KlIfiMESSCnWplTCMVVBffjwSJSgMlVM J-JB5W535ii
-r-f9ys jKvgvgfBqpsrperjv-i" ,T?
" V, rT(i1MWJf7-J
v 5'
S
I
Mr-,
V GMtiOmZ
THE STORY OF THE DOCTOR AND THE DETECTIVE.
WBITTEN FOB
IDJEt. PHILIP "WOOLF,
Author of "Who i3 Guilty?"
Concluded.
,T1HAPTER X.
DETECTIVE ENDS HIS If ABBATITE.
I followed him, unmoved by his sneers;
&" lie had been caught at last, and I could un-
7 derstand bis irritation. He put on a heavy
', -, overcoat and a broad-brimmed felt hat, and
':$ then descended the stairs, I following. It
fN was a cold autumn night, inclined to rain,
and a fierce wind was blowing. In the
' open air the dootor pulled the collar of his
overcoat about his ears, and stopped just
outside his own door to stare out over the
ocean. The action recalled to me the pen-
, sive little face that had peered out from
fc under an umbrella on that very day, staring
also oceanwards. I had made a good haul
of human fishes in a short time!
"I am waiting, doctor," I said, impatient
at the delay.
The ocean has been waiting longer; but
in good time everything crumbles away
and is swallowed up the little Lecoqs and
the Goliaths of wisdom with equal impar
tiality. It is amusing; and I am ready."
"We trotted 08 at a brisk pace; and, to
lave time, I plied the doctor with questions.
"You did not expect that Mrs. Glaye would
be killed, eh?"
"I did not expect that you would try and
make your prisoner compromise himself,"
he said, dryly. "When I have made np my
mind to speak, my friend, I will speak;
until I do, exercise your gigantic ingenuity
in guessing my thanghts."
"If you are innocent, why do you refuse
to help me?"
'If you think me innocent, why are you
holding on to my arm to keep me from fly
ing awav from you?"
"It is my duty."
"It is my duty," he repeated dryly. "I
do not suppose, my friend, that you are
capable ot appreciating the act; but just
now I am thinking more of another than of
myself. If this other will be benefited by
my words. I will speak: if she will be
harmed, I will be silent. And more, if
Lecoq Fox stands in her way, Lecoq lox
j will be removed I"
"Your bravado is out of place, doctor.
Mrs. Glaye was murdered"
"A rigid Lecoq wonld have said no more
than that Mrs. Glaye is dead."
, "You believe she died from disease?" I
asked, as soberly as I could.
"The Coroner, when he makes the investi
gation, will discover that she died from
poison, and I believe I could even mention
its'name!"
"ihave not the slightest donbt of it!" I
retorted. "It's a pity, though, that yon
will not enjoy the fortune you inherit, even
though you have placed a rope around the
little maiden's' neck."
"She will live, my friend, and be happy,
or what she calls happy. The murderers
whom you are seeking will be discovered,
v and when discovered you will enjoy a hearty
surprise, even if you are dismissed from
your position for incompetency."
"When you have cleared yourself, it is
time enough to speak."
, "Good. I will be silent till then!"
From that moment he refused to answer
any of my questions. It was my idea that
ne oaa not expected tbat tbe crime would
have been discovered so soon, nor would it
have been except for my appointment to
meet the dead woman. It would not other
wise have been found out before morning,
and, in the meantime, the worthy doctor
an3 his "little maiden" had the entire night
before them in which to vanish from sight.
Beaching the hotel I found that rnmors of
the tragedy had leaked out, and there was
consequently a great excitement and a con
tinual trotting about of the curious, who
were anxious to obtain a peep into the fatal
room. Holding the doctor by the arm I
brushed by them, and ascended to the room
of lone Grande, as I was anxious to see the
first meeting between her and her friend.
Policeman Blind was standing guard out
side the partially opeu door, l'eeping in I
, saw the "little maiden" sitting disconso-
lately in a chair, the picture of hopelessness
and misery. At the sight of the doctor her
' face brightened, and she rushed eagerly
toward him as if for protection. He placed
his hairy hand on her head, in a fatherly
way.
, "I also am a victim of the great Lecoq
Fox," he said, nodding toward me, "and
we will suffer together. Wc must be care
ful, my hibchen, not to speak our secrets
aloud, for lynx ears and lynx eyes are guard
ing us. Lecoq Fox is ubiquitous."
I Lad turned to my assistant, and was
listening to his account of his actions. He
had scarched-most carefully Miss Grande's
room and trunk, but, as I expected, had
discovered nothing of a compromising na
ture. I left him after giving him strict
orders that he was to remain in the room
and keep an unsleeping eye on its two in
mates. I then descended the stairs, and
with the assistance of Policeman Grope,
made a thorough examination of the rooms
occupied by Mrs. Glaye, and looked over
every article in the bureau, but, strangely
enough, did not discover a scrap of writing;
not even 3n old letter, a dressmaker's bill,
memorandum of expenses. It looked as if
articles of this nature had been deliberately
destroyed. I was thus minute, not on ac
count of my own convictions, fori believed
she was murdered, but to do justice to the
' aoctor ana ms mysterious Hint about end
ing the'dead woman's will. I found noth
iug; or, rather, I found everything in the
natural condition they would have been in
if tne woman had been suddenly poisoned
in the midst of her ordinary avocations.
Having examined and re-examined every
square inch of the room, finally the hnriv
. was examined, and beneath the bodice of
the cress an envelope was found. It was
directed: "To him who finds me alter I I
annihilate myself. Mrs. Glaye' revenge
,, on her tormentor." I
" The envelope was unsealed, and it con- '
taincd two papers; one was a legally drawn
".- up-ant att!:sted will, which, among other
things, said: "I give and bequeath all the
money thjt comes to me on my death to my
- " adopted daughter. Bertha Glavel" The
other was a letter directed, "To whom it
i aZ concern," and re.id as follows: "Tired
Of life, IilllDfrlv le.iVi? it Wmrnirn h.md
have poisoned myself for the sake of justice
and to escape from my weariness. I was tb
naveinet amanbo called himself, "Mr. Du
ra nd s friend. Ii lie calls he will discover
j mc, ana ne win nnd all I have to tell in the
above sentence, which I again quote: I
-,, have poisonea uiyseli lor the sike oi justice
and from weariness oflifel' If Mr. Durand
has any iniormation to give to justice. I
free his lips and tongue. I am out of the
-' 'lTtlcb ' worId auger and scorn, and, how-
ygrver I may be judged, I have had my
Rvm .1 -i? ytwge. Amelia Glave,
J&-Myrtle House, evening, September 21
-Its .
The letter was written ! . e. k ij
-tt ... . . . -. .uuc urxu nana-
43,- " writing without the evidence of a tremor in
1 . 4s single letter; the punctuation was perfect
every i-was dotted, every t neatlv crossed.
