spray of golden rod. While I was
gazing at it I caught a glimpse through the
open window of a pretty-faced, black-haired
maiden, who was none other than the wom
an I had met the day before on the veranda.
A charming, innocent face, but I could not
admit it just then for I again thought of my
dream.
"Golden rod tranquillity; asters, danger!
I repeated aloud, and thoughtfully.
"Were you there?" asked Policeman
Blind; his foolish face filled with astonish
ment. "What do you mean?" I asked with
dignity.
"Why, sir," he answered, "while I was
watching here last night a woman came out
of the hotel, and as she was muffled up so I
couldn't see her face. I thought first it was
the woman I was set to watch. It was a
black, dark night, and I lollowed the
muffled-up figure for a space. , It came down
the road and was met by a man in a big
overcoat, with the high collar pulled about
his ears and face. The two walked back
toward the hotel talking in whispers. They
stopped at the hotel steps, and I heard the
woman say:
"Golden rod in the window means tran
quillity; asters danger."
"As usual, my dear Joan. Golden rod
tranquillity; asters danger." The woman
entered the hotel again and the man passed
down the road; but somehow or other the
thing stuck in my memory, and as I watched
I kept repeating, "Golden rod tranquillity;
asters danger," like a machine.
"tie called her Joany-
"Yes, and that is what proved to me she
wasn't the woman I was watching; for you
said her name was Amelia Amelia Glayel"
"Would you know the man again?"
"No; for I didn't particularly notice him,
and then, I wasn't told to watch any manl"
The fellow's stnpidity was exasperating;
but with our police system run by politi
cians, and merit and skill deliberately kept
in the background, what can you expect? I
dismissed the man until evening, and then,
with a last glance at the open window,
trotted back to the doctor's cottage.
I put a different interpretation on my
dream now, and saw in it more truth than
nightmare 'The hard nut I was at that
moment trying my teeth on was: Did the
doctor surreptitiously meet the black-haired
maiden, and if so, wh?t was the cause of the
midnight meeting? Was the black-haired
woman's named Joan, and who was she, and
what was her antecedents? Was this last
discovery connected with the murder that I
had determined to unravel? These questions
were more easily asked than answered, but
though the fog was deepening around me I
"did not despair. For one thing, I deter
mined to keep an unblinking and pro
fessional eye on the doctor and his doings
without letting him snspecl.
Dr. Brandt was "waiting breakfast for me,
and hegoodnaturedlygrumbled at my delay,
especially as the "omelet soufflee" was in
danger of spoiling. I was as hungry as a
hunter, and, as an appetizing odor was nil
around me, I temporarily forgot my profes
sion to ply my knife and fork like a man. I
was not tempted by the airy omelet, which
the doctor said was "light as a woman's
sigh," but I hung on the solids, especially
the mushrooms on toast and the Hamburg
steak. My host talked gaily, but his humor
was forced; every now and "then he uncon
sciously stopped speaking for a second or
so, and his attitude and expression suggested
that he was listening. He talked on indif
ferent subjects, and I purposely followed his
lead to see how long it would be before he
referred to the murder. Once when hewas
giving me an elaborate account of Heidel
berg he suddenly broke off to ask:
"Did you sleep well, my friend?"
When I answered, "sound as a top," a
cloud seemed to lift from' before his face.
"The waves plash, plash, plash ever," he
said, "and I feared the sound might disturb
you. It did me at first."
"I like the sound, doctor. But what a
wonderful place this is for golden rods and
asters." I continued innocently. "The fields
round about here this morning are all gold
and white. I shall take a big batch back to
the citv with me when I go."
"Shall you go soon?" ,
"I shall send a description of the man
Durand down to headquarters, or, rather, to
be exact, I sent the description Jdown last
night br one of my assistants."
"So! You have assistants here?" he asked
in surprise. "I thought it was your pride to
unravel the mystery alone."
"I cannot be everywhere, and so I have a
man watching the hotel, and two or three
others in different situations."
I exaggerated ior a special reason of my
own.
"Have yon received any fresh informa
tion?" This time his anxiety was badly con
cealed. "Enough, doctor, to warrant me in the
belief that the murder hides a greater mys
tery than I at first suspected. The man
Durand could tell a great deal, but just
now he is out of my grasp. The mature and
pretty Amelia Glaye could tell me a great
deal, and I shall pay her another visit to
day; but I now believe there are other
people mixed np in the crime who could tell
me a great deal if they wished."
"You know them, ray friend?"
"I will discover them in good time. At
the present moment the woman Amelia
Glaye interests me most; she andthe woman
Joan I"
I said this at random, but with delibera
tion, and was rewarded by seeing the doctor
drop the spoonful of cream that he was
raising to his lips. He quickly recovered,
but not before I congratulated myselt on
my subtle diplomacy.
"Who is Joan?" he asked calmly.
"You shall hear all in good time, doctor.
Just now I am working to surprise you."
"Lecoq Fox." he nodded approvingly.
"You deserve the name. Ahl but the guilty
would tremble if they knew you were on
their track. I am proud to call you friend.
Joan!" he murmurred, thoughtfully. "It
is a pretty name!"
"And the maiden that bears it is also
pretty!" I answered, again at random, but
with inspiration.
This time my host was entirely unmoved.
"Detectives are lncky men," he said,
chncking gayly. "Lecoq Fox and the da
mozelle Joant If I were younger, I could
envv you."
I exerted all my skill to draw him out,
but he was either too ignorant or too cun
ning to fall into the trap. After the one
success I scored, lie defied me with his
Innghing good humor, assumed of course.
He indulged in a smiling discourse on the
word "Joan," quoted Latin, Greek, German
and Sanscrit ior all I know, and enlight
ened me on a wonderful page of religious
history. For a time interest absorbed sus
picion, and t joined in his laughter till my
sides ached.
