'
-J V
10
HE PITTSBURG DISPATCH, SUNDAY. AUGUST 10 1890.
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y
and so one has erer yet found us down
hearted. JWe've aye been 'provided lor,
and sue wilLweyet; I do not mean u re-
gards the common necessities of life for
these are bat ot small account but the
deeper necessities of sympathy and hope and
confidence. Stand fist Craig-Boystonl
'this rock shall fly, from its firm base as soon
as II' "Well, my young friend," he continued,
quite cheerfn'ly and bravely, "you have
seen me in a mood that is not common with
xoe; you will ay nothing about it to her,
especially. She puts her trust in me; and
so far. I tbink, I have ot failed her. I
have said to her 'Come the three corners of
the world in arms, and ire shall shock them;'
ill fortune buffets uselessly against
'man's nnconqnerable mind.' She
knows the race she comes of, and
th (motto of that race: Craig
Royston holds its front! "Well, well; now
let me thank you for this beautiful evening;
and on her behalf, too. She is at the time
when the mind should be stored with pleas
ant memories. Perhaps I have been over
communicative, and made you the yiclim
- of idle fears; but there will be no more of
that; to-morrow you shall find me in my
right mind."
He held out his hand. The young man
did not know what to say thsre was so
much to say! He could only make offer of
some further little hospitalities, which Mr.
Bethune declined. Then the steward was
summoned to put ont the lamps and make
other preparations, so that the 'White Rose
should fold its petals together, for -the slum
ber or toe nignu .ana presently a pro
found peace reigned from stem to stern, and
the last plashing of the oars outside had
died away.
But it was not to sleep that Vineentde-
votea tne early nours of this night and
morning. His mind was tossed this way
and that by all kinds of moods and projects,
the former piteous and the latter wildly im
practicable. He had never before fully
realized how curiously solitary was the lot
of these two wanderers, how strange was
their isolation, how uncertain was their
future. And while the old man's courage
and bold front provoked his admiration, he
could not help looking at the other side of
the shield; what was to become of her, when
her only protector was taken from her? He
knew that they were none too well off, those
two; and what would she do when left
alone? But if on the very next day he
were to go to Mrs. Ellison and borrow 10,
000 from her, which he would have mysteri
ously conveyed to old George Bethune? He
could repay the money.partly by the sacrifice
of his own small fortune, and partly by the
assigning over of the paternal allowance,
while he could go away to Birmingham, or
Sheffield, or wherever the place was and
earn his living by Decoming Mr. Ogden's
private secretary. They need never know
from whom this bounty came and it would
render them secure from all the assaults of
fortune. Away up there in the Black
Country he would think of them; and it
would lichten the wearisome toil of the desk
if he could imagine that Maisrie Bethune
had left the roar and squalor of London, and
was perhaps wandering through these very
Thames-side meadows, or floating in some
white-garnitured boat, under the shade of
the willows. There would be rest for the
pilgrims at last, after their world-bufFetings.
And so he lav and dreamed and pitied and
planned, until in the window of the small
state-room there appeared the first blue-gray
of the dawn, about which time be finally fell
asleep.
But ihe next morning all was briskness
and activity around them flags flying,
colored awnings being stretched, pale swirls
of smoke rising from the stovepipes, the pic
nickers in the meadows lighting their spirit-
lamps lor the breakfast tea. The sun was
shining brightly, but there was a cool
breeze to temper the beat; the snrlace of the
stream was stirred into silver; tbe willows
' and rushes were shivering and swaying; a
scent of newmown hay was in the air.
Already there were plenty of crait afloat, on
business or on pleasure bent; early visits
being paid, or masses of flowers, ferns and
palms being brought along for purchasers.
Maisrie was the first to be up and out; then
old -George Bethune could be heard gaily
singing in his stateroom, as an accompani
ment to his toilet:
Hey. J onuie Cope, are ye wan kin yet,
And are jour drums a beatin yet.
If ye were wautin, I would wait
To meet Jonnle Dope In tbe morning?
Finally when Vincent, with many apologies
for being late, made his appearance outside,
he found the old man comfortably seated in
the stern-sheets, under the pink and white
awning, reading a newspaper he had pro
cured somewhere, while Maisrie was on the
upper deckol the houseboat watering the
flowers with a can that she had got irom the
steward.
And indeed to this young man it appeared
a truly wonderful thing that these three,
some little while thereafter, in the cool
twilight of the saloon, should be seated at
breakfast together; they seemed to form a
little family by themselves, isolated and
remote from the rest of tbe world. They
forgot tbe crowded Thames ontside and tbe
crowded meadows; here there was quiet and
a charming companionship; a band that
was playing somewhere was so distant as to
be hardly audible. Then the saloon itself
was so pretty; for though the boat was
.named the "White Bose, there was a good
deal of pale pink in its decorations; the
flutings and cornice were pink where they
were not gold, and pink were the muslin
curtains drawn around the small windows;
while the profusion of deepcritnson roses all
ronnd the long room, and tbe masses of
, grapes and pineapples on the breakrast
table made up a picture almost typical of
summer, in the height of its luxuriance and
shaded coolness.
"This seems very nice," said the yonng
tost, "even supposing there were no river
and no racing. I don't see why a caravan
like this shouldn't be put on wheels and
taken away through the country. There is
an idea for you, Mr. Bethune, when you set
out on your prilgrirnage throngh Scotland;
wouldn't a moveable of this kind be the
very thing for Miss Bethune and you? you
scould set it afloat if you wanted to go down
a river, or put it on a lorry when you
wanted to take tbe roid."
"I'm afraid all this luxury would be out
of place in 'Caledonia, stern and wild,' "
the old man said. "No, no; these things
are for the gay South. When Maisrie and
I seek ont the raUly solitudes of the North,
and the graves of Benwick and Cargill, it
will be on foot; and if we bring away with
us some little trifle to remind us of Logan's
streams and Ettrick's shaws, it will be a
simple thing a bluebell or a bit of yellow
broom. I have been thinking that perhaps
this autumn we might begin "
"Ob, no, grandfather," Maisrie interposed
at once. "That is impossible. You know
you have tbe American volume to do first.
"What a pity it would be," she went on,
with an insidious and persuasive gentleness
which the roung man had seen her adopt
before in humoring her grandfather, "if
someone else were to bring out a book on the
same subject before yon. You know no one
Understands it so thoroughly as you do,
grandfather; and with your extraordinary
memory you can say exactly what you re
quire; "so th t you could send over; and get
the materials you want without any
trouble."
"Very well, very well," the old man said,
curtly. ' "But we need not talk business at
such a time as this."
Now there was attached to-the "White
lose a rowing boat; and a very elegant row
ng boat it was, too, of varnished pine; and
by and by Vincent proposed to bis two
guests that they should get into the stern
eheets, and he would take a short pair of
sculls, and pull them up to the bridge, to
show them the other house-boats, and tbe
people, and the fnn of the fair generally.