At cue place she had care ull v scratched out
fcfe? "pcrinous word. 1 say she. for the sake
V ofclerness; but I would ask any common-
jsensc man or woman if it comes to that,
pp ''..whether a person who med;-,.. ,:.:j.
1A .1.-..T- I. , , "-" """'"
Hynu uuj, su uiucu eviuencc of delibera-
THE DISPATCH
-BY-
tion. The letter was too obseure and mys
terious to be written by a dving woman
anxious to enlighten justice, and this flour
ish about giving a fortune she did not pos
sess to her daughter Bertha had a very sus
picious air about it I said as much to the
doctor, who was standing quietly in the room
with his hands clasped behind bim.
"The poor lady must have been insane as
well as 'doubly conscious,' to give away a
fortune she did not possess."-
"She did not possess it, my friend, but
she bad the right to give it away. The man
who originally owned the money committed
suicide out of love for the useless mass of clay
that lies yonder beiore you. He wished his
revenge, as she wished hers. She had sworn
that she would be true to the one man who
was killed in a brawl; he tortured her by
writing in the will that she could only in
herit his money and enjoy it in life by mar
rying. He killed himself for her sake, and
she retaliated. If she did not marry, the
money was to go to a distant relative, me,
whom she detested; yet witb the following
proviso, that if she deliberately killed her
self, (be might thwart me, the man she de
tested, by willing the money lying idle to
whom she pleased. Living unmarried she
could not touch it; dying by her own hand
she could only touch it to will it to another.
That is the substance of the vindictive man's
will, robbed ol its bristling legal technicali
ties. According to the far-seeing detective,
Lecoq Fox, 1 have murdered, or caused to
be murdered, the very woman wbose life
was most precious to me. I hoped to share
the lortune by marrying ber. I kill her,
her and then forge a will in her name that
robs me ot everything. My friend, I con
gratulate you, and conclude by saying that
I give you this information for the sake of
the young woman who trusts in me, and
whom I would not see harmed lor a moment
even that I might laugh at you. Had I
been alone, there would have been a differ
ent story."
His manner nettled me, and I said:
"Granting, for the sake of argument, that
your story is true, it only partially clears
matters. Mrs. Glaye committed snicide.
Admitted; but, having gone so far, I shall
hold you and Miss Grands until the mys
tery surrounding the death of Ella Constant
is cleared up, unless," I added, satirically,
"you can also prove that she committed
suicide."
"My friend, it is late, and I am going
home to my house to sleep. Play the spy
yourself, or send some one of your men to
play the spy on me, if yon wish, but I will
not'remain here parleying with you. When
to-morrow comes, act if you dare. To-night
I am still master of my own actions!"
Providing he was kept in sight, it made
little difference whether I kept him a
prisoner in the hotel or in his own house.
I gave him in charge of Policeman Grope,
and took the opportunity of humiliating
him as much as possible.
From the result of my night-long cogita
tions, one fact alone was sure a woman had
been murdered. It she was not killed by
the doctor or by 'Mrs. Glaye or by Cyril
Durand, who was interested enough to stain
his or her hands with blood? Bertha Glave.
Otto Morton, or whom? Admitting, for the
sake of argument, that my first suspicions
were wrong, I was completely in a fog, and
morning found me the most puzzled and
disgusted man you can imagine. My first
act after performing a hasty toilet was to
pay a visit to the fatal room in which, as I
learned from my assistant, Bertha had
passed the entire night. I found her
kueeling beside ber dead mother, pale,
swollen-eyed, but calm.
She handed me a letter, which I eagerly
received and more eagerly read:
"Mr Daughter If I have not been a
very affectionate mother to you, forgive me
now, as I lorgive you. I loved you in my
heart, but I neglected you, selfisnly bent on
my own happiness. Tne only justice I can
do you and others is to kill myselt, and thus
by my death bring about the hap'piness my
life could not afford. I leave the lortune
that will come to me on my death to you,
and vou alone. But I have another wish
which, even now, I have not courage to
make public in a will. I loved Cyril
Durand, but he never loved me; he is weak
willed, and my wild jealousy crushed him
into unresisting obedience, without winning
his heart His love was always lor another.
and if avarice lor a moment conquered his
better nature, he speedily rose to a noble
height I held him as my slave, and I
alone am responsible for his weaknesses.
What I dared not set down in my will I
trust to you to carry out Share the'fortune
you inherit with him; not by marriage, tor
I know your heart is otherwise engaged; but
by surrendering half your wealth to him
without condition. It is only justice,
and that justice may be done to him and
you, I kill myself. I love him, and had he
married me I would have lived. He never
loved me. I can never love another. I am
forever desolate, and rather than that you
should be left penniless and the money go
to a stranger, I willingly release myself
from a world of which I am weary. I'was
jealous of a woman whom I had never seen,
and I threatened to kill her. Doubtless
Cyril Durand imagines I am a murderess.
But, my child, facing eternity I assure you"
my soul is ree irom mat crime; and 1 Know
that Cyril is equally guiltless. He loved
the woman too much to harm her. It he
was cruel to her it was only to keep her
away from me, who had threatened to kill
her. If he confesses his guilt, it is only to
sbield me, whom, no doubt, he believes
guilty. It is a consolation to believe that
he thinks of me even to that extent He ia
a weak-willed, but a good man; this is mine,
let it be your judgment. "Whoever the
guilty party may be, it is not I, it is not he.
Let that console vou. For the rest I go
where time is annihilated. Waiting will
not seem long, and I wait Farewell,
Bertba, and if you ever think of me, let it
be as the woman who clasped the orphaned
child to ber breast, and wept over it in love
and in desolation."
Assuring the girl Bertha that she bad
doue perfectly right in showing me the
letter, and that I would guard its contents
as sacredly confidential, I trotted upstairs
to receive the report ot Policeman Blind,
who had stood as guardian outside Miss
Grande's door all night The room was
empty; the window overlooking the top of
the veranda was opened, and the 'little
maiden' had flown! No doubt she intended
to take the first train to the citv, and as mv
duty imperatively led me in the direction of
the railway station I trotted over to it at full
speed, followed by my assistant The little
wretch was not there, but the incoming train
brought Cyril Durand with two officers.
While I was discussing the subject with
the officers a quiet voice Baid: "My house
is always at the service of 'Lecoq' Fox, my
friend!"
Turning in surprise, I faced the smiling
figure ot Dr. Brandt
"By what authority has Policeman Grope
allowed you ont of his sight?" I asked,
sternly.
"You must ask him when he wakes up,
my Iricnd," was the calm answer. "He is
sleeping very soundly just now."
I wus thinking of more important matters,
and allowed the clownish dqptor to turn bis
111eDt.1l somersaults at leisure. Beaching
his cottage, I found Policeman Grope just
waking up from bis drugged sleep, and
read bim a pretty severe lecture on his lack
01 cunning.
'Sit down, Mr. Durand," I said, with
I'JbJfi
quiet, yet effective dignity. When he had
obeyed, I added: "I would be your friend,
Mr. Durand, but it depends on yourself.