But I had work to do. I parted with the
doctor and devoted a conple of the morning
hours to the runaway Durand, I questioned
everybody within a radius of a quarter of a
mile, but not a single individual could give
me the smallest item of information. No one
had seen Durxnd, no one knew that he had
gone away. No one remembered to have
seen him on the day before, hut I soon dis
covered that everybody suspected him of
having a hand in the crime. He had spoken
freely to his iriendsof his love affair; he had
called Ella Constant, the murdered woman, a
"leech," a "curse of his life," and an obstacle
to a rich marriage. I also learned that he
was head and ears in debt, and that the olie
dream of his life' was the making of money
without work. As I delved deeper into this
unsavory history I discovered that the man
Durand bad spoken of his conquest on the
heart of Amelia Glaye, and even went so
far as to assert that be preferred the "dear
old sedate lady to all the. giddy girls in the
place." Everybody called him good-natured,
but they spoiled the compliment by adding
that he'was reckless, and that, when under
the influence of wine, of which be was un
wisely fond, he was more of a wild animal
than a reasoning man.
This was all very satisfactory as far as it
went, and confirmed me in the belief that
Cyril Durand played the principal part in
the tragedy. Bnt'where did my friend, the
doctor, come in? It did not want any very
fine reasoning to arrive at the conclusion
that both Cyril Durand and Amelia Glaye
were interested in removing the persistent
Ella Constant out ot their path. But what
interest had Dr. Brandt in it? He discov
ered the crime and notified the authorities.
He had assisted justice by removing a
couple jewels from the dead body, a very
valuable assistance as I was soon to dis
cover, and through ,his energy the lost dia
mond earring of Mrs. Glaye had been found.
So far as the crime was concerned, every ac
tion of his had been that of an honest, con
scientious man. Bnt what was the meaning
of his mysterious meeting with the woman
called "Joan?" For my own sotisfaction I
determined to find out at once. The woman
had entered the hotel, and consequently her
name would be found on the "guests' "
book. The intention was' no sooner formed
than I trotted over to the hotel and consult
ed the register of names. Tho result? The
name "Joan" was only conspicuous bv its
absence. There was "lone," Amelia, Ber
tha, Frances and so on, but not an approach
to a Joan. The clerk could give me no in
formation, and so, for the present, I was
compelled to rest in ignorance. While I
was leaning on the desk speaking to the
clerk the pretty black haired woman of the
veranda came tripping downstairs dressed
as for a walk. But she did not leave the
hotel; she tripped to the desk, received a
conple of letters and then tripped upstairs
again. , ,
"Who is that pretty woman?" I asked the
clerk, after he had given his- black mus
tache its most fascinating curve.
"Miss lone Grande," he answered, gazing
after the disappearing sylph.
"Any of her folks here?"
"No, she is a sort of confidential compan
ion and friend of Mrs. Glaye. Waits on the
elder lady, who is an invalid."
"Come here with her?"
"No; succeeded a woman who was as ugly
as she is pretty."
"A quiet, lady-like creature."
"A patient, amiable angel," said the
young clerk enthusiastically.
"Very attentive to her mistress?"
"Wearing her life out by humoring the
whims of an eccentric. Up with the old lady
every night in the week or very near."
"The mistress seems to be very quiet."
"You bhould have lived here for the last
four weeks!" said the clerk dryly. "Hys
terics and a million contradictory orders a
day. Bnt she pays well for it and it is none
of my business." " I had a burning desire to
become more closely acquainted with the
fascinating lone Grande, and so I slipped
up the stairs and tapped on the door of Mrs.
G I aye's sitting room. As I expected, it was
opened by the charming lone.
"I would lite to see Mrs. Glaye."
"Impossible just now," she said softly,
gliding inlo the hall and closing the door
after her. "She has been very nervous;
awake all night, and she is peacefully sleep
ing now. If yon would come to the hotel
parlor and deliver the message to me, I will
faithfully report it to Mrs. Glave. Or if this
is impossible, yon might call in a couple of
hours, when she will probably be awake."
It was a soft, sweet voice, a soft, sweet
manner, and if purity and innocence were
ever written on the face of a woman, they
were written in that of Miss Jone Grande.
"If it is no trouble I will follow you to
the parlor."
She led the way to a huge room, richly
furnished, and stood with one white hand on
the table gazing inquisitively at me. Save
ourselves, the room was empty.
"Yon have beard ot the murder that was
committed here?" I asked, keeping a pro
fessional eye and ear widely open.
"I have heard of it, sir, and the horror of
it has haunted me ever since. It was hor
rible." , ,
"You will then be rejoiced to hear that I
am Detective Felix Fox, sent down herejjto
discover the guilty parties."
The little eyebrows were still inquisitively
raised, as if the little head was puzzling it
self to discover what bearing the announce
ment had on her.
'You know, Miss Grande, that in working
out a case like this a detective is frequently
compelled to ask questions that at surface
seem very impertinent.
"I did not know it," she said, with a fas
cinating little smile, "and I thank you for
telling me. Am I to be asked impertinent
questions?"
"I came to see Mrs. Glaye; but you could
help me considerably with a little infor
mation." "What am I to tell? I fear yon will find
me a very useless witness."
'Let me judge. You know that Mrs..
Glaye went out on the night of the murder,
aud that it was a very unusual thing for her
to do. I understand that you offered to ac
company he- and she refused?"
"As she had the right to do."
"You saw her when she returned?"
"Necessarilv."
"She was excited?"
"Yes."
"Panting as one out of breath from a long
walk or a struggle."
