f
lb
had hastilv picked op Lis MSS. and van
ished lrom the room. 'Uically, sir. such
familiarity."
"In the republic cr letters, my good Sirs.
Hobson," said Mr. Bethnne with a smile.
"all taeu are equal. I have been much in
terested in some of your husband's writ
ings." "Oh, sir, don't pat such things in his
head!" she said, as she proceeded to lay the
cloth for dinner. "He's a fool, and that's
bad enough; but if so being you put things
ia his ead, and he giving of himself airs,
It'll be hawfull "What good he is to any
body I don't know. He won't clean a win
der or black & boot eren."
"How can you expect it?" George Be
thune said, in perfect good hnrnor. "Man
ual labor would be a degradation. Ilea of
genius ought to be supported by the State."
"In the workus, I suppose," she said,
sharply but here Maisrie Bethune came
upstairs and into the room, carrying seme
parcels in her hand, and instantly the land--lady's
face changed its expression, and be
came as amiable and smiling as the gaunt
features would allow.
At dinner the old man told his grand
daughter that he had procured (he did not
say how) places at the Tneater for the
following evening, and seemed to be pleased
about this little break in their quiet lives.
"But why did you go to such expense,
grandfather?" Maisrie said. 'Ton know I
am quite happy enough in spending the
evening at home with you. And every day
now I ask myself when I am to begin copy
ing the poems for the volume, you know.
Ton have sent for them to America, haven't
you ? But really you have such a won
derful memory, grandfather. I believe
you could repeat them all and I could
write them down and let the print
ers bave them. I wa so glad when yon
let me help you with the book you
published in Montreal and you know my
writing is clearenough yon remember what
the foreman printer said? Don' you think
we could begin to-night, grandfather? It
pleases you to repeat those beautiful vetses
you are so fond of them and proud of
them because they are written by Scotchmen
and I am sure it would be a delight to me
to write them out for you."
"Oh, yes, yes," he said, fretfully, "but
not to-night. You're always in such a
hurry, Maisrie." And then he added, in a
gentle way: "Well, it is a wonderful bless
ing, a good memory. I never want for a
companion, when I've a Scotch air or a
Scotch song humming through my brain.
On the darkest and wettest day, here in
this big city, what have you to do but
mine 01
"The broom, the yellow, yellow broom,
Trie broom o' the Cowdenknowes,"
and at once you have before yon golden
banks, and meadows, and June skies, and
all else is forgotten. Indeed, lass, Scotland
has become for me such a storehouse of
beautiful things in imagination that I
am almost afraid to return to it, in care the
reality might disappoint me. No, no, it
could not disappoint me: I treasure every
inch of the sacred soil: but sometimes I
wonder if you will recognize the magic and
witchery of hill and glen. As for me, there
is naught else I fear now; there are no hu
man ties I shall have to take no again; I
shall not have to mourn the 'Bourocks o'
Bargeny. "
"What is that, grandfather?"
"If von had been brought up in Scotland,
Maisrie, you would have known what the
biggmg o bourocks was among children
playhouses in the sand. But sometimes the
word is applied to huts or cottages, as it is
in the title of Hew Ainslie's poem. That
poem is one that I shall be proud to give a
place to in my collection," he continued,
with an air of importance. "Hew Ainslie
is no more with us; but his countrymen,
whether in America or at home, are not
likely to forget the 'Bourocks o' Bargeny.' "
"Can you remember it, grandfather?""
"Can I not?" said he; and therewith he
repeated the lines, never faltering once for a
phrase
I left ye, Jeanle, bloomtnc fair
Jiang the bourocks o Bargeny;
I've found ye on tbe banks o' Ayr.
But salr ye're altered, Jeame.
I left ye like tbe wanton lamb
That plays 'mane Hadyed's heathen
I've found ye noo a sober dame
. A wife and eke a mltber.
I left ye 'mang tbe leaves sae green
In rnstic weed befittin';
Pve found ye buskit like a queen.
L can see.
i donbt. Jeanif"
Bnt obi I'd rather met 1' then
'Mang the bourocks o' Bargeny!
f ' "It's very sad, grandfather," she said,
-wistfully.
"The way of the world the way of the
r world," said he; and observing that she had
finished and was waiting for him, he forth
with rose and went to the mantelpiece for
his pipe. "There's many a true storv of
that kind. "Well, Maisrie, you'll just get
your violin, and we'll have "the 'Broom o'
f the CowdenknowesI" And while she went
to fetch the violin, and as he cut his to-
i bacco, he sang in a quavering voicp
O tbe broom, tbe bonnie, bonnie broom,
r The broom o' the Cowdenknowes,
I wish I were at name again
, Where the broom sae sweetly grows!
J And then he went to the window, to smoke
- his pipe in peace and quiet, while Maisrie,
J seated further back in the shadow of the
s- room, nlayed for him the well-known air.
J Did she guess and fear that she might
have an audience of more than one? At all
1 events her doubts were soon resolved: when
she had ceased, and after a second or so of
silence, there came another sound into the
prevailing hush it was one of the songs
without words, and it was being played
with considerable delicacy and charm.
. , - x. '.'Hello, said Mr. Bethune, when he heard
me nun iuH-rjppunjr notes, - nave we a
musical neighbor now?"
"Yes, grandfather," Maisrie replied,
rather timidly. "Last night, when you were
out. someone played."
"Ah, a music mistress, I daresay. Poor
thing perhaps all alone and wishing to be
friendly in this sort of fashion."
They listened without further speech until
the last notes ha"d gradually died away.
"Now, Maisrie, it is your turn!"
"Oh. no, grandfather!" she said, hastily.
"It would be like answering to a
stranger."
"And are we not all slransers?" he said,
gently. "I think it is a very pretty idea, if
that is what is meant. We'll soon see.
Come, Maisrie something more than the
plashing of a southern fountain something
with northern fire in it. Why not 'Helen
ofKirkconnell?'"
The girl was very obedient; she took up
her violin, and presently she was playing
that strangely simple airthatneverthelessis
abont as proud and passionate and piteous
as the tragic story to which it is wedded.
Perhaps the stranger over there did not
know the ballad; but George Bethune knew
it only too well, and his voice almost broke
into a sob ashe said, when she had finished:
"Ah, Maisrie, it was no music-master
taught you that; it was born in yournature.
Sometimes I wonder if a capacity for intense
sympathy means an equal capacity for suf
fering; it is sad if it should be so a thick
skin would be wholesomer, as lar as I have
seen the world and few have seen more of
it Well, what has our neighbor to say?
Their unseen companion on the other side
of the little thoroughfare responded with a
waltz of Chopin's a mysterious, elusive
sort of a thing, that seemed to tade away
into the dark rather than to cease. Maisrie
appeared disinclined to continue this do ut
des programme; but her grandfather over
ruled her; and named the air for her to play,
one by one, in alternation with those
coming from the open window opposite.