Now, as you know, a crime has been com
mitted here: but the reason why you have
kept your lips sealed no longer exists. Mrs.
Glaye is dead!"
He started and beoame visibly paler, say
ing: "The news is very painful to me, but I am
not heroic enough to say that I do not feel a
grain of consolation. What I suffered I
deserved. I placed myself in her power. In
a weak moment I covted ber wealth and
forgot the woman whom I loved and to whom
I pledged my faith; both aredead. Whether
I rot in jail, or in the tree air is indifferent
to me now. I speak under the supposition
that my words will bring safety to others. I
would not speak them while I thought they
might bring harm to a wretched woman."
"On a certain night I agreed to meet a
yonng woman who loved me, who clung to
me in spite of my brutalities; brutalities,
let me here say, in slight vindication of my
self, assumed for tne sake of keeping her
out ol the reach of an insanely jtalous
woman who had threatened to kill her. I
did not meet' Ella Constant" his voice
trembled at the word, "but I met a raging
fury, Mrs. Glaye. I was compelled to listen
to recriminations which I already knew by
heart I received a dagger thrust in the
arm."
"I had also a taste of it," murmured the
doctor.
"And I also received the information that
the woman I was waiting for was dead;
killed by the jealous, revengeful -Mrs.
Glaye. I parted with her, believing that
this statement was only uttered to torture
me; but when I heard that the dead body of
Ella Constant was fonnd, I only realized
the extent of my misery. I ran away; cot
to save myself, but to save the woman who
had committed a crime out of her love for
me. I was caught, and accepted all the
blame. This is the truth; whether it is be
lieved is now a matter of indifference to
me. My desire for life died with Ella Con
stant All tho rest is indifferent to me
now."
During the conversation I had kept my
eyes and ears open, and I had seen a woman
claying the part ot eavesdropper in a neigh
boring room. I now rose, and continued:
"Dr. Brandt, you may blind me once, but
not twice; you may cause the woman lone
Grande to escape from Policeman Blind;
but you cannot hide her Irom my lynx eyes."
With the words I unexpectedly rushed
into the other room, and dragged the hiding
lone Grande into the light She struggled,
but she was powerless in mv erase and I
Ldragged her into the sitting room. During
tne struggle a wig ot blacK bair Tell off her
head, and when I landed her in the center of
the sitting room, she stood a panting, blush
ing, laughing blonde-haired young woman!
I was astonished, but Cyril Durand was
amazed. He bad risen from bis seat, but he
stood frozen as if gazing at a ghost, tremb
ling in every limb. Then, with a groan, he
staggered forward and fell in a dead faint at
the woman's feet. She was speedily kneel
ing over him, holding his head in her arms,
kissing him and calling him endearing
names, and murmuring, "I forgive you, dear
est," in the most meaningless manner.
What added to the aggravation was that
Dr. Brandt sat silently in his chair, hurling
his broad German smile in my direction,
with an air of satisfaction that was disgust
ing. Assuming all my dignity, I said: "Can
you give me an explanation of all this faint
ing and kissing business?"
"I am willing now to satisfy you. To save
a man to the woman who loved bim, and to
win for myself a wife with money, I in
vented this little plot of murder. Mrs.
Glaye's continual threats to the unwilling
Durand put the germ of the idea into my
head. I started the pursuit, and you car
ried it to the end. In my plot there was o
be no tragedy, in your stupidity you made
one. IsWrtedthe cry of murder when no
murder was committdd; a quantity of
bullock's blood was the only blood shed. In
my efforts I was ably assisted by yonder
blushing, happy little maiden, and' had I
risked more than I did risk, I would for her
sake have done what I have done. Through
her I got the shoe, the breastpin, the riner
and the hat and veil that were so useful to
a wise detective. Mrs. Glaye threatened to
kill Ella Constant I started the report
that Ella Constant was murdered to punish
Cyril Durand' for his feebleness, and to
bring him to the arms that hnngered for
him, and to bring Mrs. Glaye into the arms
that hungered for her money! That I was
not completely successful is due to a certain
idiot"
"Have you done?" I asked angrilv.
"One moment more, my gasconading Le
coq. Let me give you a little more instruc
tion, that you may be wiser in your next
case. ' Let me explain to you the actions of
the 'doubly conscious' Mrs. Glaye. The
dagger which you stole was stained with the
blood of Mr. Durand, and ot poor Dr.
Brandt, whom the frenzied woman tried its
point on. She went over to the pond to
wash her bands, for in her abnormal condi
tion she was cunning. The scratches on her
hands were received in her struggles with
me near the blackberry bushes. She went
over to the deserted house to hide her jewels,
of which fact she was unconscious in her
normal condition. From your blabbing,
my friend, I learnt of this, and so I dug up
the tin case to obtain certain papers which
contain lamiiy revelations that do not enter
into the case. Abnormally she teared me;
normally she detested me. What I did I
did to blind you. But, my friend, is Ella
Constant dead?"
Tbe man Durand had recovered, and had
seated himself on the sofa, where he was
now openly holding the hand of the golden
haired woman, and murmuring every now
and then like a gasping fish. -
"Ella, dear Ella! tell me once again that
you forgive me. I am unworthy of you,
but I always loved you, and you alone!"
"You caused the only tragedy, Lecoq
Fox, caused it by your natural stupidity,'
said tbe doctor.
I! If the political superintendent had
only obeyed my orders, if
CHAPTEB XL
CONCLUDING "WOBDS BY SB. BBANDT.
I am a philosopher first and last If,
through the stupidity of a policeman, I lost
the fair hand and the fair money of an es
timable diseased and deceased lady, I can
still smile. Am I to blame? Ask the
happy husband of Bertha Glaye, who lives
iu luxury on the money that might have
been mine. I plotted for money, but my
nanus and soul are free from crime and
treachery. Can thousands and millions of
the world's successful ones say as much?
My friend, I have lost the monev I plotted
for, but are you sorry for Mrs. Glaye? Dis
interested sorrow is ennobling; be sorry,
but rest consoled with tbe knowledge that
Mrs. Glaye escaped much future physical
agony by her wild act The post mortem ex
amination proved that fact Living, she
would have dragged on a few years, to be
racked by excruciating pain. She was bet
ter deadalthough I am sorry to say that
Cyril Dorand refused the money Bertha
begged him to accept But his inven
tions proved profitable at last, and he and
his wiie live in a very happy home. He is
still weak-willed enough to allow his wife
to rule bim; but that is the ordinary con
comitant of marriage, although I am willing
to confess that Ella Joan Durand uses her
authority with the most gentle nnd loving
hand. They have persuaded me to live
with them, and when I am not inventing
new dishes in the kitchen I am playing
with a very charming little, blue-e'ved,
flaxen-haired girl, who is named Ella after
ber motber, and who has been taught to call
me "grandpa." Am I to blame? I hold the
little child in my arms, I feel her sott little
hands tearing at my spectacles and hair; I
glance toward a happy wife, made happy
through my exertions, and who has always
a loving smile for me on her face and a lov
ing place for me in her heart, and I am con
tent I can not help regretting my sad loss now
and then, bnt perhaps, after all, I was cut
out for a bachelor, and who knows if I had
wealth I mighfnot have turned into a glut
ton. I have made others happy. While
you blame me, remember that fact, and
profit by it in your own wiser way.