"Hysterical is the word that will save me
from a false interpretation of a kind lady's
condition. "
"Yet ycu noticed and were surprised at
the condition?"
"I noticed it, but was not surprised," she
answered quietly. "I was not interested in
it further thau its elfect on Mrs. Glaye's
health."
"You called the doctor?"
"Yes; but she bad regained her calmness
before be came. I never saw her so calm
since I first knew her."
"You have been with her long?"
"A little over three weeks. By your per
sonal questions I bejin to fear that you sus
pect me," she said, with what I c'au only
call the whisper of a light laugh. "It is not
flattering."
"And it is not true. Professionally I am
only interested in Mrs. Glaye."
She had the most attractive smile I ever
saw, and rewarded my implied compliment
by flinging a coquettish one at me.
"My mind is relieved!"
"Then we will continue the inquisition.
Yon are acquainted with Mr. Durand?'?
"He does not even know my name."
"Yet you must have seen him."
"Only transiently as the visitor of Mrs.
Glaye. At such times I am not in her
room." ,
"He visited her frequently?"
"She was a great temptation to a reckless
young man without money." This with icy
disdain. "It was rumored that he was in
love with the daughter. Mrs. Glaye never
attempted to conceal that it was she with
whom he was in love."
"He intended to marry her?"
"He never spoke to me; I can only say
that she intended to marry him."
To be continued next Sunday.
HOW THE ANCIENTS 6W0BE.
Derivation of the Ererjday Expression of
By Jlmlny Oniba for Ladle.
Among the ancient Romans it was con
sidered the thing for each man to have some
particular god to habitually swear by.
Some swore by Jupiter, others by Mars,
others still by Minerva, and to on. Castor
and Pollux were usually appealed to as the
"Twins" "By Geminilr' the phrase
whence we get onr exclamation, "By
Jiniiny."
It was thought very improper for Boman
ladies to swear by the male gods, but they
were permitted to take the names ot the
Twins in vain, and also especially that of
Venus. In moments of great aggravation
they might go so far as to cry "Mecastorl"
"By Castor!" The Greeks iwore by the
cabbage, which was the most prized of
YegettD.es.
VIRGINIA SKETCHES.
Sad Story of Evelyn Belle and Her
Faithless Foreign lover,
A7ALLEI OF MOST RARE BEAUTY.
Climbing the Indian Trail That Leads to
the Top of Stony Man.
IB ASCENT BT BALLOON PBOPOSBD
WBITTElI TOB TUB DISPATCH. J
LIi in long hay he stood
and raked, and I stood
by and asked: "Was
Evelyn Belle truly such
a beautiful girl?"
"She wur thet, indeed,
stranger. I mind her
co,min' down the old line
thar singin' an' smilin'
ter hnsself. Thar wern't
anything wrong them
days. It war a purty
thing ter see her ridin'
astraddle er the young
colts, an' dashin' over
ther fields an' fences
crronnd. She didn't
seem ter keer she didn't, far nothin.'
One night, nigh unter seedin' time, las'
fall, my wife, Mandy, woke me up an' call
thet thar wis somebody hnntin' coons over
thur in the woods back er the
thicket, an' when I went, lo! thar
wur nobody but Evelyn an' the' dogs, out
in ther middle o' thet night, by her
Se Paused on the Xiekely'Tbp JiaiU
lone se'f, huntin coons. She wur brave es
a lion, she wur, an' sir, as good hearted as
an angel. She would er been livin' yet but
fur thet English- fellar. The dog-goned
fellar made her believe he wur agoin' ter
marry her. I dunno what he did, but
pearin' ter me he didn't do the squar' thing.
Evelyn she jus' believe'd ev'ything he hed
tur say, like er foolish thing; an' I wur
glad when thet old surveyin' corps went
away from 'bout heah. It's it's metty hot,
ain't it?"
"Yes; but did you never hear anything of
him after he went away?"
A SAD, SAD STOBY.
"No, on'y he sent Evelyn a novel call
Taginny of Vaginny.' I think it wur
wrote by thet young woman over en Albe
marle. Anyway, Evelvn read an" read it,
tell she wnr mos' out o' her head," and the
story runneth thus:
That one moonlit night she mounted a
horse and rode and rode, whither no one
knew. But when the sun peered over the
blue mountain that next morning it shone
upon a thing it had been afraid to look
upon. For Evelyn Belle lay there at the
foot of Stony Man, a small, blue gash in her
temple, whence a puddle of blood had oozed,
quite dead.
"And do you not miss your daughter
very much?"
The sun went down on my mistake.
Those words bad hurt him, and he did not
answer, but cried like a child. I went be
fore him over the fence, and stopped to look
back, for he had paused on the rickety old
top-rail, his brows knit, his manner changed,
tne whole man wrought out ot himself.
Slowly he raised his arm and his weather
beateu eyelids upward, and exclaimed, in a
husky sort of whisper that went through
me: "Before my God, stranger, I would like
ter kill thet manl"
LAST ACT OF THE TKAGEDT.
It is singular and most remarkable in
deed, this I am telling. Little did he know
what was occurring that very hour aye,
perhaps, that minute. It is a month since
my interview with that old man, and it was
many miles from there that yesterday I sat
on the piazza surrounding a beautiful old
world home and learned of the last act of
this tragedy. Someone handed me a paper
printed o'n the morning after my interview
with the old man, and called attention to
this paragraph:
"Suicide of a Young Surveyor. George
K shot himself through the" head in his
room at the hotel yesterday evening just as
the sun was going down. No reason is as
signed for the act," etc.
