"!3pps "WW' w8y r vv-'T f wr w 'V 18 inc through therecords as telegraph poles fly past the traveler. Maisie listened and nodded her head. The histories of strife a.id privation did not move her a hair's breadth: At the end of each canto he would conclude, "And that cave me some notion of handling color," or light, or what ever it might be that he set ont to pursue and understand. He led her breathless across half the world, speaking as he had never snoken in his life before. And in the flood-tide of his exaltation there came upon him a great desire to pick up this maiden who nodded her head and said, "I under stand. Go on," to pick her up and to carry tier away with him, because she was Maisie, and because she understood, and be cause she was his right, and a woman to be desired above all women. Then he checked himself abruptly. "And so I took all I wanted," he said, "and I had to fight for it Now you tell." Maisie's tale was almost as gray as her dress. It covered years of patient toil backed by savage pride that would not be broken though dealers laughed, and fogs delayed work, and Kami was ikind and even" sarcastic, and girls in other studios were painfully polite. It had a few bright spots pictures accepted at provincial exhi bitions but it wound up with the oft-rc-pcated wail, "And so you sec, Dick, I had no success, though I worked so hard." Then pity filled Dick. Even thus had Maisie spoken when she could not hit the breakwater, hair an hour before she had kissed him. And that had happened yes terday. "Sever mind," said he. "I'll 'tell you something, if you'll believe it." The words were shaping themselves oi their own ac cord. "The whole thing, lock, stock and barrel, isn't worth one big yellow sea-poppy below Fort Keeliug." Maisie flushed a litte. "It's all very well for you to talk, but you've had the success and I haven't." "Let me talk, then. I know you'll un derstand. Maisie dear, it sounds a bit ab surd, but those ten years never existed, and I've come back again. It really is just the same. Can't you see? You're alone now and I'm alone. "What's the use of worry ins? Come to me instead, darling." Maisie poked the gravel with her parasol. They were silting on a bench. "1 under stand." she said, slowly. "But I've got my work to do and I must do it." "Do it with me, then, dear. I won't inter rupt." ".No, I couldn't It's my work mine mine mine! I've becu alone all my life in myself, and I'm not going to belong to anybody except myself. I remember things as well as you do, but that doesn't count. We were babies then, and we didn't know what was before us. Dick, don't be selfish. I think I see my way to a little success next year. Don't take it away from me." "I beg your pardon, darling. It's mv lault for speaking idiotically. I can't ex pect you to throw up all your life just be cause I'm back. I'll go to my own place and wait a little." "But, Dick. I don't want you to go out of mv life, now that you've just come bact." "I'm at your orders. Forgive me." Dick devoured the troubled little face with his eyes. There was triumph in them, because he could not conceive how Maisie could re fuse sooner or later to love him, since he loved her. "It's wrong of me," said Maisie, more slowly than before, "it's wrong and selfish; but oh, I've been so lonely ! No, you mis understand. Jow I ve seen you again it a absurd, but I want you to keep it in my life." "Naturally. We belong." "We don't; but you always understood me, and there is so much in my work that you could help me in. You know things and the ways of doing things. You must." "I do, I fancy, or else I don't know my self. Then I suppose you won't care to lose sight of me altogether, and you want me to help yon in your work?" "Yes; but remember, Dick, nothing will ever come of it. That's why I feel so self ish. Let things stay as they are. I do want your help." "You shall have it But let's consider. I must see your pics first, and overhaul your sketches, and find out about your tenden cies. Yon should see what the papers say about my tendencies. Then I'll give you good advice, and vou shall paint according. Isn't that it, Maisie?" Again there was unholy triumph in Dick's eye. "It's too good of you much too good. Because you are consoling yourself with what will never happen, and I know that, and yet I wish to keep you. Don't blame me later, please." "I'm going into the matter with my eyes open. Moreover, the Queen can do no wrong. It isn't your selfishness that im presses me. It's your audacity in proposing to make use of me." "Pooh! You're only Dick and a print shop." "Very good. That's all I am. But, Maisie, you believe, don't you, that I love you? I don't want you to have any false notions about brothers and sisters." Maisie looked up for a moment and diopped her eyes. "It's absurd, but I believe. I wish I could send you away before you get angry with me. But but the girl that lives with me is red-haii ed, and an impressionist, and all our notions clash." "So do ours, I think. Never mind. Three months from to-day we shall be laughing at this together." Maisie 6hook her head mournfully. "I knew you wouldn't understand, and it will only hurt you more when you find out Look at my face, Dick, and tell me what 30 u see." They stood up and faced each other for a moment. The fog was gathering, and it stifled the roar oi the traffic of London be yond the railings. Dick brought all his painfully acquired knowledge of faces to bear on the eyes, mouth and chin under neath the black velvet toque. "It's the same Maisie, and it's the same me," he said. "We've both nice little wills of our own, and one or other of us has to be broken. Now about the future. I must come and see your pictures some day I suppose when the red-haired girl is on the premises." "Sundays are my best times. You must come on Snndayt. There are such heaps of things 1 want to talk about and ask your advice about Now I must get back to work." "Try to fiud out before next Sunday what I am," said Dick. "Don't take my word for anything I've told ycu. Goodby, dar ling, and bless you." Maisie stole away like a little gray mouse. Dick watched her tiil she was out of sight, but he did not hear her say to herself very soberly "I'm a wretch a horrid, selfish wretch. But it's Dick, and Dick will understand." No one has yet explained what actually happens when an irresistible force meets the immovable post, though manv have thought deeply, even as Dick thought. He tried to assure himself that 3Iaisie would be led in a few weeks by his mere preseuce and dis course to a better way of thinking. Then be remembered much too distinctly her face ind all that was -written on it "If I know anything of heads," he said, 'there's everytidng in that face but love. I aall have to nut that in myself; and that hiii and mouth won't be won for uothing. ut she's right She knows what she wants, id she's .going to get it What iiibolencel e! Of all the people in the wide world, to ewe! But llwn slip's Maisie. There's no liug over that fact; and it's good to see r.gain. This business must have been tnerinc at the back of my head for years. She'll use uie as I used Binat at Port J. She's quite right. It will hurt a ie. 1 shall have to see her every Sun- like a young man courting a house- d. She's sure to come round; and yet : mouth isn't a yielding mouth. I shall vautmg to kiss her all the time, and I II have t look at her pictures I don't n know what sort oi work she does yet I shall have to talk about Art man's Art! Therefore, particularly and petuaUy, damn all varieties of Art. It me a good turn once, and now it's in way. I'll go home and do some Art" ialf way to the stndio, Dick was smitten a a terrible, thought The figure of a tary womau iu the fog suggested it She's all alone in London with a red- Ji. haired impressionist girl, who probably Jias the digestion of an ostrich. Most red-haired people hsve. Maisie's a bilious little body. They'll cut like loue women raealt at a'll hours and tea with all meals. 