"But wouldn't vou take the longer oars,"
said Maisrie, looking down into the shapely
gig, "and let me have one7"
"Oh, would you like that?" he said, with
eager delight. "Yes. by all means, it yon
care to row. It is a lizht boat though it's
long; you won't find it hard pulling. By
the way, I hunted about everywhere to get a
gondola lor you, and I couldn't."
"But who told you I had ever tried an
oar in a gondola?'' she asked, with a smile.
"Why, you yourself. Was I likely to
forget it?" he said, reproachfully.
And oh! wasn't he a proud roung man
when he saw this rare and radiant creature
clad all in white she was, save for a bunch
sf yellow king-cups in. her white sailor-hat
and a belt of dull gold satin at her waist
when he saw ber step down into the boat and
take her plsce,and put out the stroke-oar with
her prettily-shaped hands. Her grandfather
was already in the stern-sheets, in possession
of the tiller-ropes. When tbey moved off
into taid-stream it was very gently, for the
river was already beginning to swarm, and
he observed that she pulled as one accus
tomed to pulling, and with ease; while,
as he was responsible for keeping
time, they had nothing to be
ashamed of as they slowly moved
up the course. Indeed, they were only
paddling; sometimes tbey had to cull a halt
altogether, when there was a confusion, and
this not nnwelcome leisure they devoted to
an observation of the various crews jirls
in the liebtest of summer costumes, young
men in violent blazers or to a covert in
spection of the other house-hosts, with their
parterres and festoons of flowers, their huge
Japanese sunshades and tinted awnings, and
the brilliant groups of langbing and chat
ting visitors.
"Oh, Mr. Harris, do look isn't that a
pretty onel" Maisrie exclaimed, in an
undertone.
He glanced in the direction indicated, and
there beheld a very haudsome house-boat,
nil of rich-hued mahogany, its chief deoora
tion being flower boxes in bine tiles filled
.with marguerites. At the same instant he
found that a pair of eyes were fixed on him
eyes that wero familiar and the next mo
ment he knew that Mrs. Ellison, from the
upper deck of that mahogany house-boat,
was regarding him and his companions with
an intense enriosity. But so swift was her
nerntinv. and so imnatsive her face, that ere
be could guess at the result of her investiga
tion she had made him a formal little bow
and turned away to talk to ber friends.
Oi course, with one nana on the oar
he raised his hat with the other; but the
effect of this sudden recognition was to leave
him rather breathless and bewildered. It is
true, he had half expected her to be there;
but all the same he was not quite prepared;
and and he was wondering what she was
thinking now. However, the officials were
beginning to clear the course for the first
race; so the gig was run in behind one of tbe
tall white poles; and there the small party
of three remained until the rival crews had
gone swKtly by, when it was permitted them
to return to the White Bose,
After luncheon he said he wonld leave his
guests to themselves for a little while, as he
wished to pay a visit to a lriend he had seen
on one of tbe other house-boats; then he
jumped into the gig, made his way along to
the Villeggiatura, got on board, went up
the steps, and found himself among a crowd
of people. Mrs. Ellison, noticing him, dis
creetly left the group she was with, and
came to him, taking him in a measure apart
"Wait a moment, Vin," she said, regard
ing the yonng man. "If you wish it if
you prefer it I have seen nothing."
"What do you mean, aunt?" he said,
with some inclination to anger. "Why
should I seek any concealment? I want you
to come along that I may introdnce to yon
two friends of mine."
Instinctively she seemed to drawback a
little almost as if she were afraid.
"Ob, no; thanks, Vin. No, thanks. Please
leave me cut."
"Why?" he demanded.
The pretty yonng widow was embarrassed
and troubled; for she knew the fiery nature
of young men; and did not want to provoke
any quarrel by an unguarded expression.
''Well it is simply this, you know they
are strangers I mean I suppose that
neither your father nor any of the family
have met them tbey seemed somehow like
strangers unusual looking and and I
shouldn't like to be the first. Leave me
out. there's a good boy."
"Why?" he demanded again.
So she was driven to confession.
"Well, look here, Vin; I may be wrong,
but aren't tbese new friends somehow con
nected with your being so much away from
home of late with your being in those
lodgings? Was it there you made their ac
quaintance?" "If you want to know, I saw them first at
Lord Musselburgh's," said he with an
amazing audacity; for although tbe state
ment was literally true, U was entirely mis
leading. And apparently it staggered the pleasant
eyed young widow.
"Oh, at Loid Musselburgh's?" said she.
with a distinct (but cautious) change of
manner. "un,-rejiiy, iioro Jiusseltnrgh s.
Bat whv should you want to introduce me
to them," Vin?"
"Because," said he, "they have never met
any member of our family; and, as you are
the most good-natured aud the prettiest, I
want to produce a favorable impression at
the outset."
She laughed, and was not displeased.
"There are some other qualities that seem
to characterize our family impudence for
one," she observed. Well, come along,
then, Vin; where are your friends?"
"In a house-boat down there the White
Bose."
"The White Bose? I noticed it yesterday
very pretty whose is it?"
"Mine for'the present; I rented it for the
week," he replied.
"Who are the other members of your
party?"
"None only those two."
But here sne pansed at the top of the
steps; and said in an undertone
"Really, Vin, this is too much! You, a
voung man entertaining those two and no
lady chaperon "
He turned and looked at her with straight
eyes.
"Oh, it's quite right," she said, hastily.
"It's quite right, of course but but so
much en evidence so prominent people
might talk "
"I never try to hinder people from talk
ing," said he, with a certain scorn. "And
ittheybusythemselves with my small affairs,
tbey are welcome to ring their discoveries
from the tops of the steeples. I did not ask
anybody's permission when I invited two
friends of mine, who had never been to
Henley before, to be my guests during the
regatta week."
"Of course not, of course not," she said,
gently; "but you are doing it in such a
marked way "
"Come, come, aunl," saidhe, "it isn't like
you to niggle about notbing. You are not a
prude; you have too much good nature
and too much common sense. And I don't
want you to go on board the White Eose
with any kind of prejudice in yonrtnind."
They could not get away just then, how
ever, for the course was being cleared for
the race; so they lingered there until they
saw, far away on the open river, two small
objects like water insects, with slender
quick-moving legs, coming rapidly along.
The dull murmur of the crowd became
roar as the boats drew nearer. Then the
needle-like craft shot by, almost neck and
neck; and loud were the shouts that nheered
this one or that; while straining eyes fol
lowed them along the goal. The sudden
wave of enthusiasm almost immediately
subsided; the surface of the river was again
being crowded by the boats that had been
confined behind the white poles; and now
Vincent got his fair companion down into
the gig and, with some little difficulty and
delay, rowed her along to the White Rose.