Pl'xTdBDBG DISPATOH,
CLARA BELLE'S CHAT.
A Street Blockade Caused by a Girl's
Loss of a Bit of Edging.
PRETTY SCENES IN A CITT PARK.
Fair
Faces and Splendid Forms Aren't
Always Found Together.
PATEI0T10 LESSONS FROM ABROAD
COBEISPOOTEKCE OT TBI DISPATCH. 1
New Yobk, July 19.
.TJMMEB doesn't
keep all the fash
ionable femininity
ut of town. The
belles come in from
the watering places,
and are objects of
high regard in the
public places. A
strikingly handsome
and stylish girl
paused in the center
ot the sidewalk on
I Fifth avenue and
bent ber eyes upon
the pavement She
had evidently drop
ped something, and
began to wander
tbout in that; heed
less manner common
to people in her pre
dicament A district telegraph boy stopped
and joined the girl in her search, and pres
ently the footman of a carriage that was
standing near strolled up and looked over
the pavement for the missing item. Then
two small boys crossed over from the other
side of the street and joined the company,
after which several gentlemen took pari in
the hunt
The people seemed to now flock from all
directions, and even those in the passing
omnibuses leaned forward to see what the
search was all about A grimy old fellow
driving a coal cartgot down from his perch
and elbowed his way through the crowd1 to
discover what the trouble was. By this
time a policeman, who was standing on the
corner, a block away, sauntered leisurely
down to where tbe throng was assembled,
and be, too, began hunting the sidewalk lor
something of value. Finally he stopped
and asked the young lady what it was that
she had lost.
SHE SCATTEBEDTHE CBOWD.
At his words, spoken somewhat gruffly,
the girl gave a nervous start and raised her
lustrous eyes from tbe ground. Seeing the
large assemblage congregated about her she
reddened like a rose and stammered:
"Oh, it's nothing. Only a sample of of
edging, that's all."
There was a common ejaculation among
the crowd: "A sample of edgincl" and then
it dispersed as swiftly as a flock of birds.
As the old coal cart driver clambered up to
his seat he muttered to himself: "An' far
hivin's sake phwat's edgin'?"
The girl being left alone, opened her
pocketbookand the troubled look faded in
stantly from her face. Tncked down into
the depths of the little leather pocket was a
slender strip of white lace. The policeman
standing near would have rebuked the fair
creature for causing so mnch trouble over
nothing, but he caught a peep of the edging
as the girl shook it out to satisfy herself it
was safe, and then he looked at her, and be
was reminded of her tender femininity. He
sauntered away swinging his club and
whistling "Annie Booney," and the girl
hastened down town to match her edging,
FACES AND FIOTJBES.
Two sprightly and dapper young men
were walking along the shady side of
Broadway, wben their impressionable hearts
were glnddened by the sight of a figure im
mediately ahead "ot them. There were, in
fact, two figures,but one was not worth
mentioning, for it was so slender, flat and
generally insignificant. The other filled the
eye as snugly as it filled the stylish gown
by which it was enveloped. Seen from be
hind the lines, the bearing of this feminine
figure was impressive in the extreme.
"She's a queen from the ground up, I'll
stace my last aoiiar, said one ot tbe young
men. "We'll have to get a look at her. I
suppose the little old thing with her will
glare at us, but we can't help that I
shouldn't sleep for a week if I let that face
escape me."
The two hastened their steps and passed
the women. Hurrying on for a moment
they paused to glance into a shop window,
and then turned to inspect the woman of
the beautiful shape. A close observer might
have seen the faces of both turn pale when
the women passed. The woman of the ele
gant figure was so uglv that her face hurt
the eyes like the sun reflected from a mirror.
Her "eyes were askew, her nose was long
enough for two noses and was as red as flan
nel, and her mouth was a monstrosity. She
was, moreover, a lady of something near
fifty, and had more than a suggestion of
moustache. The little creature by her side,
on the contrary, was as sweet-faced as one
could wish, with soft, pensive eyes and tbe
sweetest sort of a dimple near the corner of
her mouth.
A SCENE IN THE FABE.
One of the prettiest life pictures that the
city affords can be seen in Central Park on
afternoons when the meadows are open to
the children. Hundreds of these merry
hearted creatures are then scattered over the
velvety greensward, or perched on the
rocks, or nested in the low hanging branches
of the trees. They are of all ages, all sizes
and nearly all nationalises. Charlie and
Hans, Patrick, Francois and Bernardino;
Jennie and Gretchen, Biddy, Lucille and
Kinna hobnob together, interpret each
other's patois unerringly and evolve a gen
eral one, including a shade of all, that
could scarcely have been known at the
Tower of Babel. The colored Martha Wash
ingtons and Abraham Lincolns are in the
merry troop where all sorts of games are go
ing on mat snople legs and feet can master.
Then the babies! Babies in perambula
tors, babies that never knew any other than
nature's own, the mother's arms, babies
rolling on the crass, babies toddling and
tumbling everywhere, babies seated on
shawls ruling the whole family it seems
as if this were a world of babies witb no
room left for the old folks. But the old
folks are there. Here is a big brown man
stretched at fujl length on, the greensward,
while half a dozen youngsters pelt him with
grass balls, stick straws in his ears and roll
and tumble all over him, and you can see
the happy gurgle of fatherly pride shaking
him like a'mold of jelly. There is a buxom
matron running races with hei five boys.
She is fleet of foot; bnt she never reaches
the goal first, and her youngsters never sus
pect why. They are loud in their triumph
over her defeat and her eyes sparkle no less
than theirs.
APPBECIATES THE STABS AND STBIPES.
People who saw a certain Murray Hill
residence profusely decorated with flags on
the Fourth need have no doubt of the loy
alty of its mistress, even though she has
lived abroad several years, been entertained
by the nobility and presented to the Queen.
They should have seen, too, her beach cot
tage with its great wave of bunting ebbing
and flowing with the aerial tides. In addi
tion, they should have beard ber discourse
when rallied on her patriotic display.
'Nobody truly appreciates the Stars and
Stripes but the soldier who has fought for it
and the citizen who has lived abroad," she
said. "1 found by a life in London and
Paris that it is not only the most beautiful,
but tbe most symbolic of noble principles,
of any flag in the world. You know we
saw inside of much that is never apparent
to the common tourist, and the longer we
stayed the more were we impressed with the
absurdities nf rnnlr and royalty. I think
either of u kruyr,, h.9jrdeep the feeling
ft c
M
W&k MB
W Mm
w. If fm. :
vzssliZlLjSr
SUNDAY, JULY 20,
was becoming till one holiday when we
were out driving, The British flag, of
course, was flaunting everywhere, and sud
denly we came upon a line ot the flags of
' nations strung across the street and
right in the center hung the Stars and
Stripes. My heart gave a great bound as
at the sight o' an old friend, and as our car
riage passed under the flag my husband, who
you know is the most unsentimental person
in the world, removed his hat and bowed
his head; I gave my tribute in silent tears.