1 remember how the students in Paris used to pig'along. She may fall ill at any minute, and I shan't be able to help. Whewl this is ten times worse than owning a wife." Torpenhow came into the studio at dusk, and looked at Dick with his eyes full of the austere love that springs up between men who have tugged at the same oar together and are yoked by custom and use and the intimacies of toil. This is a good love, and, since it allows, and even encourages, strife, recrimination, and the most brutal sincerity, does not die, but increases, and is proof against any absence and evil conduct Dick was silent after he handed Torpen how the filled pipe of council. He thought of Maisie and her possible needs. It was a new thing to think of anybody but Torpen how, who could think of himself, ttlere at last was an outlet for that cash balance. He could adorn Maisie barbarically with jewelry a thick gold necklace round that little neck, bracelets upon the rounded arms, and rings of price upon her hands the cool temperate ringlcss hands that he had taken between his own. It was an ab surd thought, lor Maisie would not even allow him to put one ring on one finger, and she would laugh at golden trappings. It would be better to sit with her quietly in the dusk, his arm around her neck and her face ou his shoulder as befitted husband and wife. Torncnhow's boats creaked that night, and his strong voice jarred. Dick's brows contracted and he murmured an evil word, because he had taken all his success as a right and part pavment for past discomfort, aud now he was checked in his stride by a woman who admitted all the success and did not instantly care for him. "1 say, old man," said Torpehow, who had made one or two vain attempts at con versation, "I haven't put your back up by anything I've said latelv, have I?" "You! No. How could you?" "Liver out of order ?" "The truly healthy man doesn't know he has a liver. I'm only a bit worried about things in general. I suppose it's my soul." "The truly healthy man doesn't know he has a soul. What business have you with luxuries of that kind?" "It came of itself. Who's the man that says that we're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas oi misunderstanding?" "He's right, whoever he is except about the misunderstanding. I don't think we could misunderstand each other." The blue smoke curled back from the ceiling in clouds. Then Torpenhow, insinu atingly "Dick, is it a woman?" "Be hanged if it's anything remotely re sembling a woman; and if you begin to talk like that I'll hire a red-brick studio with white paint trimmings, and begonias and petunias and blue Huugarias to play among thrce-and-sixpenny pot-palms, and I'll mount all my pics in aniline dye plush plasters, and I'll invite every woman who yelps and maunder s and moans over what her guide books tell her is art, and you shall receive 'cm, Torp in a snuff-brown velvet coat with yellow trousers and an orange tie. You'll like that" "Too thin, Dick. A better man than you denied with cursing and swearing ou a memorable occasion. You've overdone it. just as he did. It's no business of mine, of course, but it s comlorting to thine that somewhere under the stars there's saving up for vou a tremendous thrashing. Whether it'll come from heaven or earth, I don't know, but it's bound to come and break you up a little. You want hammering." Dick shivered. "All right," said he. "When this island is disintegrated it will call for you." "I shall come round the corner and help to disintegrate it some more. We're talk ing nonsense. Come along to a theater." Some weeks later, on a very foggy Sun day, Dick was returning across the park to his studio. "This," he said, "is evidently the thrashing that Torp meant It hurts more than I expected; but the queen can do no wrong; and she certainly has tome notion of drawing." He had just finished a Sunday visit to Maisie always under the green eyes of the red-haired impressionist girl whom he learned to hate at sight and was tingling with a keen sen.e ol shame. Sunday after Sunday, putting on his best clothes, he had walked over to the untidy house north ot the Park, first to see Maisie's pictures, and then to criticise and advise upon them as he realized that they were productions on which advice would not be wasted. Sunday after Sunday, and his love grew with each visit, he had been compelled to cram his heart back trom between his lips when it prompted him to kiss Maisie several times and very much indeed. Sunday after Sunday, the head above the heart had warned him that Maisie was not yet attainable, and that It would be better to talk as connectedly as possible upon the mysteries oi the craft that was all in all to her. Therefore it was his fate to endure weekly torture in the studio built out over the clammy back garden of a frail aud stuffy little villa, where nothing was ever in its right place, and nobody ever called to endure and to watch Maisie mov ing to and fro with the teacups. He ab horred tea, but since it save him a. little longer time in her presence he drank it de voutly, and the red-haired girl sat in an un tidy heap and eyed him without speaking. She was always watching him. Once, aud only once, when she had lsft the studio, Maisie showed him an album that held a few poor cuttings from provincial papers the briefest of hurried notes on some of her pictures sent io outlying exhibitions. Dick stooped and kissed the paint-smudged thumb on the open page. "Oh, my love, my love," he muttered, "do you value these things? Chuck 'cm into the waste-paper basket!" "Not till I get something better," said Maisie, shutting the book. Then Dick, moved by no respect for his public and a very deep regard for the maiden, did deliberately propose, in order to secure more ot these coveted cuttings.that he should paint a picture which Maisie should sign. "That's childish," said Maisie, "and I didn't think it of you. It must be my work. Mine mine minel" "Go and design decorative medallions for rich brewers' honses. You are thoroughly good at that" Dick was sick and savage. "Better things than medallions, Dick," was the answer, in tones that recalled a gray-eyed atom's fearless speech to Mrs. Jennett Dick would have abased himself utterly, bnt that the other girl trailed in. Next Suuday he laid at Maisie's feetsmall gifts of pencils that could almost draw ot themselves, and colors in whose permanence he believed, and he was ostentatiously at tentive to the work in hand. It demanded, among other things, an exposition of the faith that was in him. Torpenhow's hair would have stood 011 end had he heard the fluency with which Dick preached his own gospel ot art. A month before, Dick would have been equally astonished, but it was Maisie's will aud pleasure, and he drjgged his words to gether to make plain to her comprehension ail that had been hidden to himselt of the whys and wherefores of work. There is not the least difficulty in doing a thing if you only know how to do it; the trouble is to explain vour method. "I could put this right if I had a brush In my hand," said Dick, despairingly, over the modeling of a chin that Maisie complained would not "look flesh," it was the same chin that she had scraped out with the palette-knife, "but I find