He was very anxions as he conducted her
on board; but he affected a splendid care
lessness. "Mr. Bethune," said he, "Jet me Intro
duce you to my aunt, Mrs. Ellison Miss
Bethune, Mrs. Ellison now come away in
side, and we'll get some tea or strawberries
or something racing isn't everything at
Henley"
"It isn't anything at all, as far as I have
seen," said Mrs. Ellison, good-humoredly,
as she followed her nephew into the saloon.
"Well, this is very pretty very pretty in
deed one of the simplest and prettiest so
cool-looking. I hear this is your first visit
to Henley," she continued, addressing the
old man, when tbey had taken their seats:
Vincent meanwhile, bnstling about to get
wine and biscuits and fruit, for the steward
had gone ashore.
"It is," said he, "and I am glad that
my granddaughter has seen it in such
favorable circumstances. Although she
bas travelled much, I doubt whether she
has ever seen anything more charming,
more perfect in its kind. We missed the
Student's Serenade at Naples last year;
but that would have been entirely differ
ent, no doubt; but this is a vast water pic
nic, among English meadows, at the fairest
time of the year, and with such a brilliancy
ofcolorthattheeyeis delighted In every
direction."
He was self-possessed enough (whatever
their eagerly solio.tous young host may
have been); and be went on in a somewhat
lofty -and sententious fashion, to describe
certain of the great public festivals and
spectacles he had witnessed in various parts
of the world. Mrs. Ellison was apparently
listening, as she ate a Btrawberry or two;
but in reality she was covertly observing the
young girl (who sat somewhat apart) and
taking note of every line and lineament of
her features, and even every detail of
her dress. Vincent brought Mr. Bethune
tumbler of claret with a InmD of ice in it;
he drained a deep draught; and resumed his
story of pageants. Maisrie was silent, her
eyes averted; the young man asked himself
whether the beautiful profile, the fine nos
trils, the sensitive month, wonld not plead
for favor, even though she did not speak. It
seemed a thousand pities that her grand
father should be in this garrulous mood.
Why did not Mrs. Ellison turn to the .girl
direct? He felt sure there would be an in
stant sympathy between those two, if' only
Maisrie would appeal -with her wonderful
true eyes. What on earth did anyone want
to know about the resplendent appearance
cf the White Cuirassiers of tbe Prussian
Guard, as they rode into Prague a wek or
two after the battle of Koniggratz, with their
dustv and swarthy faces and their copper
hued" breastnlates'lit up by tbe westering
snn.
Bnt, on the other hand, Mrs. 'Ellison was
not displeased by this one-sided conversa
tion; quite the contrary; she wanted to
Vnnvr nil nhnnt these strange people with
whom her nephnew had taken np; and the
more the old man talked the better she re
sented tbe intervention of a race which Mas
ter Vin dragged them all away to see, and
as soon as it was over they were now
seated in the stern sheets of the boat she
turned to Mr. Bethune with a question.
"I understand," she said, in a casual sort
of way, "that you know Lord Mussel
burgh?" At this Maisrie looked up startled.
"Oh, yes," said her grandfather, in his
serene and stately fashion. "Oh, yes. A
most promising young man a yonng man
who will make his mark. Perhaps he is
riding too many hobbies; and yet it might
not be prudent to interfere and advise; a
yonng man in his position is apl to be .hot
headed" 'Mrs. Ellison," interposed Maisrie, "we
are only slightly acquainted with Lord
Musselburgh very slightly indeed. The
fact is, he was kind enongh to interest him
self in a book that my grandfather hopes to
bring out shortly."
"Oh, really," said the pretty widowwith
a most charming smile (perhaps she was
glad of this opportunity of talking to the
young lady herself) "and may I ask par
don my curiosity what the subject is.
"It is a collection of poems written by
Sotchmen living in America and Canada,"
answered Maisrie, quite simply. "My
grandfather made the acquaintance of sev
eral of them, and heard ot others; and he
thought that's volnme of extracts, with a
lew short biographical notices, might be in
teresting to the Scotch people oyer. here.
For it is about Scotland that they mostly
write, I think, and of their recollections
perhaps that is only natural."
"And when may we expect it?" was the
next question.
Maisrie turned to her grandfather.
"Ob, well," the old man made answer,
with an air of magnificent unconcern, "that
is difficult to say. The book, is not of such
great importance; it may have to stand aside
for a time. Tor one thing, I should most
likely have to return to the other side to
collect materials; whereas, while we are here
in the old country, there are so many oppor
tunities for research in other and more val
uable directions, that it would be a thousand
pities to neglect them. For example, now,"
he continued, seeing that Mrs. Ellison lis
tened meekly, "I hpve undertaken to write
for my friend Carmichael, oi tbe Edinburgh
Chronicle a series of papers on a branch of
our own family that attained to great dis
tinction in the Western Isles during the
reign of the Scotch Jameses tbe learned
Beatons, ot Islay and Mull."
"Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Ellison, affecting
much interest.
"Yes," resumed old George Bethune,
with much dignified complacency, "it will
be a singular history if ever I find time to
trace it out. Tne whole of that family seem
to have been regarded with a kind of super
stitious reverence; all their sayings were
preserved; and even now, whema proverb is
quoted in the Western Isles, they add 'as
the sage of Mnll said, or 'as the sage of Islay
said. For ullamh, I may inform you Mrs.
Mrs. "
''Ellison," she sard kindly.
"Mrs. Ellison I beg your pardon my
hearing is not what it was, Ullamh, in the
Gaelic tongue means at once a Doctor of
Medicine and a wise man "
''They distinguish between the terms in
English," put in Vincent
" and doctors most of them appear to
have been," continned the old man, quite
oblivions of interruption; indeed he seemed
to be leading something out of his memory,
rather than addressing particularly an) one
of his audience. "A certain Hector Beaton,
indeed, got a considerable grant in Islay for
having cured one of the Jame'ses when" all
the Edinburgh faculty had failed; and I my
self have seen in tbe island of Ionn the
tombitone of the last of tbe Mnll doctors of
the name, but be died so late as 1657. Hie
jacet Johannis Betonus Maclenorum familito
Medicus; no doubt there must be some men
tion of those Beatons in tbe archives of' the
various families of Maclean in Mull. Then
I daresay I could get a drawing of the
tombstone thongb I can remember the in
scription well enongh: Ecce cadit jaculo
victricis mortis iniqnss qui alios solverat
ipse mail. The coat of arms, too, has the
three mascles of the Bethunes "
"Ot the Bethunes? then you are of the
same family?" said Mrs. Ellison, this time
with a little genuine curiosity.
But the interruption had the effect of
rousing him from his historical reverie.
"I would rather say," he observed, with
some stiffness, "that they were originally of
our family. The Norman de Bethune
would easily be changed into the Scotch
Beaton."
"Then there was Mary Beaton, of the
Queen's Maries," Mrs. Ellison suggested.
But at this the old man frowned; he did
not wish any fictitious characters brought
into these authentic annals.