I cannot say whether it was the result of
remorse or no. Nor do I claim that the
happening was at all unnsual, for there is
more of such in this sad world than is
iS&i3s-
The Old Augusta Meeting Bouse.
dreamt of, if two and two could be put to
gether; but it is so remarkable that at the
hour of our conversation ont there in the
fields, Georgo K sent himself to his ac
count with a pistol ball. If such things
were all written about, what volumes they
would makel
POVERTY IJT A LAND OF BEAUTY.
From tragedy and the narrative to simple
descriptive is an abrupt transition, yet we
must turn again to the lovely country in
which we found the father of that unlortu
nate girl. His little home nestles at the
foot of a spur oi the big Massanutton
Mountain, which separates the Page Valley
from tne Shenandoah, and to people who
have traveled this section of Virginia it
need not be said that it is the most beautiful
valley in all the country; .that here the sun
shines sweetest and the moon softest; that
the birds sing sweetest and winds blow
gentlest.
For this is the impression invariably car
ried away by the visitor. Butover in the
mountains yonder there are bare driven
fields and stubby trees, and lank poverty
ridden people, who, they say, live mostlyon
berries in summer, and tie their dogs at
night that they themselves may get what
persimmons fall during autumn months,
and then in winter they starve, and yet
somehow manage to live. One such did I
aee yesterday picking berries by the road
A
l 'Vfcj ,
- rsatr
side, and I should not care to meet those
hungry, wolfish eyes in the dead of night,
and u the mouutain tops.
, THE TRADITIONAL CHT7BCH HOUSE.
There is a little churob standing here, on
the old Valley turnpike, which bears an in
teresting story. It is the old Angusta
meeting-house, and wis surrounded by a
large breastwork in the days ueiore the In
dians were driven westward. But my story
is not with the pioneer tinies.-nor of the
past. To-day, this very hour, up among the
rafters of that church live one of the most
ancient and interesting families there is,
perhaps, on the face of the globe. Think ot
it 1 Up among the rafters father, mother,
grandfather, grandmother and the great
great and noble ancestry for generations un
told have here lived and thrived. What
they live upon, whether it be bats or owls,
or the nightly offerings of some ghostly pre
decessor, has'been all mystery to the good
people of the Shenandoah. But there to-day
the lean old mother suckles a brood offive
strapping young ones. Here is the original,
traditional church mouse; but "I'll be gol
durned," quoth the rustic, "ef the' ain't the
fattes' church mice the' Is in the land."
I said it was a mystery about the manner
of their livelihood, but it is no longer. In
the yard without there is a-burying ground,
and the bones of hundreds of old Christians
repose there, or at least did. For leading
from the old church there is a hole down
and down through many cavernous under
ground passageways, and there every night
the feast is spread, and this ancient family
gather around and raise (heir eyes in thanks.
They are not poor, nor will they ever be as
long as the old graveyard is being replen
ished. Think! think of having your big toe
nibbled off, then served up in nibbles
and passed around until all have nibbled
sufficiently.
WAT UP ON STONY MAN.
TJp the water course and up the moun
tains back of Luray to Stony Man is a ro
mantic ride, and there is, perhaps, one of
the most beautiful views in the world. The
Valley ot Virginia in its entirety stretches
beneath and before you, themountains look
like hills, and the tiniest speefcs imaginable
are the cities of Winchester and Staunton.
But people quickly tire of the descriptive,
and nothing more need be said than that if
the view at Harper's Ferry is worth a voy
age across the Atlantic, surely this is worth
a trip from the moon. Few heretofore have
ever been able to make the ascent of these
mountains, but now a pretty road 'is taking
the place of the old Indian trail, and no
one goes to Luray but who wishes to climb
Stony Man.
TJp on the top of it all there is being erect
ed a number of novel cottages and a hotel
which promises mnch. But most unique of
all is to be the method of transportation to
and from Stony Man. You are to be
whirled up aud up in a balloon, and landed
on the tip of the highest mount But when
you get there and learn the traditions of the
place, yon must go and sit some bright
night by the lower crag, which will be
pointed out to you, until the night is half
gone, and hear that little, shrill, jangled
cry float up on the wind irom the gorge be
neath, and think of the beautiful Evelyn
Belle.
Some say it is the wind, but the wind
never sounds that way.
Wilmee Wellington.
testing tee corns.
Holy Undo Sara'n A.iayer Get. the Average
Metal of a Silver Dollar.
Washington Star.
From every fresh lot of silver dollars made
a few are sent to the Government assayer at
Washington for testing. Weighing is bnt a
matter of scales, but it is decreed that the
dollar, for instance, must be exactly nine
tenths silver, the remaining tenth being
copper, and a variation ot not more than
IK grains In the quantity of the noble metal
is allowed. First, the silver dollar has to
be rolled out thin in a machine, because
when the coin is made the silver in it has a
tendency to go toward the middle, so that
the metal on the outside is not so fine as
within. But the assayer must discover the
average fineness of the piece in order to
ascertain just how mnch silver there is alto
gether in it, and he does this in a very
curious way. )
He passes the thin strip ot metal into
which the dollar has been rolled through a
little contrivance operated by a crank that
is turned by the hand. The strip comes out
punched as full of boles as it can be, while
hundreds of small circular disks about the
size of a gold quarter fall out of the holes
thus made into a tiny box below. Next the
disks are taken out of the drawer and mixed
up; a few of them are taken from the lot and
they, representing the average of silver, are
subjected to chemical analysis.
LIONS AND LOCOMOTIVES.
They Cnnnot Exl.t Together, So the King of
Beasts Must Go.
The lions of India appear to be going the
way of the great bustard and the dodo, says
the London Daily News, and the reason is
found in the extension of railways, for the
monarch of the forest shares with Mr.
Buskin a mortal antipathy to the smoke
and screams of locomotives. Within the
memoryof many persons lions were common
enough inBajputana, and even now the roar
of one maybe heard occasionally in the wild
est parts of Central India; but the new rail
way from Nagpur is now being constructed
through this country, and this is practically
a notice to quit served upon the few remain
ing lions in the central provinces.