it almost iniDOS- sible to teach you. There's a queer grim- juutcn ioucii aoout your painting that 1 like; but I've a notion that you're weak in drawing. You foreshorten as though you never used the model, and you've caught Kami's pasty way of dealing with flesh iu shadow. Then, again, though you don't know it yourself, you shirk hard work. Suppose you spend some of your time on line alone. Line doesn't allow of shirking. Oils do, and three square inches of flashy tricky stuff in tbe corner of a pic sometimes carry a bad thing off as I know. That's immoral. Do line-work for a little while, and then I can tell more about your powers, as old Kami used to say." Maisie protested; she did not care for the pure line. "I know," said Dick. "You want to do your fancy heads with a bunch nfflower at the base of the neck to hide bad modeling." The red-haired girl laughed a little. "You want to do landscapes with cattle knee-deep in grass to hide bad drawing. You want to do a great deal more than you can do. You have sense of color, but you want form. Color's a gift put it aside and think no more about it but form yon can be drilled into. Now, all your fancy heads and some of them are very good will keep you exactly where you are. With line you must go forward or backward, and it will show up all your weaknesses." "But other people " began Maisie. "You mustn't mind what other people do. If their souls were your soul, it would be different You stand and fall by your own work, remember, and it's waste of time to think of anyone else in this battle." Dick paused, and the longing that had been so resolutely put away came back into his eyes. He looked at Maisie, and the look asked as plainly as words, was it not time to leave all this barren wilderness of canvas and counsel, and join hands with Life and Love? Maisie assented to the new programme of schooling so adorably that Dick could hardly restrain himself from picking her up then and there and carrying her off to the nearest registrar's office. It was the im plicit obedience to the spoken word and the blank indifference to the unspoken desire that baffled and buffeted his souL He held authority in that house, authority limited, indeed, to one-half of one afternoon in seven, but very real while it lasted. Maisie had learned to appeal to him on many subjects, iromthe proper packing of pictures to the condition of a smoky chimney. The red h aired girl never consulted him about any thing. On the other band, she accepted his appearances without protest, and watched him always. He discovered that the meals of the establishment were irregular and fragmentary. They depended chiefly on tea, pickles and biscuit, as he had suspected from the beginning. The girls were supposed to market week and week about, but they lived, with the help of a charwoman, as casually as the young ravens. Maisie spent most of her income on models, and the other girl revelled in apparatus as refined as her work was rough. Armed with know ledge dear-bought from the Docks, Dick warned Maisie that the end of semi-starvation meant the crippling of power to work. which was considerably worse than death. Maisie took the warning, and gave more thought to what she ate and drank. When his trouble returned upon him, as it gener ally did in tbe long winter twilights, the remembrance of that little act of domestic authority and his coercion with a hearth- brush of the smoky drawing-room chimney stung Dick like a whip-lash. He conceived that this memory would be the extreme of his sufferings till, one Sun day, the red-haired girl announced that she would make a study of Dick's head,, and that he would be good enough to sit still, and quite as an afterthought look at Maisie. He sat because he could not well reluse, and for the space of half an hour he reflected on all the people in the past whom he bad.Iaid open for the purposes of his own craft He remembered Binat most distinct ly that Binat who had once been an artist and talked about degradation. It was the merest monochrome roughing iu of a head, but it presented the dumb waiting, the longing, and above all the hopeless enslavement of the man, in a spirit of bitter mockery. "I'll buy it," said Dick, promptly, "at your own price." "My price is too high, but I daresay you'll be rs gratelul if " The wet sketch fluttered from the girl's hand and fell into the ashes of the studio stove. When she picked it up it was hopelessly smudged. "Oh, it'sall spoiled !" said Maisie. "And I never saw it Was it like?" "Thank you," said Dick under his breath to the red-hairod girl. And he removed himself swiftly. "How that man hates met" said the girl. "And how he loves you, Maisie!" "What nonsense! I know Dick's very fond of me, but he has his work to do, and I have mine." "Yes, he is fond of -you, and I think he knows there is something in impressionism, after all. Maisie, can't yon see? "See? See what?" "Nothing; only, I know thai if I could get any man to look at me as (hat man looks at you, I'd I don't know what I'd do. But he hates me. Oh, how he hates me!" She was not altogether correct Dick's hatred was tempered with gratitude for a few moments, and then he forgot the girl entirely." Only the sense of shame re mained, and he was nursing it across'the park in the fog. ''There'll be an explosion one of these days" he said, wrathfully. "But it isn't Maisie's fault; she's right, quite right, ns far as she knows, and I can't blame her. This business has been going on for three mouths, nearly. Three mouths! and it cost me ten years' knocking about to get at the notion, the merest raw notion, of my work. That's true; but then I didn't have pins, drawing-pins and palette-knives, stuck into me every Sunday. Ob, my little darling, if ever I break you, somebody will have a very bad time of it No, she won't. I'd be as big a fool about her as I am now. I'll poison that red-haired girl on my wedding-day she's unwholesome and now I'll pass on these present bad times to Torp." ( To be continued next Sunday.) A SPECULATOE'S SCHEME. How Colonel Do Freca Made Stanley's lec ture Pay Him Big Money. New York PreBs.3 Colonel De Frece tells how he managed to make his stage at the Stanley lecture pay him about $1,000. It is a trick worth know ing, although I do not think he intended that the public should betaken into his con fidence in relation to it. The Colonel went down to Mayor Grant's office and got a list of the prominent citizens who had been named on the World's Fair Committee, as representative New Yorkers, when we were trying to secure the location of the Fair in th'is city. With this list as a basis he sent out 400 polite notes about as follows: Mr Deak Sir You have been selected to serve as a member or the Committee on Re ception at the Metropolitan Opera House on the occasion of Henry it. Stanley's first lecture InAmeric.. Kiudly notify me at once of your acceptance. There were very few replies that were not in tbe nature of an acceptaucc. Everyman who got such a note as that felt flattered by the distinction and sent in his acceptance at once. Thereupon a second note was sent to him requesting him to sens a check for $10 for his stage seat Having accepted the honor he couldn't very well refuse to pay for it, even thongh he knew and felt he had been tricked. Yet I am told that some gen tlemen, upon the receipr of the second letter, had the good sense to write aud decline either to serve on the "reception commit tee" or to send $10 to Colonel De Frece. Shipbuilders' Fitch. A new white pitch for shipbuilders is coming into use, and which, says the Springfield Republican, supersedes the usual laborious, expensive and inadequate method of treating decks by working putty into the seams with a knife. The peculiar ity of this white pitch is, as claimed, that it is the only material yet introduced of a white color that can be run into deck seams iu a hot state like ordinary pitch. Tbe material is especially snitable for hot cli mates, as it will stand the sun's heat in stead of melting out of the seams. The Coal Mining industries of Trinidad, Col,, are something really wonderful. The mines are what are commonly called the "side-hill mines" so frequently found in Pennsylvania and other mountain mining regions; There are three veins of coal, the upper one seven to twelve feet thick, aud so easily mined that the miners at BOc per ton frequently make to exceed $100 per month. Thelead" ing operator there said that the time was likely to come when coal would be put aboard tbe car at Trinidad at 75 cents per ton, and leave a handsome profit to tbe mine operator. For- l'uli information address Trinidad Laud and Improvement" Co., Trini did, Col. su - J- M,ii- 1 c- t fcbifei. j.....