I believe I vowed then and there to show
my love and loyalty on every fitting occa
sion, and thaf is what I am doing to-day.
A great deal is said about society peode
turning English worshipers and little
lovers. Why," turning to a lovely young
girl who was smiling at her eloquence' "my
daughter shall not marry either earl or
prince, rich or poor, influential or other
wise, unless he first renounces title and
estate and becomes a simple American
citizen I"
THE LATEST LUNCHEON FAD.
Did you ever hear of a wine-tasting
luncheon? One of those lively young men
thaf are forever entertaining the young
ladies gave one the other day. The peculi
arity ol the wine-tasting luncheon is its ex
treme costliness. Aside irom that it is not
half so enjoyable as an ordinary repast. The
idea is to have as many kinds of wines
served as possible, and ot each class of wine
a cheap and expensive brand are used. For
instance, a cheap and costly claret is
offered to each guest, and the game is for
the guest to take both and choose the
best There is some interest attached to this,
in consideration of the fact that all fashion
able people pride themselves upon their
ability to tell good wine from bad, and,
therelore, those that persistently choose the
ordinary wine are joyously derided by their
victorious companions.
There was one young creature at this wine
tasting luncheon the other "day who chose
the expensive wine straight through the
list As she was a mere child, with big, in
nocent eyes and a face as fresh as a flower,
her judgment astounded the entire company.
She was tbe heroine of the day, and some of
the veterans eyed her withT envy. Asked
for an explanation of her remarkable talent,
she shrugged ber pretty shoulders and said
that sbe was born with a taste tor the best of
everything. When the luncheon was over
a listener might have overheard a conversa
tion between the clever girl and her host I
am not able to say why, when, how or where
the trick was arranged, but I am sure that
the company at that luncheon still worships
the pretty wine taster as the best connoisseur
in the neighborhood. Claba Belle.
MACKENZIE A BUSY UAH.
How the Great London Physician Utilizes
Erery Minute of the Day.
Boston Herald's London Letter.!
It is said in the profession that no phy
sician in London receives so many patients
in his consulting room as Sir Morell
Mackenzie. They come, not only from
every part of England, but from every part
of the world, and the list includes royalties
and nobles, as well as commoners. In ad
dition to the patients who call, there are the
patients who must be called upon. And
then you may say the work is but begun.
For a man whose working days are very
long, Sir Morell is an early riser. He has
breakfasted, read his mail and morning
papers, and is out ot the house by 9
o'clock. He reserves the hour Irom 9 to 10
for a few urgent cases which require a timely
morning visit Beturning home, he receives
patients in his consulting room for the next
four i ours. All who call betore 2 o'clock
may have audiences with him. At 2 he
lunches with his family. Bnt there may be
a aozen persons waiting at tnat bour, and
they must be attended to after luncheon.
Then he enters his carriage and makes his
round of calls. If he reaches home by 7:30
he thinks he has done well. After dinner be
goes throngh his correspondence, and per
haps finishes a scientific article or adds a
chapter to one of his medical works. He
rarely dismisses bis secretary before 11
o'clock, and he is generally at his own desk
until midnight.
I was much amused one day when he
showed me his "arrangement," as he calls
it. His "arrangement ' consists of two con
sulting rooms, connected by a narrow pas
sage, closed at each end. by swinging doors.
During "office hours" the reception room is
certain to be filled with patients. The caller,
in his order of arrival, is shown by a polite
manservant into one of the consulting rooms.
Presently Sir Morell enters, greets his pa
tient, discusses the "case," and, when the
discussion is at an end, touches a hidden sig
nal, to which an attendant responds, as the
great physician bows cou.teously to the de
parting visitor, and then disappears through
his "private exit" to the second consulting
room, where another patient is in waiting.
When this "caBe has been disposed of," Sir
Morell retreats again to the first room, to
which a third visitor has meanwhile been
admitted, and during this interview a fourth
caller is shown to an adjoining apartment.
Thus, Sir Morell is never kept in waiting,
and thus he saves his own time, as well as
the time of his patient''. "Like a panto
mime, isn't?" said he, as he gave me a prac
tical illustration of the efficacy ot his "ar
rangement "I am continually appearing
j - and disappearing through doors." But the
visiting patient sees no evidence of the
pressure that is always upon the genial doc
tor the arrangement is so perfect, the polite
attendants are so thoroughly trained, and
Sir Morell's manner is so cordial and atten
tive. "This little passage saves me at least
an hour and a half every day," Baid the
famous pyaician, with a merry twinkle in
his keen brown eyes.
THE JOCKETS JtOTHEB
Overcome by Excitement at IKonmonth
Whllo Wnlcblng Her Boy IMde Arab.
New York Sun. J
At Monmouth Parkon Saturday a neatly
dressed middle-aged-woman, with a mother
ly face, sat just behind the reporter's stand.
She watched everything and everybody
closely, and seemed to be laboring under
great excitement As thehorses were go
ing to the post for the sixth race, she stood
up and looked down the track anxiously.
Turning to several men setting behind her
she asked with assumed composure, "Can
vou tell me what horse the boy Decker is
riding?"
"Arab," replied one of the men.
-is ne a lavonter sne ascea
"No," said the man. "Do you want to
make a bet."
"Oh, no, I dont care to make a bet," she
replied, "but I'm interested in the race."
Just then the cry went up "Tney're off."
The woman stood on tip-toe and watched
them coming. As they entered the stretch
she clapped her hands and cried, "Come on,
Arab; come on! Good horse, good horse!"
The horses were nearly at the wire when
her excitement overcame her and she sank
to the floor. Sbe didn't swoon, hut she
didn't have any strength left. When she
was lifted upon a chair her first question
was: "Did Arab win?"
She was told that he was beaten by a
head. She was terribly disappointed. As
soon as she had recovered sufficiently she
le:t the track. A man who said he
knew her said she was the Jockey Decker's
mother. Decker bad been a jockey several
years, but that was the first time she had
seen him ride.
MAKING NEW NOSES.
A Hindoo Doctor Doing a Land Office Bml.
neee Iu Replnclnc the Blomber
New Castle, Eag. Chronicle. 1
In an out-ol-the-wuy corner of India, in
Kattywar, a Hindoo doctor, Tribbownndas
Motichund Shah, L. M., has during the
past six years been carrying on a succession
of operation in rhinoplasty, or the renewing
of noses, such as probably no other medical
practioner in the world baa ever bad the op
portunity of attempting. The State of
Junagadh, where these interesting opera
tions.have been performed, is notorious for
the cutting off of noses, the practice being
adopted both by jealous husbands as a
punishment for their wives, and by several
tribes, of whom the Mekranis are the worst,
as a mark of vcnrann nn th.;. A..i..