"An idle tale a popular rhyme," said
he. "There is no real fonndation for the
story ot Mary Hamilton that .ever I could
get hold of. Of course there may have been
a Mary Beaton at Queen Mary's court
what more likely? and MaryBeaton would
come trippingly ti the popular tongue in
conjunction with Mary Seton; but. that is
all. It is with real people, and important
people, I shall haVe to deal when I cet to
the Advocates Library in Edinburgh."
"Oh, yes, certainly of course I quite
understand," she said, humbly. And then
she rose. "Well, I must be getting back to
my friends, Vin, or tbey think I have
slipped over the side and been drowned."'
"Bnt won't you stay to dinner, aunt?"
said he. "I wish you wouldl"
"Oh, no, thanks, I really couldn't," she
answered, with a sudden earnestness that
became more intelligible to him afterward.
"I couldn't rnn away from my hosts like
that; what would they think of me?"
"They would never notice your absence,"
said he.
"Well, that is a pretty speech!"
"I'. mean among snch a crowd. Come;
our small party needs making up, while
they have got too many."
"I really daren't, Vin, it would be too
bad. Then she turned to Mr. Bethune and
his granddaughter. "By the wny," she
said, "Lord Musselburgh is comiug down
to-morrow merely for the day and he will
be on board the Villeggiatura. Would you,
all of you, like to come along and have a
look over the boat; or shall I send him to
yon to pay you it visit here?"
It was Maisrie who replied with perfect
sell-composure.
"Our acquaintance with Lord Mussel
burgh is so very slight, Mrs. Ellison," said
she. "that it would hardly be worth while
making either proposal. I doubt whether
he would even remember our names."
Whereupon the yonng widow bade good
by to Maisrie with a pretty little smile; the
old gentleman bowed to her with much
dignity; aud then she topk her seat in the
stern of the gig, while her nephew put out
the sculls. When they were well ont of
hesring, Mrs. Ellison said with a curious
look inker eyes of perplexity and half
frightened amusement
"Vin, who is that old man?"
"Well, you saw, aunt," he made answer.
"Oh, yes, I saw. I saw. Bnt I am none
the wiser. I conld not make him out at all.
Sometimes I thought be was a self-conceited
old donkey, who was simply gabbling at
random; and again he seemed really to be
lieve what he was saying, about his con
nection with those Beatons and de Bethunes
and the Scotch kings. But there's some
thing behind it all, Vin; I tell you there is;
and I can't make it out There's something
mysterious about him "
"There's nothing mysterious at all!" he
exclaimed impatiently.
"Bnt who is he then?" she persisted.
"What is he? Where is his family? Where
are his relatives?
"I don't think he has any, if It comes to
that, except his granddaughter," her nephew
replied.
"What does he do then? How does he
exist!"
He was beginning to resent this cross-examination;
but yet he said civilly enough
"I am not in the habit of making inquir
ies abont the income of every one I meet;
but I understand they have some small sum
of money between them not much; and
then he has published books, and be writes
for the Edinburgh Weekly Chronicle. Is that
enough?"
"Where does he live?"
"In Maylair."
"I don't believe a word of it," she said,
and she even ventured to laugh in a halt-
embarrassed way. "I believe he dwells in a
cave he is a troglodyte he comes ont at
dust and wanders about with a lantern and
a pickax. .Really, when I looked at his
shaggy eyebrows, and bis piercing eyes, and
his venerable beard, I thonght he must be
some Druid come back to life again or per
haps one of those mythical island doctors
surviving from the fourteenth century "
"At all events, aunt," Vincent said, with
an ominous distinctness of tone, "his age
and what he has come through might pro
cure for him a little respect. It isn't like
yon to jeer and jibe simply because a man is
old "
"My dear boy, I am not jibing and jeer
ing!" she protested. "I tell yon I am puz
zled. There's something about thatold man
I can't make out"
"How conld you expect to understand
anybody in half an hour's talk at Henley
Regatta!" he said, indignantly. "I gave
you the opportunity of getting to know them
both, if you had come along this evening,
and spent some time with them. I am not
aware that either of them wants to conceal
anything. They are not ashamed of their
poverty. Perhaps the old man talks toe
much; you, at least, pretend to find what he
said interesting. And as for the girl, no
doubt she was silent; she isn't used to be
stared at and examined by critical and un
sympathetic eyes."
The young widow elevated her brows;
here was something unexpected!
"Vin Harris," she said, solemnly, "are
you quarreling with me because because I
am not glamoured? Is it as bad as that?
If so, then I am extremely glad I did not
accept your invitation lor this evening. I
am compromised far enough already"
"What do yon mean by compromised?"
he demanded.
But just at this moment she had to call
to him to look ont, for they had almost ar
rived at the Villeggiatura. He glanced
over his shoulder, pulled a stroke with his
right oar, shipped the other, and then, hav
ing gripped the stern of the house boat, he
affixed the painter of the gig, and, letting
her back into tbe stream, returned to the
thwart he had occupied.
"I wish to ask you, aunt, said he, in a
sufficiently stiff and formal tone, "how you
consider you have been .compromised
through meeting any friends of mine."
"Oh," said she, half inclined to laugh,
vet a little bit afraid to, "don't ask me. It
isn't as serious as that I mean, I didn't
tbink vou wonld take it seriously. No
doubt it's all right, Vin, your choosing your
own friends, and I have notbing to say
against them; only I would rather you leit
me out, if you don't mind. You see, I
don't know your intentions "
"Supposing I have none?" he demanded
again.
"Well, no one can say whatmay happen,"
tne young wiuow persisiea; -ana j. snonia
not like to be appealed to Now, now, Vin,
don't be so passionate! bave I said a
single word against your new friends? Not
one. I fully confess that I'm a selfish and
comfort-loving woman, and I don't wish to
be drawn into any family strife. There
may be no family strife? Very well; so
much the better. But my having no further
acquaintance with Mr. Bethune and Miss
Betbnne my having no knowledge of them
whatever, for it practically comes to that
cannot injure them; and leaves me free irom
responsibility. Now, don't quarrel with
me, Vin; for I will not allow it; I have been
talking common sense to you but I sup
pose that is what no man of 25 understands."
He hauled up the gig to the stern of the
houseboat, as an intimation that she could
step on board when she chose.
"There," said she, as she gave him her
hand in parting, "I see I have offended yon;
but what I have said has been for your sake
as well as mine.'
Well, he was vexed, disappointed, and a
little inclined to be angry, Bnt all that
darkness fled from his spirit he forgot all
about Mrs. Ellison's friendly monitions
he had no care for any speculations as to the
future when he was back again in the
White Bose, sitting by Maisrie Bethune, he
and she together looking abroad on tbe gay
crowd, and the boats, and the trembling
willows, and the slow-moving skies now
growing warmer with the afternoon sun.
Then, when the last of tbe races was over,
came dinner; and as twilight stole over the
river and the meadows, the illuminations
began, the rows ot colored lanterns showing
one alter tbe other, like so many fire-flies in
the dusk. Of course they were sitting out
side now on this placid summer night in
fairyland.
I To be Continued Ifext Sunday.
HUHTHTOr WHITE-COATS,
Methods of the Atlantic Sealers That Cer
Inlnlr Approach Cruelty.
Kew York Tribune. J
The chorus of fear set up by the "white
coats" or Atlantic seals at the first signs of
the approach of a foe, is often the first Indi
cation hunters have of the presence of their
game. Soon, however, the black spots on
the ice appear in the distance, and the ship
is thrown at once into tbe wildest confusion.
Craftily, like a cat charming a bird, she
moves through tbe icefield, creeping along
until it is plain that the men can safely
reach their prey. Then she lays to, and at
once a swarm ot hunters, 290 or 300 of them,
spring upon the ice, and, with gaff and
knife, they rush at the "white-coats."
Tbe shouts ot the men, he low but never
ceasing grinding of the ice, like distant
thnnder rumbling in the sky, the infuriated
roars of the mother seal, and the terrified,
fiitilul cries of their cubs, for all the world
ike the sobbing of a child in distress, pro
duce a confusion of sounds that is dreadful
to hear.
It is the young seal, tbe cub, that was
born only from three to six weeks before,
that the hunters are after. Tht skin is then
in its finest condition. The coat is white
and almost fur-like, and the heavy lining of
fat directly under tbe skin by which the
carcass Is protected against the cold, con
tains its greatest percentage of oil. A
single blow with the gaff on the "white
coat's" nose is enough to stun and often to
kill him. That delivered, the hnnter whips
out his knife and in another second the skin
and fat are stripped away and the poor
little creature's carcass is left steaming,
bleeding and quivering on the ice.
Tbe Smnmer Resort BUI.
Guest at summer hotel (politely) Mr.
Landlord, will you oblige me by putting a
rope and pulley on this bill?
Landlord (amazed) Bope and pulley,
sir? What do you want with that?
Guest I want it for a fljg pole when I
get home. It's so high, don't you know.
SECEETS 0E SOCIETY.
What a Little Agitat'on of Wash
ington's Upper Crust Shows.
SKELETONS IN MANY CL0SBTS.
How Millionaire Tabor Took la .the Elite
of the Capital Citj.
C0MM0D0EB PORTER'S L0TE MAKING
rcoBaxsroxpexcx or thx pisrjiTCH.l
Washhtotok, August 9.
know it Is a sin
For me to sit here and
grin
At them here.
But the sham aristo
crat His blue blood and all
that
Are so queer.
Waahingfon socie
ty is trembling over
the possibilities that
maybe lurking un
der the thin veil of
,T,i,C the tapper Crust A
month ago one of our
dudes, who parted
his name in the mid
dle and who called
himself B. Shepherd
White, was the pet
ted of Senators' daughters and the boon
companion of Generals' sons. A few days
later he fled to Kentucky as a 6-cent de
faulter and was captured in the very pres
ence of two of our most brilliant society
girls. We imagined hishlood had the tinge
of tbe sky and we are horrified to find it
charged that his father was a Boston white
washer and that his most distinguished an
cestors ate their meat on the banks of the
Congo. He now rests in the Washington
jail and the fair ones who have corresponded
with him are lying awake at night wonder
ing whether their love letters will come for
ward in evidence. An effort will undoubt
edly be made to prevent his case coming to
trial, but such hopes are vain, and he will
probably wear a louder suit within a few
weeks than than he has yet had in his ward
robe. In other words he will go to the peni
tentiary. MISS portee's hotel waitee.
On tbe heels of this scandal comes the
marriage of Admiral Porter's grandniece to
one of the waiters of a Washington hotel,
and the story of how the loving conple met
at tbe seashore and how the knight of beef
steak and white apron by tidbits of soft
shelled crabs and soft cuts of tenderloin
wooed and won the fairest guest at his table.
is being rolled about over tbe tongues of
statesmen and their wives. They discuss it,
however, with fearful hearts, and ask them
selves as they look at their own danghters,
What next? '
Washington society is so constituted that
it is impossible to guard it like Ward McAl
lister's Four Hundred of New York, or like
the bon ton society oi any other city or vil
lage. Every season people change. Every
Congress a new batch of maidens and
a new set of hangers - on ap
pear on the scene, and every four
years a new administration tnrns the social
world topsy turvy and tbe old order gives
place to new. Under such conditions any
one can go into society. Tbe introduction
of a Senator or a Representative or a
politician is the opening wedge, and this in
these democratic days is free to all. There
have been noted ladies in Washington
society who had more blue blood than
money, and who for a consideration have
taken up ladies whose venous fluid was less
aristocratically colored and have pushed
them into the best of Washington society.
I know other people in Washington society
who rank here higher than they do at their
own homes.
EOUANCES OP -WASHIKGTOH.
Some romances of Washington society
have all tbe situations of a three-volume
novel. George Bancroft's daughter a year
or so ago trotted off on an elopement with
one of the descendants of Charles Carroll, of
Carrollton. There was, however, nothing
bad in this elopement and the old historian
was tickled to death over the match. Not
long ago a Senator's son was drowned in the
Fotoniao when out boating with a lady
friend, and the probability is that he died
by acoident The daughter of one of the
most noted men in the country died here
within the past five years. A bottle labeled
chloral was found in her room, and the evil
minded whispered that a love affair with a
foreign diplomat was ths cause of her over
dose. Another scandal relates to one ot our
own diplomats. His domestic troubles were
caused.Jnot by a hotel waiter, but by the
dudelikc clerk ofa snmmer boarding house.
From private letters irom Denver I learn
that Senator Tabor is making money right
along and that he will soon be in a position
to spend another fortune on politics. His
opera house brings him in over 150,000 a
year aud he is making money hand over fist
in buying aud selling mines. The beautiful
woman whom he brought to Washington as
his second wife is now the mother of a pretty
child, and the two live in Denver not lar
off from the rich Mrs. Tabor No. 1. Wash
ington society was badly taken in by Tabor.
WEEB TWO CEBESIONIES.
Senator Tabor came to Washington as a
millionaire from Colorado. No one knew
whether he was married or not and he was
generally looked upon as a bachelor or a
widower. Shortly after he took np his
quarters at Willard's Hotel, he gave out
that he was about to be married. He showed
the correspondent some wonderlul night
shirts embroidered with old lace, containing
double-breasted pockets, and it is my re
membrance that some of these cost $200
apiece. The day was fixed for the wedding.
A dinner was gotten up whieh wonld bave
been fit for Lucnllis, and a noted priest per
formed a ceremony. The most noted of our
Statesmen were present, and President Ar
thur bowed in his most courtly way when
he gave a rose to the bride.