-. ...-n.' - " , v ' mL'j' -zSsL&Pii-', - . vjf J5L"'- r' v -- -v ajL. - t !$'' . . - 'i4ALE-. - tHB PITTSBXm& DISPATCH,; ON FOOT INMROPE. Lillian Sponcer Describes Her Jour ney Through Belgium. WORKERS IN THE BRICK KILNS. Locked Dp in a Sky Farlor ana Bobbed by a Lawless Walter. ADTICB FOB 0THEE PEDESTRIANS rconnitspoNDESCi of thb dispatch. Mechlin, Belgium, November It Fifteen miles is a long walk for a well woman. For an invalid it is well try it and see. If you have ever been picked up and dropped from the roof of a house to the side walk, or tumbled under the wheels of a carriage, or been thrown from .the back of a frolicksome horse, then you may have some faint conception of the battered up feelings of your anatomy on the morning following your tramp. Otherwise you can not possibly conceive how (tiff and sore aud played out you are. I know I was. In my disguise of an invalid I may say it was the biggest doss of allopathic medicine I ever took. To those who follow my example and un dertake a walking tour on their own ac count I have this to say: Take it homeo patbically! Start out with 5 miles, continue for a week, then begin and add from 1 to 2 miles a day, and by the end of a month a IS miles stretch will ha.ve become a pleasant stioll. Iu walking do not lag! Hold the body erect, throw up the head, straighten the shoulders and let the arms hang freely by the side. Start out with a long swinging step, and when latigued break into a brisk, lively gait Hever sit down longer than five minutes at a time. A half hour's rest precludes the possibility of going on com fortably again. It stiffens the joints and creates a languor delicious in the extreme, but difficult, and in some cases impossible to shafce off. Five minutes answers the purpose perfectly well. FAVORS LIGHT BREAKFASTS. The best clan of regulating tbe day is to rise at 7 and take a light breakfast of cafe-au-lait and rolls. You will more than likely do this under any circumstances, since it is about all that can be had at that hour. And a good custom, too. I blame half my ill health to the heavy American breakfast. Meat potatoes, hot breads, cakes and coffee are all very well at noon, but nature never intended that they should be eaten imme diately upon rising. After partaking of tie cafe-au-lait, which will be served free of charge in the room, consume a half hour or so with the papers, and then start out Walk in the shade 01 the tall, green trees, which, like an army of stalwart giants, stand side by side, lining the beautiful white roads as lar as the eye cau'sce. At noon stop for an hour, and then par take of the "dejeuner-a-la-fourchette," after which I recommend at least two hours' re pose. Besume the walk, say at 2:30 or 3, and continue until 6. Betire at 10. A sponge bath morning and evening is a great tonic, and is indispensable. By following the above plan, from 15 to 20 miles can be healthfully accomplished in one day. The change in one's general condition becomes apparent after tie first week. The warm sun, pitying the pale face, no doubt, stains it with a delicate coloring of brown, which lends a ruddy glow to the hitherto emaciated conntenance; a brilliancy to the dull eyes, and a rich glow to the pallid lips. The con stant exercise of the muscles of the body, together with the inhalation of the pure, fresh air, sends tbe sluggish old blood, coursing through the veins and ' stirs' the sluggish liver to unwonted activity. MAKES A l'ERSOX NEW. Farewell to wakeful nights now! Good-by to insomnia and heart burn, and dyspepsia and lack of appetite. The only thought is to get enough to eat ont of the 6 francs al lotted by tbe economical friend for each dav's living expenses. The pampered 'pal ate which heretofore craved the daintiest tid-bits in the way ot pastry and food, now relishes the coarse loaf of the peasant and takes the bitter Belgium beer with an avid ity of thirst One rarely fares badly in a gastronomical sense in Belgium. The most unpretentious country inn will serve a good "table d' hote" for the modest sum of 30 cents. But one must know the price before hand. And he must have no sensitiveness about haggling. Not to be able to haggle is not to be able to live in Belgium. I am inclined to think a foreigner is judged by his ability in this respect and treated ac cordingly. At Boren, for instance, I asked the price of a bed and dinner. "Three francs for the bed, 4 for the dinner, SO centimes for a candle and SO for service,'1 was the reply. "I cannot pay any such amount," I said, firmly. "Will you pay 2 for the bed and 3 for the dinner?" "Decidedly not." "One franc and SO centimes for the bed, then, and 2 for the dinner?" "No; too much by far." "What will you pay?" "We will pay 1 franc apiece for rooms, 1 for dinner and 50 centimes for cale-au-lait in the morning." "BienI bien!" was the response, ''and I shall be happy to bring the cafe to the apartment" This is a sample of the conversation which passes between my landlady and I at every stopping place. In point of fact, I am he coming a professional haggler. I don't like the business, I admit, but these good folk seem to expect it, and I notice that when ever I make a tradesman or innkeeper come down half in his price, he treats me with more respect. No doubt the discovery that I am not a fool gratifies him. THE PEOPLE OP BELGIUM. On the whole, the Belgians are an admir able people, though. I like them. They are more polite than the French, and more honest than Italians. And then tbey are so fat and rosy, and hearty and jolly good natured, it is a pleasure to be near them. They are excellent good to look at, too. And some of the girls are very handsome, in a robust fashion. We left Boren and continued our walk te Mechlin, a distance of two miles. The first quarter lay through the brick kilns of Belgium. It was for the most part bad walking, but one cannot regret the oppor tunity thus afforded of seeing into real home life of the peasant. Mile after mile stretched the sheds or kilns. .Low, sharp peaked structures, with red painted roofs, piled high with unbaked bricks, hundreds upon hundreds of men, women aud children, each busily employed in some one or other of the processes of manufacture, women with their babies tied in wheelbarrows in lieu of cradles, bearing loads of clay on their sturdy shoulders to tbe man who fashioned the cray into molds, which boys and girls carried to the yards and ranged in regular rows to dry in the sun. Each and every village was bustling with activity. Every body was at work, even the dogs. Only