Practically the only lions now remaining
that are worth mentioning seem to be the
race existing in,Kattywar,which was visited
by Prince Albert Victor the other day.
Their numbers remain, it is believed, pretty
stationary. .
A DIAMOND IS USEFUL.
The Rcn.on n St. Lou). Drnmmcr Bm for
Wearing- rt Cheap Sparkler.
A St. Louis drummer, says the Olobe
Democrat, says he has lound by experience
that a small diamond worn in the necktie
not in the shirt front served as a badge of
respectability wherever be went. If he went
into a restaurant and found that he had for
gotten his pocket-book he was never asked
to leave his watch until he could pay his
bill, and he was never asked to pay in ad
vance by an hotel clerk if he went to the
hotel withaut baggage. In short, wherever
he went that little 60 diamond proclaimed
that there was a man who was not pressed
for money and who could be trusted.
TSEFOX IN THE KITCHEN.
A Very Simple Arrangement for Scraping
Meat and Scaling FUb.
St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
The accompanying sketch illustrates very
thoroughly a simple and novel kitchen
utensil, with which meat can be finely
scraped and which also serves for the scaling
of fish. Jt is made ol steel plate con
structed in the shape ot a shell Its
upper part is provided with a wooden
holder, f the lower part is sharp
toothed. Headers can easily see how this
unique device must be handled. If used for
scraping and chopping meat this must be
first cut in thin slices. Then hold the piece
of meat with your left hand and with the
right scrape the meat with the scraper, ap
plying a slight pressure. Chopped meat
prepared in this way is much looser and
more juicy and perfectly free from fibers,
which is not the case with meat that the
bntcher chops for us. In scaling fish the in
strument is used in much the same manner,
being scraped against the layers of scales.
PYRAMIDS OF SNOW.
Beautiful Honnl Shasta and the
Other Oregon Earth Giants.
THE SOURCE OP THE SACRAMENTO.
Wonders of Crater Lake, In Which no
' Lino Has Beached a Bottom.
STREAMS THAT DELIGHT 8P0ETSHES
fCOBKISrONDESCS OT TUB DISrjLTCH.l
Portland, Oee., June 17.
With the exception of the Canadian
Pacific and the Bio Grande, there is no rail
way on this continent which offers to tour
ists such a nnique and imposing variety of
mountain and forest scenery as the Oregon
and California, or Shasta route, which con
nects San Francisco with Portland. For many
hours -after leaving Sacramento the train
follows the banks of the Sacramento river,
whose water in this upper part is as clear as
the Bhine in Switzerland. No fewer than
18 times does the tram cross the winding
river, which at every turn offers a new
picturesque view. t
But it is not until Hi. Shasta comes
into view that the real grandeur of this
route is made evident. Mr. Bryce in his
"American Commonwealth" insinuates that
there is little fine scenery in this conntry;
bnt if there is another railroad
in the world which skirts the
base of an isolated snow mountain over
14,000 feet in height, and so vast in cir
cumference that it takes the train five or
six hours to get around it, I have not seen
it or heard of it. And Shasta is only one
of half a dozen snow peaks which may be
aamirea on this route and us continuation
north to Tacoma and Seattle.
A WONDERFUL SERIES.
There is something absolutely unique
about what may be called the Oregon sys
tem oi mountain peaKS (since uregon once
embraced all this region), beginning with
Shasta (14,440 feet) in Northern California,
and including the Three Sisters (8,600
feet), Mt Jefferson (9,000 feet) and Mt
Hood (11,200 leet), in Oregon, and Mts.
St Helens (9,750 feet), Adams (9,670 feet),
and Tacoma (14,444) in Washington. Else
where as in Switzerland, or along the
Canadian Pacific Bailway snow peaks are
always adjacent or tumbled together in
irregular groups; and this is the case even
in the Sierra Nevada of Central California.
But the "Oregon" earth giants, from
Shasta to Tacoma, are all isolated peaks
separated by many miles from other peaks,
with only a low range of monntaius to con
nect them; and this gives them a grandeur
and individuality which is lacking in peaks
that simply lorm one ot in Irregular group.
As Mr. Joaquin Miller poetically puts it:
"Here the shining pyramids of white, start
ing sudden and soli'ary from the great black
sea of firs, standing as supporting pillars to
the dome of intense blue sky, startle, thrill
and delight you, though you have stood un
moved before the sublimest scenes on
earth."
GRANDEE THAN MT. WHITNEY.
It is owiug to this isolation that Shasta is
the grandest mountain iu California, Mt
Whitney is several hundred feet higher, bnt
it stands in a region where there are 100
peaks each over 13,000 feet in height, and
therefore is not able to assert itself properly.
Moreover, Whitney is several hundred
miles further south, where the solar heat
disposes of the snow fields every summer
and does not compel them to seek the valley
in the shape of glaciers; whereas Shasta has
five glaciers, one of which is more than
three miles long. Jefferson, Hood and Ta
coma also have some fine glaciers, easily
accessible.
As compared with the mountains of Switz
erland, Shasta has this advantage, that,
whereas the former rarely, even in summer,
have the advantage of standing out against'
a clear, blue sky, which adds so very much
to the sublimity of the scene, Shasta rears
its snowy head day after day and month
after month into the cloudless azure. Late
in summer, however, it loses some ot its
grandeur through the melting of most ot
its snow fields; and in this respect MtHood
is superior to Shasta, as it keeps its snow
mantle throughout the usual Oregon sum
mer. VOLCANIC HEAI INSIDE.