... .,... ..m M-J
1890.
NO BOOM FOR DOUBT.
The
New Testament a Thoroughly
Authenticated Document.
HISTORY OP THE MANUSCRIPTS.
Testimony of Writers of the Early Cen
turies Completes a Chain
THAT LINES THE PAST AND PRESENT
Pfirma ros tbx mar-ATcn.1
The center of' discussion to-day between
Christians and non-Christians is the person
of Christ One of the essential positions in
this discussion is the relation between the,
"Jesus of history" and the "Christ of
dogma." Was Christ really what Chris
tians believe Him to have been?
The answer to this question is wrapped
up in the authenticity of tbe gospels. If
these are cotemporary records, as Chris
tians hold them to be, then the matter is
settled, for the Cnrist of the evangelists is
the Christ of the Christian creed. It is
worth while to notice here that the very
first appearance and mention of Christ in
Christian literature coincides with the
Christian belief -in Him, and has no stand
ing room for rationalistic theories about
Him. There is no doubt in the mind
of any scholar as to the genuineness of at
least four of the epistles of St Paul. But
the Christ of St Paul is the Christ of Chris
tian theology. Herein these epistles, written
before a word of. one of the four gospels was
set on paper, is the divinity ol Jesus of
Nazareth, held and declared with all the
clearness of the creed. And when welcome
to the earliest Christian writers, here isthe
same ideaof Christ There are no Unitarians
among them. They believe and teach about
Him exactly what we believe and teach to
day. This is worth tbinking about. The
Christian Church has never iu all these cen
turies wavered in its adherence to the divine
Christ
OUTSIDE THE TESTAMENT.
Go back to the earliest fragmentary remains
of Christian writing outside of the New
Testiment, to Clement of Borne, to Igna
tius, to Polycarp, to Justin, and
come down all the long course
of the ages; past the persecutions
past the manifold endeavors of heretics,
past the varied and persistent attacks of
sceptics from century number one to century
number nineteen, you win nnd tnat unrist
ian faith in Christ is a perfectly straight
line. Nothing has ever pushed the Church
to one side or the other of it The assaults
which are being made upon tbe creed to-day
are nothing new. The Church, by long ex
perience, bas grown expectant of attack,
and bas always prospered under it The
beseigers always fail, and always will fail.
Nothing can destroy truth.
When I say that the relation of the
"Jesus of history" to the "Christ of dogma"
is very closely connected with the question
of the authenticity ot the gospels, I would
not be understood to mean that the Christian
religion rests upon any book whatsoever. The
Church in her sermons and her sacraments
taught the gospel long before there were
any "gospels'' heard of. The Church is tbe
living witness to the life and person of
Jesus Christ. But the goBpels are the record
of the Church's earliest teaching. And they
serve to detect any possible departures from
it It is of importance that we should
know as nearly as we can who wrote these
gospels, and when.
It is with this in mind that I purpose to
consider in two articles one of the gospels
that which bears the name of Matthew.
And what I want to do to-day is to trace
the history of this gospel as a book. I have
nothing to say about its contents. My con
sideration is ol the book itself. Here is a
record ot the life and deeds of Jesus ol
Nazareth. Where did it come from?
Matthew's name is written at the
top of these pages, but Matthew
did not write it then. He did not sign his
name to it. Nor is there in the gospel itself
any indication of its authorship. How do
we know that Matthew wrote it? How do
we know when it was written? What is
the history of this history? N
FEINTED, TV'BITTEN AND TJNWBITTEN.
The history of St. Matthew's cosrjel talis
into three stages. The period of print, the
period of manuscript and the period 01"
patriotic reference. The first two periods
are perfectly plain. The trospel of St
Matthew is in print to-day, and has been in
print since the year 1466. In that year
John Gutenberg, whom some account to
have been the inventor of printing, pub
lished an edition of the Bible in Latin. It
contains this same gospel which we read to
day. Before the middle of the fifteenth century
the Bible was in manuscript Nobody could
count the number of printed New Testa
ments which are in the world, but the num
ber oi manuscript New Testaments which
remain is not so difficult of reckoning.
There are in existence about 1,500 manu
scripts, most of them written before the year
14S6.
These manuscript New Testaments are of
two kinds, some earlier and some more
recent. The difference can be readily seen
by a different fashion of writing. Part of
these manuscripts were written entirely in
capital letters and with no spaces between
either the sentences or even tbe words. Part
of them were written, as we write to-day, in
both capitals and small letters. The manu
scripts which were written in capitnls are
called uncials. Tbe manuscripts which
were written in running hand are
called enrsives. The difference in the
letters may be seen by looking at
the omega which is painted on
the ceiling of the chancel of Calvary
Church, which is an uncial, and then at the
omega which is painted in the chancel
window which is a cursive. The division
in time is about the middle of the tenth
century. Manuscripts witten before that
date were all written in uncials.
TOBN AND TATTEBED FBAOMENTS.
There are great differences among the
uncial manuscripts. Of these manuscripts,
written before the year 9S0 there remain
only abont CO, and of these some are but
fragments. A good many of them contain
only a page or two; that is, in the days when
paper was scarce. The ink of St Mat
thew's gospel, for example, might be erased
as much as wat possible, and then some
thing else written over it, and all that re
mains is the dim impression of tbe old
letters faintly seen under a microsocpe;
one is a tittle Bundle ot small
bits of paper found in the binding of
some old book. The binder had cut up a New
Testament manuscript and used it, like any
common parchment.in his trade. Scholars
are able to distinguish among these various
manuscripts, as to their dates, partly by the
kind of parchment or vellum used, and
partly by the fashion of forming the letters,
which varied from century to century.
Of these uncial manuscripts of the New
Testament there are three of surpassing
value. One, which is called the Codex
Alexandrinus (A), is in the British Museum.
It dates back to the fifth century. The first
part is torn off, so that it begins with the
tixth verse of the twenty-fifth chapter of St
Matthew. Another (B), which is called the
Codex Vaticanus, is in theYatican Library at
Borne. The lust part is tpjn off from this
manuscript, so that it comes abruptly to an
end with the fourteenth verse of the fourth
chapter of the Epistle to tbe Hebrews. St
Matthew's gospel is here entire. This
manuscript goes back to the fourth centnry.
The thiid (A), which is called the Codex
Sinaiticus, is iu the Imperial Library at St
Petersburg, and was lound by the great
German scholor, Tiscbendorf, in tbe ancient
monastery of St. Catherine, wnich bas stood
for centuries among the crags of Sinai. This
manuscript includes the entire New Testa
ment as ne have it to-day. The date is the
fourth century.
THE OLDEST YET DISCOVEBED.