the babies were allowed to sleep in their primi tive cribs or kick their fat legs in the warm sunshine. Most of these peasants are born and raised within the shadows of the kilns. Here Jhey live; here they die. Their idea of heaven is no doubt a k:ln. If you were to tell tbem oi a country where there were no kilns they would look vague and incred ulous and shake their heads and tell you they wouldn't care to live in a place like that THE WAGES PAIS. The women are paid about 1 franc per day, tbe children bait that amount Boys whose sturdy legs enable them to tramp briskly back and lorward under tbe heavy loads' are worth more. And herein they attain the-ntnmit of their desires. Asa matter of fnct'n boy with an ambition out side the kilns would be looked upon as an ingrate an outcast He would bethought SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 23, feeble in his mind, if not out of his wits altogether. And prayers and petitions would be made the Holy Virgin on his acconht. The courtesy and politeness of these rude umaugnt peasants is extraordinary. j.ne smallest lad will tip his cap if vou speak to him. The shopkeeper is equally gracious. He will thank you from his heart and sonl, for buying a penny roll, and wish you bou voyage from tbe sidewalk. If you ask for a certain street 01" a chance passer-by, he will walk hack half a block to point it out to you. Everyone bows as you pass and no one, from the smallest child, forgets to wish you good day. These people may not mean quite all they say, but it is, good to hear them say it at any rate. As 'they have no possible way of learning civility and polite ness, one can only assume that it is born with tbem. True courtesy is always in the blood. On leaving the brick kilns'which stretch many miles, one comes in sight of the garii son'of Boren a great stone stronghold sur rounded by a moat and further guarded by spruce-looking soldiers, with gallant swords swinging' by their sides ana high-pointed caps tipping jauntily from their heads. A KIGHT OP ADVENTURE. Do not leave one village so late as to reach another after nightfall. The good country folk are for the most part suspicious of strangers whom the darkness ushers in. We met with a thrilling adventure by do ing this one which might have had a serious, if not disastrous termination. It happened in this way. v e left Boren at 2 in the afternoon to walk to Mechlin, and reached the outskirts of the town just as the shades of twilight were fading into the blackness of night, and the late evening chimes of the famous Mechlin bells were tolling a sweet lullaby to the faithful sleep ing within the shadows of the church. After our usual custom, we avoided the hotels, and inquired for a room in tbe various cafes and estanlmets. Imagine our surprise when one after another eyed us suspiciously, and politely, but firmly, refused us admittance. One said it was too late; another that their rooms were full; a third that they didn't take strangers, and so on. Surprise soon turned to disappointment, and disappointment to indignatiouand despair! Time meanwhile sped swiftly on It 'always does when you are going to be hanged or catch a train. It grew later and later, and there we were, homeless and alone;iu a foreign land! By 9 almost every house had barred its shutters and doors. The street lamps waxed dim and it began to rain! Finally, I espied a somber looking hotel, through the windows of which glimmered a faint light MADE BOLD BY FATIGUE. We entered a brick courtyard, filled with tables and chairs and a motly throng of beer drinkers, and inquired of a sleek-looking waiter in full dress if we could get a room. Certainly we could, if we didn't mind pay ing 3 francs and going up on the top floor. My friend a fearless, masculine sort of woman said all right and bravely followed the man up the stairs. I was frightened, but I was tired, wet and anxious, and glad of tbe friendly shelter of any roof. The cham ber was, as he said, at the very top of the house, and I think we mnst have climbed some half-dozen pairs of stairs before reach ing it To our surprise, it was elegantly furnished. The bed was large and hand somely draped in lace; the stone floor was covered with numerous rugs; the windows were curtained in damask, and the dress ing case and chairs were of rich wood. The sleek attendant lingered for a few moments and finally withdrew. He was a dark, foreign-looking chap, with small, black eyes aud the movements of a cat I hated him on the spot more I (eared him. We were not long in retiring for the night, but oddly enough, neither of us could compose ourselves to sleep. Hour after hour dragged wearily on. Finally, just as we were about to fall into a doze, I remembered that I had not made fast the door. Thinking that perhaps my friend might also have fogotten it, I slipped ont of bed, and lighting the candle, felt for the bolt As I did so my heart gave a great throbbing- bound, the door was not only open, bnf there was neither key, bolt nor lock; no way, In fact, of fastening it at all. For a moment I stood trembling and speech less! A STEALTHY STEP OUTSIDE. A fearful dread grew upon me. My teeth began to chatter. A feeling of dizziness came oyer me. I was about to awaken my lriend when a stealthy step outside arrested my attention and rooted me in terror to the spot Someone was in the hall. I heard the creeping sound of shoeless feet. Then a hand stole noiselessly to the door. I tried to move. I could not. I was riveted to the floor. All power went from me. The hand outside swept across tbe panels of the door, until it found the bolt Here it made a rat tling noise and I knew perfectly well what would follow. The bolt slid in the lock, the door was made perfectly fast Then the soft, snake-like steps died away and all was still. We were Rocked in I More than likely they meant to rob and murder us. We carried very little money, it is true; but I had a letter of credit and some jewelry in a bag around my neck, and my friend bad a valuable watch and chain. Not much, to be sure; but sufficient to cost us our lives at the hands of the fiends into whose murderous clutches we had fallen. I have no words to describe the agony of the hours that followed. Each moment we feared might be our last We were afraid to call an alarm from the window, for it opened into the courtyard below. We could not jump out without killing ourselves. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to do but wait for our doom. THE BOBBERY PERPETRATED. The bells of Mechlin had tolled 3 o'clock when I again heard that catlike step iu the hall. This time, however, the movements were quicker and not quite so guarded.' I had scarcely recovered irom my first sense of fright when the bolt was withdrawn and the door softly opened. The waiter who bad received us stood in tbe doorway. He didn't hesitate or beat about the bush. He came at once to the point and informed us of the character of the house we were in. They would not do us any bodily harm, he said, bnt they would make us pay a big price to get out. If we wanted to strike a bargain with him, however, we could do so to much better advantage. He was only a servant, but, heaven knows, he had a little heart He would not rob us. He would only ask a "petit pourboirel" A mere bagatelle, a fee big enough to pay him for his trouble and the rise he ran. No more not a franc more! He was an honest fellow God and the Virgin knew that perfectly well but he had to live somehow. "How much do you want?" I demanded of the, rascal, whom I felt was as likely to betray us as bis employer's. "Fifty francs, and little enough when