At last she said she was tired. It was time
for the gases to be lit, and the hot water
brought up for grandfather's today. So
she closed the window anrTpulled down the
blind; lit up the room; rang the bell for the
hot water; and then placidly sat down to
her knitting, whilst her grandfather,
brewing himself an unmistakable gnide
wiliio wanght, and lighting another pipe,
proceeded to entertain her with .a rambling
disquisition upon the world at large, but
especially upon his own travels and ex
periences therein, his rjhilosoDbical theories.
asd his reminiscences 01 the Scotch country
side ballads of his youth.
That mystic and'enigmatie conversation
with their neighbor over the wsywaBnot
continued on the following evening, for the
old aaa and hit granddaughter went to the
theater; but on the next night it was re
sumed; and thereafter, on almost every
evening, the two windows replied to each
other, as the twilight deepened into dusk.
And Maisrie was less reluctant now she
almost took this little concert a deux as a
matter of course For one thing, the
stranger, whoever he or she might be, did
not seem in any way anxious to push the
acquaintance any further; no one ever ap
peared at that open window; nor had she
ever encountered anyone coming out as she
stood on the doorstep waitiug for her grand
father. As for him, he still maintained that
the new ocenpaut of those rooms must be a
woman perhaps some shy creature, willing
to think that she had 'friendly neighbors,
and yet afraid to show herself. Be
sides, the music that came in
response to Maisrie's Scotch airs
was hardly what a man would hare
chosen. The stranger over there seemed
chiefly fond of Mendelssohn, Chopin and
Mozart; though occasionally there was an
excursion into the Tblkslieder domain "Zu
Strassiurg auf der Schanz," "Esrittcn drei
Rcitcrzwn Thore hinaus." "Von meinem
Bergli muss i scheiden," or something of
that kind; whereas, if it had been a man
who occupied these rooms, surely they would
have heard during the day, for example
a fine bold dittv like "Simon the Cellarer,"
"The Bay of Biscay," or "The Friar of
Orders Gray," with a strident voice out-
roaring tbe accompaniment Maisrie an
swered nothing to these arguments; but iu
spite of herself, when she had to cross the
room for something or other, her eyes would
seek that mysterious vacant window, with
however rapid and circumspect a glance.
And always in vain. Moreover, the piano
was never touched during the day; tbe
stranger invariably waited for the twilight
be'ore seeking to resume that subtle link of
communication.
Of course this state of things could not
go on for ever unless the person over there
possessed the gift of invisibility. One
morning as Maisrie and her grandfather
were going out as usual for a stroll in the
park she went down stairs first, and along
the lobby, and opened the door to wait for
him. At the very same instant the door
opposite was opened, and there, suddenly
presented to her view, was a young man.
He was looking straight across she was
looking straight across their eyes met
without the slightest chance of equivoca
tion or denial; and each knew that this was
recognition. They regarded each other but
for a swift second; but as plainly as possible
he had said to her: "Do you guess? Are
you angry? No, do not be angry!" and
then his glance was averted; he shut the
door behind him and slowly proceeded on
his way. Was she surprised? No. Per
haps she was startled by tbe unexpected
ness of the meeting; perhaps her heart was
beating a little more quickly than usual,
but a profound instinct had already told
her that it was no woman who had spoken to
her in those dusky twilights, evening after
evening. A womau would not have wrapped
herself up in that mysterious secrecy. A
woman who wished to make friends with her
neighbors over the way would have come to
the window, would have Emiled, would have
made some excuse for calling. Maisrie did
not ostensibly look after the young man
but sue could see him all the same, until fie
turned fhe corner. She was vaguely
troubled. The brief glance she had met had
in it a kind of appeal. And she wished to
say inreturn that she was not offended; that,
being strangers,they must remain strangers;
but that sue bad not taken his boldness ill.
She wished to say she did not know what.
Then her grandfather came down; and they
went away together; but she uttered not a
syllable as to what had just occurred. It
-was all a bewilderment to her' that left her
a little breathless when she tried to think
of it
That night, when the customary time ar
rived, she refused to take up her violin; and
when her grandfather remonstrated, she had
no definite excuse. She hesitated and stam
meredsaid they had not played chess for
ever so long or would he rather have a
game of draughts? anything but the' vio
lin. "Are you forgetting your goodnatured
neighbor over there?" her grandfather asked.
"It will be quite a disappointment for her.
Poor thing, it appears to be the only society
she has; we never hear a sound otherwise;
there seems to be no one ever come to talk to
her during- the day, or we should hear a
voice now and again."
"Yes, but grandfather," said Maisrie,
who seemed much embarrassed, "don't you
think it a little imprudent to encourage
this kind of of answering each other with
out knowing who the other person is?"
"Why, what could be more harmless!" he
protested, cheerfully; and then he went on:
"More harmless than music? nothing-.
nothing! Song is the solace of human life;
in joy it is tbe natural expression of our
happiness in times of trouble it refreshes
the heart with other and brighter days. A
light heart a heart that can sing to itself
that is the thing to carry you through life,
Maisrie!" And he himself, as he crossed
the room to fetch a box, of matches, was
trolling gayly, with a fine bravura execu
tion The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
Fu' loud tbe wind blows frae tbe ferry;
The ship rides by the Berwick Law.
And I mann leave my bonnie Mary.
Go fetch to me a pint o' wine.
And fill it in a silver tassie.
That I may drink before I go
A service to my bonnie lassie.
But it's not the roar o' sea or shore
Would make me longer wish to tarry.
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.
Maisrie was not to be moved; but she ap
peared down-hearted a little. As time
went on the silence in the little street
seemed somehow to accost her; she knew she
was responsible. She was playing draughts
with her grandfather, in a Derlunetorr sort
of way. She remembered that glance of
appeal she could not forget it and this
had been her answer. Then all of a sudden
her hand that hovered over the board
trembled, and she had almost dropped the
piece that was in her fingers; for there had
sprang into the stillness a half-hushed
sound it was an air she knew well enough
she could almost recognize the words
Nacbtigall, ich hor" dich singen;
S'Herz thut mir im Lcibe epringen.
Komm nnr bald nnd sag loir's wohl,
Wie icb mich verbalten soil.
Her grandfather stopped the game to
listen; and when the soft-toned melody had
ceased, he said
"There, now, Maisrie, that is an invita
tion; you must answer."
"No, no, grandfather," she said, almost
in distress. "I wonld rather not you don't
know yon must fiod out something about
about whoever it is that plays. I am sure it
will be better. Of course it is quite harm
less, as you say oh, yes, quite harmless
but I should like you to get to know first
finite harmless, of course bnt I am
frightened about a stranger not frightened,
of course but don't ask me, grandfather!"
Well, it was not of much concern to him;
and as he was winning all along the line, he
willingly returned to the game. It had
grown so dark, however, that Maisrie had to
go and light the gas having drawn down
the blinds first aa was her invariable habit.
When she came back to the table she seemed
to breathe more freely; though she was
thoughtful and pre-occupicd not with the
game. The music on the other side of the
way was not resumed that evening, as far as
they could hear.
Several days passed; and each evening
now was silent Maisrie saw nothing more
of the young man; indeed, she studiously
refrained from glancing across to the other
side of the street except w.hen she was
going out 3n wanted to make sure there
was no one there. But something was now
about to happen that entirely altered this
disposition of affairs.
One morning George Bethune and his
granddaughter had gone for their accus
tomed stroll in Hyde Park, and in course of
time bad taken their places on a bench near
the Serpentine, while the old man had taken
out a newspaper and began to read it The
day was sultry, despite an occasional stir
ring of the wind; aud Maisrie sitting there,
and having nothing to do but look at the
water, and the trees, and the sky, observed
that all the world around her was gradually
growing darker. In the South, especially,
the heavens were of a curious metallic hue
THE
a livid gray, as it were; while across that
hung two belts of deepest purpe that re
mained motionless, while other and lighter
tags of vapor were intertwisting witn each
rjther or melting away into notbingness.Those
two clouds were not of the usual cloud form
at nil they were rather like two enormous
torpedoes lying horizontally one above the
other; and there was a somber deadness of
hue about them that looked ominous. Sud
denly, as she was thus vaguely regarding
those long purple swathes, there ran across
them springing vertically upward a
quivering line of yellow flame so thin it
was, it appeared like a thread pf golden
wire and when that had vanished, there
was a second or two of silence, followed by a
cull, low, rumbling noise that seemed to
come from a considerable distance. She
was not much alarmed. There were no
signs of a terrific thunderstorm; probably a
few more flashes would serve to loosen and
disperse those lowering clouds, and allow
the day to clear.
It was at this moment that a young man
came up and addressed Mr. Bethune with
a certain courteous hesitation, and yet in
frank aud ineenuous tones.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said he, "but
may I claim the privilege of a neighbor to
offer you this umbrella I'm afraid there's a
shower coming and the young lady may
get wet" r
It was.a pleasaut voice; George Bethune
looked up wctl-disposedxoward tue stranger,
whoever he might be. And the face of the
young man was also prepossessing; it was
something more than handsome; it was in
telligent and refined; and the honest rnd
straightforward eyes had a certain confi
dence in them, as if they were not used to
having their friendly advances repulsed.
"I thank you I thank you," said
George Bethune, with much dignity. "I
had not observed. .But you will want the
umbrella for yourself we can get shelter
under one of the trees."
"Would that be wise, sir, in a thunder
storm?" said the young man. "Oh, no, let
me give you the umbrella. I don't mind a
shower and it won't be more than that, I
fancy.
George Bethune accepted the proffered
courtesy.
Here, Maisrie; since this young gentle
man is so kind, you'd better be prepared.
A neighbor, did you say, sir?" he con
tinued. "A very nar neighbor," answered the
young man, with a smile, and he seated
himself by the side of Mr. Bethune without
more ado. "I have often thought of speak
ing to you and asking to be allowed to make
your acquaintance; for you seem to have
verv few visitors you will pardon my cu
riosity while I have none at alt"
"Oil, really, really," the old man said,
somewhat vaguely; perhaps he was wonder
ing how so faultlessly-attired a young gen
tleman (his patent-leather boo'ts, for ex
ample, were of the most approved pattern)
should bave chosen lodgings in so humble
a thoroughfare.
"It is a very quiet little corner, is it not?"
the yonng man said almost as if answer
ing that unspoken question. "That is why
it suits me so well; I can get on with my
books without interruption. The street is
so small that it isn't worth an organ
grinder's while to waste time in it"
"Music is a sad thing for interrupting
study; I know that," the old gentleman ob
served. "By the way, I hope we do not
disturb you my granddaughter plays the
violin sometimes"
"I could listen to that kind of music all
day long, was the response. "I never
heard such violin playing most beautiful!
most beautifull"
"Then you are not far away from ua?"
"Bight opposite," was the straightforward
answer.
George Bethune glanced at the young
man with a look of quiet amusement; be
was thinking of the pale music-mistress
the solitary widow of his imagination.
"And you you also play a little in the
evenings sometimes?"
"I hope you don't think it rude, sir, the
young man said, humbly. "I thought it
permissable, as between neighbors."
"Ob, they were pretty little concerts,"
said George Bethune, good-naturedfy
"very pretty little concerts. I don't know
why they were stopped. I suppose Maisrie
bad some fancy about them my grand
daughter Maisrie"
It was a kind of introduction. The young
man, modestly veiling the quick flash'of de
light in his eyes at this unexpected happi
ness, respectfully bowed. Maisrie, with her
beautiful pale face suffused with unusual
color, made some brief inclination also; then
she seemed to retire again from this conver
sation though she could not but over
hear. "My name is Harris," the young man
said, as though these confidences were all as
a matter of course between neighbors. "It
isn't a very distinguished name, but one has
to take what is given one. It is not of much
consequence."
"I am not so sure about that," the older
man rejoined somewhat sententiously, "A
good name is a good thing; it is an honor
not to be purchased. It maybe the only
one of your possessions remaining to you;
but of that they cannot rob you."
"Oh, of course, of course," Vin Harris
said quickly, for he perceived the mistake
he had made. "An old historic name is
certainly something to be proud of. By the
way, sir, did your fauiily originally take
their name from Bethou on the Sarthe or
from Bethune in the Department of Calais?"
"Bethune Bethune," said the old man,
who appeared to be pleased by this question,
which spoke of previous inquiries; and then
he added, with a loity air: "The Dae de
Bully. Marquis deBosny. Sovereign Prince
of Enricheuiont andJBois-bel, Grand Master
of the Artillery and Marshal of France,
was Maximtlien de Bethune Maximilien
de Bethuue."
"Oh, really," said the young man, who
seemed so much impressed.
"The name," continued old George
Bethune, in the same oracular vein, "was
often spelt Beaton and Beton especially in
Scotland as everybody knows. Whether
James, Archbishop of Glasgow, and his
nephew David, Archbishop ot St Andrews,
had any immediate relationship with France
beyond tha't David was consecrated
Bishop of Mirepoix when he was negotiat
ing the marriage of James V. at the French
Court I cannot at the moment precisely
say; but of this there can be no doubt, that
from Bethune in the North came the origin
al territorial designation of tbe family, not
from Bethon in the West Maximilien de
Bethune Bethune in the Department of the
Straits of Calais."
"Oh, really," the young man said again,
quite humbly.
Now by this time it had become manilest
that there was to be no thunderstorm at all.
There had been a few more of those, quiver
ing strokes of yellow fire (that dwelt longer
on the retina than in the clonds) accom
panied by some distant mutterings and rum
blings, and at one point it seemed as if the
dreadful shower were coming on; but all
passed off gradually and quietly; the sky
aiuwiy unguicueu; a paie snnsnine Degan
here and there to touch the greensward and
the shivering elms. This young man had
no exense for remaining here; but he seemed
to forget; he was so busy talking and talk
ing in a very pleased and half-excited lash
ion, with an occasional glance across at the
young lady.
"Grandfather," said Maisrie Bethune,
presently, handing hini the umbrella as a
sort of hint
But even when Vin Harris received his
property back he appeared to take no heed.
He had observed that the newspaper lying
on the old man's knee was the Toronto
Globe; he drew attention to the circum
stance; and now all his talk was of Qneen's
Park, Lake Ontario, of King street, Queen
street, Church street, of the Exhibition
grounds, ot Park Island, and Block House
bay and the Koyal Canadian Yacht Club.
So he had been there, too? Oh, yes, he had
been all over Canada and America. He
was as familiar with Idaho as with Brook
lyn. He had fished in the Adirondacks
and shot mountain sheep in the Bockies.
"You have been to Omaha, then?" the old
man asked.
"Oh. yes, of course."
"For my granddaughter here," he con
tinued, "is an Omaha girl."
"Oh, indeed," said Vin Harris, rather
breathlessly, and again ho ventured to look
across to Maisrie,Bethunc and her downcast
tyes.
PITTSBURG ,DISPATOH,
"Yes, but only by the accident of birth "
said George Bethune, instantly, as if he
must need guard against .any misapprehen
sion. "Every drop of blood in her veins Is
Scotch and of a Tight good quality too.
Well, you have heard you have heard. Do
vou think any one could understand thr
old Scotch airs who was not herself Scotch
in heart and souir .
"I never heard anything so beautiful,"
the young man answered, in an undertone;
indeed, he seemed hardly capable of talking
about her, any more than he could fix his
eyes steadily on her face.- His forced glances
were timorous and fugitive. There was
something sacred that kept him at a dis
tance. It was enough to bo conscious that
she was there; his only prayer was that she
shonld remain; that he and she should be
together, if a little way apart, looking at the
same skies and water and trees, breathing
the same air, hearkening to the same sounds.
So he kept on talking to the old man, in
rather a nervous and eager fashion, fearful
all the time that either of them should pro
pose to go.
And thus itcame about that young Harris
seemed to have a good deal to say for him
self; he appeared to forget that he was
speaking to two strangers; rather, he was
chatting with two neighbors whom he
wished to be his friends. And the old man,
in his self-sufficient and dignified way, was
quite content to encourage this ne'w ac
quaintance, nis conversation was some
thing to pass the time withal; he was
modest, well-inannerefl, intelligent; there
was an air of distinction about him that
showed good up-bringing as well as some
f decision of character. No doubt he was of
a wealthy family, or he could not have spent
so much of his time in travel; by accident
he had mentioned one or two well-known
people as though he were iu the habit of
familiarly meeting with them; from some
passing hint as to the nature of his studies
Mr. Bethune gathered that this pleasant
spoken, pleasant-smiling neighbor was
destined for a public career. There was
even something interesting, in one who had
grown old and callous of the world's shows,
in noting the bright enthusiasm of the
young man, the clear light in his eye. the
general air of strength and ease and cour
age that sate lightly on him, as befitting
one who was in the very May-morn of his
youth.
But at last, for shame's sake, Vincent
Harris had himself to rise and break up this
all too attractive companionship. He said,
with great humility:
"But I am sure I ought to apologise to
Miss Bethune for having taken up so much
of your time. Bather an unwarrantable in
trusion; but I don't think there is any
chance of the rain coming now aud and
so I will say good-bye."
"Good-bye glad to have made your ac
quaintance," said old George Bethune, with
a crave courtesy.
And Maisrie made him a little bow Cor
he was locking at her rather supplicatingly
as he raised his hat and withdrew. Their
eyes had met once more: she could not well
have avoided that And of course she saw
him as he walked away southward, across
the bridge, until he disappeared.
"A very agreeable young man, that,"
said Mr. Bethune, with decision, as he rose
to his feet and intimated to his grand
daughter that they had better set forth
again. "Frank in manner, gentle, cour
teous, intelligent, too very different from
most of the young men of the day."
His, granddaughter was silent as she
walked by his side.
"What don't vou think so. Maisrie?" he
said, with a touch of impatience, for he was
used to her assent
"I think," she answered, a little proudly,
'that he showed a good deal of confidence
in coming to speak to you without knowing
you; and as for his playing those airs in the
evening, ?nd in Buch a way well, I don't
like to use the word impertinence but
still "
He was surprised; perhaps a trifle vexed.
"Impertinence. Nonsense! Nonsense!
Frankness and neighborliness that was all;
no intrusion, none; a more modest young
man I have never met And as for his com
ing ud to speak to me, why, bless my life,
that merely shows the humanizing effects of
travel. It is like people meeting at a table
d' hote; and what is the world but a big
table d' hote, where you speak with your
neighbor lor a little while, and go your way.
and lorget him? Confidence? impertinence?
nonsensel He was natural, unaffected,
outspoken, as a young man should be; in
fact, I found myself on snch friendly terms
with him that I forgot to thank him lor
the little service he did us did you, I
should say. Bashfulness, Maisrie," he con
tinned, in his more sententious manner,
"bashiuiness and stiffness are among the
worst characteristics of the untraveled and
untaught Who are we whatever may be
our lineage and pride of birth that we
should ieuce ourselves round with a palisade
of suspicion or disdain?"
And thus he went on: but he met with no
response. Aud he did not like it; he grew
all the more emphatic about this young
man; and even hinted that women were
curiously perverse creatures, who evinced
no toleration, or sympathy, or good nature
in their judgment ot their fellow beings.
What was her objection? To his appear
ance? he was remarkably gook-Iooking,
and refined in aspect, without a trace of
effeminacy. To his manner? he was almost
hnmole in his anxiety to please. To his
talk? but he had shown himself most
bright good-humored, alert aud well-informed.
"He had no right to come up and speak
to you, grandfather," was all she would say,
aud that with a quite unusual firmness.
In the evening, after dinner, when the
time came at which Maisrie was accustomed
to take up her violin, there was obviously a
little embarrassment But George Bethune
tried to break through that by a forced dis
play of genialitv.
"Come, now, Maisrie," said he, in a gay
fashion, "our neighbor oyer the way was
straightforward enough to come up and offer
us his band; and we must return the com
pliment One good turn deserves another.
Get your violin and play something; he will
understand."
"Grand ather, how can you ask me?" she
said, almost indignantly; and there was that
in the tone of her voice that forbade him to
press her further.
But perhaps the universal stillness that
prevailed thereafter conveyed some kind of
reproach to her; or perhaps her heart
soltened a little; at all events she presently
said, in rather a low voice and with a diffi
dent manner :
"Grandfather, if you if you really think
the young gentleman wished to be kind and
obliging and and if you would like to
show him some little politeness in return
couldn't you step across the way and
and see him, and talk to him for a few
minutes? Perhaps he would be glad of
that, if he is quite alone."
"A capital idea, Maisrie," the old man
said, rising at once. "A capital idea."
And then he added, with an airof lofty
complacency and condescension, as he
selected a couple of volumes from a heap of
books on the sideboard: "Perhaps I might
as well take over the Memoires' with me;
it is not at all unlikely he may wish to know
something further about Maximilien de
Bethune. I am not surprised not ai all
surprised that ayoung man called Harris
should perceive jtbat there is something in
the grandeur of an old historical name."
f To be Continued 2fext Sunday.
PEOOBESS IN EXPLOSIVES.
Gunpowder Will Ere Lone be Known Only
ns OccnrrlpK In HIstorr.
Prof. Dewar concluded his lectures at the
Eoyal Institution, London, as follows:
For five centuries gunpowder was the
only explosive known, but since 18i6 when
gun-cotton was invented a great number
had been introduced, and by some of them
gunpowder had been entirely superseded for
many purposes. The demands of the miner
and engineer for a good blasting agent have
done more han war to improve explosives.
Nitro-glycerlne, dynamite, Abel's powder,
Sprengel's powder, blasting gelatine, coca
powder, amide powder and smokeless balln
tile were some of the numerous explosives
now in use. Picric acid, first used as a dye,
was theorigin of Sprengel's powder. Soon we
shall know gunpowder only as spoken of in
history.
SUNDAY, " JULY 20,
A FOKTME IN A DOG.
It is
a Hand-Painted Skye-Terrier
Well Trained to Deceive.
METHODS OP A VENERABLE FRAUD
And the Sad Results of His Operations
Upon Howard Fielding1.
NEW TOEFS CLETEK BBACE GAME
rWEITTEN TOE THE DISPATCH.! ,
A venerable man, with a large philosoph
ical smile, stands in frontof one of the prin
cipal hotels in New York every day selling
dog. He has sold dog for the last ten years,
and is said to be well off.
In the earlier stages of his career, before
he had reduced the subject to a science, he
used to sell dogs; bnt he has now discovered
that one is enonghfor any intelligent fakir's
,stock in trade. Years ago he used to have
three or four pretty little puppies in his
arms .when he stood forth to ask for trade.
They were much prettier than the mere
product of nature, because the man is an
artist as well as a fancier, and can paint the
meanest mongrel cur that ever walked on
four dissimilar legs until he looks like the
descendant of a hundred prize-winners. His
customers then, as now, were mostly women
upon whose impressionable natures the
beauties of the puppies never failed to work.
SOLD FOUR TO ONE -WOMAN.
Now the Deculiarity of the little dogs was
that they never lived more than 24 hours in
their new homes. They were usually pur
chased in the "shopping" hours of the early
afternoon and expired about 10 o'clock the
next day. When a fair purchaser found
herself thus bereft, she always went to find
the man from whom she obtained the dog.
And he was always at his accustomed place.
He would listen to her storv with tears in
his eyes, and when it was finished he would
wipe them away with the back of his hand
and murmur: "Poor little Fido; how I
loved him!"
Then he would sell the womau another
little dog exactly like Fido so precisely
similar, in fact, that he never failed to ex
pire at the same hour by the clock. I learn
that be sometimes sold as many as four dogs
to the same woman on four successive days.
Of course they were all "doped" poisoned,
in other words but the women never sus
pected it The feminine mind somehow
lails to grasp the nice details of successful
business.
ONE DOG A GREAT PLENTY.
But the dog merchant whose name is Per
kins (from Nutmeg, Conn.), has got beyond
all that now. He has only one dog. From his
hide outward, this animal is one of those
queer, shaggy skye-terriers with a blue line
traced down his spinal column. I am told
that the blue line on Mr. Perkins' terrier
will not stand wet weather and that he is a
S&
Sfe
We Hurried Down Broadway.
bleached blonde, part of whose hair is fast
ened on with glue.
This man Perkins is no myth. It wonld
be impossible for one so honest and truthful
as lam to invent such a character as his.
He is an institution of the town as real as
Trinity Chnrcb, though he is dedicated to
the service of the other party. Perkins has
the alleged skye-terrier fastened to the end
of a string. If Mrs. Fielding had not
taken the bait that is, the dog one day I
might never have understood Perkins.
WE BOUGHT THE TEKRIER.
"I hate to part with him," said Perkins,
when Maude ventured to inquire if tho dog
was for sale, "but I will do it for $15."
Then Maude looked at me. kWe bought
the ttrrier.
"Take him home, Howdy," said Maude,
"and if he is hungry, you will find some
strawberry shortcake in the icebox."
I could not immediately take the dog
home, for I had several appointments to
keep down town. I grasped the string
which had the dog on it and allowed him
to lead me down Broadway. He started
right along just as if he had 'business, and
I followed as best I could.
It is bad luck, you know, for two who
walk together to pass on opposite sides of
an object, especially if one of the two is a
dog on the end of a string and the object is
a man in a hurry. The skye-terrier and I
had bad luck of this kind several times, and
most of the pedestrians expressed a fervid
interest in our eternal future, though I trust
that their recommendations as to the locality
will be mercifully disregarded, for it was
not my fault. The terrier can go there if he
wants to; it would be cruel to separate him
and Perkins.
ACTED AS IF STAEK MAD.
The conduct of the terrier became stead
ily worse. He ceased to confine his activity
to his legs, and began to use bis lungs in
the production of such howls as confirmed
my growing belief that his lineage was not
what it had been represented. Finally I
got him to the building where one of my
friends whom I wished to see had an office
and by much persuasion I urged him to go
into the elevator, where he ran back and
forth between the feet of the man who had
We Decided to Shoot the Terri-r.
charge of the car in men a way that it took
us ten minutes to untie him when we
reached the right floor. When the pup and
1 broke into the office of my friend there
was a panic. The terrier here abandoned all
attempts at self-control. Indeed, his aban
don and verve and diablerie and other
French methods of misconduct became so
alarming that I sought reluge in the high
est thing that I could find under the ceil
ing, while mv friend crawled under his
desk and yelled: "Take him nway!"
"Take him away yourself," said I, "I'll
give him to yon."
couldn't shoot him. ,
Then we debated the subject while the
r Mi
'ii u.
A !hi ?"
'M.WJ-z'v '
AI IV I II .V
Mi JBe-, v aKMSA ir
1890.
am
terrier climbed on top of the desk andt
howled. We decided that he was mad and
ought to be .shot My friend is an artist,
and be keeps in his office a bell-muzzled
blnnderbuss for his wife's mother when she
calls. Well, my friend reached out from,
under the desk, grabbed the old bell
muzzle and tried five times to shoot the dog
before he remembered that the gun wasn't
loaded.
Pretty soon tbe dog jumped off the desk
and made a break for the door. Being on
tbe other end of the string I followed. He
went down the stairs easier than I did at
fitst, till I stubbed my toe, and then we de
scended with equal facility. He led me
down Cortland street toward the ferry, and
thus suggested to me the brilliant idea of
taking him over to our relatives in New
Jersey, that he might enjoy the benefit of
country air.
We boarded the boat by the entrance
usually devoted to teams, and we were in
too much of a hurry to give up a ticket. A
rumor that the dog was mad spread quickly,
and we created a sensation which appeared
to appease him wonderfully. He was a dog
who could not stand it to be overlooked;
he wanted everybody to understand that he
was on hand and attending to business.
AN ACCOMPLICE TO THE BESCUE.
Among, the passengers who did not
jump overboard or otherwise remove
vuemselves from the danger of hydro-
phobia was a young man who leaned
quietly against a stanchion and polluted
the atmosDhere with a large cigar.
"I say boss," he remarked, "you don't
seem to understand a dog very well."
Disentangling my leg very slowly from
the string I replied that I had not had
much experience with that kind, aud I in
quired whether he considered himself au ex
pert on canine insanity.
"I'll take the purp oflfn your ban's fer
free dollars, see?" said he.
"Well, you can't do it too soon," I said,
and handed over the money and the
strings. '
Now, would yon believe it, that dog
calmed down in one second, and walked off
the boat with the young man as gently as
Mary's little lamb. I could not forbear
turning to a man who stood near by and re
marking upon the strangeness of the occur
rence.
"Young man, you've been taken in," said
he; "that's a trained dog, educated to act
like a lunatic when away from his master,
and the fellow who took him awaystands in
with the man who sold him. Every time
the old duffer sells tbe dog the young one
follows bim ut and steals him back again.
Nobody ever kicks; they're too glad to get
rid of the dog."
Take it for all in all, I think this is one
of the most remarkable games played by
anybody outside of Wall street
Howaed Fielding.
F0EMIKO BY ELECTBICTrf.
Experiments Showing tbe Beneficial Effect
of the Fluid on Plant.
Illustrated American.
The application of electricity to agricult
ure has long been discussed. Mr. N.
Bpecnew has described the latest experi
ments iu Practical Electricity. In one
series be used seeds of haricot beans, sun
flowers.and winterand spring rye. The seeds
were soaked, electrified and immediately
sown. The plants were more developed,
their leaves were larger and their color
brighter than those grown from non-electrified
seed, but their yield was not affected.
In another series of experiments, plates
of copper and zinc about two feet by two
feet six inches were buried at the ends of
the plots and connected by their upper
faces, the effect being to establish a current
through the earth. The result was manifested
by a larger crop aud by the growth of veg
tables of enormous dimensions.
In the third series, electrical collectors
were mounted on insulated rods, and con
nected by wires, the effect being to obtain a
highly electrified atmosphere. Seeds of rye,
corn,)ats, barley, peas, clover, potatoes,
and flax were used. The lorni of electro
culture increased tbe yield of seed an aver
age of one-half, and that of straw one-third,
while the ripening was more rapid. It was
also found that potatoes grown by electro
culture were rarely diseased, and that tbe
beneficial effects of electricity on vines at
tacked by phylloxera have already been
observed it is possible that a new means is
at hand of combating the microscopic pests
which attack vegetable growth.
A CITY OK STILTS.
Over a Hundred Honsea In a Salt Water Bay
of Old Virginia.
Away over in the extreme northeast cor
ner of the State of Virginia is the most curi
ous city ever seen. That entire cor
ner of the State has for time out of mind
been owned by the Franklin family. The
land was absolutely of nouse,but that part of
the estate under water was good for oysters,
tbe flavor of which made them famous.
For nearly 50 years everyone and anyone,
who wanted to, helped themselves to the bi
valves. It was not, in fact, until after the
death of the original owner that any effort
was made to mate any money out of the only
product of the property. From that time on
the boom in Franklin City was on, until to
day there are a hundred odd houses. Every
house stands on piles, and is from three to
four feet above the surface ot the ground.
The best and most pretentious structure of
tbe city is a. huge frame hotel, at which the
rates are 7 cents a day, with a liberal reduc
tion fur permanent boarders and families.
One of the most curious things are the
wells. Most of these were covered with water
at all times, and there is not one of them
that at some time during the day is not
surrounded by water. It seems quite
strange to be drawing pure, fresh spring
water from the bottom of the salt water bay.
POWDEE HARES IS SUICIDE.
Recent Observations Sliow Tbnt They Are
Not Neccssnrv Accompaniments.
Illustrated American.!
'it Is now beginning to be admitted gener
ally that a wound inflicted with a modern
fire-arm may be accompanied by neither
scorching nor powder tattooing, though the
weapon may be held very close, -if the bul
let be driven by one of the modern fulmi
nates contained in the same cap with the
projectile. This lack of marks, formerly
held to be unfailing, has' given rise some
times to theories of murder.
A case in point is reported from India.
A Hindoo went down into the sandy bed of
a river and shot himself through the head
with a revolver of 45 caliber, making a
wound about the edges of whicn there was
not the slightest blackening or scorching.
That he'eommitted suicide there is no doubt,
as the saady ground showed no traces of
other footsteps than his and as he left a note
saying that he intended to kill himself.
Abnalnc Our Travelers.
Punch.
Sir James: "And were you in Home?"
American lady: "1 guess not (To her
daughter). Say, Bella, did we visit
Eome?"
Fair daughter.' "Why, ma, cert'nlyl
Don't you remember? It was in Borne we
bought the Lisle-thread Blockings."
i American lady is convinced.
The Terrier Creates a Sensation.
THE BATH IN TURKEY.
Mary J. Holmes Describes the Luxury
as Seen at Its' Best.
A RETREAT FOR ROYAL LADIES
Where They Enjoy Themselves and Make
Their Political Deals.
MYSTERIES OP THE TUEKISH TOILET
1COBBXSFONSXXCX Or TUX DISPATCH.1
Constantinople, July 6. The Turk
ish bath here is far from being the Turkish
.bath in far-awav America. Every Turkish
house, in tbe best society here, has its pri
vatc bath, that is used on certain days and
hours by women of the family and on other
days by the men. Others again have two
sets of baths, one for the women and the
other for the men. These baths are heated
with hot air, which comes from a large fur
nace situated at quite a distance from tbe
house and fed by wood and charcoal. The
heat is carried in such o, way as not to make
a moist atmosphere, and the air in the differ
ent rooms is hot but dry, which is not so un
pleasant and suffocating as the so-called
Turkish baths in America. The three rooms
being passed, tbe ladies go into the last,
where there is a fountain ot perfumed water
and where the last part of the cleansing
takes place.
The baths' in the palace'at Dolme-Bakt-chie,
on the Bosphorus, are very beautiful,
but it would require a volume to describe
them, for the luxury of a Turkish house is
centered in the bath, where the people seem
most to enjoy themselves. Jnst outside tbe
limits of Constantinople, up in tbe Golden
Horn, is Aga-Hammann, a bath frequented
by many ladiei of the highest position, not
because they have no baths of their own,
but because they are sure to meet their
friends there without restriction and have a
good time. It has always been a great place
for mothers to take tbeir marriageable
daughters, and other mothers to go to choose
a bride for their sons, for wives are not
chosen for their mental but physical beau
ties alone.
PLUMP BEAUTIES IN THE BATH.
The ladies arrive, each one attended by
her own -personal servant, and another who
bears a very substantial lunch basket and a
handsome gold bordered bathing wrap.
The eunuchs remain outside or go away,
and come back at tbe hour the bath is ended,
as it occupies several hours. First,the ladies
are divested of their clothing and receive a
crepe sheet, which thev drape abont them
while they sit the regulation time in the
first room. During this time they chat
with each other, though not very familiarly,
and they keep up the pretense of the drap
ery until they reach and pass the next room.
Here they stretch themselves out upon the
marble slabs, while two attendants rub,
lather and pour hot water over them until
it,seems as if they would be boiled.
.bach ladjrMs laid upon a marble slab,
which is slightly inclined, and the attend
ants begin their labors, one at the feet and
the other at the bead. They use a sort of
clay called pilo, which raises'a thiefe white
lather. The attendants use nothing but this
so3py clay and their hands to cleanse
their subject, and rub and knead
and punch until it seems they
would reduce the flesh to a pulp, all the
while leaving this lather to accumulate un
til the bather looks like a snowball. An
other kind of soap is used for the hair and
another again for the face, but the latter is
always left to gather thick as the worker
rubs and toils, the perspiration rolling in
streams down her own glistening body.
Sometimes these attendants are white, some
times black, and some of tbe ladies of the
harem are as blacK as any negro In our own
country, as it is quite a common thing for
a man to make a wife of his Abyssinian
slave. These inky ladies wear tbe Turkish
veil as religiously as do the white wives,
and indeed tbe color line is not drawn close
ly at all in tbe Orient
IN BAYS OP COLORED LIGHT.
This Turkish bath is lighted from the
roof and through stained glass, and the
colored light falls upon the forms laid -out
beneath with beautiful effect. Alarge
fountain with a ''deep basin stands in the
middle of this room, and numberless little
pipes throw off sprays of perfumed water
above the slabs on which the ladies lay like
animated snowflakes, kicking and squealing
when soap gets in their eyes or months, or
when the attendants tickle them unexpect
edly. A little silver basin stands at hand,
and after the ladies have been soaked in
soap lone enough, the attendants take quite
hot water entirely too hot for anybody but
a Turkish woman, who is used to it and
pour it gently over them, not dashing it,
bnt sottly empty irfg it, so that it soon washes
off all the lather, leaving the flesh rosy and
fresh. This pouring of water is continued
sometimes half an hour, together with rub
bing, rolling and kneading of the body,
after which tbe lady is at liberty to plunge
into the basin, if she wishes, among the
other langbing and frolicking women, blacfe
and white mingling indiscriminately.
Words cannot depict the utter abandon
ment to fnn and sport that takes possession
of these women and children, too, for alter
a girl is 9 years old she is admittedjto wom
en's society unrestrainedly. The young
girls are all plumper than our young'girls,
and they bave iu tbe main fine figures,
thongh the knees are always big and prom
inent, which is probably cansed by the habit
of sitting cross-legged as tbey do. Their
skin is very white and pure in spite of their
unwholesome diet and indolent habits.
When they have sported abont in the basin
to their heart's content the servants bring iu
tbeir lunch baskets and the women eat,
after which they return to the water again
and splash about th'ere for a short time
longer. Then they proceed to tbeir dressing
rooms, the bathing gowu now for the first
time being produced.
THE PROFESSIONAL BEAUTIFIEBS.
Then tbey go and seat themselves on
stools after a short lounge on a divan and a
cigarette or so and coffee, and the profes
sional beautifier takes charge of them.
First, the hair is thoroughly dried and
picked out free from tangles, and smoothed
with the hands only until it is soft and
glossy as silk. Then it is braided in two
long tresses, though some affect other styles
of dressing it. The hair is most always
banged in scallops. The hair dresser passes
to another and the tooth polisher comes, and
with a brush and charcoal powder makes
tbe teeth glisten, and these women are
quite expert dentists, pulling bad teeth and
niling those possible to save.
After her comes the painter with her lit
tle box. She begins by first bathing face
and neck and arms with balm of Gilead,
which makes the skin appear like marble,
and emits a delicious, resinv fragrance, and
also preserves the skin from iniprv bv the
paints applied later. Then, t eyebrows
and eyelashes are dyed with kohol, which
makes them a glossy, brownish black, and
enhances greatly the beauty of their eyes,
and makes them look larger and more ex
pressive. After this a kind of a pigment
made of zinc is laid on thickly and modu
lated with a solt cloth, and then the cheeks
are painted a vivid crimson and the lips as
red as paint can make them. The bands
are bathed in balm of Gilead, and the nails
are trimmed and dyed a brownish red. The
feet receive the same treatment with the
addition ot the service of a pedicure, for
loose as these women wear their shoes, they
have corns, bunions and very severe chil
blains. DRESSING FOR THE STREET.
When this is done they are ready to be
dressed for the street. The first garment is
a Bronssa crepe undershirt with long, loose
sleeves, Y-shaped at the necE. Then 'the
pantaloons are pnt out. Tbese are made
long enough to fasten to the knees and still
fall to the ankle and over the feet add wide
enough to appear almost like a skirt These
troussrs Ore made of large and gaudily pat-
erned chintz, or silt or the brightest colors'
in foulard, or brilliant-tinted satin. It re
quires four breadths of satin for each pair
pantaloons. Above the pantaloons is a sort
of skirt of four breadths of cloth, satin silk
or gay-colored chintz, though this is usu
ally plain. These breadths .are one yard
and a half to two yards long, and are not
sewn at all in front, and only a short dis
tance down tbe hips and in the back. The
rest is left loose to train behind. Thayare
tucked up under the girdle while in the
street
The sash or girdle is usually a shawl
wrapped around the waist three or four
times, and one end only is left to hang
down. The Turkish women do not wear
corsets, or any kindred applianci-s, to com
press the waist Tho next garment is a
jacket coming just to the waist line and but
toning in front with three gold or jeweled
buttons. The sleeves are snug and reach to
the elbow only, below which the crepe
sleevesfall full and loose. The front of this
jacket is cut out Pompadour style, and very
low. On the breast are strung numbers of
pearls, coral, wooden and glass beads and
diamond and emerald or other jeweled neck
laces, and all is headed by a black velvet
ribbon, on which are sewn gold coins and
pendants. Immense earrings are worn, and
bracelets four and five inches wide, as well
as numbers of nn?s. Some wear real di.x.
monds and some of tbe most palpable pinch
beck, for it does not matter, what an orna
ment is so it strikes the wear
er's fancy,and tbese women are capable any
hour of trading off a diamond necklace for
a tawdry, cheap affair, if only showy
enough.
THE MAGIC VEIL.
After all these jewels are in their places
the preparations for the street is made by
putting upon the head a sort of head dres3
made in the form of a Scocth cap, of card
board covered with brilliant satin, green,
red and yellow, and on this are pinned arti
ficial flowers, all of the brightest primary
colors, and pendant jewelsand coins.
Over this is worn the yaskmak or veil,
which is the crowning beauty of Turkish
women, without which they would be but
ordinary mortals.
This veil is made of two squares of crepe
liese, sheer and fine. Each is folded on the
bias and one piece is thrown over the top of
the head, the bias fold being brought down
just to the eyebrows, and pinned fast to the
back of thehead. The other is placed over tbe
lower part of the face, the fold being brought
up close to the eyes and the .points being
carried- up to the top of the b-ick of the
nead ana listened there, the ends hanging
loosely.
The face, seen through these misty folds,
takes a softness oEssputline and delicate
beauty impossible tolescnbe, and the dark
eyes, with their blackened lashes show in a
striking contrast to "the snowy folds of
yashmak, while the vivid coloring that has
been laid on so lavishly shows bnt faintly
through the veil, and seen so with all the
expression a Turkish woman learns to
throw into her eyes, from lack of any other
mode, it is not wonderlul that they have al
ways been considered so beautiiul by
strangers. In very truth, thev are no hand
somer than any other contented, well-fed,
careful woman, and as to their form well,
fat is their ideal.
OUT ON THE STREET.
After the adjuting of the yashmak they
only need tbeir ferijes, or long, loose, shape
less, big sleeved raps, which are usually
of black, though frequently of pink, green j
or blue satin.anda parasol as gay.and white I
gloves wore witn the rings outside to com- 1
plete their outdoor costume. For their feet '
they wear socks and congress gaiters, or go
barelegged with slipshod slippers, which
do very well in the house, but are very awk
ward in the street .In the house thev mova
very gracefully, but in the street and seen
from the back there is nothing that can be
more awkward than a Turkish woman, and
as to form, she resembles a huge black bug
with a white head.
After the ladies are dressed they sit and
chat and smoce and eat sweets until the
eunuch comes for each party. During these
baths, while different harems and different
women are brought together, many weightier
questions are decided than could be believed
Eossible in such child-like creatures, for
ere meet those who wish to place their sons
or husbands in office, and they manage to
mate and, break promises just like other
politicians. The Turkish bath of America
can never compete with the Aga Hammam
of the Golden Horn forpolitical importance,
nor as a place of social meeting nor amuse
ment Mary J. Holmes.
RTTWTIWRrTRTm THETE MASTEB.
An Incident Showing- ibp Power or Martin
tbe Lion Tamer.
When the celebrated animal trainer
Martin, who died lately, had retired to pri
vate life, one day he took a notion that he
would visit his former large menagerie,
which he had not seen for five years. It
was in Brussels, and he started for that city
from his country seat near Botterdam. At 4
o'clock, the time for feeding, he entered the
menagerie. He mingled with the crowd and
waited until the animals would receive their
food, for which they were waiting with wild
impatience.
While they were eating he began to cough.
Suddenly the animals paused in their treat
and listened, then broke into wild howls of
joy and tore at the iron bars, so that many
ot tne timia visitors ilea lrom toe men
agerie. '
Then Martin stepped forward. With a
movement of his hand and with bis power
ful voice he commanded silence, and sud
denly everything was quiet He swung
himself over the bars which separated tbe
visitors lrom the animals and put his hand
into the cages to fondle the animals. A
mighty tigress showed more joy than any
of the others. When Martin's band glided
over her magnificent fnr her limbs trembled
nervously, she uttered weak, tender grunts,
and through the iron bars with her rough
tongue, she licked the face of her former
master. When he went away she lay down
without eating any more food.
7I0BXDA AIXIGATOBS SCARCE.
A Dealer Find the Mrxlcan Supply Pays
Him Mncb tho Retier.
Mr. Joseph Smith has Brought a cargo of
alligators from Mexico to New York. Mr.
Smith was asked why he went to Mexico to
hunt alligators, and replied: "Alligators
are playing out in Florida. In fact, they
are becoming scarcer in all parts of the
United States in consequence of their skins
being in such demand that many persons
have engaged in alligator hunting as a
means of making meney. The alligators
have never been hunted by the Mexicans,
but 1 soon had tbeni at it At first I shot
them, but a Mexican conceived the idea of
harpooning them, and carried it out so
successfully that we followed that method
afterward. I was down there 18 months,
and during that time I secured hides to the
amount of $50,000.
"It is quite exciting to take a sportsman's
lamp, fasten it on your head on adark night
and quietly sneak along the river bank.and
finding one of tbese monsters lying at the
water's edge,harpoon him. It takes a steadv
hand and quick eye to strike the'u rightand
a strong arm to hold him after he is har
pooned." A SIXTH SEKSE.
Deaf People Develop tho Faculty ofFeellnl
the Sound Waves.
A species of sixth sense has been observed
in some deaf people that of the apprecia
tion of vibration. In one case described, a
woman who was so deaf that she could hear
slightly with only one ear was able to per
ceive a light blow on a table, or a footstep.
She described the effect by saying, not that
she could hear the blow, but that she could
feel it Iu another case of a woman who was
entirely deaf, her attention could be arrested
instantly by a slight blow on the floor or
a table, so slight that bystanders' would not
notice it This faculty is explained by the
efforts of nature to supply a compensation
for lost faculty.
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