An especial interest attaches to this third
manuscript In tbe year 331 the Emperor
.Constantino,, ordered .. Bishop Euseblua to
have SO handsome and well-written
copies of tbe New Testiment made for the
churches of Constantinople. Eusebins, whose
writings we have, tells us that these copies
were arranged in sheets by threes and fours.
With thla description tbe codex Slnaiticus
tallies exactly. It is written upon the finest
vellum and is arranged in sheets by threes
and fours. It is certainly as old as the
fourth century. It is probably of the year
331.
This is the oldest manuscript of St
Matthew's gospel which has yet been dis
covered. In the year 303 began tbe last of
the pagan persecutions. The Emperor
Diocletian was determined to destroy our
religion utterly. He paid especial attention
to the discovery and destrnction of our
sacred books. Everybody who had in his
possession any part of the New Testament
was required upon pain of death to give it
up to be bumed. A new class
of offenders comes into church his
tory with this persecution, the "traditions"
or "traitors," who played the coward and
gave ud the Scriptures into the hands of
the pagans. This will explain tbe lack of
manuscripts earlier than this long and
thorongh persecution. They were burned on
pagon bonfires.
Here is a space then of three centuries
between the events which are described in
St. Matthew's gospel, and the earliest
manuscript of this gospel which remains.
This is the period ot patriotic reference.
That is, we trace the existence of this gospel
during these obsenre centuries iv noting
what is said abont it by the Christian
writers whose works have survived.
KNOWLEDGE THEOUGH BEFEBENCES.
The references to the New Testament in
the writing ofthe first three centuries may
be divided into two classes quotation
and description. Sometimes there is
only the taking of a text or the
using of an illustration which can
be refeired to the pages of the New Testa
ment, sod which shows that the writer was
acquainted with the Scriptures which we
have in our hands to-day. Concerning these
quotations, it will be enough to say that
they occur to a greater or less extent in every
one of these writers, the amount ol quota
tion being determined partly by the literary
habits of the writer and partly by tbe na
ture of his subject, exactly as in sermons
and in theological books to-day. In a
standard work on "The credibility of the
Gospel History" these quotations fill five
octavo volumes. From the works of Origen,
for example, which were written in the third
centnry, it is said that nearly the whole of
the New Testament could be reoroduced.
Of the works of Justin Martyr, which were
written in the second century, it is said:
"This father introduces into his extant
writings a large number of evangelical
passages. A few of them coincide exactly
with our canonical gospels. A much larger
number have so close a resemblance that
without referringio the actual text of our
gospels, the variations would not be noticed
by an ordinary reader. Justin Martyr pro
poses to derive these sayings and doings
from written documents which he styles
Hemoirt ofthe Apostles, and which (he tells
his heathen readers)are called gospels."
The most interesting testimonies to the
authenticity of the New Testament Scripture
come under the head, not of quotation but
of description.
LEARNED THBOUGH DESCRIPTION
We have seen that the Gospel of St
Matthew was accepted by tbe Church in its
present form in the fourth centnry, and
can stilt be read in tbe very pages
which were written in the year 331.
Athanasius, Easebius, Cyril, Jerome
and others, all in tbat same century
give lists of the New Testament books, with
St. Matthew's gospel at the head. Origen,
in the year 250, gives a similar list
Irenteas was writing about the year 200. He
was a pupil of Polycarp, who had been a
disciple of St John himself. There was,
accordingly, only one generation interven
ing between Irenteus and the days of the
last Apostle. Here is what lrentens says
about the gospels in his day: "Matthew,"
he says, "produced his gospel written
among the Hebrews in their own dialect,
while Peter and Paul proclaimed the gospel
and founded the church at Borne. Alter
the departure ot these, Mark, the disciple
and interpreter of Peter, also transmitted to
us in writing what had been preached by
Peter. And Luke, tbe companion of
Paul, committed to writing the gos
pel preached by him, t. e., Paul.
Afterward John, the disciple of our
Lord, the same that lay upon bis breast,
also published tbe gospel, while he was yet
at Ephesus, in Asia. In the year 200,then,
there were four accepted gospels, exactlyas
there are now, the first of them bearing the
name of Matthew as its author. In the year
160 a Christian writer named Tatian com
posed a harmony of the four gospels, tbat is,
he so arranged the four records as to make
one continuous narrative. This arrange
ment he called Diatessaron, which mean3
fonr put together. This work, which dates
back to the middle of the second century,
has recently, within tbe past twenty years,
been discovered. We learn from it tbat in
that day there were fonr accepted gospels,
as there are now, and that these four were
essentially the same which we have to-day.
Thus we trace the gospel of St Matthew
bacK to the year 160.
THE EARLIEST INFOBMATION.
In that same year, or earlier, lived a
friend of the Martyr Polycarp, named
Papias. Papias is described by Irecxus as
a disciple of St John. He tells himself
bow diligent he was to inquire about the
sayings of the Apostles. "When a person
came in my way who had been a follower of
the elders, I would inquire about the dis
coveries ofthe elders what was said by An
drew, or by Peter, or by Philip, or by
Thomas or James, or by Jotin or Matthew,
or any other ot the Lord's disciples."
"Matthew," says Papias, passing on from a
description of the composition of St Mark's
gospel, "Matthew composed the oracles in
the Hebrew language, and each one inter
preted them as he could."
Thw is the earliest mention of the name.
This man, who touches with one hand the
days ot the Apostles, is acquainted with the
gospel of St Matthew.
We arrive, then, at this conclusion. Tbat
in the middle of the second century, 50
years after the death of the last ofthe apos
tles, there were four gospels known among
Cbristians, one of which bore the name of
Matthew.
Now remember, that was not a day of
books. It was a day of remarkable and
trained memories. To hand down tacts, words
and teachings, without the aid of writing,
from one generation tu another was a uni
versal Hebrew custom. Scarcely anything
was put in writing. All was left to the
safe keeping of a practiced memory. The
Christians ot the middle of the second cen
tury had this same traditional remembrance
of the deeds and words of Christ by which to
test these and all other gospels. Christian
acceptance of the gospels is a testimony to
their truth.
THE APOCRYPHAL GOSPELS.
It is not likely, however, that the four
gospels had any real rivals. The "apocry
phal gospels" which we have from tbat
early day are mere foolishness. The gen
uine gospels stand among them as Plato
and Aristotle stand among the petty and
obscure philosophers of their day. "
Eeuiember, also, that there was already
heresy in the church. Orthodox and here
tics alike looked for authority to the four
gospels. The Constitution of the United
States could be altered by the Republicans
without detection from the Democrats al
most as readily as these authentic records of
Christ's life and teaching could be altered
cither by orthodox or heretics without the
knowledge of the other. In the year 140
there was a cry against the heretic Marcion
that he had altered the gospel of St. Luke.
Iusuch-a church, and in such a-time,
when Christians were not so many but
that the affairs of one parish were known to
all, when men were still living who had
known the apostles and heard them talk,
when the presence of heresy wss like the
presence of a watchman in sneh'a time this
gospel of St. Matthew uas accepted as a
true record oi' tbe deed's and words of Jesus
Christ. Geoege Hodges.