yon consider the risk I run." "I will give you 25 if you will get us out of here at once; but I will not give it to you until we are safe in the street" The rascal grumbled and called some half a dozen or more saints to witness his honesty of purpose, but finally consented and ten minutes later we were ou the sidewalk. We fled from the spot, half dead with fright and fatigue, and passing a large hotel, rang up the porter and asked for a room. We had to pay a big price or it, but after our fearful experience of the night, we were willing to pay anything. Lillian Spbxgbb. TEE BOYAL YACHTS. A Descriptive Uit and Interesting Facta Concerning Them. The royal yachts, says Spar Moment J, be long to the navy, and their crews are selected from other ships of war. Tbe yachts in question are the Victoria and Albert, of 2,470 tons and 2,930 horse power;' the Al berta, of 370 tons and 1,203 horse power; and the Elfin, of 93 tons and 181 horse power. These three are for Her Majesty's own use, and besides those, there is also one called the Osborne, of 1,850 tons and 3,360 horse power, which is assigned entirely to the Prince of Wales. They are all paddle wheeled vessels, and the Victoria and Al bert and Osborne carry two small guns each, Which are intended lor signaling purposes only. 1890. PUTTING UP A PLAT. Hoyt Explains Some of the Difficul ties to be Overcome. THE SUCCESSFUL PIECE GE0WS. Stage Managers and Good People Save Poor Writers. Often THE PECULUEHT OP AUDIENCES tCOnnKSPOXDENCB or the dispatcui New Yoke, November 22. "A play in its inception is little more than a mere out line on which are hung incidents of dramatic action commonly called a plot." The speaker was a well-known play ivriter. Measured by his success, he is unquestionably the most noted and dis tinguished American playwriter of the day. While all of his earlier efforts were directed to the production of what is known as farce comedy, he has recently betrayed an ambition to do something'in a more serious vein, of a more distinctly comedy nature. He is yet a young man and a man as yet unspoiled by tbe flattery and financial fortune which at tend success in dramatic work of any kind. He is a close student, a naturally excellent stage manager, and can give on occasion a practical illustration of any role of his own creation. With such a combination of talents, there is practically nothing in his line impossible to such a man. A PEN PICTURE OP HOYT. Sitting in his little den ot an office on the second floor of an ancieut dwelling bouse on upper Broadway he would strike even the casual visitor as a remarkable roan. His face, smooth save the close reddish mus tache, is a lengthy oval, clean cut, with rather long and pointed chin, while his clear white forehead is just high enough and broad enough to pleasantly outline a sym metrical head. The eyes give rather a serious expression to the whole. They are tbe sad and serious eyes of tbe traditional man who grinds out humor that the rest of the world may laugh. In point of personal appearance this indi vidual would strike you as being a trifle over-dressed. There is a Bort of speaking tone in his elegant jewelry, diamonds, etc., akin to "loudness." This gentleman's name is Hoyt It is his little private den set aside by a crude partition from the general offices of Messrs. Hoyt & Thomas, theatrical agents and managers. A big three-sheet lady is pinned against the wall by tbe side of a roll top desk. Cartoons and rough sketches of other bill-board stuff are here and there. On this desk is a single sheet of paper con taining certain marginal memoranda the growing outlines of a new play from this prolific writer. A PLAY IS A GBOWTH. "The real play is a growth," continued Mr. Hoyt. "It is not written at once. Even after it has been laid out, filled in as to de tails of plot and dialogue, polished down, adjusted and readjusted with reference to the business of particular characters and staged and played, it is still not yet a play at least not the play as it will finally reach the public." "I shpnld Bay net." remarked another farce-comedy writer, who has a couple of plays on the road. "When I write another play it will be but a rough outline. I didn't know my own creation when I last saw it A series of stage managers have had a whack at it every actor and actress wants his or her part changed or modified to suit his or her sup posed talents. When they get through with it,Ty the close of the season there will be very little of the original play left." I'Exactly," says Mr. Hoyt "Sometimes this rearing down and toning up improves a piece, and sometimes it doesn't "vfith my own plays, I personally oversee eyery part ot the game from the time it leaves my hands to the time it starts out on the road. LIKES TO HATE A HAND IK IT. "I stage my own pieces and always try at least to compel those who are to perform the various parts to follow the impersonations marked out for them. I say try, because it is a very difficult job to compel them to do it I had the hardest kind of work to con vince those wHo first took out 'A Bunch of Keys that it was not customary in every day life for one man to wrap his legs around another fellow's neck on an informal greet ing. Of course if you and I did that on Broadway we should probably raise a langh, but it is not the way people commonly do, and while I am in favor of leaving the'larg est latitude to play writers and actors, there ought to be some limitation placed upon the performers. 'It actually made me sick when I first saw how they had despoiled my original text and the business laid down by me. It wasn't until I eliminated all those eccen tricities of tbe various members of the com pany that A Bunch of Keys' really begau to pay: I have made a close study of audi ences iu various parts of the country, and have learned that it is a mistake to suppose that because people laugh and shont at any particular act of a perlormer that it should be lelt in the piece and reperformed nightly for the benefit of other people. BIGHTS OF THE MAHAGEBS. "In your case it is different. You write plays and sell them to some manager, and this manager, who probably embarks his money iu the enterprise, thinks he has a perfect right to cut and mangle to snit him self. As long as you get your royalties he goes on the assumption that you have nothing to say about it." "That is just exactly a point in which I differ with those managers," said the -other play writer. "If I write a play 1" certainly have some interest at stake in its successful production. If the play is a failure as I sent it out then the responsibility falls upon me; there is where it should fall. If they laue a piay 01 mine, nowever, and cut it ell to pieces and virtually make a new play of it, I am compelled to suffer the consequences of its lailure. As I said before, tbe next one I try will be a mere outline upon which tbe purchaser can hang any sort of business he desires and take the responsibility for changing my ideas." THE MAKIHO OP SOME PLAYS. "There can be no castirou rules in such cases," remarked Mr. Hoyt. "It is true' it seems a little hard in such a case as yours, but it is true on the other hand that a good many plays that were practically worthless as turned out by their writers have been made successful by good stage managers and good people. I should prefer, however, to have the management of the piece and the people in my own hands during this prog ress of the growth. I am more than ever convinced, as I become familiar with the public taste, that a man is not a good judge ot his own production. I do not refer to this in a literary sense, but