Besides the California sun, the snows of
Shasta have another enemy in the internal
volcanic heat which has not yet subsided.
Shasta has its big craters, and there are a
score of smaller ones in the lower neighbor
ing cones. A few hundred feet below the
summit there is a hot sulphur spring, to
whose heat John Muir and Jerome Fay,
being caught in a snow storm in 1875, owed
the preservation of their lives.
One of the best ways to realize the great
height of Shasta is by noting the very long
time the sun lingers on the mountain side
after it has set at Sissons, in Strawberry
Valley fully half an hour. After it has
gone down, on dark nights in May, a soli
tary star will arise immediately oyer the
summit, looking at first as if some venture
some climber bad started a fire. Dwarfed
by the distance, one does not realize how
jagged are the ridges of Shasta until the
evening sun casts their gray silhouettes on
the adjacent white snow fields.
One of the most interesting places of this
vicinity is the source of the Sacramento
river. About a mile from Sissons at a place
to which steps lead down irom the railway
tracks, the water rushes out from several
springs in a great volume, forming immedi
ately a trout brook of respectable size, which
hurries away in the new daylight as if glad
to have escaped its subterranean source.
FROM MT. SHASTA'S "WEALTH OF SNOW.
These springs issue from under Mt. Shasta
and doubtless owe their being to tbemelting
of snow.and glacier ice by the internal vol
canic heat a worthy origin of so romantic
a river as the Sacramento. Near these
springs is a valuable iron water spring
which is a most valuable possession, now
that Sissons is getting to be a regnlar resort
for the San Franciscans, Portlanders and
Eastern tourists, not only on account of the
view of Shasta, but because ot the beautiful
forest scenery and the excellent trout fish
ing' in the neighboring McCIoud river. Six
large rivers and many smaller ones are born
of Shasta and neighboring peaks, and it is
these icy streams that the trout ana the salmon
delight in. The Sacramento itself, how
ever, does not afford any sport in this
vicinity.
After leaving Sissons, Shasta still re
mains in sight for some -time, for it takes
time even Ior a railway to get away from
a mountain of which it has been remarked
that "If it could be sawed off at the 4,000
foot level, -or BOO feet above the valley, the
oval pltPn thus made would be 80 miles in
circumference." Some ot the views of
Shasta alter leaving Sissons are even
grander than at that station, and in certain
atmospheric conditions the snow cone may
be seen floating, as it were, on a mystic haze
resembling water.
A DIFFERENCE IN RAIN.
Passing on it becomes obvious at once that
the chief difference between Oregon and
California is comprised in the word rain.
Shortly alter crossing the Oregon line evi
dence begins to multiply that we have en
tered the rain belt. There are more decidu
ous trees, more ferns and mosses, more un
derbrush in the pine forests, and, most sig
nificant of all, more rivers. Cali
fornia has in its whole coast line
of 700 miles only one navigable
river, while Oregon, with a coast line
of only 350 miles, has four navigable rivers
the Bogue, the TJmpqua, the Willamette
2. ,hre..c,D'nilbia, with many smaller ones.
The Willamette has some tributaries which
alone would make the fortune of several
counties in Southern California where noth
ing can be done without irrigation, whereas
in Oregon no one but vegetable gardeners
ever think of such a thing. One of these
tributaries is the Puddinyriver, along the
banks of which many charming scenes may
be taken in, and which is full of fish which,
however, have the peculiarity that they
never take a bait In the Santiam and some
ot the other rivers the fishing is elegant, and
the creeks are full of trout and of crawfish,
which are delicious, and of which I have
caught as manjr as a hundred in an hour
with three strings and three pieces of beef.
A favorite form of picnicking in Oregon is to
take a saucepan and salt, catoh a few hun
dred of these tender, juicy crawfish, boil
them and enjoy a feast fit for prelates.
THE RECORD OF RAINFALL.
The rain to which Oregon owes its numer
ous rivers and creeks is not as abundant in
the southern as in the northern part of the
State. There is a gradual transition from
32 inches at Jacksonville to 38 at Salem, S3
atPortland and 72 at Astoria. The Bogue
Eiver Valley has been described as "a com
promise between the droughts of California
and the great rain of the Willamette Val
ley." GraDes are raised here equal to the
best in California, and the peaches have
been known to letch higher prices iu the
San Francisco markets than the California
varieties. Melons are also raised here in
great abundance.
The large lakes, the Upper and Lower
Klamath, will in course of time become the
popular resorts of Oregonians, and some
miles north of the Upper Klamath is Crater
Lake, which, although much smaller, is by
the Oreconiao considered the greatest curi
osit7 n the Pacific coast, and which used to
be, and still is, regarded as holy ground by
the Indians of the neighborhood. Local
authorities tell us that "in the past none but
medicine men visited it, and when one of the
tribe felt called to become a teacher, he
spent several weeks at the lake in prayer to
the Shabulah Tyee."
"WONDERFUL CRATER LAKE.
Crater Lake lies in the heart of the Cas
cade Monntains, and at so great an eleva
t!?? 5-257 'eet as to be rendered inacces
sible, except in summer, by the denth of the
snow in the surrounding forests. In the old
er guide books Crater Lake is put down as
Mystic Lake. Mystic it certainly is, but its
present name is preferable, because more
definite, for Crater Lake is really a body of
water which, like Tahoe, fills up a volcanic
orifice. And a most gigantic crater it was,
tor the circumference of the lake is more
than 20 miles. There is only one nlace where
one can climb down to the "water; the rest of
uir snore consists ot precipitous walls from
1,600 to 3,000 feet in height, which are less
naming inan tney appear in photographs.
These high walls, which are mirrored in
the water with their fringe of trees, effec
tually shut ont the mountain breeze, so
that the water is placid and rarely ruffled.