A large cave has been discovered by
prospectors on Cerros Island, off the coast of
Lower California. It was explored for 600 f est
and the walls were ornamented with beautiful
.stalactites and columns.
19
THE FIRESIDE SPHDDl
ii Collection of Statical Knts for
Home CracMng.
Address communications for tMs department
to E. E. Chadbottbn. Lewitton, Maine.
1131 A BOUQUET OP PLOWRB3.
cm. a.
1132 ANAOEA5L
Three Words.
Vre read about a happy pair
Who dwelt amid surroundings fair,
whi-re all their wants were well supplied
And nothing to them was denied
Save one small luxury a food
AVhich probably was pretty good,
Bat one which they could do without
And which they need not care about
Yet they were tempted In some way.
Just how It was I need not sav.
To eat this food which seemed more iwoet
Because 'twas a forbidden treat
It was a naughty thing to do,
And they were punished for it too.
Comoelled tn leave their happy home
They had wide space o'er which to roam.
For population was so starse
That dwelling places were not scarce.
Expelled from whole they had to toll
And get their livlngfrom the soil.
Such was the penalty decreed.
Though It was not "an end ot gkxzd."
KELS0NXA2T.
1133 NUMEBICAL.
1. 2, 3, 4, 9 room you'll find,
When the complete dawns on jour mind.
Donot8.7,2,3ilown.
And "eire it up," with fretful frown.
6, 5, 2. 9 and patience will
Oft take the place of practiced skill.
Bitter Sweet.
1134 double oblono.
First Oblong. I. To injure. Z A kitchen
ntensil. 3. The hammer of a piledriyor. 4.
Without, a EtU. . The center of a target.
7. Apropos.
Second Oblong. 1. TogWe leave. 2. To keep
busy. 3. A small insect. 4. A kiln for drying
hops or malt 6. By. a. Mineral matter. 7.
The sea eagle.
Join with the letters of a word meaning tbe
highest and get these words of seven letters
1. A kind of swallow. 2. A fall salt of defen
sive armor. S. Exuberant. 4. Farthest out
ward. 5. (llin.) Red ferruginous quartz. 6.
Something offensive to tbe sight. 7. An ex
ample. Paradox.
1135 CUBTAILMENT.
A crusty bachelor will e'er affirm
Tbat primal is of total but the germ;
First prime, then total that is all his creed;
But mothers know tbe difference. Indeed.
To the true woman, far tbesweetest thing
In tbe wide world a prime Is; it does bring.
To her, not totil; speaks tha: heavenly tongue
Which keeps the world forever fresh and
JOUng. iSITTEB BWZST.
1136 TRANSPOSITION.
A priest who wore a first I heard,
When be explained tbe sacred word;
So dull he was I thought such preacher
Quite unfit to be a teacher.
By those who heard him be was classed
As one that's often called a last.
Nelsonian.
1137 diamond.
1. In New York. 2. To beat fProv. Eng.).
3. Tbe color of a diamond. 4. Diversified with
wave-like lines. 5. A range of high land. 8..
Certain police. 7. Allures. 8. (Mining). De
viates anewfrom the vertical. 9. Hurts. (Obs).
10. Doctor of dental surgery. (Abbr.) 1L In
Pittsburg. Doxuxxs.
1138 CHABADE.
TIR3T.
Fm useful to the merchant he
For guidance often turns to me;
When he consults me I can show
The very thing be wants to know.
Perhaps the spelling that I use
Is not the kind tbat you would choose,
SECOND.
In feudal times, I may avow.
My name was of tener heard than now,
Then I described the part of land
On which the owner's bouse did stand,
But here again I grieve to tell
Is evidence of a bad spelt
whole.
A certain kind of skill am I,
A craft that's full of mysteryl
Twould seem that miracles are wrought
By those who in my art are taught
Itis my business to deceive;
I am a humbug, I believe.
J.lIcK.
1139 SYNCOPATION.
Last is a bird of swimming kind:
A whole a what you wish to find,
NSL302CIAN.
1140 ENIGMA.
Come, my boy. while you may.
Have a game of ball to-day;
I have no hands nor feet you see.
But back the ball I'll throw to thee.
Only to this you must agree
Always to throw first ball to me.
Now, my boy, just guess my name.
And then come on and bave a game.
MBS. J. P. DBYSDAX3.
THE JUNE COMPETITION.
Prize winners: 1. H. C. Burger, Alliance, O.
Z Wm. Hushes, Apollo, Pa. 3. Sadie Harlow,
Pittsburg. Pa.
Holt of honor: Era 8. Nelson. John M. Mar
lowe, H. M. T.. Triton, Alice T. Clougb, Leah
Bernstein, J. P. Leathe, Mr. ., Ellice Jacques.
B. Ingalls. Helen B. Teague. Sphinx Crank. L.
S. P T. M. Parker. Ida Burns, John Foley,
Geo. A. Merlin. S. P. Roak. Linda C. Peabody.
Mrs. A. H. Rand. Peleg Waterman, Elil
Peters, B. M. V., 7. C. Penley.
ANSWEBS.
1121 McGinty "ac the bottom of the sea."
HZ-Blinkard.
1123 Homer, Iliad.
1124 Martha Washington, (llar-thaw-asa-ing-tnn.
1125 Care, cue.
1128 Scepter, specter.
1127 O
BAB
CAPES
C O P I S T 8
BAPILLOEB
CAPILLARIES
BE8LAVINQ
B T O B I N a
8 E I N U
8 E Q
B
1128-Drng-glst
1129 Eglantine.
1130 A hole.
THE CZAS AND HIS EGGS.
Sines He Bm Learned They Can be Poiion4
Every Precaution la Takes.
Pall Mall Badzet.J
Not long ago a savant made the discovery
that an egg could easily be poisoned by the
insertion of a thin wire that would leave no
mark on the shell, tlntil then the Czar had
eaten eggs with absolute security; but .now,
a Continental correspondent avers, they are
sent him in all sorts of mysterious recep
taclessometimes in hat boxes and they
are boiled or converted into omelettes in a
little kitchen contiguous to the Czar's
study. Here a Parisian cook named Bey
maud operates, under the personal superin
tendence of the Czarina, who goes in and
out of the kitchen at all honrs, and often
prepares a dish with ber own bands.
The Czir never eats thicC soups or thick
sauces. His food is meat, boiled or broiled,
but the broth or gravy must always be per
fectly' efear. The vegetables are served
whole, and cut before him with a silver
knife. The sngar which he eats with his
fruit is also pounded in his sight, and his
salt is the common gray salt in large grains,
with which it would be impossible to mix
arsenic, as could be done witb the fine white
table salt
r
1
I
J
i
A
.1
J
aifcfttt vf - ;' IibJB
MtetMmSs . . 3. ...... '
i.-feft,..ei
IKKHKBKBBtHKKKKHSSSKBSBBBIKisSSSxSSIaslKKBBKi