in a sense of striking the public pulse. Independently of everything else, this is what we work for. "I have seen some of my pieces, in which I take a pardonable pride, and from which I have made money, fall dead flat in certain places and in other places they have drawn crowded houses. This question of locality Is a thing that a man must needs study assid iously if he desires to make money instead of losing it What will go In one place will not go in another, and what is received as a tremendous hit in Boston will fall flat in New York and vice versa. PECULIARITY OP AUDIENCES. "I have watched some audiences until it seemed to send a cold chill up my spinal column. I could see that it strikes the nerves of every member of the company at the same time. . I have hung upon the chances of getting through that cold upper crust until the second and third act, then to see it melt away and everybody go away pleased at tbe close. The same piece in other cities would be received with uproar ious applause from the very beginning and the hilarity would continue;to tbe end. Ou such occasions the company usually comes out strong. "I am now struggling with a new condi tion of things," continued Mr. Hoyt "I am so strongly identified with the song and dance business of farce comedy that I find it hard' to break away, as for a's the public is concerned and be appreciated iu anv other vein. With the exception of 'A'Mfdniglit Bell,' ano"ATexa3 Steer," I have written nothing hut farce-comedy and tho variety business. It is my desire to reach a little higher than this, and although I cannot say that I have done so in the last two men tioned productions, I' have hopes of the fu ture. FUK IN BEN BUTTEBWOBTH. "In the case of 'A Texas Steer' I went to Washington and oarefally studied the ground on which my principal scenes are laid and the characters which my people were to represent. In this I was greatly as sisted by mv friend Ben Butterworth and others. I shall never forget the courtesy with which tbey treated me in Washington. Butterworth was something of a humorist himself, and I never saw a man to catch a humorous suggestion or help out iu the elaboration ot one as he did. Of course my characters are largely an exaggeration, but in the expression of genuine comedy, this "exaggeration is cot only allowable, but necessary." "Has the measure of your success in these new publications justified you in your own opinion in leaving the lighter vein of farce comedy with which you 'have been identi fied?" "Yes, I think so. I was a little shaky about the reception of 'A Texas Steer in New York, although we had done a pretty good business on the road and had pruned the play and rounded it out where it needed it, but still I felt some anxiety as to how it would be received here. I watched that first audience on the opening night with considerable anxiety. While the result was apparently satisfactory to other.', I was con vinced that the audience was disappointed. That is to say, it came to see something it did not see." MUST BEACH A NEW CLASS. "People who go to see variety business will not be satisfied if they are confronted with legitimate commedy. Those who turn out to see a tragedy feel as though they have been cheated out of their money, if they see nothing but fun. And so it goes. They ex pected to see in "A Texas Steer" something like my other work and in this, of conrse, they were disappointed. Now if I should continue in a new line oi work it is perfectly apparent to me and to any intelligent man that I must in one sense begin over again and attract a different class of people. Iu fact I must shift my audiences. Of course it will take time to determine how success ful a writer may be in this respect I shall try it at least" "Are you at work on a new piece now, Mr. Hoyt?" was inquired. "I am always at work," said the industri ous playwriter, glancing at the sheet on his desk and at his watch. "This was considered a pretty strong hint and we took if, apologizing at the same time for our interruption. CHAS. T. M.UBBAT MASSAGE OF THE STOMACH. How the Operation is Performed and the Be salts Obtained From It New Tort Herald. In the forms of dyspepsia that are due to some disorder in the action of the mweles of the walls o! the stomach, physical and mechanical therapeutical agents, such as massage, electricity and hydrotherapeutics, are usually a valuable complement to the dietic aud pharmaceutical treatment The massage of the stomach can be performed in two ways when the stomach is fall or when it is empty. M. Cseri, of Pesth, has given a very careful set of directions for the mass age of the stomach when it is full. It must be done when the food has become thoroughly juijjicKuutcu witu uie asinc juice mat 19 to say, two or three hours after meals, at the very moment when the spontaneous contrac- uuua ut iue siuuittuu oegia to pour its con tents into the duodenum. The patient should lie flat on the back, the head raised by two pillows and the mouth open. It is well to begin by gentle friction in a direction rnnnin? irom the larger curve of the stomach toward the pylorus for two or three minutes. This should be followed by kneading movements in the same direction and for a similar length of time, and then by more energetic and deeper rubbing, to end up by rapid and gentle friction performed in such a way that the whole seance shall sot ..last more than 10 or 15 minutes. When this massage is skilfully performed it is not disagreeable to the patient It drives out by the oesophagus the abundant gas which was disturbing the stomach; It stimulates the spontaneous contractions of that organ and it relieves the customary painful feeling of fulness to which patients of this order are subject If, after the seance, the patient has an agreeable sensa tion aboutthe epigastrium, accompanied by a gentle feeling of warmth, this indicates that the massage has been well done and that the length of the seance has been sufficient If, on the other hand, there is a feeling of fa tigue and desire for sleep, it will be neces sary to proceed more gently and to lessen the length of tbe seances in the future. W0BTHY 03? A WAG. A Practical Joke, With a Ludicrous Ending, Flayed Upon a Coachman. A gentleman who has something of a reputation as a wag, says Spare Moments, was passing a large draper's shop. There, drawn up. were three or four vehicles, "and among them was a closed brougham with the driver last asleep on the box. Evidently tuc ujiairesa was iaue tne saop. without a word the wag stole quickly up, and open ing the carriage door carefully slammed it to. In a moment the coachman straightened up and gazed down the street at the electric light which was fixed there as if he had never seen anything so interesting in his life; Then he stole a look over his shoulder and saw the wag standing, hat in band, ap parently talking to someone inside the car riage. "Thank you; yes, good day," said the wag, and bowed himself gracefully away from the door, tnrning as he did so to look at the driver, and say, "Homel" "Yes, sirl tcb! get up!" and off went the brougham "home." Where that "home" was, who the mistress of the carriage was, or what she did when she came out of the shop, or what the coach man did when he stopped at the door of tbe "home" and found the carriage empty, all that only the coachman and. lady know. Balanced on a Fln Boston Globe. Two knives of equal weight; a bottle, two corks and two pins. That's all there is to it The hoy or girl who puts them together as shown in the cut will get a curious illus tration of the way in which that most im portant thing in, on or