There is something mysterious about this
water, for it has no visible or discoverable
inlet or outlet, and yet it is always clear
and sweet Fish, however, 'do not inhabit
it, probably because none have succeeded in
getting there; and even waterfowl, it is
said, avoid this solitary silent mountain
lake.
In the middle of the lake stands an island,
about three miles long, of volcanic origiii,
rising to a point 845 feet high and ending in
a crater 475 feet in diameter.
OF UNFATHOMABLE DEPTH.
There are caves along the shores which
may have some connection with the water
supply as a current is observable near them.
The depth of the lake has never been ascer
tained, but it has been sounded for 2,000
feet without reaching bottom. A few years
ago an effort was made to have the Crater
Lakeregion reserved as the Oregon National
Park, and in 1888 a bill to this effect passed
the United States Senate. As there is much
valuable timber in the neighboring moun
tain ranges and much fine grazing land,
there is reason to believe that a branch road
will ere long connect Crater Lake with the
Oregon and Caiilornia Bailroad, and when
that is built every visitor to the Pacific
coast will feel that he can no more afford to
miss this lake than the other twq scenic
wonders of Oregon, the Columbia river and
Mt Hood.
Going southward toward Portland the
wonderlul fertility of the Willamette Valley
is what chiefly arrests the attention of tour
ists. Wood being cheaper than coal in this
region, tLe train frequently stops to get a
fresh load of fuel from the huge piles of
timber which at intervals extend along the
road,-sometimes a quarter of a mile without,
a "break. ' "
OIANX STALKS OF "WHEAT.
During these stops some young man may
be seen running to a neighboring wheat field
or oat field to compare height with the stalks
sometimes to his disadvantage. But these
rich agricultural lands were all taken up
long ago, and the immigrant with a slender
purse and a desire for Government land has
to seek a region more remote from the rail
way. The towns along this route, including
Boseburg, Eugene, Albany, Salem and
Oregon City, have not grown as fast during
the last ten years as Portland, or as the
towns of Washington and California, but
the inhabitants confidently believe that
their day will come when the more sensa
tional California and Washington towns
have passed through their boom period, and
they modestly claim that they prefer steady
and slow growth to a boom which too olten
becomes a retrograde boomerang. At
Oregon City, tourists should be on the look
out for the falls of the Willamette, below
which the Indians formerly used to spear
salmon, but which now serve the most
prosaic purpose of furnishing water power
to the woolen mills on the spot and electric
power to Portland, 13 miles away.
Henry T. Finck.
HIGHEST EVES PAH).
One of MeUsonlrr'. Famous Canvases Sella
for 850,000 Francs.
Fall Mall Budget
There is nothing like art as an invest
ment if you only know what to buy and
when to sell. Here, for instance, is
Meissoneir's "1814,"which, as reported from
Paris, was purchased the other day from M.
Deiahaute by a dealer for 500,000 francs and
immediately resold to M. Cbauchard,
formerly manager of the Louvre drapery
shop, for 850,000 francs. This amount
($165,000) is not only the highest price ever
given for a picture by a living artist, but,
in proportion to the size of the work, is the
highestprice ever given lor any picture by
any artist living or dead.
The Blenheim Baphael in the National
Gnllery fetched 14 per sqnare inch; the
Terburg, 24; the tiny Correggio, 29. But
"1814," which is 30 inches by 20, has
fetched 58 per square incb, thus beating
by 2 the inch Mr. Buskin's Meissonier (12
inches by 9), which sold at Christie's in
1882 lor 6,090, or 56 per sqnare Inch.
CHEATING THE WIND.
The Broad Headgear i Being: bnperieded
by Narrower and Firmer Articles.
The Season,
Everyone knows what havoc the fresh
winds play with the broad trimmed hats,
which they turn and twist as if Boreal
wished to get a full view ot the fair wearer's
face. And as he plays his pranks mostly
at this time of year our present model hat,
with narrowed brim has doubtless been in
troduced to baffle bis rough play. The fine
straw is trimmed with striped colored velvet
Three large puffs, the front one almost
touching the hair, are gracefully placed
diagonally atrou the hat
NAMES IN ENGLAND.
Tonrists Mustn't Expect to Pronounce
Them as They're Spelled.
SOME VERT AMUSING INSTAHCES.
An Election Affected bj the Unfortunatf
Mouthing of a Word.
HIST3 P0E J5UE0PBAN TEATELEES
rwmxTix von tub DisrATca.i
When the long-looked-for tide of repub
licanism sweeps over conservative England,
on effort will no doubt be made to reform
the spelling and pronunciation of British
proper names. Until that somewhat doubt
ful epoch arrives, however, the average
foreigner will have to wrestle as best he can
with the extraordinary orthography which
now distinguishes the parent country.
Americans are particularly "disgruntled"
by these English names. The child of
Columbia is taught economy of the alpha
bet as well as of the pocket book. He I
thinks it a positive sin to spell s name
"Worcester" or "Gloucester" and pro- i
rtounce it "Wooster" or "Gloster." The I
idea of a man writing himself "Cholmonde-
lev" and expecting the world to call him I
Chnmley," is too much for the letter
sparring Westerner. But John Bull ac
cepts this ridiculous system of nomenclature
with the utmost good humor, and even takes
pride in the stumbling block he has created
lor those not reared in Merrie England.
And these names of places and great
families prove a veritable stumbling block
to the uninitiated. Take for instance the
sad mistakes which Mr. Steelrail, of Pitts
burg, and M. Jacques Bonbomme, of Mont
martre, are bound to make when they start
on their tour through Great Britain. It is
just possible that these distinguished citizens
may obtain an audience with the Most Noble
Maranis. who i nnw Prima "ftTinisf.... Tr
they are so lncky they must not call him
"Lord Salisbury," but rather "Lord Sawls
berry. Do they wend their way to Epsom
Downs to witness the greatest horse race in
the world? If so, it were well to remember
that the name of that race is "Darby," not
Derby. Is Oxford, that "city of palaces,"
the object of their desires? Then let them
note carefully that pronunciation and spell
ing do not walk hand in hand
by the banks of Isis. For instance,
Magdalen College, Joseph Addison's
alma mater, is called "Maudlin College;"
and Cains, another famous college of the
university, is always pronounced "Keys."
in the metropolis it is just as bad. Good
Mr. Steelrail, of Pittsburg; worthy M.J3on
homme, from Montmartre, don't unless you
want to give the cabmen fits, pronounce
Marylebone or Holborn as they are written.
Marylebone is "Marrabun," and Holborn
"Hoban."
SOME FAMILY NA3IES.
Suppose our voyagers have the entree to
good society. It is necessary that they
should learn how to pronounce the great
family names. Here is a list, over
which it may pay them to ponder,
Grosvenor, is pronounced "Grovenor;"
Colquhoun Is Cohoon; and Knollys
"Knowles." St Leger, St John, and St
Clair, are respectively "Sallinger," "Sin
jin," and "Sinclair." Beauchamp must be
called "Beecham," and Brougham,
"Broom." On this side of the Atlantic it
may surprise many to learn that Bulwer is
called "Buller;" "and Cowper, "Cooper."
Majoribanks, in an English mouth, is ab
breviated to "Marchbanks; while Cockburn
and Wemyss become "Coburn" and
"Weems."
If M. Bonhomme and his transoceanic
friends visit the country houses after the
London season they will have to open their
ears very wide in order to catch the pro
nunciation of many historic halls and
castles. Mr. Gladstone's place in Wales is,
as everybody knows, Hawardea Castle. But
this Hawarden is pronounced "Harden,"
althonghLord Hawarden, a prominent Irish,
peer, is called "Haywardeu." Then the
magnificent home oi the Duke of Rutland,
Beauvoir Castle, in Lincolnshire, is spoken
of as "Beaver," which seems a meaningless
corruption of a fine old Norman name.
Among the shires and country towns the
case is quiet as bad. "Norwich" one must
call "Norridge;" Cirencester is pronounced
"Sissister;" while Abergavenny and Bol
ingbroke are turned into "Abergenny" and
"Bullingbrook." Then one must say ""Bark
shire" and "Darlyshire;" and instead of
Alnwick and Berwick speak of "Annick"
and "Berrick."
AN ENGLISH ELECTION STOBT.
Some years ago a near relative of the
writer happened to be wooing the gentle
parliamentary electors of Warwickshire.
The campaign brought the future M. P.
to a certain quarter of the shire, whereof
the 'squire and overlord was one Sir Stuke
ley Shuckburgh. Sir Stokeley was a fine
young fellow, and the Shuckburghs have
lived at Shuckburgh since Edward the Con
fessor's time. But unfortunately there was
a Dowager Lady Shuckburgh who was
touchy in the extreme. Tbe canvassing M.
P. was a good Tory, so Shuckburghs gates
were open to him; but on tbe very first day
of his visit he spoiled all by pronouncing
the name of his host as it was spelled. It
seemed that Shuckburgh was not called
Shuckburgh, but "Sbuckbro." This ap
parently trivial mist ike so incensed old
.Dame S. that the Shuckburgh interest was
lost to the Tory cause at election time.
It will thus be seen that the loreigner hai
no easy time with England'sbig names. By
the time M. Jacques Bonhomme and the
aforesaid Mr. Steelrail, of PittsDurg, get
through their study of English proper
names they will be very fainy tired.
Been an.
MYSTERIES OF AMTffTR.
How Daf and Lizard Were Imprisoned la
It Cenlnrle .Abo.
"Washington Evening Star.
Amber has only recently come to be
understood. The ancients regarded it as
altogether mysterious and even magical.
They found that it was rendered electrical
by friction so as to attract light substances,
and our word "electricity" comes from the
Greek name for amber, which was "electron."
A favorite puzzle with them was how the in
sects so frequently found inclosed in amber
came to be so situated.
I have myself seen a chunk of very trans
parent amber in which a small lizard with
five legs was encased, looking as if it might
have been alive yesterday, though doubtless
it had been dead for thousands of years. The
mystery regarding this sort of phenomenon
is easily enough explained when it is under
stood that amber is actually the fossil gum,
of an extinct kind of cone bearing tree. In
the processor hardening it imprisoned the
flies and other creatures preserved in the
chunks of it that are found to-day.
The finest specimen of amber in Europe
is a cup made of that material now at the
Brighton Museum, England. Amber now
is worth from $2 to $20 a pound, according;
to its quality. The most important uses
made of it is for meerschaum and other pipes.
A Sen-Cbnnze.
rwjtrrnir Fob thz dispatch.!
Alight is dilXtlng down the bay.
Els Jacket is passing fast away
Into the twilight shadows gray.
She walks the lone and silent beach.
And sees, wbere far beyond ber reach.
Beyond the echo of lore's speech,
Beyond the touch of friendly hand,
Out from tbe safety of tbe land,
His boat goes, ably trimmed and manned,
Out ant she sails to meet ber fate
Not so tbe yachtsman, glad, elate;
He has escaped, at any rate.
For on the sands his fate Is left
Tbe web sbe spun with fingers dstt
Like spider's thread, is rent and elsfs,
Far, far recedes tbe shadowy shore,
Tbe lonely lirht is seen no more. '-.-.
Tou've read such tblngs as this beier.,,
nnamn,,
t-il
BsxxraasvjM
. . .