Ail Washington sounded the praises of
Mrs. Tabor's beauty, and the people kept on
sounding them nntil they learned the story
of the marriage. Tabor had fallen in love
with Mrs. Doe while he was yet the hus
band of Mrs. Tabor No. 1. He had gotten
a divorce in a very questionable way audi
had been married, in a musty little law
office at St Louis, to ber several months
before this second great ceremony took
place at Washington. All Washington
thought it was the first marriage.
A BABE BEAUTY.
I don't think any more beautiful woman
than the second Mis. Tabor has ever ap
peared at Washington. I can see her now
as she sat in the Senate gallery one day
watching her black-haired husband trot irom
one Senator to another with an autograph
album as big as a Bible in his hand, getting
their signatures. She was dressed in black,
and she had a pair of diamonds in her ears
that were worth a fortune. They were great
solitaires, and they sparkled under the aolt
light of the Senate Chamber. These dia
monds, however, were no brighter than her
big, black eyes, and there was not a Senator
in the chamber below who did not now and
then steal glances at her. She has a warm,
rich, dark complexion. Her forehead is low,
her features regular and her form thatof the
Venus de Medici. I saw even George Fris
bie Hoar stealing sly winks at ber, and I
know tbat his blood jnmped at a quicker
pace through his, veins as he looked
She was, yon know, at this time, only
about hair Tabor's age and she had been
married before. Still when the wedding of
Tabor was announced she was spoken of in
the papers as Miss and had reassumed her
maiden name. After two divorces were
gotten they were married, and at the second
marriage here Tabor gave his bride a neck
lace which contained 50,000 worth of dia
monds. The day after the wedding he sent
out cards which were bound la silver three-
ff I
Km-
M
nm
quarters of an inch deep, and shortly after
this he blossomed out in tbat gorgeous coach
that outranked that of Attorney General
Brewster,
BEYEBSK OP THE PICTUBE,
I (The first Mrs. Tabor I saw not long ago at
Denver. She is by no means a bad looking
woman and you would know she is a lady
anywhere. She is apparently abont 45
years of age and she went out with Tabor to
the West in a wagon over the plains. 8he
took boarders and kept store and supplied
the feed for tbe prospectors who struck the
Little Pittsburg mine that made Tabor's
first fortune. When the suit was decided
she got a slice of Tabor's fortune as alimony
and this slice was worth perhans $300,000.
It has grown In value right along, and Mr.
Tabor is probably worth $1,000,000 to-day.
She has a good income and she is much re
spected in Denver. She lived with Tabor
for 20 years, and I am told that she has con
siderable charity for him to-day, and that if
he lost his fortune he might get a stake from
her to found another. I am sure that had
he stuck to her and brought heron to Wash
ington she would not have disgraced him.
This runaway match of Admiral Porter's
grandniece is to a certain extent the result
of heredity. The Porters have always been
bold in their love-making, and Commodore
David Porter, who was, I think, the father
of Admiral Porter, bulldozed his sweet
heart's family into allowing him to marry
his wife. Porter was a Commander at the
time, and Miss Evelina Anderson, tbe.
daughter of William Anderson, a rich mem
ber of Congress of Pennsylvania, was visit
ing at the navy yard. Evelina was only 15
years old, and she was playing with a doll
when Commander Porter met her.
BULLDOZED THE PAMIXY.
He fell head over ears in love with her
and straightway proposed. She referred
the matter to her father, though she wa
perfectly willing herself. The family, how
ever, did not think much of young Porter,
and Miss Anderson's brother, who was
thought to be a very brave young man, was
deputed to receive him and give him his
refusal. When Porter called he was re
ceived by this young man in the parlor and
was asked his business. Porter replied
that he had not come to see him, that he
wanted to see bis father, whereupon the
young brother jumped up and said: "Well,
sir, you've come on a fool's errand. My
father can't see you, and you cannot marry
my sister or be connected with this family.1
Commander Porter jnmped from his chair.
His eyes flashed fire, and he stepped up
toward young Anderson and said: "Sir, you
are meddling in a matter that does not con
cern you. I came here about marrying yonr
sister. I didn't come to marry yon, and if
you don't leave the room I'll throw you ont
of the window." The young man was de
cidedly frightened, and he went ont and
told his father that Porter would cut every
bodies throat if he didn't get the girl m
marriage. The result was that Father An
derson came in and got acquainted with
Porter. He liked him, and ppon their
wedding he gave the yonng couple a very
handsome residence. Admiral Porter is
authority for the above story.
Miss Gbtjitdt, Jb.
TBTOFLE-HUfllLNQ PIGS.
How the Animals Are Trained to Uncover
the Sncculent Plants.
Truffles, that are a popular dish in the
Old World, and are often served at high-cut
spreads in this country, are, like mush
rooms, a species of earth fnngi. They are
cryptogamio plants, and, subterranean in
their habits, their position beneath the soil
varying from 2 or 3 inches to 2 feet In depth.
They have no root, stem or leaf, and are of
diffierent shades of color, from light brown
to black. -They are more or less globular in
form, and vary in size from that of a filbert
to that of a large dnck's egg. Their surface
is knotty or warty and covered with a skin,
which forms a sort of net work of serpentine
veins.
In some parts of France Poitou and Per
igord, for instance pigs are trained for
truffle-bunting; and there need be no great
wonder at the employment of pigs in this
business, for these nearly omnivorons ani
mals are amongst the most keen-scented of
quadrupeds. The animals are muzzled so
they cannot eat the tempting morsels, and
thus they have their labor for their pains.
WHY GE0BGD2 DHOTI COME.
PnpaWaJei Was Afraid Sams American
Belle Would Capitrate Him.
Mew Tort World. J
It is positively asserted by an English
man of eminent official consideration in this
country that the failure of Prince George of
Wales to visit Newport was the result of a
direot prohibition from his father. It may
be remembered tbat some years ago a story
got into print according to which It was pro
posed to marry one of the young Princes to
an American heiress. The report was ab
surd upon its face, but it traveled and kept
persistently alive.
Probably no one in America believed it,
bnt in England it aroused a perfect howl of
indignation. The idea that wives for the
Princes could not be found at home set the
lighter-witted Britons, who will swallow
any fable to the discredit of America, fairly
crazy, especially as it cams directly upon
the marriages of a number of titled or so
cially prominent Englishmen with Ameri
cans of money, to the desolation of a good
many English girls without that desirable
commodity. So violent did the expression
of popular opinion on the subject become
that the court found it actually expedient
to authorize what amounted to an official
denial of it in order to seenre its own peace
of mind.
It is to avoid another snch explosion, says
this authority, tbat an interdict was placed
by the Prince ot Wales npon his son's ac
ceptance of the wild hnrrab-of hospitalities
with which the loyal Americans o Newport
proposed to receive him. It was not leared
that some American girl wonld capture the
Prince and elope with him, bnt it was an
ticipated thst the mere fact of bis accepting
tbese American attentions would give the
anti-American party in England an excuse
for a hew and annoying outbreak against
the court, and arouse the opposition party in
the colonies to vindictive lury.
FREDERICK itr GREAT.
Cnrlons ProvUIon for the Disposal of fill
'Bemnlni Found In a Will.
In the first volume of the "Wars of Fred
erick the Great," just published in Ger
many, there is the following will written by
Frederick during the first Silesian war in
1741: "I am only King so long as I am
.free. If they kill me I wish my body to be
burnt in Boman fashion and my ashes to be
inclosed in an urn st Bheinsberg. In this
case Kuobelsdorf (his architect) shall con
struct a monument for me like that of Hor
ace at Tusculum."
Trained Figt Hooting Up Truffles.
A GLANCE BACKWARD
The Lessons of an Eye-Straining Into
. the' Misty Past Before
TRADITION OR HISTORY BEGAN.
Individuals Dwindle to Hothinjr in the
Perspective of Time.
A CLETBK GIRL'S POINT OP YIEW.
rwmim tor nra cisr.iTCB.1
All the world Is' covered thick with the
dust of ages. What of that? Nothing; only
thedust'of ages much of it is the dust of
dead people. In dry weather we sprinkle
the ground to keep down the dust of remote
ancestors. In wet weather we wade through
mad compounded of forgotten generations.
We are curionsly thoughtless of all that
We fence in our cemeteries and protect the
graves there with reverent care. The man
who carelessly steps on a sodded mound
feels that he has desecrated the home of tbe
dead. Yet he will tramp for miles along
roads and across fields with never a thought
of the mortality beneath him.
Plenty of people are afraid to live near
or even to pass throngh, a grave yard be
cause of possible ghosts. If ghosts rise
from graves, think of the disembodied In
dians and Mound Builders likely to exhale
from every cellar in America! We moral
ize over the skull of poor Yorick, because it
happens to have kept its shape. But when
the dead Caesar has turned to clay we plas
ter up a crack with him, never bothering
onr brains about the wonderful man he used
to be. Well, that is as it should be. It is
natural, inevitable and very desirable. For
there would be small cheer in life for any of
us if we had to keep thinking of the dead
people who count up the largest total of the
human census. There are so many of them
that we never could think of anything else
If we thonght much of them. And in com
fortably forgetting them we may justify
ourselves, if we choose, with this reflection.
A thousand years from now our posterity
will he dealing with us precisely as we are
dealing to-day with those old ancestors of
ours.
Beyond Tradition's Grasp.
That fact, if we wonld consider it, wonld
help us to a point of view from which we
might see many curious things. As we are
to-day so was every man, woman and child
a thousand or a million years ago. At
least, allowing fontbe eras of barDarism
sandwiched in between civilizations, a
goodly proportion of forgotten humanity has
been such as we are. Every individual of
every generation had his life tragedy and
comedy and romance, as we have. Every
one ot tnem held himself as important as
any of us. Every one of them aspired and
grieved, and loved and hated, and hoped
and despaired, and rejoiced and suffered
jnst as we do. When one of them pros
pered he thought the world was advancing
and growing much better. When one of
them failed in his purposes he thought the
world was going to the dogs.
And the world has kept calmly on with
its spinning, and has forgotten all abont
them. Multitudes of them were very wise
and very great. Other multitudes were de
structively crazy and phenomenally bad.
All of them figure now simply as indistinct
i.ictors in tne world's great average. As in
dividuals tbey left not a trace in the dust
that overlays the earth. History is a very
modern aflair; tradition is only a little
older. Stretching away beyond the farthest
and faintest mile-stone tradition set up be
fore history began its measurements, is a
vast desert of human life and human inter
est of which we have no geography at all.
History names a few near-by mountains for
us. Tradition hints at a few a little farther
off. Beyond tbem are fog and mystery.
Had the world of men no greatness, then, in
that forgotten past? Men as imperial as
Caesar lived and ruled, we may be sure.
But we know nothing of them. Even tra
dition had forgotten them before our tradi
tions began.
History Doesn't Tell All.
In the later times that history deals with,
history puts us off with scraps. There was
plenty of greatnesss only a little less than
the greatest But the men who were less
than Antony, and the women who were less
than Cleopatra might as well have been
pigmies for all their power to impress us.
We simply know nothing about them.
Even those whose names the world still
continues to conjure with, have left but a
shrunken record. Moses was a man of
some account So was Plato. So was Paul.
Take the recorded history of all three; add
tbe written words they contribnted to the
permanent wisdom of tbe race, and the sum
total will be something less than the official
record of one short session of Congress; con
siderable less than the literature of one
political campaignl Probably not more
than one or two men in the present Congress
might conscientiously declared the peers
of Moses or Plato or Paul; but look at the
relative amount of space to-day's politician
fills in to-day's field of vision!
So the wholesome reflection is suggested
to ns that we are all in a manner subject to
the point of view. Close at hand we are all
fellows of a goodly size. The greatest among
ns will grow small as tbey fall into per
spective; and by the time there is perspective
enough to justify a picture of onr time those
less than the greatest will have quite disap
peared behind tbe vanishing point And
the picture will not be crowded.
It is worth while to stop and tbink on
that fact just lor a moment There is
wholesome correction in the thought that
our descendants, many generations in the
lnture, will not care a fig whether we were
elected or deleated; whether we moved in
tbe first circles or the tenth; whether we got
everything we wanted or only a very little
of it; whether such persons as
we ever existed at all or not
There is turther wholesome correc
tion in tbe thought that it we can look
back upon ourselves trom the standpoint
of those same descendants, jre shall care
very little more than they. THe gray-haired
man, in thinking of his childhood, smiles
in half contemptuous pity at tbe foolish little
fellow be used to be. He wonders how those
griefs and joys, those pains and ecstacies,
those triumphs and defeats of infancy conld
ever have been so important to him. They
were only trifles. In a still later stage of
bis immortality, ii he can remember these
years as he now remembers those, he will
smile again at much of the childishness
which now possesses him.
"Looking Backward.
All this is rather humbling, no doubt,
but there is no use in trying to push it to
one,side. It is simply the conclusion oi
cold and implacable lacts, and will not be
pushed to one side; We may shut our eyes
and turn our backs, but that wiil make no
difference. The facts aud the conclusion
will be there just the same. Perhaps the
more sensible thing to do would be to ac
cept tbe standpoint of the future and make
it to some extent at least, the standpoint of
'the present What a revision of life
codes there would be if that were done!
Men and women wonld modify their
standards to such a degree tbat life would
be even better worth living than it is now.
For there are plenty ot things in the com
pass, of every human life well worth taking
accoant of no matter whether prosperity
or even cotemporaries take account ot
them or not The point is to change the
focus so that the really important matters
shall be estimated at Uheir fnll value, and
tbe trifling matters shall be seen as trifles.
Such a change as tbat would upset affairs in
a very interesting fashion!
4 Among the iriends of a certain yonng
woman a little story is whispered in the
strict confidence of a.ternoon tea gatherings.
It is a very simple' little lore story, and as
such may be interesting. Whether it ha
any bearing on what' I have here written
depends a good deal on tbe point of view
from which it is regarded. The yonng
woman in question is not by any means
poverty stricken. Indeed she "has a good
deal of money, all her own. She was born
into what Is called a good social position
and holds it with such grace that nobody
envies her, while everybody admires her.
She is not remarkably beautiful. She is
just a wholesome, pure-hearted, clear-minded
American girl, having plenty of the
ideas that ought to belong to such a girl.
Somewhere, in this country or in Europe, a
foreign aristocrat made her acquaintance
she did not make his. After due inquiry in
proper quarters as to her bank accoant he
took counsel of his heart and found that ha
was greatly in love with this young girl.
So he followed her home and offered to bay
her. '
Bqnnro Enough on His Side.
In other words he proposed to take her
money and her, giving in return the title
which he had inherited. This was a per
fectly fair offer from his point of view. Ha
would give the only thing of any worth ha
possessed. He would receive the money ha
needed, and as the transaction could not ba
completed withont tbe girl, why he was
willing to take the girl also. So far ths
story lacks flavor of originality. There is
hardly a city in the land that cannct pro
duce the mate to it. Here is the variation:
The girl did not accept the offer made by
this peddler of worthless goods. She de
liberately, and with some emphasis, rejected
this opportunity for a "brilliant marriage."
She might have stunned the senses of
sober people by a fashionable wedding.
She might have enjoyed the rapture of see
ing a church crowded in her honor by vul
gar people who would fight for places, and
who wonld stand up on the backs of pews
to behold the spectacle of her marriage.
She might have enjoyed the further rapture
of knowing that she was, by purchase and
sufferance, the possessor of a petty minor
title. But she would none of it She did
not even spend any effort in finding out
whether the title was genuine. She simply
did not want the man, and therefore ha
might have offered her half a dozen titles,
each one a dozen times more impressive
than the one he did offer her, and she would
not have accepted them with him as an in
cumbrance. A rather significant departure,
that from the routine we have become sadly
accustomed to.
The Accepted Suitor.
The friends of this whimsical young
woman had not yet done protesting against
her decision, or applanding it, according to
their bent, before she gave them fresh causa
to exclaim. She had refused to make a
"brilliant marriage," but she had no notion
of not making any marriage at all. The
breath of the worldly-wise or unwise was
quite taken away from them by the an
nouncement that the girl was to be married
after all. Sne had refused a foreigner who
offered her a title, and yet she had accepted
a native of her own city who had not even
the highest social position. True, the for
tunate yonng fellow was as manly a man
and as goodly a man as one might wish to
see. His morals were good, he had keen
intelligence, his reputation was withont a
blemish and his spiritual and physical per
fections were many. So far as he himself
was concerned he was worthy to be the hus
band, even of this young woman, and that
was saying a great deal.
But a marriage with him would be a
rather disappointing misalliance for the
girl who might have been a High Mighti
ness in Bulgaria. You see, he and others,
could just remember seeing his grandfather
in the process of gaining an honest liveli
hood by driving a team; whereas it is a well
known fact that only those people are quita
well born who cannot remember such things
about their grandfathers. So this young
man lacked high birth. Indeed he bad
nothing to offer bis lady love bnt himself,
his honest affection and a very moderate
amount of this world's goods.
And yet she accepted bim. What on
earth conld she be thinking of? Perhaps
she was thinking of the real value of things.
Perhaps she was thinking ot how this trans
action would seem to her 1,000 years hence;
or even 10 years hence; or even six months
hence! James C. Pubdy.
BIRTH OF THS UDTT JTJ1EP.
A Traveler Initiated a Farmer Who Forth
irlth Drnnk Himself to Death.
St. Lonls Keimbllc
Mint juleps are the most refreshing bey
eragenown to modest drinkers this very
warm weather. There is much demand for
tbe essence of the sweet-smelling leaf, but of
all those who smack their lips after tasting
the delicious mixture there are few that
know the origin of tbe very pleasing drink.
Some years ago when passing by a farm in
the State of Kentucky, a traveler stopped
at the farmer's honse on the road side and
getting off his horse asked the smiling old
lord ot the big estate if he could have a
glass of water.
"Why, yes," was the reply, "and maybe
yon wonld not object to a little of the good
old stuff in it."
"Not a bit, my friend," answered the trav
eler, and away the old man went to supply
the wants of the weary rider. While on his
mission of charity tbe traveler's nasal organ
came in contact with the sweet odor that
emanated from a large bed of mint in the
adjoining kitchen garden, and on being
given a glass of clear spring water with a
bumper of "genuine old grog" thrown In,
he asked his benefactor if be wonld not
kindly give him a bunch of the mint He
got it and dipped it into his glass several
times until nicely flavored and then drank.
The old gentleman was surprised and
asked what in the name of heaven he had
done that for, to which the thankful trav
eler replied by asking if he would permit
him to mix one for him. The farmer con
sented, and after drinking smacked his lips
and said, "Grand." The traveler continued
his way after thanking his host for the hos
pitality shown him, having mixed the first
mint julep heard of.
Four years later he passed the same way
again and stopped at the same old farmer's
house for a glass of water. Instead of his
old lriend he was met at the door by an old
lady wearing a nicely-hordered cap. aiay
I bave a glass of water, ma'am!" asked the
traveler. "Certainly,'' was the kind reply.
"But where is your husband," asked the
stranger as he drank a glass of plain water.
"Well, you see, sir, about four years ago a
stranger passed this way and taught my poor
husband how to drink his whisky with grass
in it He never drank his whisky after that
without grass in it and when the grass gave;
ont he died."
KEEPS WEIL TO THE FOBS.
Sirs. James G. Blaine, Jr., One of the Raffs
Ine Imdlea of Saratoga.
MewTorkTVorla.
Although Mrs. James G. Blaine, Jr., hat
only been in Saratoga a matter of two or
three weeks she is already one of the most
familiar and attractive features of life at
the springs. After dinner in the afternoon
she is to be seen on the piazza overlooking
Broadway, watching the moving panorama
of the avenue with eager and interested
eyes. Surely it is a delightful change to
this charming woman after an entire winter
spent within the four walls of a. sick room,
whose monotony was only varied by the con
sultation of physicians and the operations
they felt called upon to perform.
Mrs. Blaine tells me tbat she expects that
another operation will be necessary, and
this will be accomplished some time in De
cember, after the return of Dr. BnIL It is
to be hoped that this operation will restore
her rheumatic limb to its normal coodition,
and that ultimately she will regain her
strength.In the meantime Saratoga simplv
has done wonders for her. She has gained
something like 12 pounds since her arrival,
and her face has taken on a roundness and a
dainty color tbat have long been absent
from it
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