around the world gravity does its work. If there's difficulty in making one pin rest on the point of the other, flatten it a little at the point of con tact. A Paradox. Boston Heraia. "Hqw strange it Is," remarked Gihbs, "that taking a day off sow and then tends to lengthen man"', life instead of shortening it" QUIET JUDGE LYNCH. The Howling Hob Part of aSouthern Necktie Party .Is; AH a Myth. SILESCE IS ' THE WATCHWORD. Lawless Execution of a Hegto in Daylight That Serves as a Type. ' SCEBE3 THAT WERE TRIIKG TO HEBTE8 rCOBBESPOSDXNCE 0J- THE DISPATCH. Bibmingham, Ala., November 22. In the stereotyped newspaper reports of a, lynching you are sure to find this para graph, and it is usually under a thrilling sub-head: "-An angry mob of masked men then seized the prisoner, and, dragging hint to the woods nearby, the guilty, cowering wretch was strung up to .the nearest limb. His body was left- hanging until morning, when it was cut down by the Coroner, -who will hold an inquest.'' Iu some well-regulated newspaper offices thes: lines are kept on the "standing galley" ready for any emergency. I have witnessed two lynchings and both were conducted "with decency and in order." In neither, case could the lynchers be described as an "angry mob," and not one of them wore a mask, although one of the events occurred at 10 o'clock in the morning. Iu the Southern States, when a woman is assaulted, be her assailant black or white, he is lynched in seveu cases out of ten. Tha white men ol theSouth will not trust tha law to punish this crime. In most cases these lynchings are done quietly, and as a matter of business or necessity. They ara not the work of an "angry" mob" whosa passionate thirst for vengeance can only ba qnenched by blood, but of cool, brave men. who think only of protecting their mothers, wives and daughters. A TYPICAL ITKCHUTO BEE. Two years ago George Meadows, a negro, was lynched at Pratt Mines, five miles from this city. The lynching occurred at 10 o'clock in the morning, and was witnessed byl,500 people, many of tbem women and children. Meadows had assaulted a whita lady and murdered her little sou who had bravely tried to protect his mother. Every white man and boy in the vicinity quit work as soon as thev heard of the crime, and, armed with whatever weapons they possessed or could borrow, they joined tha searching parties. The negro was soon caught, but his victim was unconscious. A thousand armed men gathered about that negro, but there were no cries ot "lynch himl" no threats of vengeance, no oaths. "Wait until Mrs. is able to see him; we don't want to make a mistake," said the men, who, by reason of their age or courage, were the acknowledged leaders of the party. Patiently the crowd it was sot a mob waited. Two days and nights the negro was guarded in the woods, where his captors conld have defied a thousand sheriffs. Not a threat was heard, not an ex clamation of impatience; the crowd did not want to make a mistake. THE PBOOP OF GUILT. The third morning the doctor said the lady was strong enough to see the prisoner. Ont of the woods came a long, silent procession of men surrounding a trembling black figure. Sown through the principal street of tha little town they marched with slow and steady step. Every moment the crowd grew larger, but still not a threat was heard; no one asked, "what are you going to do with him?" The home of the woman was reached, and while the crowd gathered around tha house, every man silent as a statue, four of the leaders led the negro inside. "There is a reporter here," said a mas, whosa nerves were probably givisg way under the long strain. "Make room for him, we want the papers to know everything'saidoneof the leaders. One, two, three, four minutes the men re mained inside the house. When they ap peared at the door coming out, the look of terror on the face of the negro had deepened, but his head was erect and he was trying hard to appear defiant and unconcerned "What did she say?" A thousand men asked the. question at once, but their voices were "low. Every man held his breath to hear the answer. Their faces turned a shade paler, the gleam of their eyes grew more intense, their guns were clasped a little tighter, but not a man uttered a threat ot lynching. The silenca was perfect as the four men holding tha negro paused at the foot of the doorsteps, and one of them said quietly: "He is the man." OFF FOE THE GALLOWS. , A dozen men formed a hollow square about the prisoner and led the way back through the town to the top of a wooded hill beyond. Scarcely a word was spoken by the white-faced, stern-looking men who fol lowed. Women and chiidren had joined the crowd, but they were as silent as their husbands and fathers. No one iu all that throng had said "lynch him," yet no ona asked, "what are they going to do with him?" Under a large- oak tree at the summit of the hill the leaders paused with tha black prisoner. An old man stepped forward, glanced up at a strong branch of the tree, then turning to the crowd, said quietly: "This will do." Some one in the crowd pushed his way to the front and handed a rope to tbe man under the tree. No ona knew who had provided the rope, and no one asked. At sight of the rope the black prisoner weakened. His air of bravado was gone in an instant He trembled in every limb, his eyeballs seemed to swell to double their normal size, and in a low voice ha be gan to beg for mercy. No one listened to him. In a moment one end of the rope was thrown over the limb, and as the throw was made, another oian was tying a hang man's knot at the other end. EVERYTHING DOIfE I2T OBDEE. "Tie his hands and feet," ordered one of the leaders when the rope was ready. A wail of terror broke from the lips of the trembling negro, but not a muscle relaxed m the stem white faces around him. "Oh, Lord, let me pray," he moaned, and tha men who held the rope said quietly: "Let him pray." Down on his knees fell the negro moaning and praying, and the men around him re moved their hats. "He's praying!" , . A whisper went throw.-ih the crowd and all around the men removed their hats and bowed their heads. Softer lines came into the stern white faces for a moment, but there were no lines of mercy for the doomed negro. That's enough, George, stand upl" said the man with the rope, awl the negro stag gered to his feet Five or six men stepped forward, and in a momusit the negro was bound band and foot, and the noose was around his neck. As the noose was adjusted he gave one unearthly shriek of terror and then became silent The crowd moved back a little to make room abo ut the tree. 'Every man held his breath and watcfurf tha dangling rope. "jeuii im upl" THE LAST SCJfSE. The command was give In a low ta! and no one looked to see who gave it A dozen strong hands held ,the rope. There was one qulcc, steady pull, and tbe negro Was writhing and struggling (en feet abova ground. The crowd backed away a" little lurtber and 00 guns were pointed at tha still writhing body. "une, two, three, irel" The report was almost deafening. Th;re was one quick, con vulsive movement of tha dangling body and then it bung motionless. Every man there "breathed one long, full breath of relief, the hard, stern lines in their faces disappeared, their natural color re turned sod they turned slowly from tha scene. It was over, the negro was dead, but from first to last no man in all that throne had said "Lynch himl" "Vy.L. Hawlbt, your house. It will cure croup sad whooping cough. Sold by Jos. Fleming & S a, 412 --Jt n mWLrrfiTi 1 1 r'lihimnitniliiiiitii "BB"'""i"r"
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers